Marie had never felt good enough or appreciated by her husband. They had married young. He would work all day and come home and just expect his dinner on the table and then just sit in front of the TV all evening. At twenty-four, she fell pregnant and she was so happy, but Ken didn’t seem excited at all. He didn’t want to tell anyone so she felt she couldn’t be happy about it or get excited. This amazing time in her life had been made horrible, like she wasn’t allowed to talk about it, or even mention anything to do with the baby.
The moment she saw the blood on wiping when she went to the toilet, she knew she was miscarrying. It was like she was waiting for it as every time she went to the toilet she would check for blood and be relieved when there was not any. Maybe Ken was right after all. My mum still got upset years later when she saw pregnancy announcements before twelve weeks, because you never know what could happen, and up until that first scan you had a high chance of miscarriage. Maybe she just thought like this because she’d had a miscarriage, as when she found out she was pregnant all she wanted to do was tell people, make plans and buy baby bits. But Ken stopped her and he was right. How would she have felt telling people she was pregnant and then having to tell them she had lost it? You would have thought this would have brought them closer together, but it did the complete opposite as she was devasted and he seemed to not give a shit. She would cry all the time about it. After all, she had lost a life that had been growing inside her, but he would say it’s only an embryo, not like it was a baby yet. But it was to her and she did not want to just forget about it. She had worked out the due date and was thinking about names and schools. But everyone dealt with grief differently I guess maybe that was his way.
It was her Christmas office party Marie hadn’t drunk for what seemed like forever as she had been pregnant and then in pain for a couple of weeks and in too much of an emotional state after the miscarriage, so that night she dolled herself up in a black velvet off the shoulder dress which hugged her curves, did her makeup and had her hair permed, and she thought she looked quite attractive for once. The party was in full swing. She started with Bacardi and coke, then went onto gin and bitter lemon. Funny how drinks go in and out of fashion, as you don’t hear anyone drinking Bacardi any more but gin is the in thing now. You can get every flavour under the sun.
Feeling confident, she strutted her stuff on the dancefloor—well, a corner of the office that didn’t have desks or chairs in the way—and stumbled, perhaps due to her patent neon stilettos that she wasn’t use to wearing, or because of all the gin. Malcolm steadied her and she leaned in for a cuddle. She wanted to feel something again, needed some comfort. Ken hadn’t been giving her any, barely touched her any more. She had to remind him to kiss her before he left for work. The rest of the night was a bit of a blur.
She woke up in her bed, still dressed. She did not have any knickers on and when she felt down below, she knew she’d had sex, just couldn’t remember it, but Ken was lying next to her. Thank fuck for that, she thought.
Two weeks later she started to feel rough, sick and had sore boobs like she was going to come on. She thought she would go to the doctors as something was definitely wrong and he confirmed she was pregnant.
She named me India after her love for the country, although she had never been. I had big brown eyes and lots of dark hair and from the moment she saw me all covered in white mucky stuff, she was in love. She could not believe that she had created such perfection and was amazed about how I had been inside her for all that time. Although looking down at her bump, it still looked like the baby was in there as it did not seem to go down at all afterwards; she wondered if she had another one still in there. Everything was great apart from she was barely sleeping, looked like a tramp and could not remember the last time she had brushed her teeth or eaten, but she had the most perfect little baby, so none of that mattered. It brought her and Ken closer together. He was a brilliant dad and doted on me.
A couple of weeks after being back at work after having nearly nine months off, Malcolm came into the office.
‘Long time no see,’ he said.
Marie smiled. She had not seen him since the Christmas party. ‘Yeah, it has. How you been?’ she replied.
‘Good, actually, I have been waiting to see you. I have something of yours in the van.’
‘For me?’ Her face dropped when she saw him walking back with a small carrier bag. As she opened it, inside, she saw her knickers.
‘I think these belong to you,’ he whispered with a wink.
She felt sick to the stomach. Did she have sex with him that night? Was he India’s father? What if he wanted custody? Would she have to tell him? She kept picturing India’s beautiful face and she could see the resemblance now. She didn’t look like Ken at all; the dark features came from Malcolm. Her little family bubble that she had been in would now be burst. He would
