At Julia’s mother’s house, I ring the bell at the gate. Nothing happens. I ring again.
I can’t get in any other way. The house has high walls and electric fencing – this is Joburg after all, and I am not a professional housebreaker.
‘Julia!’ I scream. Peering through the gate, I can see Julia’s car. She is home. I pick up my phone and try Daniel again.
Now I’m worried for real.
Daniel
The first time I saw Claire’s number, I ignored it. Claire never phones me with nice things any more, like she used to. She used to be such a fun, spontaneous person – supper dates and weekends away and calls just to tell me she missed me. Now it’s all boring stuff, like I must pay her money or pick Mackenzie up or have Mackenzie for the weekend. It’s like she’s had a personality change. Inexplicable.
Then I start thinking how little I understand her. Or Julia, for that matter. And how I never know which way the wind will blow with those two, and what will happen next. And it occurs to me that maybe Claire is finally coming around, and that she has in fact phoned to tell me we can get back together. Which would be great – the best thing for everyone. We would all be so happy.
I pick up my phone and I’m about to phone Claire back when it rings again, and it’s her. My instinct was right. She must want me back – badly.
‘Babe?’ I answer.
Recently she’s shouted at me when I call her ‘babe’, but this time she doesn’t, which I take as a good sign.
‘I’m outside the house and nobody’s answering the bell—’ she starts.
‘Babe, I’m at the office. Not the house. Actually, I don’t live in a house at all.’ Poor woman, driven mad by her need to be with me.
‘Not your house, you idiot,’ she says. ‘Julia’s house. Well, her mum’s house. Helen’s house.’
This is not going the way I expected. I’m not entirely sure, but Claire sounds quite hostile.
‘You sound quite hostile,’ I say.
‘Now listen carefully, Daniel. I think Julia might be in labour. I need you to phone her mum and tell her to get home as soon as possible, so we can get in.’
‘Shouldn’t she go to the hospital?’ I ask, reasonably I think. Claire had Mackenzie in a hospital and Julia hasn’t said anything about wanting a home birth. Although nobody tells me anything these days. ‘Or does she want a home birth?’ I ask, to show I’m thinking about her needs. Claire likes that sort of thing.
‘Daniel,’ says Claire, ‘for once in your life, just once, listen. I think Julia is in the house, in labour. I can’t get in. Phone Helen and tell her. Or send me her number. Can you do that?’
‘Why don’t I just come and help?’
‘Do you have the keys?’
‘No. Why would I have the keys?’
‘Then phone Helen first, and then come. Can you do that?’ She sounds very patronising, to be honest.
I sigh. ‘Sure. There’s no need to be so rude about it.’
‘Just. Fucking. Do. It,’ says Claire, and rings off.
Honestly, I’m sure she didn’t have such a foul mouth when we lived together. It’s not very attractive, to tell the truth.
With a sigh, I dial Helen’s number, even though she scares me.
Helen
At first, I have no idea what Daniel wants. He seems to be complaining about women being incomprehensible – but I know that I’m very distressed and it might be that I’m not understanding properly.
Eventually, I manage to understand one sentence.
‘. . . so I said I would tell you,’ he says.
‘Tell me what exactly, Daniel?’
‘To go to your house to let Claire in because she has this idea that Julia’s in labour.’
‘Claire thinks that . . .’ I think about all the manic messages I received this morning, and the nagging feeling I’ve had all day. The talk of naming the baby after Braxton Hicks. She could be in labour, but then why hasn’t she phoned? Still, better safe than sorry.
‘I’ll meet you at the house,’ I tell Daniel. ‘And call the hospital to tell them to expect her, just in case.’
‘What hospital?’ says Daniel.
For a moment I wonder if perhaps Daniel is slightly stupid.
‘The same bloody hospital you went to for the scans.’ Then I reconsider. ‘Never mind, I’ll call them. You just come to the house, okay?’
Daniel is still speaking when I hang up – but I have better things to do, more important things. Part of me wants to run in and tell Mike that maybe the baby is being born. Another part thinks, What’s the point? He can’t hear me.
But I’ve been telling Mike stuff for almost my whole life. Who cares if he can’t hear me? I run back into the home, into his room.
‘The baby could be coming!’ I say, and then I leave.
Julia needs me.
Julia
The cramps are so bad, and suddenly I feel wetness seeping down my leg. I sit down on my mother’s bed. I know I should phone someone for help, but my phone is still under the bed, out of reach, and every time I summon the energy to stand up and try to get it, there’s another cramp. My mother has a landline next to her bed, but I don’t know anyone’s phone number, not even Daniel’s, which is ridiculous when you think about it.
Finally, I summon a number from my memory – my mum’s work number that I used as a child. I’m pretty sure it hasn’t changed. I dial, and someone who isn’t my mother answers.
‘I need to speak to Helen,’ I say. ‘It’s her daughter, Julia.’
‘Julia, sweetie,’ says this strange woman, like she knows me. ‘It’s your mum’s afternoon off.’
Damn it. She’s gone to meet that coma woman, I remember now.
‘D’you have her mobile number?’ I ask.
