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CHAPTER FIVE

Liam’s Story, January 2009

It was 7 January 2009 and the snow had fallen overnight. Standing at the window of our modest semi, I admired the beauty of the frozen crystals, effortlessly wrapping themselves around houses and trees; sparkling and dancing. We thought it was a sign, Alice and I. She wrapped her winter coat tightly around her, smiling shyly when the coat was a little too tight.

‘I’m getting big,’ she laughed nervously.

Kissing her softly, I felt the warmth of her lips against the icy-cold air of the bedroom. Her dark, coffee-coloured complexion was a sharp contrast to the pure white snow on the other side of the window pane.

‘It’s like a fairy tale, Liam.’

I gripped hold of her hand tightly in response and gave it a small squeeze. ‘Come on… it’s time for our happy ending.’

Moments later, we clambered into my Ford Escort, bringing in fresh snow on the bottom of our shoes, which was sure to morph into a sopping, wet puddle in a matter of minutes. Turning the ignition, I prayed silently that the car would start. It was a battered old thing in desperate need of an upgrade. Alice had been pestering me to buy another car for months but I was kind of attached to the crappy piece of junk.

‘What do you want?’ she asked, breaking into my thoughts. ‘Boy or girl?’ She pulled on her seatbelt as she spoke, stretching it over her rounded bump.

I shook my head. After three miscarriages, I really didn’t care. Alice must have read my mind, as she placed her hand on mine, just as I was about to reverse the car. ‘You need to stop worrying now. It’s all going to be all right.’

At twenty-four weeks, I truly hoped so. The twelve-week scan had been horrendous. I’d thrown up twice that morning. Alice had joked that she was meant to be the one with morning sickness but I just couldn’t help it. After being told three consecutive times that our baby had no heartbeat, I couldn’t take a fourth. But Alice had been calm.

‘It’s different this time,’ she’d said, while rubbing her then tiny bump in semicircles. And she had been right. A small flicker of a heartbeat, a squirming little tadpole with tiny arms and a huge head… I’d fallen in love right at that second, as if nothing else truly mattered.

‘I think it’s definitely a girl, you know,’ I declared, after pulling out of the avenue. The local kids were out in force, shoving freezing-cold snowballs down each other’s backs and dragging each other along on beer crates; Manchester’s answer to a sledge. As the heater gently thawed us out, we spoke about baby names: Grace for a girl, after my late grandma, and Alice was championing Chesney for a boy, because she’d had a teenage crush on Chesney Hawkes.

‘Let’s hope and pray it’s a girl then,’ I teased.

At twenty-four weeks, we would definitely be able to tell the sex. We’d been to the hospital a few weeks previously but the little mite had its legs crossed. On the way home, I’d joked that if it was a girl her legs would stay crossed until she was forty-five! Desperate to know what we were having, we’d paid private for another glimpse at our little miracle.

Ramming the car into second gear, I pushed my foot down on the accelerator as we clambered up the enormous hill. I looked out over the embankments, where forest and ravines lay below, all covered in freshly fallen snow; unspoilt beauty, unlike the roads, which were slowly turning to grey, wet mush.

‘When the baby arrives, it won’t be long until summer,’ said Alice happily, her mind seemingly envisioning tiny, pink, summer dresses and frilly socks.

I didn’t answer, my mind too focused on reaching the top of the hill. Luckily, the gritters had been out or it would have been virtually impossible. Finally reaching the top, I felt triumphant; a few minutes more and we’d be at the hospital, staring in awe at our precious baby as he or she appeared on the screen, as if by magic. If it was a girl, I just knew she’d have tanned skin like her mother and bright-green eyes like my own.

‘Summer,’ I declared from nowhere. ‘If it’s a girl, can we call her Summer?’ The thought had literally jumped into my mind, a complete contrast with the bitter chill and frosted glass that wrapped itself around us.

‘I like Summer,’ agreed Alice, her face a mask of anticipatory excitement. I smiled broadly back at her, before placing my hand on top of her bump, the feel of it still unbelievable after so many years of daydreaming about it. As if she knew we were discussing her, Summer gave my hand a little kick, making me jump. I laughed through the tears that had pooled into my eyes and, in that moment, I knew we were indeed having a little girl. ‘Summer it is th…’

‘Liam, watch out!’ Alice began to scream and, for a split second, I couldn’t understand why.

‘What’s happening?’

As I shouted out to her, the realisation hit me, making me tightly grab hold of the steering wheel, which suddenly felt oiled underneath my grasp, like somebody had detached it from its wheels. As we skidded down the hill, car horns blasted in my ears and the screeching of tyres made my teeth clench as I thrust my foot down on the brake so it was practically touching the floor. Without warning, the back end of the car swivelled around so we were skidding sideways, all the time gaining momentum. The panic rose up within me, making me practically blind as I wrestled with the wheel. We plummeted towards cars on the other side of the road, their bonnets covered in snow, making it difficult to see anything other than a stark brightness. Alice began to cry, and my mind clouded over, a scrambled mess of emotion – any logic momentarily erased.

Then there was an almighty bang! … and everything went black.

***

‘Alice…’

I croaked out her name into the darkness, the feel of it heavy on my tongue as I forced my eyelids to open. Noises from outside washed over me, their sounds mingling together as I blinked away the fug from my brain and tried to turn my head towards her. But I couldn’t, because a sharp bolt of pain suddenly sliced through my shoulder and arm, causing me to scream out through clenched teeth. Hot tears filled my eyes and I bit down hard on my lip, my stomach flipping with sickness and my head pounding like nothing I had ever felt before.

‘What’s happening?’ Confused, I mumbled to myself rather than anyone else. I vaguely remembered the panic, the other cars; the loud bang as everything turned black.

‘Don’t move, help is on the way.’

Somebody was stood by the closed window. I could see their outline in my peripheral vision as their voice swam towards me, almost dreamlike, like it belonged in another world.

‘Liam?’

Alice’s fractured voice sliced through the fog of my brain, snapping me out of my stupor. Instinctively, I turned my head to look at her, this time not feeling the pain from my arm, which I knew was dangling down at the side of me.

‘Alice… speak to me.’ I choked out the words as I inwardly begged her to be all right. But I knew she wasn’t. The other car had collided with the passenger side, meaning Alice had taken the full impact. Her head lolled forwards, her chin practically touching her chest as she blinked lazily, her mouth wide open, allowing trickles of blood to fall down from the corner of her mouth. The crushed metal of the car had embedded itself into her, like it had become an extension of Alice herself.

‘The baby,’ she whispered, the pain in her voice almost tangible.

‘Shhh,’ I soothed as I tried to reach out to her, to touch her face, to tell her that everything was going to be okay.

I wanted to tell her that she needn’t worry because we were going to have our happy ending after all. It didn’t matter about the accident because we would soon see our daughter on the monitor at the hospital. And in a few months, she would be born, our precious little miracle with dark skin and green eyes. On our first outing as a family, we would go to the seaside and build sandcastles, put Summer’s tiny feet in the sand and watch her squeal in delight as Alice and I ate the crab sticks that everyone else thought were disgusting. At Christmastime, we would drive through Blackpool, pointing up at the twinkling lights and eating our weight in candy floss as Summer slept peacefully in the back, snuggled up in a warm blanket. I wanted to tell Alice that we would do all of those things because nothing was going to change. Nothing was going to change because she was finally having our baby and we had wanted this moment for ever and it simply couldn’t be taken away from us now.

I wanted to say it all, but I couldn’t speak… and I couldn’t touch her because my arm had snapped in two.

‘Please,’ I begged, instead, ‘stay with me, Alice. I love you.’

She slowly cast her eyes onto me, holding my gaze, her own eyes wide as if she knew that once they closed it would be for ever.

‘She’s kicking.’ Her voice was barely a whisper but a flicker of a smile danced on her lips as she spoke. ‘Make them save her, Liam,’ she rasped. ‘I don’t care about me.’

‘No, Alice, please.’ The strangled pain in my voice echoed around the insides of the car, which already smelt like death. I was vaguely aware of the sirens, the men who were cutting open the roof and telling me that they were going to get us out of there.

‘Promise me.’ She choked, her spirit battling to stay in her body.

And I knew, I knew that the second I nodded my head, it would all be over.

I didn’t want to nod, but I knew I had to… for Alice.

‘Okay…’ I whispered, ‘I promise you.’

And just like that… Alice died.

Lana, 3.00 pm

The noise around me is deafening: telephones ringing, people shouting, music blaring. The late-afternoon sun is piercing through the window and threatening to burn out my eyeballs.

‘I’m so sorry to hear that, Liam.’

I don’t know what else to say and I’m too terrified to ask if the baby lived. I know it is possible for a baby at twenty-four weeks to survive, but how soon does that unborn baby need to be removed from its dead mother? The thought doesn’t even bear thinking about. I shiver involuntary and rub at my eyes. It is then that I remember Liam has a child. Elliott, I think he said. So the baby must have lived, but it was a boy? The thought momentarily fills me with joy, until I remember that Liam has spoken about his new wife, Jessica. Could Elliott be their child? I want to ask the questions but I’m suddenly terrified of the answers.

‘That’d better be a sale because you’ve been on that call for nearly thirty minutes now,’ Damien is snarling in my ear.

His rancid breath sweeps up my nostrils and makes me choke. I cover the mouthpiece with my hand. ‘I’m doing the best I can.’

‘Well, why aren’t they giving you their credit card yet?’ His sarcastic tone makes everyone look round. I realise my hands are clammy.

‘Commitment issues,’ I offer. If he notices my voice catch in my throat, he doesn’t say.

‘Well, use your alternative closes on them,’ he demands, before sauntering off back to his desk.

‘Liam, I’m sorry, are you still there?’ I kind of hope he’s not. Why did I get myself involved in this?

‘Your boss is kind of a wanker.’

I laugh despite the situation. ‘He’s definitely a wanker.’

‘You really should go. I’ll be getting you in trouble.’

I sigh. ‘I’m already in trouble.’

The line goes silent. I check the caller display to see if the seconds are still ticking away. They are, tick-tock, tick-tock, like little beats of a heart.

‘Please tell me more, Liam? I want to know.’

Liam’s Story, January 2009

‘Hi, Summer… I knew you’d be a little beauty.’

I reached out to touch my daughter’s delicate hand, which was the size of a fingernail. Her skin was red and almost translucent but she was perfectly formed. The tiny incubator was positioned in the corner of the room, next to a window that looked out onto a small park, below. Through the window, I saw the thick blanket of snow draped over the trees and hedges, the weak sunshine shimmering over it, offering small mirrors of colourful light to the otherwise white canvas.

I looked down again at Summer, and traced my little finger over her nose and lips, the feel of her skin soft to the touch. Her mouth was turned downwards slightly at the corners, just like mine. She had Alice’s nose and chin. At the thought of Alice, tears threatened my eyes once again, but I pushed them back, screwing my face up tightly so as to not let myself completely crack up. My broken arm hung limply in a makeshift cast, but I felt no pain.

A young nurse entered the room and placed a cup of something hot down onto the table. She looked up at me through thickly rimmed spectacles, her expression hard to read.

‘Thanks,’ I muttered, the words barely audible through my grief. I noticed how the nurse hovered around at the doorway, like she was desperate to say something else and, yet, at the same time, terrified to speak. I looked over at her, nodding my head slightly.

‘Would you like to dress her?’ she whispered, her eyes buried into the floor. I got the impression she hadn’t been doing the job for very long.

‘That would be nice,’ I choked, the heartache crushing my vocal cords.

Ten minutes later, I held Summer in my arms for the first time. Her skin was cold to the touch and I pulled her tightly against me in an attempt to warm her up. ‘Hush, little baby, don’t you cry…’ Fat tears dripped from my eyes, landing on top of her tiny pink babygro. In that moment, I wanted nothing more than to die.

Eventually, after what seemed like seconds, the morning light seeped through the curtains of the hospital room. I’d been sitting there all night, talking to my daughter, telling her how much I loved her. And how truly sorry I was for not protecting her like a father should.

Kissing her lightly on the top of her head, I handed her over to the nurse.

‘Fly away, my darling… fly away to Mummy.’