Читать книгу An Almost Perfect Moon - Jamie Holland - Страница 11

Everyone told Ben first babies were usually late, and despite Lucie’s desire for a slightly premature birth, he hoped they were right. A delay of two weeks would probably mean the Prospero deal would be signed, done and dusted by the time the baby arrived. Before that, and life could become very tricky indeed.

He’d only been working for Farman Gore for just over six months. They worked him hard – very hard – but he knew he could never regret having made the move. Although he’d enjoyed his time at Landsberg Warner, he’d been unable to resist the offer being made by this American company just setting up in London. Carl and John had been sent over by the New York office to get things up and running and approached Ben as one of their first recruits. It was an exciting opportunity: a good name the other side of the Atlantic, a dedicated team being brought together in the new office, including Ben’s old work colleague Steve, and the prospect of working on some really good deals. Carl and Jon had been big players in the States, and Ben felt sure there was much he could learn from them.

One of the first major deals he’d been working on was the takeover of News Associated, a national newspaper and magazine company, by a regional conglomerate called Prospero Limited. The deal had looked as if it had completely collapsed at the beginning of the year, but had recently suddenly resurfaced. It was back on with a vengeance, and Ben was in the thick of it.

By Lucie’s official due date, there was still no indication that the baby was about to budge. At six-forty-five in the morning, Ben had kissed his sleeping wife and headed off to Clapham Junction to catch the train to work, his mind swimming with details of the deal, rather than the forthcoming arrival of his first child.

Just after seven-thirty he and Steve met in Carl’s office for a be-brief. Steve had been drafted in to cover Ben in case the baby did suddenly arrive. Even so, Steve’s presence would hardly let Ben off the hook.

‘So where are we at then, Ben?’ Carl asked, as immaculate and fresh as ever, as though he’d already been up and about for hours.

‘It’s basically a question of going through the merger model.’

‘Early thoughts?’

‘OK. So far, I think it should be a straightforward enough job persuading NA.’

‘Good. What about the press release?’

‘First draft end of the day, maybe tomorrow morning.’

‘Excellent. We’ve got to get the underwriting agreement sorted by the end of next week. This deal has to go live a week Monday.’

Ben was still number-crunching on the Excel charts on his computer when the phone rang just after ten o’clock.

‘It’s your wife on the line,’ Tara, his secretary told him, emotion absent from her voice.

‘Great, quick, put her through,’ Ben snapped back. A moment later, Lucie was connected.

‘Ben? Ben, my waters have broken,’ gabbled Lucie. ‘It’s disgusting, I was just walking into the kitchen and then whoosh.’

‘Oh my God.’

‘Anyway, it’s about bloody time. I’ve been feeling more than bursting for days now.’

Ben felt stunned. Somehow, he hadn’t ever pictured this moment arriving. It just seemed an event too enormous to contemplate, and now it had happened he didn’t really know what to say or do.

‘Brilliant,’ he told her; it was the first word that came into his mouth. ‘Have you called the midwife?’

‘Yes, darling.’

‘And a taxi? You need to be in hospital right away.’

‘Ben, calm down. I’m fine – I can certainly wait for you to come home.’

‘Luce, please. You know what the midwife said: as soon as your waters break, you should go straight to hospital in case of infection.’

‘Ben – darling – calm down. I’m fine, honestly. Just come home, and then we’ll go in. An extra half-an-hour won’t make any difference.’

‘Jesus,’ said Ben. ‘Alright, if you insist, but I’m coming back right now, okay?’

‘I am, I promise.’ His heart-rate had quadrupled and his palms were sweating. ‘I’ll be back right away.’ He ran his hands through his hair. This was it. This was bloody it. He was about to become a bloody father.

Tara put her head round the door. ‘Everything Okay?’

‘Yes, no, look, I’ve got to go. It’s beginning.’

‘Deep breaths,’ Tara told him coolly.

Ben smiled at her sarcastically, then rushed over to Carl’s office.

‘Carl, look, terrible timing, I know, but the baby’s on its way,’ Ben told him.

‘Right. So are you saying you’re going now?’

‘Yes.’

‘OK, but you’re going to have to keep closely in touch with Steve, and I still want you going through that press release when it arrives.’

‘Sure,’ said Ben, as Steve joined them.

‘Steve, you continue the work on the merger model, and e-mail the press release to Ben as soon as it comes in. Ben, let everyone know you’re out of the office and keep in touch with me and Steve. Yes?’

‘Fine,’ said Ben.

‘And Ben – congratulations. Tell your wife her timing’s terrible.’

For eight months, since they’d first found out Lucie was pregnant, they’d been building towards this moment. Ben had read books on the subject, dutifully dragged Lucie to the ante-natal classes, watched Look Who’s Talking, and mentally prepared himself. But sitting in the back of the taxi, anxiously clicking his fingers, he realized he knew nothing. He didn’t know what he should be doing, what they would do when the baby was actually born, or how he could help Lucie. He’d tried to persuade her it might be a good idea to get a maternity nurse – just for a couple of weeks – but Lucie had scoffed at the idea. ‘How hard can it be?’ she’d riposted. ‘I don’t need some total stranger hanging around my house telling me what to do.’ Still, with things as they were at work now, he wondered about raising the matter again. Outside, the traffic slowly crawled along the Embankment, and he cursed repeatedly. It was nearly eleven in the morning, what the hell were they all doing? Hadn’t they realized rush hour was supposed to be over? He leant forward and tapped his feet, wondering whether there was any time in this stupid city when there wasn’t a traffic jam.

‘Jesus Christ,’ he said out loud, throwing himself back in his seat and clasping his head. His heart still pounded, only now even faster and more heavily. He felt sick with worry and nerves. Panic, that was what he felt, sheer panic.

The same could not be said of Lucie.

‘Hi, darling you’re back.’ She said as he rushed into the sitting room. She was walking up and down, eating a yoghurt and looking calm and quite contented, unfazed by the ordeal ahead of her. Ben could only sit down and marvel at his wife’s serenity. She’d been this laid back all the way through the pregnancy. ‘Do we have to go to the ante-natal classes?’ she’d pleaded. ‘They’re all so bloody earnest. I don’t see why we can’t just read about it instead.’ But Ben had insisted, anxiously taking notes while Lucie’s attention wandered. Really, she’d been amazing, as she was with everything. No morning sickness, nor any signs of excessive tiredness. In fact, it was only really recently that she’d grumbled about the back-ache and discomfort when trying to sleep. They’d still gone out, still seen their friends; and where Ben constantly worried about the baby’s health and lived in fear of it developing some terrible deformity, Lucie seemed more concerned that it should have enough outfits, costumes and the right kind of three-wheeled buggy. ‘I’m not going to look like some awful washed-up old hag,’ Lucie told him cateogorically, ‘I want to be a glamorous mother with a glamorous child.’

‘But aren’t you worried about it all being OK?’ Ben had asked her one time as they scoured Baby Gap.

‘Not really,’ she told him, picking up a little pink outfit with ‘Cool’ written on it, ‘you do all the worrying for me. No point in us both getting het up.’

All the same, Ben had still insisted they have an ordinary pram too. At the ante-natal class, they’d been quite emphatic about that: for the first three months, it was important for the baby to lie flat, and he was going to play it by the book, even if Lucie wasn’t.

‘Come on, Luce,’ said Ben. He was standing in the hallway, clutching Lucie’s overnight bag just as the phone rang again. But she had already picked up the receiver. He’d only been back a few minutes and yet in that time Lucie’s sister Susie, and Vanessa, her mother, had both rung. Then Steve had called his mobile, the jarring cacophony of ringing phones adding to his increasing stress.

It was Vanessa again.

‘Mum, I’m fine, honestly – I’ve got Ben here … he’s being brilliant actually, so there really isn’t … no … no … we’ll call you later … NO, MUM, I don’t want you watching me give birth. Bye.’ She put the phone back.

‘Luce, please,’ urged Ben.

Lucie ambled through to the hallway. ‘Jesus, she is just impossible sometimes.’ Then putting on a shrill voice she mimicked, ‘“But darling, it’s not natural being without your mother, and Ben’s a man and he’s bound to be hopeless.” What bollocks – Oh, yow!’ she cried again, grimacing and clutching her stomach. ‘Can’t be too long now.’ She looked up, giving him a reassuring smile. With a protective arm around her, Ben ushered her out of the front door.

But there was still a little way to go yet. At the hospital, Lucie was quickly put to bed, but there was still no sign of the baby. Afternoon dragged on to evening, and Ben started to feel increasingly helpless, alternately pacing up and down antiseptic corridors and clutching Lucie’s hand at her bedside. The last few hours were tortures. Lucie’s pain became increasingly apparent, but he was powerless to do anything about it. This was a full-on attack against all his natural instincts to be gallant and protective towards her. It shocked him to see someone normally so composed and pragmatic about everything yell and clench her teeth, sweat pouring down her face. And somehow so undignified: legs straddled, and people gaping at her ever-widening vagina. Thank God he was born a man, and saved from all the shoving and prodding that went on. Strange thoughts circulated his mind. He suddenly remembered how once he’d had to drop his pants for a doctor when he was about twelve: it had been the most embarrassing moment of his life. But such concerns were clearly the last thing on Lucie’s mind as she grimaced and shrieked and puffed. He hated to think of her suffering so much, but what could he do? There was a limit to how often he could say, ‘I’m right here, darling, you can do it,’ in sympathetic yet determined tones.

But the baby finally emerged just after midnight, red, angry, but complete with a shock of dark hair. Lucie started laughing then crying, then doing both at the same time. Ben just gawped open-mouthed. His son! A brand new human being, alive and perfectly formed. He stared, unable to comprehend the magnitude of what they had achieved.

‘Look, he’s got a little willy,’ Lucie managed to say between sniffs and sobs and giggles and Ben found himself suddenly laughing too, marvelling at the tiny, eight-and-a-half-pound baby cradled in her arms. A son. He had a son. Truly, unbelievably amazing.

‘And to think you thought he would be a girl,’ said Lucie.

‘He’s perfect. Just perfect. You’re so clever, Luce, so, so clever. I can’t believe it. I just can’t believe it.’

Lucie looked at him, laughing again despite her tear-stained face, then kissed the baby’s head. ‘Thomas,’ she said, ‘just Thomas.’

‘He’s bloody perfect!’ said Ben again. He couldn’t understand what he was feeling; it was all too overwhelming. Shock, relief, happiness, fear, deep love. As the three of them lay there on the brithing bed, he knew this was the most intense emotion he had ever experienced.

Vanessa came over in the morning, with Terrence (her ‘boyfriend’ who, at forty-six, was eight years younger than Lucie’s mother) hovering uncertainly in the background. She brought with her a huge bouquet of flowers and clucked ecstatically over her first grandson. But Ben could tell Lucie was exhausted, and after the initial elation of the previous night, saw her start to become a bit riled and scratchy. A couple of hours after the birth, she’d been moved from the birthing room to the maternity ward, but in there other newborns were wailing and she found it hard to sleep. Then, just as she dropped off, the paediatrician came round to check on her, followed by the midwife, who immediately started asking her about her sex life and advising her not to have sexual intercourse for at least six weeks. Ben watched as Lucie’s expression turned from one of extreme exhaustion to that of utter disgust.

‘Couldn’t think of anything worse, quite frankly,’ Lucie told her sharply, adding, ‘Anyway, my fanny feels so huge I think Ben would get lost in it if he tried.’

Then they were left to it. No one else really bothered with them, although either side the constant pitch of crying babies became almost unbearable. Thomas soon started screaming too, his tiny head screwing itself into a deep red contortion of anger.

‘What the fuck am I supposed to do?’ Lucie asked Ben, just a hint of panic in her voice.

‘I don’t know – feed him, I suppose,’ suggested Ben.

‘This is so embarrassing. I mean, I just feel really self-conscious,’ Lucie told him in hushed tones as she unbuttoned her nightdress. It was miraculous, Ben thought to himself, that Thomas knew precisely what to do, latching onto Lucie’s breast hungrily.

‘How is it?’ asked Ben gingerly.

‘Fucking painful, just like everything else to do with birth,’ said Lucie, gazing down at the little bundle sucking noisily. Ben watched, intrigued at this new use for Lucie’s breast.

Then he said, ‘Look, darling, what about this maternity nurse? What with this deal and everything, won’t you reconsider?’

‘Darling, I know you worry, but I really don’t want anyone telling me what to do every five minutes. I’ve said I’ll manage. Anyway, could you get me a cup of tea? I suddenly feel very dry.’ He noticed her pull the sheets up, limiting further the amount of flesh on public view.

‘Course. Sure you’ll be all right?’

Lucie just smiled at him weakly, so he kissed her, then kissed Thomas, and wandered off towards the canteen, a place he’d discovered early on the previous afternoon.

But on his return, he discovered both his wife and son fast asleep, Lucie’s arm gently supporting Thomas. He watched them for a moment. It was hardly surprising she was exhausted; he felt exhausted himself, physically and mentally. Placing her tea on the grape-and flower-table by her bed, he looked at his mobile, thought about ringing the office, then put it away again. Just for a few hours, he could be forgiven for not thinking about work, and for concentrating on his wife and son instead.

With contented thoughts swimming around his mind, he decided to quickly wander outside and get some fresh air. The sanitized constant-warmth seemed suddenly cloying, almost stultifying, and he started walking increasingly briskly to escape. Endless squeaky corridors of shiny linoleum led into one another, but eventually he found the exit and walked out, blinking in the bright morning sunshine. To his left flowed the river and opposite, the great Gothic minarets and towers of the Houses of Parliament. Images from the future filled his mind: his son clinging onto his hand as they walked down to the playground, or at the beach building sandcastles together; then later playing football in the park. Thomas would love him unconditionally, depend upon him, think him the best dad in whole wide world. They were good thoughts. His family was going to be different – they were going to be happy, carefree and close, and he was always going to look after them.

Sitting on a bench, looking out across the river, relief surged through him. Lucie was fine. Thomas was fine. Nothing had gone wrong. Their child was perfect. Throughout the pregnancy, he’d feared that Thomas would be handicapped or deformed in some way, and worried about how they’d cope. Worse was the worry that Lucie would die in childbirth. He knew this was ridiculous and that he was indulging in Bronteesque melodrama, but he couldn’t help himself. As the birth drew closer, these fears and his desire to protect her constantly increased dramatically. The previous evening, there had been times when Lucie appeared to be in so much pain he felt stabs of panic that she was about to leave him, one final gasp before life slipped away for ever. It didn’t bear thinking about; he’d be lost without her. She was the only person who made him feel safe, secure and, most importantly, deeply loved. How lucky he was. So, so bloody lucky.

A deep wave of emotion engulfed him. It rose from the pit of his stomach, up his throat, bursting to express itself, and he knew he was about to cry. Desperately trying to repress it, he felt the water welling up at the edges of his eyes, making it hard to focus. Then he could take it no more. Relief, intense happiness, and gratitude for the twin gifts of his wife and son, overwhelmed him so completely that he began to cry. A couple walked by, but Ben looked at them without apology, making no attempt to halt the flow. He stood up and clutched the railings, but as his breathing juddered and he struggled to control himself, he realized he was no longer crying, but laughing instead.

Twenty-four hours after first going in to hospital, they were back at home, surrounded by flowers. Ben insisted Lucie sit down on the sofa with Thomas and do nothing, while he took the flowers and fetched anything she required. But despite this activity on his part, all the tension of the previous weeks had oozed out of him; he felt soft-limbed, his heartbeat back to normal.

Pausing to sit with Lucie, and admiring his son’s perfection for a while more, Ben wondered whether fatherhood would always be this good.

‘Don’t you think we should start ringing a few people?’ asked Lucie sleepily.

‘Probably should really.’ Ben grabbed the phone and began tapping in a number.

‘Who are you calling?’

‘Steve.’

‘Steve? Can’t you forget about work for just today?’

‘Darling, you know I can’t. I haven’t spoken to him once yet today.’ He’d felt even Carl wouldn’t have expected him to work that morning, but now they were back at home, it was his duty to call in. If only the deal could have happened two weeks before. He put the phone to his ear. ‘Oh hi, Steve. What’s the latest? Is the press release in yet? … It is. OK … A boy. Thomas … Fine … Sure … Bye.’

He looked at his wife. ‘Sorry, darling, but you know I’m only doing it for us. And now we have Thomas there’s even more reason to work hard. There’s someone else to think about now.’

‘I know,’ said Lucie gently, leaning her head against him.

Ben punched in another number.

‘Who now?’ asked Lucie.

‘Harry.’

‘What about your brothers though, darling?’

‘They can wait. Harry?’

‘Ben! How’re you feeling?’

‘Unbelievably content. Bit weird.’

‘How’s Lucie?’

‘Couldn’t be better. More tired than me,’ Ben told him.

‘Get him to come over,’ Lucie whispered loudly.

‘What, now?’ Ben replied, moving the handset away from his head.

‘Yes. Well, later. I feel I need to see someone normal and I want to show off our creation.’

Ben put the phone back to his head. ‘Why don’t you come over after work. Bring Julia if you like.’

‘I’d love to, mate, but I don’t want to get in your way. I mean, don’t you want to be on your own?’

‘Not at all – we need to show off Thomas. As long as you’re not expecting supper.’

‘Tell you what, I’ll bring it. Some Chinese or something.’

‘Harry, you just don’t know how good that sounds. Thank you.’

‘And Ben? I can’t wait to see Thomas. You must feel fantastic’.

‘Yeah, it’s brilliant – but very strange. Amazing though, really, really amazing. More than amazing. And it makes you unable to talk properly.’

Harry laughed. ‘I’ll see you later,’ He rang off.

The house soon looked even more like a hothouse. But despite the arrival of yet more flowers and their deep happiness, Ben and Lucie felt strangely alone and vulnerable that afternoon. They simply didn’t know what to do. Lucie had tried to change a nappy, with Ben watching.

‘Bloody hell,’ he said, ‘how could so much poo come out of such a small bottom?’

‘God knows,’ replied Lucie, trying to keep her face well away, ‘but the pong and mess of it is revolting. Makes me feel quite nauseated. I also feel really uncomfortable. I think I’d like my old body back now.’

‘I’m sure it won’t take long,’ said Ben.

‘It better not. I can hardly walk and I’ve got a flabby, over-stretched stomach. You don’t know how lucky you are,’ she told him.

‘You’ll feel better once you’ve slept properly,’ suggested Ben. Thomas chose that moment to start crying again, prompting Lucie to pick him up hurriedly and try and calm him down.

‘Well, you’re very beautiful even if your mummy’s gross and unattractive, aren’t you, darling?’ she said, gently kissing her son’s puce little head.

‘I think you’re both beautiful,’ said Ben.

‘Creep. Isn’t Daddy a great fat liar? Here,’ she said, lifting Thomas, ‘you take him.’

Carefully, Ben cradled his son in his arms. So tiny. Tiny but perfect.

‘He looks even smaller in your great big arms,’ said Lucie.

‘He does, doesn’t he? But I meant what I said, darling. I don’t think you look gross at all.’

Having settled back down in her bed, Lucie reached out for Thomas once more. Rocking him gently, she stared pensively ahead, while Ben wondered whether he should say something sympathetic or begin phoning again. He was just reaching for the phone when Lucie said, ‘Do you think I’m going to be a natural mother?’

‘Course you will. What a stupid thing to say,’ said Ben immediately.

She paused again, then added, ‘I hope so. I just feel so …’

‘What?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Try.’

‘No, honestly. I’m being silly. I suppose I just don’t feel ready for this. I wasn’t prepared for the birth, really. It was horrible. You know, I couldn’t get out of that place soon enough.’

‘Well, you’re safe now. You did it, you know. You should feel bloody proud. I do.’

‘Hm,’ said Lucie, and closed her eyes.

Thomas had calmed down and, like his mother, seemed to be sleeping. Ben had to admit he did look rather tiny and fragile. And it did feel odd and slightly unnatural when he held him and tried to soothe him. His head seemed so floppy, his body so weak: Ben wasn’t sure if he was hurting the little fellow by clasping too tight. But they’d be all right, he was sure. It was only natural that parenthood should seem a bit strange to begin with, just like anything new. Lucie was going to be a perfect mother. How could she not be? Leaving his wife and son asleep, he quietly opened his lap-top and began poring over the first draft of the press release.

It was blatantly obvious Julia had a natural affinity with babies. While Harry kept hugging both Lucie and Ben and telling them he felt emotional, Julia immediately dropped into baby-talk and Thomas stopped crying instantly. Then from her bag she produced a present, a gift-wrapped Tiffany’s silver rattle.

‘Oh Julia, how brilliant of you!’ exclaimed Lucie, ‘Tiffany & Co – my favourite!’

‘However did you find the time to get there?’ asked Ben incredulously.

‘Ah ha!’ Julia winked, then confessed, ‘I bought it last weekend actually.’

Ben kissed her again on the cheek. ‘That’s very thoughtful of you – and really appreciated.’

‘Mine’s coming,’ Harry told them, his flowers already swamped by the florist shop emerging from the living room.

There was a slightly nervous pause as they all regarded Thomas, who, miraculously, was still not crying.

‘He’s gorgeous,’ Julia told them.

‘Perfect,’ agreed Ben.

Lucie looked proudly down at him. ‘Yes he is, and all curled up, bless him, wishing he was still inside. It must be such a shock arriving in the outside world. Would you like to hold him?’

‘I’d love to – if you’re sure you don’t mind?’ Julia replied, leaning over carefully and unleashing a waft of scent despite the abundance of flowers.

‘You’re a natural,’ said Ben, full of admiration as Julia, elegant as ever, bobbed Thomas up and down to an accompaniment of soothing superlatives.

Lucie turned to Harry. ‘Would you like to hold him too?’

‘Me? Oh no, it’s fine – I’d probably only go and make him blub.’

As Julia handed Thomas back, he screwed up his tiny face before slowly turning red, and beginning to cry once more.

‘He wants some dinner, don’t you, darling?’ cooed Julia.

‘I think you might be right,’ said Lucie, looking about uncertainly.

‘Are you OK, darling?’ asked Ben.

‘I’m embarrassed – I think I should go into another room.’ Lucie made to lift herself up from the sofa.

‘Don’t be ridiculous, it’s only us. Anyway, you’ve got to get used to it,’ Ben told her.

‘Yes, don’t mind me,’ added Julia.

‘OK, but no sniggering, agreed Lucie, gingerly lifting her shirt as discreetly as she could.

Ben could see Harry looking at Lucie quite mesmerized, and then she noticed too.

‘Harry, stop staring,’ said Lucie sharply.

‘Sorry, I can’t help it. I’ve never seen anyone do that before.’

‘Well, what do you think happens? You know, Harry, this is painful enough as it is without you gawping.’

‘OK, OK, sorry, but it’s fascinating – seeing breasts used for something other than sex.’

‘Harry, honestly,’ chided Julia.

‘It is. I mean, look at the way he just knows what to do. But I’ll turn my back if it bothers you.’

‘It did this morning – in the hospital, with everyone there – but Ben’s right, I’m going to have to get used to it. He’s needs a lot of feeding so I’ll have to overcome my embarrassment and whip my tits out whenever. You see how my standards are already slipping.’

‘Come on, Luce, you’ve just given birth, for God’s sake. What do you expect?’ Ben put an arm round her.

‘Anyway, we should probably let you get on with it,’ said Julia.

‘Yes, leave the new family to their first night together,’ added Harry, standing up and clapping his hands together.

‘No, it’s OK, stay a bit longer,’ said Lucie quickly.

‘Yes, why don’t you?’ put in Ben. ‘You’ve only just got here. We could maybe watch a video or something. And anyway, aren’t you staying for supper?’

Harry looked expectantly at Julia.

‘No,’ she said firmly, ‘the Chinese is for you two. Honestly, you should be on your own. With Thomas.’ She smiled at Thomas again. ‘You’ll be fine,’ she added to Ben and Lucie.

They smiled weakly. Ahead lay the daunting prospect of parenthood, and their first night with Thomas under their roof.