A Winter's Wish Come True Page 7

  Chapter Seven

  Being an only child, the only experience I’ve ever had of ultrasound scans is from watching What to Expect When You’re Expecting and Bridget Jones’s Baby. From what I’ve seen, it seems to be the moment where everything comes together for the woman. Any doubts she might’ve had about becoming a mum evaporate the second she hears the baby’s heartbeat and sees its sketchy frame on the monitor for the first time.

  However, as I discover when I go to my own appointment, the movies leave out the slightly less romantic elements. Such as drinking a huge bottle of water because it apparently helps the sonographer get a better view of the baby.

  ‘How much longer is this going to take?’ I ask, chugging down the last of the water and setting the bottle down at my feet. ‘I feel like I’m about to burst!’

  ‘They’re probably just running late,’ Scott says, the picture of relaxation with his fingers laced at the base of his neck. ‘I’m sure it won’t be much longer now.’

  ‘Well if they could see us before my bladder explodes, that’d be good,’ I huff. I tap my foot on the floor and glance at the other expectant mums as I try to calm my nerves. I wonder what their stories are: some of them barely look sixteen, while others are much older than me. Some have loving partners holding their hands and telling them everything will be fine, some are alone.

  And then there’s me.

  I’m trapped somewhere in between those two sets of women. I’m not alone because Scott’s here, but we aren’t together. There’s been a fragile peace of sorts between us since the day my mum found out about the baby, but who knows how long that’ll last?

  ‘I hope the scan goes OK today,’ I say, locking my fingers together. ‘What if they find something wrong with the baby or …?’

  My words trickle to a halt when Scott takes my hand in his. Although I’d sworn not to let it happen again after the argument outside the doctor’s, I can’t deny how much I love feeling his warm, strong hand close in around mine.

  ‘It’ll be fine, Cleo,’ he says with a soft smile, squeezing my hand as gently as he can. ‘We get to meet the baby for the first time today and that’ll be amazing. Might even get to hear the heartbeat too.’

  I swallow hard, trying to let his words comfort and soothe me like they used to. I look down at our hands, which are still locked together, and he takes that as his cue to let go.

  ‘Sorry,’ he says, looking away from me. ‘Old habits die hard, I guess.’

  I reach over and take his hand in mine. ‘Don’t worry about it. Y-you don’t have to let go if you don’t want to.’

  We exchange smiles and I feel my shoulder muscles relax a little. Maybe Scott’s right, maybe everything will be OK.

  A voice from nearby pierces the companionable silence. ‘Cleopatra Jones?’

  ‘That’s me,’ I say, getting to my feet and heading over to the scary-looking sonographer. She looks like Shrek might have, if Tim Burton had been the director.

  ‘Come this way,’ she snaps. ‘Quickly, we’re running behind!’

  As she leads the way down a dimly-lit corridor, I feel my breath hitch in my chest. This is more Nightmare on Elm Street than What to Expect When You’re Expecting.

  *

  The movie moment happens pretty soon after. Gladys, the scary sonographer, squirts some freezing gel on my stomach and moves the transducer over it. I keep my gaze fixed on the monitor as Scott holds my hand, hoping with everything I have that there’s nothing wrong with the baby. My breathing becomes laboured as I wait for an image to pop up on the screen. It seems to be taking a long time …

  ‘I-is there definitely a baby in there?’ I ask, feeling silly for asking such a stupid question. ‘I mean, it’s not been a huge mistake? I am really pregnant?’

  ‘Of course you are.’ Gladys’s tone is edged with ice. ‘You wouldn’t have been referred to the maternity unit otherwise.’

  ‘Alright, she was only asking a question!’ Scott glares at Gladys and I honestly can’t tell who’d win in a fight between them. ‘It’s taking quite a while to get an image on the screen and we’d like to know if everything’s as it should be.’

  Gladys digs the transducer deeper into my abdomen and a ghostly, sketchy image appears on the screen. My heart skips a beat when I realise I’m looking at my baby. Our baby.

  Gladys points a large finger at the right-hand side of the screen. ‘That’s the head there. The abdomen is in this section here …’ She pauses and circles the baby’s midsection. ‘And those are the feet.’

  ‘It looks so … human!’ I say, blinking back tears. ‘Look at it, Scott!’

  He smiles and squeezes my hand tighter. ‘It’s amazing, isn’t it? Do you think we could hear the heartbeat?’

  Gladys obliges and moments later, I hear the most amazing sound in the world. The baby’s heartbeat. It reminds me of lifting a conch shell to my ear when I was a kid, and hearing the roar of the sea through it. I can finally see why the first scan is such an emotional moment in movies.

  ‘That’s our baby,’ I whisper to Scott.

  I turn to look at him just in time to see him wipe some tears from his cheeks.

  He nods, trying to keep his emotions back. ‘It is! We made that little person together.’

  As my gaze switches back to the baby on the screen, I feel a huge rush of emotions. My excitement to meet the little human growing inside me is tempered by a paralysing fear of what’s to come in the next six months. My body will change beyond all recognition as it stretches to accommodate its new guest. I’ll be solely responsible for this baby’s wellbeing. Her or she will look to me for everything: food, water, shelter, love, education. What’s more, they’ll think I have all the answers to life’s big questions, like ‘are zebras black with white stripes, or white with black stripes?’

  I’m going to be a mum.

  *

  After picking up our collection of ultrasound photos, we’re ready to leave. Scary Gladys assures us (well, barks at us) that everything’s fine with the baby and there’s nothing to be concerned about. I tuck the photos away safely in my handbag and prepare to head back to the car with Scott.

  That’s when I see her.

  She still looks like she could walk down a runway, even when she’s sporting a pair of grey tracksuit bottoms and a loose-fitting tank top.

  Amanda.

  ‘Of course,’ I murmur. ‘Of course she’s here today.’

  ‘What did you say?’ Scott says. His gaze flicks upward and he nods when he spots her. ‘Oh blimey, look who it is!’

  I swat him in the stomach. ‘Shh, don’t draw attention to yourself! With any luck, she might walk right past us.’

  ‘Oh my god, Cleo!’

  That’ll be a no to her walking past us then.

  ‘Hi Amanda! What are you doing here?’

  She shoots me a dreamy smile and pats her stomach. ‘Here to see the little one for the first time! I’m super excited. Have you just been for your scan too?’

  I nod, patting my bag. ‘Sure have! We’ve just been in with Gladys, she’s … well she’s efficient anyway!’ I notice she’s standing by herself. ‘Is anyone here with you?’

  Her bright grin falters a little, but she styles it out with a light giggle. ‘Oh no, Steve couldn’t make it today! He had to work, you know how it is.’

  I nod, not really believing her. ‘Well, couldn’t your mum come with you instead?’

  ‘She’s busy!’ Amanda snaps, correcting herself seconds later. ‘I don’t mind being here by myself, really. Don’t worry about it.’

  There’s an edge to her tone that warns me not to go any further. I think about offering to stay with her, but something tells me that wouldn’t go down too well.

  ‘Well, I’d … I’d better go,’ she says, gesturing towards the row of seats in the waiting area. ‘Don’t want to make Gladys angry!’

  Before I can say a proper goodbye, she stalks off to find an available seat. I glance at her sitting on her ow
n, folding her arms across her burgeoning bump and avoiding eye contact with everyone around her. My stomach drops as I see her looking so alone. Although she’ll probably hate me for it and think I pity her, I have to do something.

  ‘She shouldn’t be here on her own today,’ I whisper to Scott. ‘It’s not fair. I’ll go and sit with her.’

  I take a step towards Amanda, but she’s quickly whisked down the Corridor of Doom by Scary Gladys. I try to see which room they’ve gone into, but I’m too late. Sighing with defeat, I head back to Scott. For all Amanda’s fake bliss and happiness, something tells me things aren’t what they seem with her. She’s always been good at putting on a front and making her life seem perfect when it isn’t. The last time we saw each other, she’d been put on gardening leave from her high-powered job and had lost all her fake friends.

  What secret is she keeping now?

  Chapter Eight

  Scott and I drive home from the hospital, keeping a steady stream of small talk going, mostly about the baby and how surreal it was seeing it on the monitor for the first time. I can feel dark thoughts about how my body will change circling the outer edges of my mind, but I do my best to ignore them.

  You’ll never be the same again.

  Nobody will ever find you attractive again.

  I force myself back to the present, determined to drown the thoughts out. If I don’t listen to them, they’ll go away. I have to focus on the baby and not my own twisted thought patterns. That’s the only way I can be the best mum possible.

  ‘I expected it to look like a peanut or a baked bean, but it actually looked human!’ Scott chuckles as he pulls up near my cottage. ‘And the heartbeat was just … amazing.’

  I can still hear the heartbeat roaring in my ears. Whether it’s a comforting sound or not, I honestly can’t decide.

  ‘Don’t you think it made it seem so much more … real?’ My voice is barely above a whisper. ‘Like we’re actually having a baby? It seemed … I dunno, like an abstract concept until this afternoon. Now I know there’s actually a person in there!’

  I try to mask my abject terror with a light-hearted chuckle. Scott leans over and puts a hand on my shoulder. I half-curse, half-welcome his uncanny ability to guess how I’m feeling, no matter how hard I try to disguise it. I look at him and picture Amanda all alone at her first ultrasound appointment, thinking how I could have easily been in that position myself. We need to talk and figure out where we both stand.

  ‘Cleo … I know this pregnancy was unexpected and that the circumstances are a bit unconventional, but you really will be a great mum. If it helps, I’m scared too. My dad wasn’t around for most of my life and I’d do anything to avoid turning out like him. I’ve never changed a nappy or made up a bottle before, but I’m kind of excited to learn. Especially with you.’

  I nod and try to swallow the lump in my throat. Why does he have to be so bloody lovely? ‘Do you fancy coming in for a coffee? We’ve got loads we need to talk about.’

  He stares at me for a moment, like he hasn’t quite picked up what I’ve said. ‘Um … OK then, if you’re sure?’

  I nod and get out of the car. As I watch Scott follow suit, I feel a rush of nostalgia for our relationship.

  ‘This is like old times, isn’t it?’ The words come out before I can stop them. ‘When you used to drop me off here after a date.’

  My comment catches him off-guard and he isn’t sure how to react at first. ‘Yeah,’ he says after a few moments. ‘I suppose it is.’

  We make our way to Larkspur Cottage, its baby blue frontage even more vibrant in the summer sunshine. It’ll be pumpkin spice lattes and cosy jumper weather soon enough though.

  ‘Coffee?’ I ask when we’re both inside.

  Scott nods and I can tell he’s not entirely comfortable being in the house. It didn’t show when he was helping me with Mum’s reaction to the pregnancy, but I can see he’s thinking about when he used to live here.

  ‘Go and sit down, I’ll bring it to you,’ I say.

  Instead of going to the living room, he follows me to the kitchen. With remarkable ease, we slip into our old roles: I buzz about getting the cups ready, while Scott digs out the biscuit tin and picks out our favourites. When I can’t reach the mugs thanks to being ridiculously short, he comes up behind me and lifts them down, one hand gently brushing my hip. I try to ignore the rush of warmth that travels over my skin at his touch. He retreats to his favourite spot, where two sections of counter join together, and makes himself comfortable. When I turn around and see him standing there, a horde of memories comes flooding back.

  Old habits really do die hard.

  ‘So,’ he says when I hand him a cup of steaming hot coffee, ‘what did you want to talk about?’

  We sit opposite each other at the kitchen table. There’s a hopeful look on his face that unsettles me. It’s as though he’s expecting this conversation to head in a particular direction.

  ‘It’s about Amanda.’ I wrap my hands around my coffee mug and stare down at it, hoping it’ll give me the right words. ‘She looked so lost today, Scott. Her first ultrasound and she had to go by herself! That’s not fair, is it?’

  He shakes her head. ‘No, it’s not. It’s a big thing and nobody should go through it by themselves. I’m sure someone will go with her next time though.’

  I nod slowly and look up at him. ‘Scott, that could’ve been me today. I could’ve been the one sitting by myself, scared out of my mind that they were going to find something wrong with the baby and with nobody to turn to. Things haven’t exactly been smooth sailing between us, have they?’

  It’s Scott’s turn to look away now. He turns his attention to the kitchen window and stares off to the bottom of the garden.

  ‘Cleo, you’d never have been alone. Surely you must know that? Whatever’s happened with our relationship, I’m not a deadbeat dad. We might’ve messed up our last night together, but I’m back for good now and I’m not going anywhere. My dad did that to my mum and I hated him for it.’

  I feel myself bristle at the ‘we might’ve messed up’ comment. My better judgement tells me to let it go over my head, but when have I ever listened to that?

  ‘Well, we didn’t mess it up, did we? You did. I woke up and you were gone, Scott. How do you think that made me feel? You gave me all that nonsense about wanting to give me space; why couldn’t you just be honest with me and say you regretted it? And you were the one who said you were going to Australia whether I wanted to or not. But that’s just me being technical.’ My voice is remarkably even, considering I can feel my blood boil in my veins.

  I can see him grit his teeth from the other side of the table. A tiny prickle of excitement sparks somewhere inside me. There’s always been a certain thrill in winding Scott up. Although we aren’t together anymore, I can’t ignore the anticipation as I wait for his reaction.

  ‘Let’s not rake over old ground eh? We’ve done this to death now; I’ve apologised until I’m blue in the face, but you’ve made it pretty clear you’re not interested in letting me make amends for what happened.’

  It’s taking everything I have not to wipe the satisfied smirk off his face. I clench my hands into fists and try to regulate my heartbeat. As our eyes meet, the air crackles and hisses with tension.

  ‘Go on then Scott, here’s your chance to start making amends. If you think you can sell me on your side of the story, be my guest. If you’re really sorry for everything that’s happened, make me believe you.’

  I arch an eyebrow and match his smirk with one of my own. Am I really flirting with my ex-boyfriend? The father of my baby, the one who smashed our relationship into a million pieces by moving to the other side of the world?

  Yes, yes I am.

  ‘Oh I learned a long time ago that I can’t make you do anything. You’re a law unto yourself and you always will be.’

  His voice is low and sounds super-sexy. I feel goosebumps prick my skin as I look at him. As much as I d
on’t want to admit it, he’s still bloody attractive. I can tell from the look in his eyes that he can sense the undercurrent to our conversation. The memory of him brushing my hip with his hand as he got the mugs down comes back to me and I find myself longing for his touch again.

  No.

  This has to stop.

  ‘Biscuit?’

  Scott looks surprised by the sudden switch in conversation topic, but nods anyway. I hop out of my seat and head over to the cupboard where I keep the biscuit tin. I reach up to try and grab it, but my fingers skim the edge of the lid and no more.

  ‘Could you come and help me please?’ I ask. ‘You’ve stuck the tin back too far.’

  Scott walks over to where I’m standing. I consider moving out of the way, but stay where I am instead, gripping the countertop for support. His tall, athletic frame presses up against mine as he reaches up to grab the biscuit tin with ease. His t-shirt rides up a little and I catch a tantalising glimpse of his toned abs.

  ‘Your biscuits, Madam,’ he says, handing me the tin. I take it from him and put it down on the counter.

  ‘Scott … I know things haven’t been easy between us recently. We’ve gone from spending the night together to … well, where we are now. I think we should sort out where we stand with each other before the baby comes. I don’t want us arguing or at each other’s throats when we’ve got more important things to think about.’

  He nods and looks deep into my eyes. ‘Nothing’s changed for me, Cleo. I still love you as much as I ever did. If I could go back to the day I left you and do things differently, I would. I’m sorry things got so out of hand; I guess I was just so in love with the idea of us chasing dreams together, I forgot to check we were on the same page. Then we just got angrier and angrier at each other, didn’t we? It should never have escalated that far and I’m sorry it did.’

  ‘I just … I wish we hadn’t had so long apart. We were so happy before Australia came along, then things just seemed to change. You wanted to go and I didn’t, but I didn’t want to hold you back either. It was such an amazing opportunity for you, so that’s why I didn’t fight harder to get you to stay. When you left, it made me wonder if I’d ever been enough for you or if I’d just fooled myself into thinking I was.’