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Last Orders at the Star and Sixpence Page 13


  Owen glanced at the clock. ‘I’m sure she will. But don’t you think we ought to get going soon? We’re due at the hospital at eleven and parking can be tricky sometimes.’

  It was later than she’d realised, Nessie thought as she checked the time for herself. They didn’t want to be late, not for something as momentous as seeing their baby for the first time. ‘Okay, I’ll tell her later. And I can show her the scan photo too – goodness knows she needs something to cheer her up.’

  No matter how much her sister tried to put a brave face on things, Nessie knew she was still miserable over the situation with Gabe. And it couldn’t be easy for her, seeing him every day. Maybe Christmas would help, Nessie thought as she pulled on her coat; there was something irresistibly romantic about it after all. It had certainly made all the difference to her and Owen at the beginning of their relationship.

  The roads were wet on the way to the hospital. Nessie was glad they had plenty of time; Owen was an excellent driver and knew the country lanes well, but she much preferred not having to hurry. They found a parking spot without too much trouble, too; a heavily pregnant young woman offered them her ticket with a smile as they pulled into the space just outside the antenatal department. ‘There’s still an hour or so left,’ she said. ‘With a bit of luck, they’ll still be running to time in there and you won’t need to top up.’

  ‘Half an hour early,’ Owen observed as they made their way inside. ‘Fancy a coffee?’

  ‘Make it a herbal tea and you’ve got yourself a date,’ Nessie replied coyly.

  They checked in with the receptionist just before eleven o’clock and took a seat among the other expectant mothers in varying stages of pregnancy. Some were with their partners, one or two were alone.

  Owen looked around with interest. ‘You know, I don’t think this has changed a bit in the last ten years.’

  Nessie smiled. ‘It must have done.’

  Owen pointed at a table stacked with dog-eared magazines. ‘No, I’m pretty sure those are the same ones. I read an article that said Louboutins were the new Jimmy Choos. I’ve never forgotten it.’

  He looked so serious that Nessie was almost convinced. Then his mouth twitched, just the tiniest bit, and she burst out laughing so loudly that the other patients turned to stare at them.

  ‘Vanessa Chapman?’ a voice called, cutting across Nessie’s laughter.

  She turned to see a middle-aged woman in a white coat holding a folder. ‘That was quick,’ she said to Owen. ‘Come on.’

  ‘My name is Elspeth and I’m going to be doing your scan today,’ the woman said, as she ushered them into a dimly lit room that held a bed and a large, unwieldy computer screen. She checked her notes. ‘This is your first baby, isn’t it?’

  ‘Yes,’ Nessie said.

  ‘No,’ Owen said at exactly the same time, then laughed. ‘Nessie’s first but my second.’

  Elspeth smiled. ‘I understand. Well, Nessie, if you’d like to pop onto the bed, we’ll get started.’

  Nessie lay back, pulling up her top and unbuttoning her jeans as Elspeth instructed.

  ‘The gel is a bit cold, I’m afraid,’ the sonographer said, squeezing a snail trail of clear jelly across Nessie’s stomach. ‘But it’s necessary.’

  An explosion of butterflies fluttered inside Nessie and she knew the anticipation she felt must be showing on her face because Owen squeezed her hand.

  ‘Here we go,’ Elspeth said, smoothing the gel with the probe. ‘Just a small amount of pressure, to make sure I see everything I need to.’

  The screen was angled away, hiding it from Nessie’s view. She resisted the temptation to crane her neck and catch a first glimpse of the baby.

  ‘It’s easier if you relax,’ Elspeth said, moving the probe around and pressing into Nessie’s skin.

  Seconds became minutes. The sonographer slid the probe across the gel, down towards the white tissue that protected the waistband of Nessie’s jeans and pushed into her groin. She took a different angle, clicking on the mouse with her other hand, and Nessie imagined each click as a snapshot, selecting the best poses. After a few more movements, she lifted the probe up and placed it on the tray at her elbow.

  Nessie smiled. ‘All done?’

  Elspeth hesitated a fraction of a second. ‘Not quite. I’m going to ask a colleague to check a few things.’

  The words jangled like a discordant wind chime in Nessie’s ears. ‘What? Why?’

  ‘The measurements I’ve taken suggest the baby is smaller than we’d expect for this stage of pregnancy,’ Elspeth said, her tone giving nothing away. She got to her feet and locked the computer screen. ‘I won’t be a moment. Please wait here.’

  The door closed with a click, leaving Nessie staring at Owen with rapidly rising panic. She sat up. ‘The baby is small? Does that mean there’s something wrong?’

  Owen was very still, his face ashen. ‘I think . . .’

  ‘What?’ Nessie said again, his pallor causing her pulse to spike even more.

  He ran an unsteady hand over his face. ‘I think she couldn’t find a heartbeat.’

  A loud roaring started in Nessie’s ears and tiny dots of light danced in front of her eyes. ‘No,’ she whispered, the word catching in her throat. ‘No, no, no.’

  She lay back on the bed, fighting the blackness that came to claim her. Elspeth hadn’t said anything about the baby’s heartbeat – hadn’t even mentioned it. Owen must be wrong.

  ‘It’s just small,’ she said, barely aware she was speaking out loud. ‘She said so. That doesn’t mean there’s a problem, does it? I mean, babies can be small, can’t they?’

  Owen didn’t reply. When Nessie turned her head to look at him, she saw his gaze was fixed on the locked screen, as though he could see past it to the image that lay hidden behind it. A tear bloomed in the corner of her eye and slipped down her cheek, followed by another. She squeezed her eyes shut, forcing the hot ache to subside. There was nothing to cry about. Everything was going to be fine.

  When the door opened again, Elspeth had been joined by another white-coated woman. ‘Hello, my name is Jenna,’ she said. ‘I’m just going to double-check the measurements Elspeth has taken.’

  ‘More gel, I’m afraid,’ Elspeth told Nessie, her voice gentle.

  No one spoke as Jenna repeated the same actions that Elspeth had made ten minutes earlier. The only sound was the clicking of the mouse. Nessie watched the faces of the two women, lit by the glow of the computer screen. Once or twice, Elspeth pointed to something and Jenna moved the probe and pressed it into Nessie’s belly. Finally, Jenna wiped the device and laid it on the tray.

  ‘I’m sorry to have to tell you that we’ve been unable to find a heartbeat,’ she said, her voice quietly sympathetic. ‘The measurements of the foetus suggest growth stopped several weeks ago – you wouldn’t have been aware that anything had happened. Unfortunately, this is quite common – it’s called a missed miscarriage. I really am very sorry.’

  Nessie couldn’t help it; she sobbed. It came from deep inside and felt as though it tore a piece of her heart away as it exploded from her mouth. Tears spilled from her eyes, hot and fast, and the pain was like nothing she’d ever experienced before. Owen sat as still as marble, his expression immovable. He didn’t speak, didn’t make a single sound, as he stared at the computer.

  ‘Are – are you sure?’ Nessie managed, in between sobs. ‘M-maybe you just missed the heartbeat, if the baby is s-s-small.’

  Elspeth reached across and took her hand. ‘I’m afraid there’s no doubt, Vanessa. I am so sorry.’

  Nessie turned her face away and shut her eyes as a fresh wave of misery swept over her. One hand pressed her belly, the way it had so many times since she’d first seen the word Pregnant materialise on the white test wand. More tears forced their way through her burning eyelids and cascaded down her cheeks. Her baby. Her baby.

  ‘We’ll need to talk about what happens next,’ Elspeth said. ‘But there’s no im
mediate rush. We’ll give you some time alone now.’

  Nessie didn’t open her eyes. It was only when the door clicked again that she knew the two women had gone. ‘O-Owen?’

  For a moment, she thought he might have gone too. Then there was a faint rustle of movement and a barely audible sigh that threatened to send another flood of tears coursing across Nessie’s face. ‘I’m here.’

  She turned her head, forcing her hot throbbing eyes to open so she could see him. ‘I’m sorry, Owen.’

  Her words seemed to rouse him. He blinked. ‘What have you got to be sorry for? You heard them say – it happens all the time. It’s nobody’s fault – just one of those things.’

  ‘But I should have known,’ she mumbled. ‘Should have sensed it somehow. Instead of—’ She broke off to take a deep breath against the hurt that threatened to send her spiralling into uncontrollable sobbing again. ‘All those weeks of singing stupid songs and talking to our baby when he or she had slipped away without me even knowing.’

  ‘Don’t,’ he said quietly, taking her hand. ‘Don’t do this to yourself, Nessie. You couldn’t have known.’

  She tried to take comfort in his touch, but it felt like the hand of a stranger; there was none of his usual strength. He must blame her, no matter what he said; who else could be responsible? He was trying to be kind, that was all. Trying to make her feel better when all she wanted to do was curl into a ball and sob.

  A cool breeze caused goosebumps to flower across Nessie’s stomach. She touched the skin, still sticky with gel, and then pulled the tissue from her waistband and began to drag it across her skin in hard, savage movements. Red marks blossomed where she pressed too hard, but she didn’t care. And then she fastened her jeans and pulled down her top, all the while fighting back tears. Her eyes felt swollen and sore already and her nose and throat were thick with snot; she must be a mess of mascara and eyeliner. But it didn’t matter, because the only other person in the room couldn’t bring himself to look at her.

  Nessie swallowed as the lump in her throat grew hard and painful. Owen was hurting too; she could see it in the hunched stillness of his shoulders. She longed to wrap her arms around him – to feel him draw her near and for their sorrows to merge into one great pool of sadness that eventually, in time, might melt away. But the rigid set of his body stopped her from reaching out. His dark-eyed gaze was fixed on the floor and she wasn’t even sure he knew she was there.

  The minutes ticked by. Eventually, there was a light tap at the door, and Elspeth appeared again. She took her seat in front of the computer and turned her back to it, facing Nessie and Owen.

  ‘I know this will be hard for you to think about now, but we have to consider your health,’ she said, gazing at Nessie. ‘Since your body doesn’t seem to be miscarrying the foetus on its own, I strongly recommend you undergo a procedure to clear your womb as soon as possible.’

  Nessie gripped the metal sides of the bed so hard her fingers hurt. ‘But what if you’re wrong?’

  Elspeth’s eyes were steady. ‘I’m afraid there really isn’t any doubt. And the sooner you undergo the procedure, the sooner we can get you back to full health. Then you can start to think about the future.’

  The future, Nessie thought, and her head swam once more. An hour ago, she’d thought her future held a baby. Now it was just a yawning pit of nothing.

  ‘How soon can it be done?’ Owen asked, his voice raspy.

  The sonographer consulted a sheet of paper she’d brought back in with her. ‘We have an appointment in three days’ time – on Friday. It involves a general anaesthetic, and you’ll need to be gentle with yourself for a few days afterwards, but there shouldn’t be any long-term effects.’

  Nessie felt her fingers touch her stomach once more, protective and fearful at the same time. ‘I don’t know—’

  ‘You don’t need to decide today,’ Elspeth said gently. ‘I’ll give you a number you can call when you’ve had time to think. But try not to leave it too long – it’s you we’re worried about now.’

  Owen spoke then, but Nessie found it hard to focus on the words. How was she supposed to make a decision like this so soon after her world had been tipped upside down? She wasn’t ready. She might never be ready.

  ‘Nessie?’ Owen had one hand on her shoulder and was shaking it gently. ‘It’s time to go.’

  She stared at him numbly for a moment, then nodded.

  ‘I’m sorry it was such sad news,’ Elspeth said, squeezing Nessie’s arm. ‘But you’re going to be fine. I promise.’

  Again, Nessie nodded. And then she followed Owen out into the waiting room, where she didn’t dare look up at the round-bellied women who weren’t failures like her, and out to the car park. It was still raining and she let the raindrops fall onto her face like cooling kisses that soothed the heat and hurt from her swollen eyes. It was only when she was drenched to the skin and shivering from the cold that she got into the car beside Owen. They drove home in silence. Nessie rested her head against the window as the countryside flashed by, trying not to remember the way she’d felt only an hour or so before, the way she and Owen had been. Nothing would ever be the same again.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The knock on the bedroom door woke Nessie up.

  Kathryn poked her head into the room, smiling. ‘Oh good, you’re awake. You’ve got a visitor.’

  She pulled back the door to reveal Sam, who managed a watery smile. ‘Hey, you. How are you feeling?’

  It was a question Nessie wasn’t sure she could answer. The general anaesthetic had left her woozier than she’d expected; there’d been a moment when she’d first come round when she could have sworn she’d seen their mother standing beside the bed. And now the after-effects of the medication had worn off, she felt tired and empty. Empty, as though something precious had been taken away from her.

  ‘I’m okay,’ she said, trying to smile back. ‘Been better, you know.’

  ‘You’ve certainly looked better,’ Sam said, her voice warm.

  This time, Nessie’s smile was easier. ‘Thanks. I love you too.’

  ‘I’ll go and put the kettle on,’ Kathryn said and she closed the door as she left.

  Sam stepped forwards to perch on the bed beside Nessie. ‘I promise I won’t stay long.’ She reached into her bag and pulled out a box of Italian chocolates. ‘These are from Franny and Henry. She wanted to deliver them herself – I don’t think she trusted me not to eat them – but I managed to put her off.’

  ‘Good,’ Nessie said, feeling weak at the mere thought of having to entertain Franny from her sickbed. ‘Will you thank her for me, though?’

  ‘I will,’ Sam said. She fixed Nessie with a look that radiated concern. ‘But seriously, how are you? I’ve been so worried – you were like a wraith when you came back from the hospital on Tuesday and I’ve barely seen you since.’

  Nessie’s fingers fiddled with the edge of the duvet. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t really feel like facing everyone.’

  ‘Bloody hell, Ness, you don’t have to apologise,’ Sam exclaimed. ‘I can’t even imagine what you’re going through – you and Owen. But you know I’m here for you, right? And don’t even think about rushing back to work. We’re coping perfectly well without you.’

  It was something that had been worrying Nessie. The whole village knew what had happened and she wasn’t sure she was ready to face their well-meaning sympathy yet. In fact, she wasn’t sure she’d ever be ready, but that was a thought for another day. ‘Thank you. I’m fine. Bearing up, you know.’

  Sam studied her. ‘I’m not sure I believe that, but okay. And how’s Owen? Is he looking after you?’

  Owen. Nessie resisted the urge to glance out of the window, to the forge where she knew Owen would be, taking out his suppressed pain and fury on white-hot iron and steel. She wished she could tell Sam the truth, that he’d become introverted and silent and almost someone she wasn’t sure she knew, but it felt disloyal to talk about him behin
d his back when he’d suffered exactly the same loss she had. But the truth was she’d lain in bed beside him each night after that first visit to the antenatal department and she hadn’t known how to reach him. It was as though he’d retreated into an inner castle and pulled up the drawbridge. She knew he was grieving. But she didn’t know how to help.

  ‘He’s doing his best,’ she told Sam eventually. ‘Kathryn says he was the same after Eliza died – quiet and withdrawn. But he took me back to the hospital today and waited while they did what needed to be done. And then he brought me home again.’

  Sam’s eyebrows shot up, as though she didn’t think much of Owen’s bedside manner. ‘That sounds like the bare minimum he should be doing. How is he with you – emotionally, I mean.’

  Nessie hesitated for a fraction of a second, then smiled. ‘He’s fine. Honestly.’

  ‘Hmmm,’ Sam said, clearly far from convinced. ‘Are the two of you talking things through?’

  Once again, Nessie thought of Owen lying sleepless beside her, his back turned. ‘It’s a bit soon. But we will.’ She let out a yawn. ‘Sorry. I’m a bit wiped out.’

  ‘No problem,’ Sam said. ‘I should probably get back anyway, before Laurie and Gabe end up punching each other.’

  ‘What?’ Nessie said, suddenly alarmed. ‘Why would they be punching each other? What’s going on?’

  ‘Nothing!’ Sam said brightly. ‘Just my little joke – forget I mentioned it. Get some rest – I’ll see you soon, okay?’

  She bent to plant a kiss on Nessie’s cheek and then hurried out, leaving Nessie to wonder whether her sister had been joking at all. But her eyelids felt suddenly heavy and her limbs seemed to be made of lead. She turned her head towards the window, gazing at the forge for one last second before sleep came to claim her.

  *

  ‘Ho ho ho, Merry Christmas!’

  The door of the Star and Sixpence slammed back and Micky Holiday stood there, silhouetted against the grey afternoon skies.

  ‘Micky!’ Ruby squealed, jumping from her usual seat by the fire and hurrying over to embrace him. ‘How lovely to see you!’