The Love of My Life(58)

In the end I had to ask her to stop, and she did, because she knew what I was really afraid of: that this baby would have a childhood as lonely as my own.

It was the call from Janice that made up my mind.

Led by one of the PhD students, a small group of us from my department had converged on rocky shore at low tide one Tuesday lunchtime to survey a stretch of exposed rock. We were armed with quadrats, hand lenses and cameras and I felt unusually hopeful, surrounded by friends, working in the hard spring air.

The tide was out, the North Sea thoughtful. Clouds massed on the horizon, where huge tankers lumbered north to Russia and Canada. I was standing on a rock, surrounded in all directions by dank bladderwrack, when my phone rang.

‘Emily?’ said a woman.

I recognised her voice straight away. Jill, Vivi and I had rented one of her films the other day: she only had a small part but she did it very well and we all agreed she was ‘cool’.

‘Yes,’ I said. ‘Janice?’ Although I normally forbade myself from doing it, I felt my hand ascend to my belly, where it rested protectively.

‘Yes,’ she said. Then: ‘Alan, fuck off!’

There was a scuffling sound.

‘I’m so sorry,’ she said, when she came back on the line. ‘I’m looking after my friend’s dog; she’s having an operation. I made the mistake of giving him a biscuit earlier and now he won’t leave me alone.’

I liked her immediately. Granny had always had dogs, and she was always giving them biscuits and swearing at them.

‘Look,’ she went on, ‘I won’t take up your time. I just felt it was strange that we hadn’t spoken yet. I just wanted to say – even though I know Jeremy will have said it a million times – that you mustn’t feel any pressure whatsoever to give your baby up to us. Or to anyone. This is your child, and, God knows, I know how special it must be to be carrying it.’

To my surprise, I laughed. ‘Special isn’t the first word that crosses my mind,’ I said. ‘I mean, it is special, but it’s . . . terrifying.’

Janice laughed, too. Nobody had laughed about my situation until now. It was actually quite refreshing.

‘It’s been a bit of a shitshow for you, hasn’t it?’ she said. ‘I always feared David would do something like this. I could kill him. But all I wanted to say is that we really, truly do not want you to feel trapped. We’ll do our best to make sure you’re OK whatever you decide to do. I just needed to tell you that myself.’

We’ll do our best. They had no control over David Rothschild, and she knew it.

My coursemates, focused on what lurked under rocks and in pooled water, fanned across the shore, surveying, discussing, documenting. A trawler ploughed towards the harbour with a late catch.

‘Thank you,’ I said. ‘But – honestly – I don’t feel pressured at all. Jeremy’s been great.’

‘He is great,’ she agreed. ‘He’s been incredible these last few years.’

I stroked the modest mound of my belly again.

‘Well, I’ll leave it there,’ Janice said. ‘But you’ve got my number now, so call me any time. Or Jeremy. We’re here for you, no matter what you decide.’

The sky brightened momentarily, and an offshore wind played with my hair. ‘Thank you. I really appreciate it. I’ll call you soon.’

A few days previously, a lecturer had told us about a species of seahorse that stays in monogamous relationship for the rest of its life. Everyone had been charmed, of course, but all I’d been able to think about was how the father of my child had not even stayed for breakfast. He had had sex with me; he had kissed me, and then he’d left to get a train back to London and his wife.

Jeremy must have told him how frightened I was. He must have said that I had no parents, no money and no idea what to do. David knew Janice had sent me a mobile phone, and presumably he had the number. And yet, nothing.

Not for a second had I entertained hopes of him leaving his wife and setting up home with me. I wouldn’t have wanted that even if he did. What I needed, simply, was someone to talk to from time to time. And if that wasn’t available – which, of course, it wasn’t – I’d settle for financial security.

Not even that was on the table.

Janice and Jeremy were the only people who seemed to care about me at the moment, besides Jill and Vivi, and the few coursemates I’d told – but what could they do? What did they know?

I needed a grown-up in my corner.

I sat for a while on a rock, thinking about how it would feel to let these people into my life properly, to allow them to help me, to know this sweet baby girl would have a good life with good people. I had no doubt they’d love her. I had no doubt they’d make sure she had everything she needed.

A shower clattered over the beach, backlit by the sun, and my coursemates’ hoods went up. Rain started trickling down my neck so I pulled my coat around my body and tried to do up the zip, but my stomach was too much for it and it broke.

That did it. I gave in and cried, with the rain. The meagre income I received from the woman renting Dad’s house in Plymouth was barely enough to cover my rent up here, let alone maternity clothes. I couldn’t even afford a coat to keep this bump warm and dry. And if I couldn’t afford maternity clothes, how could I possibly afford to keep a child alive? A couple of my closer friends came and huddled round: they’d been keeping an eye on me.