Dot (16 page)

When Dot opened her eyes it was light, but she knew it was early. For a moment she still felt as stiff as the tree, was still straining for the fire engine, but then life exploded around her in its uncompromising intensity and she understood that her mobile was ringing on her bedside table. She reached for it and saw the name flashing up at her: freak. Gerry Loveridge had been sending her texts since she’d made it clear that she wouldn’t be making Mondays a regular visit and she didn’t want to hear whatever madness he was proposing now. But her clock told her that it was 6.12 a.m. and she felt worried by the strangeness of it all.

‘Hello.’

‘Dot. Did you know?’

Dot rubbed her face, wondering if she was having one of those double dreams that you see in films. ‘What?’

‘Did you know about Mavis?’

‘What’s happened to her? Is she all right?’

His tone calmed a bit. ‘You didn’t know, did you?’

‘What are you talking about, Gerry? What’s going on?’

He half laughed. ‘She’s had a baby.’

It was much too early for this. ‘She what?’

‘Last night – well, a few hours ago. She had a little girl.’

‘Oh my God.’

‘Precisely. She didn’t say anything to you?’

‘No.’ The realisation smacked at Dot like a harsh wind.

‘So you don’t know the name of the little shit who got her pregnant?’

‘No.’ It was obvious now, of course. Dot longed desperately to go backwards, to ask Mavis what was wrong properly. She remembered with shame the time she’d forced her to go to Cartertown to buy a dress for Clive and Debbie’s disastrous New Year’s Eve party. She remembered standing in Topshop with Mavis pretending that she didn’t care, refusing to try anything on. She remembered shouting at Mavis at the bus stop, asking her why she was being so moody, what her problem was. She remembered Mavis telling her that she wouldn’t understand, that Dot still lived in a world of easily solvable problems, like equations and essays. Mostly she remembered the outrage she’d felt at this because of her dad. Her dad who obscured everything else.

‘I’m going to kill him, whoever he is,’ Gerry was repeating on a loop in her ear.

‘Where are you?’ Dot asked.

‘Cartertown General.’

Dot hung up and got dressed. The bus to Cartertown ran from seven and she could make it if she hurried. As soon as she was dressed she crept down the stairs, but as she reached her mother’s landing she stopped and listened at her door. The day was so surreal she had an urge to put a marker on it, to take something tangible with her on the odd journey she was about to make. She thought she was just going to look at her, take in a familiar view, but as she peered round the door she saw that her mother was wide awake, lying very still on her back, staring at the ceiling.

‘Dot?’ she said, half sitting up. ‘What is it?’

Dot came into the room, the day dissolving into weirdness around her. How often did her mother lie awake at six-thirty in the morning? How often did she sleep? Dot sat on the edge of her mother’s bed. ‘Mavis’s dad just rang. She’s had a baby.’

Her mother sat up completely at this. ‘A baby? Did you know she was pregnant?’

‘No.’ Then Dot was crying. ‘I can’t believe she didn’t tell me.’

Her mother stroked her hair. ‘I expect she wanted to, Dot. Some things are very hard to say.’

‘What sort of friend am I? Too wrapped up in myself to even notice.’

‘It explains why she’s been acting strangely. Why she said she wasn’t going to university.’ Dot nodded, tears flicking round her face like fireflies. Her mother got out of bed, an air of purposefulness invading the air. ‘Come on, I’ll drive you.’ Dot looked up at her quizzically. ‘I take it that’s why you’re dressed, to go and see her. I’ll drive you.’

Dot thought it was a beautiful day to be born: 12 June 2005. The air was soft and warm, with neither the suffocating heat of summer nor the bite of spring. The sun was shining out of a clear blue sky and the ground seemed to be pulsating with the presence of life. The roads were quiet, curtains were still drawn across windows and only industrious dog walkers watched them drive away. Her mother opened the car window and turned the radio on, Dot presumed to drown out the questioning silence between them. It was as if, now they found themselves in this unusually intimate situation, they didn’t know how to act. What was the weather like on the day I was born? Dot wanted to ask, but the words held too much weight to force them out of her mouth. What was my father like? Was he a nice man? Is he standing right now in Cartertown General taking a first look at his new granddaughter?

They drew into the car park just before eight and Dot’s mum told her she’d wait in the car, to take as long as she needed. Even though the hospital obviously never slept, it still retained an early-morning atmosphere as Dot followed the signs towards maternity. The air felt still and close, expectant almost, as if it was trapped, marking time until someone opened a window. Two nurses in navy-blue uniforms, clipboards under their arms and smiles on their faces, were chatting by the reception desk.

‘Can I help you?’ one of them asked as Dot approached.

‘I’ve come to see my friend, Mavis Loveridge. She just had a baby.’ The words felt too unlikely, too real.

‘Oh yes,’ said the nurse. ‘But I’m afraid it’s not visiting time till eleven.’

‘But …’ Dot’s eyes misted with tears; she had to get a hold of herself.

‘Are you family?’

‘Yes. No, but nearly. Her dad just called me.’

‘What’s your name?’

‘Dot Cartwright.’

‘Hang on a sec,’ she said and disappeared through the double doors. Dot heard babies crying and women screaming, but the other nurse just smiled at her and looked down at her clipboard. Things were changing all around her, whole new worlds opening up, but to these women it was all nothing more than a working day. One person’s life is another’s pay packet, after all. The first nurse came back a few minutes later. ‘I really shouldn’t let you go through. She’s not even been moved to a ward yet. But she does want to see you. Ten minutes, OK?’

Dot nodded, her head bobbing like a waving cat in the window of a Chinese takeaway. The nurse held open the door for her. ‘Second on the right.’

All she had to do was walk. It was easy and yet her legs refused to move. It was preposterous to imagine that she was a few steps away from meeting Mavis’s baby, from seeing her friend so altered, for this newest of beginnings. Mr and Mrs Loveridge came out of the room and started to walk towards her so she had to do the same.

‘We thought we’d go and get a coffee, give you girls a minute,’ said Sandra and Dot was amazed by her. She looked as if she was shining, like someone had come in the night and polished her skin. In contrast Gerry looked grey, his mouth set in a downturn, his eyes ringed in angry black.

The room containing Mavis and her baby was bright and much larger than Dot had anticipated. A wall of windows looked over the hills behind Cartertown and a strange-looking mini swimming pool stood in the centre of the room, filled with what looked to Dot more like blood than water. The bed stuck out of a wall and Mavis was lying on it, pale and blotchy, her face stained with something that Dot thought might be effort, a tiny white bundle in her arms. She looked up as Dot approached, her face breaking into the smile of her old friend.

‘Oh my God, Mave,’ said Dot, sitting down on the chair which had been pulled up next to the bed. The bundle stirred and Dot realised that Mavis was feeding the baby, that the sucking sounds were not a machine, but a contented baby nursing. The world rushed around her, air sucking to and fro through her head. She didn’t feel strong enough to look directly at the baby yet. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

‘I don’t know. I wanted to. I tried. I just couldn’t.’

‘But you must have been so scared. I can’t believe you did this on your own.’

‘It was stupid really.’

‘What did your parents say? What happened?’

‘I started getting contractions at about midnight last night.’ Mavis grimaced. ‘Ow, shit it hurts.’

‘What does?’

‘Feeding. It’s a bit like squeezing pins out of your tits.’ Dot laughed. ‘Anyway, I knew what was happening, I’d read it all up on the Internet and I knew I was due around now.’

‘Hadn’t you been to the doctor at all?’

‘No. I’m an idiot – what can I say? I had this crazy plan to call a cab but I wasn’t prepared for how quickly they happened or how much they hurt and I didn’t want to be alone. So I woke Mum and it was weird. It was almost like she’d guessed or something, like she was prepared. She got straight up and told me to get in the car and I thought she’d appear with Dad and we’d row all the way to the hospital, but she got into the driver’s seat and drove us here.’

‘I thought she couldn’t drive?’

‘Yeah, that’s what I said to her. But she said it wasn’t that she couldn’t, it was just that she hadn’t done it in years and it was time she started again. Then when we got here she was amazing. All taking charge and rubbing my back and telling them I wanted to get in the pool, when I hadn’t even thought about that. And when I felt like I was dying and was shouting for them to cut me open, she was the one who held my hand and looked into my eyes and told me I could do it.’

‘Maybe I should have a baby.’

‘She was like a different woman. I can’t explain it. And she is so happy now, she doesn’t even seem to care that Dad’s got the serious arse.’

The baby jerked her head back and Mavis started cooing, lifting her on to her shoulder and rubbing her back. Her breasts were huge, lined with thick blue veins and dark brown nipples that looked almost grotesque. It all looked more natural than Dot could allow herself to believe, yet here it was, this wasn’t a film, it was real life, raw and ready.

‘Can I see her face?’

Mavis smiled and turned the baby around, holding her gently in the crook of her arm, a part of the body without meaning before this moment. The only visible part of the baby was her head, a tiny circle of red, flaky flesh with eyes shut tight like a kitten, nostrils but no discernible nose and a perfect pair of pouting lips. She was a scrap of life, a mere moment in time and yet she would grow to occupy all their lives, to occupy her own life. The thought was dazzling.

‘Oh Mave, she’s gorgeous.’

‘Isn’t she?’ said Mavis, without a hint of irony.

‘What does it feel like?’

Mavis shrugged, unable to take her eyes off her daughter. ‘Not what I expected. It’s like my heart’s melted or something, like it’s made of chocolate.’ She ran her finger down her baby’s cheek. ‘She’s so soft and she’s so tiny.’

‘Have you got a name for her yet?’

Mavis blushed. ‘Rose. In fact, I was thinking Rose Dorothy.’

‘Really?’

‘Of course. You’re my best friend, Dot. I do love you, you know. If I’d have told anyone it would have been you.’

They looked at Rose together and Dot wondered if she should ask the obvious question. In the end the words ran through her head so persistently she had to simply to say them out loud: ‘Who’s the father?’

Mavis looked up and she looked scared. ‘Promise you won’t tell Dad.’ Dot nodded. ‘It’s Clive.’

And again the world swooped, like an eagle going in for the kill. ‘Clive Buzzard?’

‘Yes. Dot, please don’t hate me. It only happened once. I couldn’t tell you, it was all so fucked up and I knew you liked him.’

‘But when? How?’

‘He asked me to give him maths lessons at the end of lower sixth. Apparently the teachers thought he was going to fail and his dad was freaking out. He was really embarrassed by it all and made me promise not to tell anyone and, I don’t know, I guess I was star struck or something because I agreed. And then it went on and on and it seemed like too big a thing to admit.’ Mavis swapped Rose into her other arm and coaxed her other breast into the baby’s mouth. Dot thought she was sucking with an impressive urgency, her tiny hands fluttering round her face. It seemed obvious that Mavis belonged to her now and the thought made Dot feel small and sad. ‘I can’t tell you how much I’ve fucked up, Dot. Or at least, that’s what I was thinking. Now I look at Rose and think it was all for the best.’

‘I still don’t see how you went from maths lessons to sex.’

Mavis reddened. ‘It was after that beginning of upper-sixth disco last year, you know, when he drove us home.’

‘Oh my God, I knew it. I must have asked you about that night, like, fifty times.’ It was the first moment of indignation that Dot had felt, but within it she realised that she didn’t care that Mavis had slept with Clive, only that she hadn’t felt able to tell her.

‘I know. I’m so sorry, Dot. But it wasn’t exactly nice. In fact, it was horrid. We went to the common and had sex in the back of his car and it wasn’t loving or even caring, it was just fucking, that’s all. I even knew he didn’t like me that much – he’d probably had a row with Debbie or something. When he dropped me back home I felt so low and shitty, so bloody angry with myself that I put it to the back of my mind and tried to forget it had ever happened.’

‘Until you missed your period.’

‘Yeah, exactly.’

Dot put her hand over her friend’s. ‘I still wish you’d told me.’

‘I know, so do I.’

They both watched Rose suck and then Dot half laughed. ‘Debbie’s gonna freak.’

Mavis pulled her hand away at this and when Dot looked at her, Mavis’s eyes were sparkling and cold. ‘No way, Dot. You can’t say anything.’

Dot’s mind wrapped itself around what Mavis had just said and it felt soft and spongy. ‘You are going to tell Clive, aren’t you?’

‘No fucking way. Absolutely not. He’s a wanker, I don’t want him anywhere near Rose.’

The world did its flip again, which Dot was almost getting used to. Everything was moving slowly; something important was happening, but she wasn’t sure exactly what it was. She saw Mavis’s face change and her arm tighten around Rose until it seemed as if a mist had invaded the room.

‘Dot,’ Mavis was saying, ‘Dot, what’s wrong?’

Dot put her hand to her cheek, which felt warm and wet; she wondered if she was bleeding but when she looked at her fingers they were simply wet and then she knew she was crying. A knowledge that she didn’t understand flapped inside her like a trapped bird. She opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out. Finally she said the first words that formed: ‘Give Rose my name, Mave, but please don’t give her my life.’