James – Thirty-Five Weeks
I stride into the kitchen fanning smoke away from my face.
Charlotte stands by the grill, the pan a grisly mess of soot and curled-up charcoal.
She bursts into tears. “I burned the toast.”
Briskly dipping a tea-towel into the sink, I drape it over the grill-pan, then pull her into a hug. “It’s not a disaster. No harm’s been done. And we can afford another loaf.” I guide her to the table. “Now sit down and I’ll make you some more toast. What would you like on it? Honey? Marmalade? Cheese?”
She sniffles, her face low. “Just butter, please.” Then she jerks up again. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean…”
“Charlotte… Charlotte…” I draw up a chair by her, pull her face to mine, kiss her forehead. “You have it all out of proportion. Come on, see the funny side.” I cast down. “Look, Scruffy will eat your burnt offering if no-one else will.”
Then I regret my words. The pint-sized mongrel grins up ingratiatingly, displaying more teeth than the average wolf and drops…
Um…
… a dried-up frog at our feet.
Charlotte bursts into laughter. “Oh, God. That was just what I needed.”
And at that moment, the door bangs open and the kitchen is suddenly teeming with dogs as Kirstie’s four make a mass entrance.
Can five dogs teem?
Yes.
Time to tell Kirstie to move ’em on. She’s well enough now…
Still… turn every problem into an opportunity…
I stand, snatching up the cremated remains of Charlotte’s intended snack and hurl the lot out of the back door. The canine contingent follows the mess en masse, shedding hair, slobber and mud in equal measure as they depart.
“See,” I say. “Just a cheap way of feeding the dogs.”
Charlotte chuckles, looking much more herself, then the smile fades and she turns pensive again.
“Charlotte, talk to me. What’s upsetting you?”
She looks down, scuffing at the tiles, looking like some little girl admitting to stealing cookies. All that’s missing is the pigtails.
“Charlotte?”
“Master…” She twines finger, hands resting over the bump of her stomach.
An ugly thought grips me.
Surely not?
“Charlotte, you’re not regretting this are you?” I tilt her face up to mine, eye-pointing down to her stomach. “Having second thoughts?”
Her eyes widen. “Oh, no… Master… No.”
Thank God for that.
“No, never. I so wanted to do this. And I still do. It’s…” And her face drops again.
I pull her into my arms, resting my chin on the top of her head. “Jade Eyes. Talk to me. Tell me what’s wrong. How can I help make it right for you if I don’t know what’s troubling you?”
She blurts out the words. “I’m scared.”
“Scared? Of the pregnancy? Of becoming a mother?”
“The labour. It’s…” Her face drops into her hands. “Oh, God. I’m terrified of what’s coming.”
Those fucking old women…
They’re coming nowhere near again ’til this is over…
Dropping back to perch on the table edge, I take a couple of deep breaths. “This isn’t like you, Charlotte. You’re the most fearless woman I know. What exactly are you so scared of?”
“I’m scared of the pain. And that Cara might not be… as she should be. I’m scared they might have to cut me open to get her out and I’ll be scarred and that you won’t… I’m scared I won’t be a good mother. They say when you had a bad upbringing that you pass it on, don’t they…”
She plunges on, spilling her terrors and I wait quietly for the tide of worry and fear to run its course.
Some of it I’ve heard already. Some is new to me. A part of me wants to laugh it off. Woman have been doing this for as long as there have been women.
But…
What do I know about how it feels to be pregnant?
Your body running riot… Hormones out of control…
Dependent…
Partially helpless…
And knowing that even the easiest labour is a time of pain and anxiety…
And it’s her first.
“Charlotte, you trust me surely? My feelings for you? My judgement?”
Streaming tears, she lifts her face to me. “Of course I do.”
“Then trust me now. You’re going to be fine. Cara is going to be fine. Your body is raging with hormones, running away with your head. You’re letting your imagination sweep you away. Everything is perfectly normal; as it should be.”
She wipes her face with the heel of a hand. “Yes, I know all that. At least, my head knows it. It’s just…”
I take her hands, placing them together and sandwiching between my own. “Charlotte, I can’t imagine what it feels like to be a woman, to have another life growing inside you. But I can understand that, as you are now, you’re feeling dependent; helpless even. And that’s not easy for you. But I’m here. Michael is here. For you. When it really comes down to it, this is what men are for; to look after pregnant women, mothers, children.”
I kiss her forehead. “I will always be here for you. As long as I draw breath, I will be here for you.”
*****