Birth in Suburbia, Carol Falaki [electronic reader .TXT] 📗

for Liz and Maggie, who made their entrance through the back gate, drawn by lively chatter wrapped in lump-wood and sausage smoke.
Liz looked stunning, Debbie thought, and again became conscious of, and dissatisfied with, her own appearance. The idea that she could feel envious of her friends exacerbated her misery. Liz was managing to look glamorous and sexy at 36 weeks pregnant. She was wearing a red skirt which skimmed her hips, with a short black tee-shirt revealing her smooth, tanned pregnant belly. Her shoes were skimpy black sandals, with a short stiletto heel that
was high enough to be not quite sensible for pregnancy, and flatter her long tanned legs. Her hair and make-up were perfect. The men stood up when she came into the garden. She gave Leo a hug.
“Leo Starkey,” Liz exclaimed with pleasure, “I haven’t seen you for ages.” They hugged and fell into a rapturous exchange of “How are you?" and "Where have you been?" and "What have you been doing?”
“Mum, you remember Leo; he was my best mate at school. We used to do our homework together.”
“Of course I remember Leo,” Maggie said. “He was the one who dyed all of your father’s underwear pink.” To which they both burst into laughter.
“Yes, do you remember? We were dyeing some tee-shirts and didn’t rinse out the washing machine.”
“Is your dad here?” Leo said with mock dismay.
Liz and Maggie entered the kitchen carrying a bottle of wine and some flowers for Chrissy. Greetings and kisses were immediately followed by enquiries into Helen’s well-being. Maggie explained how Nigel had knocked on her door at around 8am. Helen had thought she had been bleeding.
“What do you mean, thought?” Debbie asked, “Did she bleed?”
“Well it was a bit of a confusing story,” Maggie replied. “So I’ll let Helen explain herself. They’ll be here soon I expect.”
“Who’s the dishy guy with the dark hair?” Liz asked, unable to contain her curiosity any longer.
“Tom’s friend, Leo,” Chrissy answered. “You know Leo.”
“No I don’t mean Leo, you know who I mean Chrissy; where did you find him?” Liz said, glancing over to where Michael was standing, and whispering to Debbie.
“Trust us to be pregnant, Debs. Anyway I’m going to throw caution to the wind and flirt like mad, because, - well - for the fun of it,” and she strolled into the garden, fruit juice in one hand, a strawberry in the other, intent on enjoying the sunny afternoon.
“You know Maggie,” Debbie said, and she meant it from her heart. “It’s great to see Liz relaxing and enjoying herself. Remember how worried we were about her when she first came up from London. She looked so drawn and tired, and now just look at her, she looks fabulous. It must make you happy.” Maggie smiled her swallow-tail smile.
“We were worried at first, Harry and I, but you know Liz, she just got determined. She will make the best of this situation. At least she is free to be herself again. That does make me happy.”
There was a loud thud from upstairs.
“What are those kids getting up to?” Chrissy sighed. Maggie volunteered to go up and investigate. “Leave it to me, I’ll sort them out.”
Looking into the garden Debbie saw that Michael and David were talking with Sean at the barbecue. Leo was sitting next to Liz with Emily on his
knee talking to her in baby language. His fascination was returned by Emily, who was smiling from ear to ear. Tom, Marie, and Liz were already deep in animated conversation, interspersed with spontaneous laughter.
The doorbell rang; it was Helen and Nigel at last. Debbie and Chrissy greeted them with,
“How are you Helen? What happened? What did they say? What did they do?”
Helen said
“I think I need that glass of wine now, Chrissy.” She sat down at the kitchen table.
“A small one, please.”
“Help yourselves to whatever you want,” Chrissy offered, and Nigel poured Helen a glass of wine, opened a beer and excused himself, retreating to the garden with a tray of raw sausages.
“Off to join the men and leave you all to your women’s talk,” he said then glanced at, and then appeared to refer to, the sausages. “Please be gentle with me when I return.”
Maggie returned with the news that all was well upstairs. Peter Pan had fallen off the bed but was fine now, and they sat at the table to listen to Helen’s story.
“It was just so embarrassing,” she began, “Having to tell them about the tissue, you see I didn’t know, not definitely. It was when I opened the curtains that I saw it there on the floor, where I’d put it, but I didn’t know if it
was last night or this morning.”
“What do you mean; the tissue?” Chrissy asked, while Maggie smiled.
“We had done it, you know, made love, last night, and I had got up to go to the toilet afterwards. Anyway this morning we made love again; you know what he’s like.” Debbie and Chrissie’s mouths were open. No, they didn’t know.
“Well,” Helen continued, “This morning I just used another tissue and then fell back asleep.”
“I’m not surprised,” Chrissy exclaimed. “You were knackered.”
“So when I opened the curtains, there was this bloody tissue on the floor. The doctor was very nice, but she asked me did I notice any blood last night, but I didn’t because I went to the loo in the dark. She was like a detective. Nigel was scarlet. ‘Do you live in a cave?’ she asked. I think she was trying to make a joke, we were so nervous, but I never turn the light on to go to the loo at night, do you?”
“I don’t either; I don’t want to put the light on and wake up,” Debbie said
“Most importantly, are you alright, is the baby alright?”
“Yes we’re fine, thank goodness. They looked at my cervix, with a speculum thing, a bit like a smear, and they said there was no sign of any bleeding.” She looked at Chrissy who grinned and said
“Because of the sex?”
Helen nodded and continued: “They monitored the baby’s heartbeat and that was fine. My cervix was closed, wouldn’t you know. I don’t think I am ever going to go into labour.” Helen took a sip of her wine. “The whole experience gave poor Nigel a bit of a fright, and he’s committed himself to celibacy until after the baby.”
With unfortunate timing Nigel put his head into the kitchen and said: “The sausages won’t be long, would anyone like one?” They all laughed.
“Helen doesn’t want any.”
“Carry on,” he said. “I deserve it.”
Chrissy remembered she had guests to entertain, and dressed the salad, after showing Nigel the meat, fish and vegetables she had prepared for the barbecue.
“Leave it with us, Chrissy,” Nigel said. “Sean and I will sort that side of it,” adding: “Helen, don’t forget to ring your mum, tell her I’ll come and bed those plants for her tomorrow.” He kissed Helen on the cheek and whispered something in her ear.
“That’s amazing,” Debbie said, “You can still make Helen blush after all these years.” Nigel smiled, and took this as the compliment it was intended to be.
Michael came into the kitchen,
“I didn’t know you knew Mike, Chrissy,” Nigel said.
“In truth I tagged along with Jonathan,” Michael said.
“Chrissy and I met at the school gate. It’s Jonathan
who is Natalie’s guest, and Chrissy was kind enough to invite me along,” Michael explained. “Is Jonathan behaving himself? I haven’t set eyes on him since we arrived at the door.”
“They are both fine,” Maggie said. “I’ve just been up to check on them, although he was wearing a hook and an eye patch.” Michael smiled,
“Can I be of any help?”
“You just go and relax,” Chrissy said.
Nigel suggested: “Come and give Sean and me a hand, you can keep us stocked up with beer.”
Debbie took three beers from the refrigerator and passed them to Michael. Their hands touched and she allowed her eyes to meet his. Once again Debbie felt self-conscious, pleasantly confused. Chrissy handed Michael the opener.
“Shall I help you to open them?” she said. At once Debbie saw how Chrissy, who had spent the past five years of her life treating all men with contempt, seemed shy and unsure of herself when talking to him. And there was more. Her usually composed behaviour had vanished. Debbie watched Chrissy move between her guests, her eyes occasionally glancing in the direction of Michael. Helen, too, had noticed; how could she not?
When Michael left the kitchen Helen beckoned Chrissy to come and sit down. “Bring your wine,” she commanded. “We need to talk,” and
Chrissy did what she was told. Debbie and Maggie sat with them.
“First of all we need to know a little more about him," Helen said
“About whom?” this question from Chrissy was ignored.
“Nigel knows something, I’ll find out what later. Secondly,” Helen continued, “you need to play it cool, Chrissy. Don’t make anything obvious, you look great, you are lovely, be quietly confident, be mysterious, don’t gush, you’ll frighten him off.”
“I don’t know what you mean,” Chrissy protested, and Debbie, Maggie and Helen disintegrated into laughter.
Liz and Marie, clutching Emily, came in from the garden.
“What’s going on here?” Liz enquired, and Helen explained, ignoring Chrissie’s protests.
“I agree, absolutely Chrissy,” Liz said. “And I’m totally jealous. He’s delicious.”
In the end they all agreed Chrissie’s best plan was to just be herself, how could he resist? But she was to try her hardest not to make her