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

a drink, there’s an assortment of fruit juices. Debbie, what would you like?”
Chrissy appeared flushed, but it suited her; Debbie thought she looked radiant.
Secretly Debbie envied Chrissie’s trim figure, she felt like a blob, and she knew that Chrissy was just being nice to her by complementing her appearance. She felt unlovely and miserable, but smiled. She felt anxious, her anxiety a hunger, yearning for a taste of reassurance from Sean.
Dressing to come out was always difficult lately. Shoes were a problem because her feet were
swollen and her choice of outfit was now reduced to the few items of clothing she could fit into. She had wanted to buy a new dress but Sean had protested.
“You will only be able to wear it for a few weeks now, and with the baby coming we need to consider how we spend our money.”
He was right and she had agreed with him. So she did her best with what she had, and spent extra time on her hair and make-up.
“How do I look?” She asked before they'd set off.
“Fine,” Sean said, hardly glancing at her. He was preoccupied, Debbie knew he was, but she didn’t know why. They had not spoken in the car on the way, and she found herself fighting back tears. Sean noticed. After he parked the car in Chrissie’s road he turned on her.
“Now what?”
His words, a bitter demonstration of his impatience with her, hit her like an Arctic wind and she wished herself at home in bed. He had never been like this with her before she became pregnant and she wanted to ask him why, she wanted to explain to him how she felt, but knew he was in no mood to listen, and she was afraid of his response. Not that he would harm her in a physical sense, but that what he said would confirm her worst fears. Perhaps they could leave early, she thought. Debbie smiled at Chrissy and said: “You look lovely, too.”
Sean said his hellos to Marie and David,
admired Emily and offered to get the barbecue going
“Thanks, Sean,” Chrissy replied. “You’ll find matches in the drawer by the sink.” With that he escaped to the garden; stopping on the way to have a mock sword fight with Peter Pan in the kitchen, and grab a beer from the refrigerator.
Debbie put on her bravest front.
“Hello Marie, hello David, I haven’t seen you both for a couple of months; Marie, you look great, and Emily, just look at how she’s growing.”
“We are great, thanks Debbie,” Marie replied, and David complained that everyone was forgetting to say how great he looked.
In the kitchen Chrissy pointed to the food and drinks, instructing them all to help themselves, before proceeding to check the meat in the marinade. When the doorbell rang again Peter Pan flew past them.
“I’ll get it, I’ll get it.”
“I’ll go with her,” Debbie volunteered.
Two men stood at the door, one of them Debbie recognised was Tom, a good friend of Chrissie’s, one of the few men Chrissy gave any credence to, a colleague from the days before she had her own business. The other, younger, man looked familiar.
“Hello, Tom,” she said, “It’s nice to see you again.” Tom smiled and gave Debbie a friendly hug.
“You are blossoming, you look gorgeous Debbie. I do believe that pregnancy suits you.” Turning to his friend he said: “Don’t you think so, Leo? Have you
two met before?”
“I think so, although it was a while back.” Debbie smiled at Leo.
“Leo, you remember Debbie?”
Leo was a beautiful young man. He was dressed in jeans and a white tee-shirt. His sunglasses, resting comfortably on the top of his head, were half lost in a mop of dark hair styled in a ‘just got out of bed’ sort of way. He smiled warmly at Debbie, revealing a row of perfect white teeth. When Leo spoke she saw his tongue was pierced with a small gold stud.
“Of course I remember Debbie,” he said giving her an affectionate hug, “You’re Scooter’s mum, how is he?” And Debbie remembered when she had met him.
“Oh yes, Scooter fell in love with you, at that picnic in the park, didn’t he? He’s fine thanks, Leo, although I think he is feeling his age nowadays.”
“Aren’t we all?” Tom said. “Did you bring him?”
“I’m afraid not. He would have been delighted to see you, I’m sure, but he would have been begging for meat all evening, and his stomach is not up to it any more. You must come and visit.”
At that moment Natalie came running to them. She threw herself at Leo, attaching herself to his leg while attempting to reach her small arms around his waist.
“Uncle Leo, look I’m Peter Pan. Will you come and play with me? You can be Hook.” Leo bent down to her
for a hug.
“I’m going to say hello to everyone first, but I promise later.”
Debbie stepped back, still smiling, to allow Tom and Leo past her. Her attention was drawn to a small boy running up the path towards the house. To her surprise she recognised the boy from the beach, Jonathan. He was closely followed by his father, the man with the smiling eyes, Michael. She smiled to welcome them to her friend’s house. Natalie let go of Leo and bounced towards them.
“Jon, Jon,” she exclaimed. “Come on, hurry, I have to show you this,” and the pair ran straight up the stairs chatting excitedly.
As she greeted Michael, Debbie’s confusion must have been apparent, because words failed her. She felt self-conscious and was aware that her confusion at this unexpected meeting was not well hidden. Again he came to her rescue, while she stood with her hello still inside her open mouth.
“Hello,” he said, “We met on the beach. I’m Michael, Jonathan’s father.”
“Yes, I remember. Hello again. Debbie, I’m a friend of Chrissie’s, and she held out her hand, which he held for a moment. Then strangely it was Michael who seemed lost for something to say, or did she imagine it? After a short pause he said: “Yes, Debbie.”
“Are you coming in?” she asked, still unsure if he was dropping Jonathan off or staying for the barbecue.
“I’m coming in I hope,” and she allowed him in.
He was taller than she recalled, his clothes casual and expensive, giving an impression of effortless style. His cologne reminded her of vanilla ice-cream.
Debbie reminded herself that pregnancy had altered her sense of smell. His manner was confident. It would be difficult to imagine him anything other than calm and unruffled, in any circumstance.
She led the way to the kitchen. The room was filled with chatter and the smell of fresh coffee and strawberries. A muffled Sting was singing ‘Fields of gold’ from a small speaker hidden among flowers on the Welsh dresser.
Chrissy and Tom were hugging affectionately and Leo was shaking hands with David. Marie had gone out into the garden with Emily. Near the wall, at the far end of the garden, Debbie could see Sean’s familiar back. He bent over the barbecue, a secretive genie emerging from a growing smoky cloud as he worked at the coals. What was going on in his mind right now? Whatever it was she had no idea.
Michael followed Debbie into the kitchen, and stood in the doorway. She noticed how Chrissy quickly released herself from Tom’s hold, and lowered her eyes for a moment, before greeting Michael with a simple handshake. Was her complexion still flushed, or more flushed?
Tom sensed he had been dropped and
turned to see who or what had triggered Chrissie’s reaction. Introductions were made, drinks were poured and polite and friendly conversation followed. The men made their way out to the patio and Debbie watched Sean come over to introduce himself to them. He had met Tom before and they quickly fell into conversation.
Debbie stood close to Chrissy at the worktop where she was turning chicken pieces in the marinade. She was conscious of her friend's delicate perfume, and her femininity, she realised she had not seen Chrissy in that dress before.
“Who is he?” Debbie whispered in a conspiratorial tone.
“You’ve met Tom before.”
“Chrissy, you know who I mean.”
“You mean Michael? He is just Natalie’s friend’s dad,” Chrissy replied.
“He was outside the school, waiting,” she explained.
“It was Natalie, she wanted Jonathan, and I invited his dad too. They are new to this area,” Debbie couldn’t resist saying: “He’s widowed, you know.”
“I know, Jonathan told Natalie,” Chrissy replied, turning to scrutinise her friend. “How do you know that?”
“Jonathan told me, on the beach.” Leaving this comment in her wake Debbie picked up a tray of nibbles and took them out to the patio, she was having fun now, at her friend’s expense, but she loved Chrissy too well to tease her for long and returned to her side
to enlighten her.
“Jonathan was knocked over by a dog and I helped him to his feet, that’s all,” and she smiled. “Chrissy,” she whispered, “I do believe you fancy him.” Chrissy flashed her eyes in response.
“Of course I don’t. Do I?” Debbie laughed and put her arms around Chrissy.
“It’s about time.”
“I wonder what has happened to Helen.” Chrissy remarked, changing the subject. “Have you heard any more?”
“No I haven’t, perhaps Liz and Maggie will know when they arrive.” Sean came in for a beer,
“Almost ready,” he said. He passed in and out of the kitchen and glanced at Debbie, to judge her mood; that’s how it felt to her.
They didn’t have to wait long