‘Thank goodness I found out then.’ Alice flopped down next to her on the bed. There seemed no point in revealing the full events of New Year’s Eve now. It would only put Robin even more on the defensive. These moments were so important, she knew. How she reacted now could decide everything.

  ‘Don’t faint with amazement, Robin love, but I’m not so terribly shocked as you think. Ancient mums aren’t quite so ancient as they sometimes appear. It was just initial surprise that made me shriek at you like that. You must have had a terrible time, bottling all this up. Shall we go and have a cup of tea and talk about it properly?’

  Robin was truly astounded and not a little impressed.

  ‘There’s nothing really to talk about – but okay.’ It had never crossed her mind that her mother would behave so coolly about the whole thing.

  Alice played her part well. She wanted Robin to trust her, to feel she could tell her everything. To do this she intuitively realised two vital things: that she should give no hint of passing judgement, while also being careful not to act as if she thought she understood everything. She and Peter had learnt through experience that pretending to speak the same language as their children only infuriated them. It made them shut down and write their parents off as even more of a pair of old fogies than they had originally thought. In the same way, Alice could see that she would never get away with acting as if daughters of friends got pregnant all the time. Robin would not be fooled by such a front and would only find it riling.

  All these thoughts raced through Alice’s mind, like details of a battle-plan, as she made her way downstairs and put the kettle on.

  ‘Don’t tell me anything if you don’t want to, darling. I have always respected your life as your own – you know that, don’t you? The last thing I want to do is to interfere. Truly, I don’t.’

  Robin squirmed a little and mumbled some thanks.

  ‘But even if we are hopelessly doddery and out of touch – your father and I – we can help sometimes. I mean, just from a money point of view. How… I mean, I can’t help wondering… how were you going to pay for the abortion?’

  ‘Friends.’ She took a swig of tea and added another heaped spoonful of sugar.

  ‘You were going to borrow from them, you mean?’

  ‘Yes. I’ve got some very good friends, you know.’

  ‘Yes, darling. I’m sure you have. But I can’t help thinking it’s better to keep loans within the family if one possibly can.’ One thing at a time, Alice told herself. ‘Then it doesn’t matter so much how long it takes to pay it back.’

  ‘So, you would not refuse on principle to lending me money to have an abortion?’ Robin looked her mother full in the face.

  Alice stared back boldly. ‘No – if that is what you really want. Just as we would lend you money to bring up a child – if that was what you wanted. What I mean is,’ she continued quickly, before Robin could interrupt, ‘that the principle is about helping you, not about anything else.’

  Robin looked relieved. She began tracing the grains of wood along the table with her thumbnail.

  ‘Of course, I don’t much like the idea of having an abortion. But obviously there’s absolutely no question of making a go of it with Bob, and even if there were, I don’t think I would want to be saddled with a baby.’ She went on studying the table top and Alice did not say anything. ‘I mean, Jesus, I’m only twenty and there’s my career and everything. I’m not sure there’s a great demand for pregnant women on stage just at the moment. They tend to prefer stuffing pillows up dresses to the real thing.’

  ‘Robin, honestly…’

  Robin looked up, grinning sheepishly and they both laughed a little, which made them feel better.

  ‘You wouldn’t be on your own though,’ said Alice, seizing her chance. ‘I – we both – would help you every step of the way. This house is much too big for two as it is. We could turn the spare room back into a nursery – as it used to be – and you could easily get on with your career because I could look after the baby for you,’ Alice raced on, genuinely enthralled by the vision of what the future could hold. ‘Goodness me, twenty isn’t that young either. And you’ve always been very mature for your age.’

  ‘Oh Mum, don’t. You’re only making things worse.’ Robin pushed back her chair, scraping it noisily over the tiled floor. She stood looking out of the kitchen window for a few seconds.

  ‘The thing is, I’m seriously thinking about going to America and trying my luck there. I’ve got a friend working in New York who says she could help get me started. Which means coming and living here might not be the answer to anything.’

  Alice cursed herself for getting so carried away. She had really blown it now.

  ‘I suppose you’ll tell Dad. Yes, I guess you have to. I wonder what he will say? I can’t think he’d go exactly wild at the idea of having a squealing brat in the house. Come to think of it, I don’t really understand why you’re so keen.’ She turned to face Alice.

  ‘I am completely anti-abortion, that’s why,’ Alice said quickly. ‘Unless, perhaps, in very extreme cases, where there really isn’t a hope that the child could be given a decent start in life.’

  ‘I had no idea you felt so strongly about it. But like you said a bit ago, it’s my life and having a baby would really muck things up right now.’

  ‘I see.’ Alice tried not to sound as disappointed as she felt.

  ‘But I think perhaps you were right about the money side of it. None of my friends are exactly rolling in it, so it would make more sense if you and Dad could lend me some.’

  ‘Okay. I’ll talk to your father about it this evening.’ Having made the promise, Alice was aware she could not very well retract it.

  When Peter got home, Robin stayed in her room long enough to give her mother time to break the news. Alice told him everything, including her decision not to reveal the full events of New Year’s Eve.

  ‘It sounds as though she’s being very sensible about the whole thing.’

  ‘Yes, I knew you’d think that.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Dad.’ It was Robin, standing in the doorway, looking pitifully guilty.

  ‘Robin, my poor girl.’ Peter went over and hugged her. The movement was clumsy, but it touched Robin, bringing the tears to her eyes. ‘I expect you are in need of a stiff drink,’ he added, turning for the drinks’ cabinet. Alice wanted to protest that drinking was not a good idea for pregnant women but bit her tongue.

  ‘Thanks, Dad, just a tonic please.’

  ‘Right you are. As to this business…’ He cleared his throat as he handed her the glass of tonic water. ‘We will of course lend you the necessary money.’ He peered down at his shoes, hating the awkwardness as much as the necessity of the conversation.

  ‘Yes, that’s great. Thanks.’ There was a stiff silence.

  ‘The only thing we both feel, Robin,’ Peter blurted, wishing he didn’t sound like some pompous headmaster, ‘is that we should like you to do all this through Dr Parks so we can make sure the thing is handled properly.’

  ‘But I’ve got the name of a good doctor. I’ve already spoken to him on the phone and made a preliminary appointment and everything. He’s called Dr Thomas and he did sound ever so nice.’ Robin glanced pleadingly between her parents. ‘I don’t think I could face Dr Parks. I’ve known him too long. I’d be so embarrassed. Please.’

  ‘But this Dr Thomas could be a complete crook or… or an amateur,’ went on Peter, glancing at Alice to give him some support. ‘We don’t know anything about him, darling.’

  ‘But I do,’ Robin insisted. ‘He’s all right. I know he is. The friend who recommended him had exactly the same problem herself you see…’

  Peter swallowed hard, not wanting to reveal his dismay. ‘Well in that case… Alice, my love, what do you say?’

  ‘Let Robin do as she will. It’s quite clear she has made up her mind.’ It doesn’t make any difference anyway, she thought.

  Robin rushed over and kissed her. ‘Thanks, Mum – and you too, Dad. You’re both being amazing. Now you just stay here with your drinks and I’ll go and make supper.’ She hung around in the doorway for a few seconds, as if trying to think of something else to say. Then disappeared without another word.

  ‘Well, that’s that I suppose,’ said Alice. She picked up some knitting and put the television on. Peter refilled his glass and started on the crossword.

  30

  THE DECISION

  When Robin slammed the door shut and raced upstairs after her trip to the doctor, Alice knew something had gone wrong. After half an hour or so, she ventured up and knocked gently on the bedroom door. There was no reply. She tried opening it, but it was locked.

  ‘Robin, darling, what is the matter?’

  Still nothing. She listened hard for the sound of sobbing, but all was quiet. Since it was nearly six o’clock, she decided to wait for Peter to get back before trying any more.

  He had rather more success. The moment he called her name and knocked, the door was opened – and immediately shut again, before Alice could follow him in. It was one of the worst snubs of her life. How dare Robin want to confide in Peter, when he had been one of the laziest, most uninvolved fathers the world had ever known? He did not deserve such privilege. She stormed downstairs, furious at both of them, miserable at being left out.

  It seemed an age before Peter found her in the sitting room, knitting aggressively – and far too tightly.

  ‘Poor Robin has had a bit of a shock,’ he said.

  ‘I gathered that much. I just don’t see why she had to tell you about it and not me.’ It was impossible to hide her anger.

  ‘She said it was easier because I was more objective…’

  ‘She what? I’m only her mother, for goodness’ sake. Mothers never understand their children as well as fathers, do they?’ She threw her knitting down and folded her arms.

  ‘Alice, there is no need to be like that about it.’ He spoke slowly, patiently, as if he was very tired.

  ‘Come on then, what did she say?’

  ‘It seems that she is a lot more pregnant than she thought,’ Peter continued heavily, ‘that in fact she is over three months pregnant – when she had imagined it was only seven or eight weeks. She had none of the sickness problems you see and er… apparently… her periods were always irregular anyway.’

  Alice was amazed. Not so much at the news – which had not really sunk in – but that Robin had actually been talking about her periods to Peter. Peter! Who had never so much as mouthed the word during the entire quarter of a century they had been married.

  ‘The point is,’ he ploughed on, avoiding Alice’s eyes, ‘that the doctor seems to have advised her against having an abortion. It is perfectly possible, medically speaking. However, apparently there are some risks involved – although the odds are very much against – of difficulties in having children later on. I don’t know all the ins and outs, but it’s made Robbie, with great reluctance, feel that she has no choice but to go ahead and have the baby after all.’ He paused, so Alice could take this in.

  ‘Well, I suppose that’s understandable.’ I must not appear too pleased, Alice thought. She felt her face flush with excitement. Then a sudden panic.

  ‘She’s not going to try for a second opinion or anything, is she?’

  ‘No, I don’t think so. She seems to have made her mind up – although she’s hardly happy at having reached such a decision. Poor lass. I wish there was some way we could help her.’

  ‘But Peter, there is. I know it’s awful – the whole business is awful – but we can help. In thousands of ways. We can give her money, a home – heavens, she’ll even have two permanent baby-sitters…’

  ‘That’s very sweet. Mum, thank you.’

  ‘Robin, I didn’t hear you come down the stairs.’ Alice spun round on the sofa, caught off her guard. ‘I am sorry, darling, truly I am. I know I was against the whole thing, but even I had been getting used to the idea and thinking that perhaps it was for the best… what a difficult decision you have made, but so brave,’ she added quickly.

  ‘Well, we’re all going to have to get used to something else now, aren’t we?’ Robin threw herself into an armchair and lit a cigarette.

  ‘Robin, don’t you think, love, that you had better start thinking about giving that up?’ Alice ventured.

  Robin turned her head slowly towards her mother. Holding her eyes, she took a long, strong drag, which she inhaled slowly, deeply, right into her lungs, and then out again.

  ‘Let us get one thing absolutely straight. This is my problem, my pregnancy and – barring accidents – my baby. I shall therefore behave exactly as I see fit. If I wish to drink, I shall drink. If I wish to smoke, I shall smoke. If I decide to go skiing in my eighth month, I shall do that too.’ Even Robin was slightly overawed by her own audacity.

  ‘I was only trying to be helpful,’ mumbled Alice. ‘I’ll go and lay the table for dinner.’

  31

  ROBIN RELAXES

  Much to her surprise, Robin rather enjoyed being pregnant. The strain of twelve months of emotional dramas on and off the stage had left her genuinely exhausted. Otherwise, she might have offered more resistance to the bulldozing attentions which she was subjected to by her mother. As it was, she reigned like some child-queen – lavished with favours, but without any true power. But Robin was past caring. She let Alice spoil her as much as she wanted and sat back to enjoy the ride. After all, none of it would last forever, she told herself.

  She blew up like a balloon. Pregnancy – official permission to be fat! The floodgates opened. Years of not allowing herself to be greedy took their revenge in binges of eating that lasted for days. She had gorged herself many times before, of course, but now there were no starvation periods in between.

  Alice did nothing to try and check this process. On the contrary, seeing how much Robin was enjoying her food inspired her to cook more delicious things more often. Her daughter putting on so much weight did not worry her in the slightest. Life was altogether too enjoyable to get concerned about such trivia. For if there was one person who enjoyed these months more than Robin, it was Alice herself. Day after day of heavenly chores – of slaving for someone who really enjoyed and needed it. Hours of planning, preparing and hoping for the baby. Her own pregnancies had not been nearly so much fun. Then she had been mostly alone, less experienced – and of course burdened with the physical aspects as well. Now she had all the enjoyment without any of the discomfort. Robin – especially a fat, immobile Robin – was totally, blissfully dependent on her. She was in fact – although Alice never once thought of it this way – her prisoner. Being large for the first time in her life, and pregnant but not married, meant that the last thing Robin wanted to do was to venture out of the house. Thus her physical condition and her situation confined her, with her mother as her only link to the outside world. She did not mind though. What other jail served up creamy apple flan for dessert and made sure the larder was never out of chocolate biscuits?

  Peter, feeling the unhealthiness of the situation, did try half-heartedly to intervene. But, in spite of playing such an important role in events leading up to Robin’s reinstatement at home, he now found himself excluded. The house might just as well have had a ‘Women Only’ sign pinned to the front door. Conversation revolved solely around frills for the cot cover, whether the nursery curtains should match the wall paper or the cushion covers, how many stitches made booties for a new-born and What The Doctor Had Said. Peter, while he became an unwitting expert on the pros and cons of disposable nappies, was powerless. He tried only once to influence what was going on. Noticing the bloating effect of Robin’s slothfulness, he suggested that she start swimming at the local indoor pool as a form of healthy exercise and a way of getting out of the house. Robin went very sulky and Alice kicked him under the table. Later he found himself being severely reprimanded for being so tactless and for making Robin feel guilty. Pregnancy, explained Alice, was the one time when women should relax completely, do exactly as they pleased, and enjoy feeling special. Any upsets in such a programme could affect the baby – if not physically then at least mentally, she claimed. Since, between them, Alice and Robin had read every book on pregnancy written in the history of mankind, Peter had not felt in a position to argue.

  Instead, he found himself spending a lot of time alone again and wishing more than ever that Robin had not got herself into such a mess. Before Christmas he had felt as if he and Alice might be on the verge of a new, wonderful – and totally unexpected – phase in their life together. Now she hardly had time for him at all. He was not really jealous – in fact he was pleased to see her so happy again – but what good was such happiness if he could feel no part of it? He resolved to bide his time. Let the baby be born. Then a little money would set Robin up on her own and he could have his wife back. An elegant old age of mutual affection and respect spent visiting children, grandchildren, holidaying, and eating good meals had started forming like some hazy vision of hope. He would close his eyes, shutting out the pin-cushions and knitting patterns, and indulge in some secret planning for an early retirement.

  32

  ACTION STATIONS

  When the labour pains started, they came so quickly that Alice could hardly count any gap between them. She rang the hospital immediately and explained that the birth seemed imminent.

  ‘But how many minutes are there between the contractions, Mrs Hatton?’ asked the voice in a bored way for the second time.

  ‘I have explained already. They are coming too quickly. There’s hardly a minute between them.’ Alice was desperate. ‘I suggest you send an ambulance.’ She was doing up her shirt and pulling on shoes as she spoke. It was four o’clock in the morning and she could hear Peter offering what help he could to Robin next door.

 

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22