“He was telling the truth, then.” Dan was feeding the koi and contemplating a quick workout before the day of arguing over using the wrong cooking utensil or serving dish, not stirring thoroughly enough, being in the way, not helping, and so on, commenced in earnest.
“Uncle Mike coming?” Little Shaunna ran past and climbed onto the windowsill, pressing her face against the glass. Mike’s van was parked in a space outside the next block along. Dan hadn’t seen him arrive.
“He’s working, Shu.”
“Why?”
“So he can make pennies to buy Bethan more teddies.”
“’Kay.” She climbed down and raced past again, back to the sofa to continue watching TV.
“That was easy,” Dan muttered under his breath. The ‘why’ game usually went on a lot longer, although he was wondering why himself. Saturday morning, not yet nine o’clock, and Mike was hard at it. There again, he’d need an early start if he really was planning to decorate an entire apartment in a weekend. The one-bedroom apartments in Dovedale were spacious; the two-bedroom, like theirs, were enormous. Whichever type Mike was working on, he’d be hard pushed to be done by Monday, although his sudden enthusiasm for working the weekend was about far more than buying toys for his daughter.
Dan turned and leaned against the edge of the koi pool, studying the expanse of lounge. It had taken thirty rolls of wallpaper to do the full room, and it was a while back. He knew, because Adele had helped him decide on the colour scheme—in other words, she’d chosen the paper, he’d hung it—and then they’d broken up and he’d wanted to rip it all down again. A year later, she’d married Tom. Six months after that, she’d moved back into the apartment, and they’d transformed Dan’s bland spare room into little Shaunna’s nursery.
Almost four years on, the rest of the apartment remained untouched. By the standards of a normal mortal who wasn’t compelled to follow every new fad, it had been a long time. But there was little point in going all out on redecorating to their tastes when they probably wouldn’t be living there much longer.
Interestingly, only Andy had passed comment on how odd it was that Adele wasn’t pushing for The Great Living Room Makeover, or whatever it was Kris and Ade had dubbed it when Adele first mentioned it. No doubt it would come up again this evening, and Dan appreciated Adele taking the flak on his behalf, because the stopping block wasn’t her indecision. It was his. They should have been looking at houses months ago; just that morning, Andy had emailed the details for a few more places. After Monday, Dan would give them his full attention and figure out what he wanted to do with the apartment. Until then…
“Dan?” Adele called from the kitchen.
“Yep?”
“Could you come here a sec?”
“Why?”
“Just…come here.”
Dan took a deep breath and did as requested. “What’s up?” he asked as he reached the kitchen doorway, but he knew already. “Oh…right, err… What do you need me to do?”
“Call off the dinner party.”
“Do you need to go to the—”
“Call off the dinner party!”
“Now? But—”
Adele nodded and inhaled through clenched teeth.
Little Shaunna pushed past Dan, gasped and put her hand over her wide-open mouth. “Mummy, s’matter?”
“The baby’s coming,” Dan explained, attempting to sound calm and happy because Shu looked ready to burst into tears—who wouldn’t if they saw their mummy in obvious pain? He was starting to panic himself, or get excited. He wasn’t really sure which.
They’d already asked the midwife what they should do if Adele went into labour before the scheduled caesarean, and she’d said to get to the hospital, so he at least had some kind of plan of action. It was everything else that was getting him in a bit of a state.
Adele was making a squeaky hm, hm, hm noise that would, at any other time, have been both comical and irritating. Rubbing her lower back with one hand, Dan took out his phone with the other, and for a moment stared at the screen, not sure who to call. They’d arranged for Alice to look after Shu, but that was for Monday, and Dan didn’t like to impose. He didn’t want to impose on his mum, either, when she’d already be looking after Bethan, but he didn’t have much choice.
“What are you waiting for? Get calling!” Adele demanded and resumed squeaking.
Dan bit back a retort about her priorities being ridiculously wrong and dialled Shaunna and Andy’s number, urging them to answer. It went to voicemail. He called again, same result. Adele’s squeaks slowed and dropped in pitch. He gave it one last try, all set to accept he was going to have to call his mum.
“Hello?” Shaunna answered.
The squeaking stopped, and Adele blew air out of her mouth in relief. Dan did likewise, so glad to hear The Calm Voice of Reason on the other end of the line. He put the phone on speaker. “Hey, Shaunna. You OK?”
“Yep. Sorry, I was upstairs.”
“Ah. Listen, we’re gonna have to postpone tonight. Adele’s gone into labour.”
“She’s…oh, wow!” Shaunna repeated the news, presumably to Andy, and then spoke into the phone again. “OK. What do you need us to do? Let everyone know about dinner?”
“Yeah, if you wouldn’t mind…”
“Course not. I’m about to leave for work, but Andy could come and look after Madam, if that helps?”
“Err… I was gonna ask Mum, but…” Dan looked to Adele. She shrugged. “OK. We’ll drop her off at your place, tell him.”
“Will do. I’ll let you go. Love to you all!”
“Cheers. I’ll call later.”
“Bye, and thank you!” Adele said quickly.
Shaunna made a mwah sound and ended the call.
Dan put his phone away. “Do we need to leave now?”
“No, we need to slow down. It’s only the third contraction, Dan. I wouldn’t have been worrying about the dinner party otherwise, would I?”
“OK, I’ll go get—third contraction, did you say?”
“Yeah. I wasn’t sure about the first two.” Adele smiled, intending to reassure him.
He gave her a swift smile in response. “I’ll get your bag. What else do you need?” He turned to leave, but she caught his arm and stopped him.
“I need for you to chill out. I’m OK, sweetie, I promise.”
He nodded. “Let’s get to the hospital. That’ll make me feel better.”
When they arrived at Andy and Shaunna’s place, Dan got out of the car with Shu and carried her to the house to expedite proceedings. Andy opened the door as Dan approached, took one look at his younger brother and said, “Cacking your pants, bro?”
“You don’t know the half of it,” Dan admitted. “Got to keep a brave face, though, haven’t I?”
Andy took Shu from Dan and glanced past him, to Adele, who was watching them from the passenger seat of Dan’s convertible. She gave Andy a little wave. He waved back. “She looks like she’s doing all right.”
“Of course she is. She always does. Right, I’m off.” Dan started moving away. “I left a message on Mum’s phone. Dunno where she is, but she can’t have gone far.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’m not going anywhere, and Shu loves looking after the babies, don’t you?” Andy held up his hand for her to high-five.
Shu bashed his palm with hers and shouted, “Go Team Jiffies!”
“Team Jiffies!” Andy repeated with a grin.
Dan only half heard their fun interchange, still hung up on don’t worry. He was sick of hearing it, because it was easy for everyone else to say. They hadn’t been through the months of beeping machines and blood transfusions, breathing apparatus and high temperatures. They weren’t the ones who discovered that losing a baby, regardless of being only a few weeks into the pregnancy, brought back not just the stress of Shu’s first few months of life, but everything else that had been going on back then. That same anger flared like a flame finding oxygen, and Dan gritted his teeth. He wasn’t going to take it out on Andy. Not again.
“Good luck, bro,” Andy called.
Dan raised his hand in a wave as he climbed into the driver’s seat once more. “You ready, babe?” he asked Adele. She giggled. “What’s funny?”
“You called me babe.”
“And?”
“You’ve never called me it before.”
Dan started the car and moved off. “I’m pretty sure I have.”
“No, you haven’t but it doesn’t matt-er-oooh-oooh-another.” Adele clasped her hands to the sides of her bump and started squeaking again. Dan put his foot down.
He didn’t get very far very fast. There were roadworks on the main route through the town, causing a mile-long tailback. He turned off to take a detour and got stuck behind a tractor, but at least it was still moving, unlike the lorry outside the furniture shop, the double-decker bus with its back end jutting diagonally across the road, and the idiot boy racer in a souped-up hatchback who’d spun off the roundabout, with every other driver goose-necking as they passed.
“For fuck’s sake, shift!” Dan banged the side of his fist on the steering wheel and kept it there, horn blaring and doing nothing to reduce the chaos on the road ahead. “Right. I’ve had enough.” He slammed into reverse, turned the wheel hard left and bumped up onto the pavement to get around the other cars. Back on clear road again, he was two minutes at most from the hospital when he spotted blue lights in his wing mirror. Anticipating it would be an ambulance, he shifted closer to the kerb and didn’t pay much attention until the police car was directly behind him and indicating for him to pull over. He quickly did so—the sooner he got this cleared up the better.
The officer got out of the car, as did Dan. “Oh, bloody terrific.” Of course it was going to be one of the lads who played for the Blue Anchors. He was expecting trouble.
“Dan Jeffries,” the officer said, hardly trying to hide his smugness. Dan nodded. “What happened back there?” He turned his head in the direction of the roundabout, still congested with the crashed hatchback and the idiots goggling at it.
“My fiancée’s in labour. We need to get to the hospital.”
“Oh.” The officer nodded. “Right, well, drive with more care in future, all right?”
Dan nodded. “I will, thanks.”
“All the best.” The police officer retreated to his patrol car.
Stunned, and, strangely, feeling much calmer, Dan got back in the car. He glanced Adele’s way and shrugged. “You OK?”
“Yep. Are you?”
He reached over and took her hand. “Excited to meet our son.”
Adele smiled and squeezed his hand. “Me, too.”
Dan released her and fastened his seat belt, only then realising he’d driven all the way from home without it. He made it the last half mile to the hospital without further incident and parked in the dropping-off area. They walked through to the antenatal unit, where he left Adele with a midwife and went to move the car.
By the time Dan got back to the ward, the consultant had been to see Adele, confirmed she was in labour, and reassured her all was well. Adele was on the bed, propped against pillows and with a monitor attached to her belly; the fast thump-thump of the baby’s heartbeat filled the room.
“They’re doing the caesarean in the next couple of hours,” she explained.
“Am I still allowed in?” Dan asked the midwife.
“Absolutely,” she confirmed. “Would you like a drink, Mr. Jeffries?”
“Yeah, coffee would be great, thanks.”
The midwife left and was back within a minute, with a plastic cup of coffee, which she left on the table over the end of Adele’s bed. Dan thanked her, and she left again.
“God, I’m bored already,” Adele grumbled once they were alone.
“Yeah, that doesn’t surprise me.”
Adele pouted sulkily. “Get my phone for me?”
Dan collected her bag and handed it over without complaint; she could be a princess for one day. Well, for another few weeks, and he’d be at home, hopefully with not too much happening in the way of work. Alice had offered to oversee their admin clerk, and Andy was able to do a fair bit in the evenings, once Shaunna was home from work, so Dan could look after Adele while she was post-operative, and get used to having a newborn baby all over again.
His brain was already racing ahead, thinking about the future. Strange as it would no doubt seem to anyone other than Adele, he was looking forward to sleepless nights, teething, colic, sterilising bottles… But they weren’t there yet. Just a few more hours and he could finally get organised; it wasn’t his style to leave things hanging. In business, he was successful because he acted fast; he took risks, and it usually paid off. In his personal life, however, the rash decisions had always come back to get him.
A nurse came into the room and wheeled a blood pressure monitor over to the bed. “How are you feeling, Adele?”
“Great.”
The nurse fastened the cuff around Adele’s arm. “This is your second one, is that right?”
“Yeah. We’ve got a little girl. She was prem.”
“How early was she?”
“Thirteen weeks. Nine hundred and thirty grams.”
“Wow, she was tiny. How old is she now?”
“Four next month.”
“And is she doing OK?”
“She’s doing brilliantly.”
The blood pressure monitor beeped, and the nurse smiled again. “All fine.”
“Phew! No pre-eclampsia this time.”
“No, and that’s a good, strong heartbeat baby’s got. I think you’re going into theatre next, so you’re looking at about half an hour before they take you down.”
“So soon?” Dan asked.
“Nothing to worry about,” the nurse said and then left them alone again.
Dan stayed turned towards the door so Adele couldn’t see his face. “You’ve not had any more contractions since we got here.”
“No, but the consultant said he’d do it today anyway.”
Dan swallowed hard, annoyed with himself for getting tearful.
“Come here, sweetie,” Adele commanded gently. He shook his head. “Come on.”
“I should be looking after you.”
“We’re looking after each other.”
He relented and sat on the chair next to the bed, looking around the room and then homing in on the monitor screen. “Incredible. Was it like this last time?”
“Sort of. Do you remember the text you sent me?”
“Which one?”
“When I told you I was in hospital.”
“Oh, that one.” Dan cleared his throat, still feeling guilty for how dismissive his reply had been that day. He’d been more concerned about his dead koi than Adele’s hospitalisation, convinced she was making a fuss over nothing, like she’d done throughout her pregnancy. He still didn’t know what she’d been playing at, because it was attention-seeking, and it was Tom’s attention she was after, not Dan’s, even though she’d known from the start that the baby wasn’t Tom’s.
Dan wasn’t proud of himself for screwing Tom over. If the boot had been on the other foot, Dan would have landed in the same place as Rachel Perry. But at least in the end he’d done the decent thing. He’d walked away so Tom and Adele could make a go of their marriage with ‘their’ baby. While Shu had the Jeffries colouring, she was the spitting image of Adele. Like no-one had suspected Andy was Krissi’s father, no-one would have doubted Shu was Tom’s if they’d stuck to the story.
So Dan had kept his mind on the koi, and the bastard who’d sold him the diseased fish that infected the rest got the full brunt of his rage, whilst Adele got a text to the effect of ‘What is it this time? An ingrown hair on your bikini line?’ She hadn’t bothered replying. The next message he received after that was from Tom the following day, to tell him the baby had been delivered by emergency caesarean and Adele had had a stroke. All Dan could do was sit at home, nursing his broken fingers and drinking away the pain.
The week that followed was still a confused blur and probably always would be. The stabbing, the surgery, the morphine… Every time he came round, Adele was sitting at his bedside, but it had been a good few days before she’d told him she’d broken off the marriage. Then he’d met Shu for the first time, and nothing else mattered…until now, and the imminent arrival of their second child.
“All right then, Adele and Dan. Are you ready?” The midwife and a porter with a wheelchair drew to a halt at the end of the bed.
Adele smiled at Dan and took his hand. “As we’ll ever be.”
Dan moved away for the midwife to disconnect the monitor from Adele’s belly, while the porter wheeled the chair closer for Adele to get into it. Once she was comfortable, the four of them made the journey to the lift and then down to the operating theatre. Aside from the short contraction Adele had as they left the lift, everything was low-key, no sense of urgency, which Dan found disconcerting, because it was at odds with how he was feeling. They’d left the baby heart monitor on the ward, and he was trying to stay focused on Adele rather than the ever-cycling worry that if something had gone wrong on the way down, they wouldn’t know about it. He was on the brink of convincing himself that the midwife and porter were faking the calmness for precisely that reason, when Shaunna came along the corridor towards them.
“Alright?” Dan asked, once again overwhelmed by relief.
“Yep. Hayley sent me packing. Apparently, I was too distracted to be trusted with peroxide.” Shaunna hugged Dan and whispered close to his ear, “Everything OK?”
“Err, yeah,” he said doubtfully. Shaunna released him and quickly hugged Adele.
“Come through when you’re done here,” the midwife told Dan.
“OK, will do.” He waited for the three of them to clear the double doors to the operating theatres before he turned back to Shaunna. “I don’t know what’s going on.”
“What d’you mean?”
“Well, they’ve told us she’s having the caesarean now, but…I don’t know. It’s all too calm, if you get me?”
Shaunna laughed and squeezed Dan’s arm. “That’s good,” she said.
“It wasn’t like this the last time?”
“God, no. It was panic stations. They rushed us down here, with the monitors, and Adele was still in the bed. We were straight into theatre.” Shaunna blinked back tears at the memory. “It was terrifying.”
Dan glanced at the theatre doors and then back at Shaunna. “Do you want to go in with her again?”
“Not unless you want me to.”
“Not necessarily, but…I never thanked you for being there for her last time, and I suppose if anyone should be at Adele’s side, it’s you. You’ve earned the right, I haven’t.”
“Oh, Dan. That’s a lovely thought. Thank you. But you should go in now. I’ll be out here waiting, OK?”
Dan nodded and moved towards the theatre doors.
“Good luck!” he heard Shaunna call as he stepped into the cool, bright corridor beyond.
The anaesthetist was in the process of setting up Adele’s epidural when Dan reached the room, and a health care assistant brought theatre scrubs for him to put on before he was allowed in. In spite of all the machines, overly bright lights, and faces hidden by green surgical masks, Adele seemed very chilled.
“D’you reckon Shaunna and Andy’ll ever get married?” Dan asked. It wasn’t an entirely random thought, although he hadn’t intended to say it out loud.
“Course they will,” Adele said in her ‘I know something you don’t know’ voice. Dan raised an eyebrow in query and waited for her to elaborate, which she duly did. “They’ve talked about it. They’re going to wait, though, until the twins are old enough to be part of it.”
“So what’ll that be, then? Wedding in a half pipe?”
Adele laughed. “Can you imagine? Mind you, they make designer skiwear.”
“Yeah, I know. I’ve got some.”
“Hm. You’ve had those salopettes since you were at university.”
“Not true. I bought them for Calgary.”
“That’s still ten years ago.”
“Snow doesn’t go out of fashion.”
Adele rolled her eyes. She looked different without her make-up and false eyelashes: younger, and beautiful as ever.
They continued their playful quarrel while the staff fitted Adele with surgical stockings and a catheter. Someone put electrodes on her chest, whilst someone else put a cannula in her hand and attached a bag of clear fluid. Injections of antibiotics and something to stop blood clots were given; the anaesthetist checked the epidural had worked its magic, and then it was time.
“Can we give him a name yet?” Adele asked.
“Almost,” Dan said. He took up position at Adele’s side, aware of his racing pulse and sweaty armpits. The theatre was air-conditioned, so it wasn’t especially warm, but Dan was worked up enough to feel like he was in the middle of a full workout. Beyond the green screen, the surgeon and her staff toiled, talked through each step—the incision, parting muscles, cutting Adele’s uterus—
“Brrr,” Adele said, and the midwife laughed.
“That’s your waters breaking, my love.”
“It feels weird.” Adele’s eyes widened, and she looked at Dan. “Really weird. Kind of tickles, except I can’t feel a thing.”
“Completely normal,” the midwife assured her.
“All right, here’s baby,” the surgeon said.
She lifted the baby up, high enough for Adele to see. Dan gulped and covered his face with his hand.
“Oh, you, silly…” Adele grabbed him around the head and tugged him to her.
“What a handsome son you’ve got here. Congratulations, both. We’ll just give him a look-over.”
She handed the baby to the paediatrician, and Dan watched, more curious and less frantic, as his son’s breathing, reflexes and so on were tested.
“Ten,” the paediatrician said with a smile and brought the baby back, placing him on Adele’s chest. Dan was crying so much his face hurt.
“What’s it out of?” he asked.
The paediatrician laughed. “Competitive dad, eh?” She directed the question at the baby and then looked up again, still laughing. “Ten out of ten,” she confirmed.
“Get in there,” Dan said, grinning through his tears. He leaned in to give Adele a gentle kiss and turned his attention to his son.
“Hello, baby.” Adele brushed her finger over his cheek, glancing up and repeating the action with Dan. “Can we give him a name now?” she asked.
Dan nodded. “Yep. What did you want to call him?”
“You first.”
“Robbie.”
“Robbie?” she repeated. She scowled. “Please tell me you’re not naming our son after Rob Simpson-Scumbag? I mean, I know you’ve been mates forever, and he didn’t really do anything wrong. But what about Andy?”
“You want to call him Andy?”
“No.” Adele tutted and gave a huge airy sigh.
“It’s nothing to do with Rob.”
“Are you sure? I mean, it’s a lovely name, but we might as well call him Henry if you’re going to name him after a mate.”
Dan shrugged. “It’d mean he’d have your dad’s name, too. Is that what you want?”
“Not really. But you and Aitch are still best mates now. Why Robbie?”
“It’s just… Don’t laugh, but it’s what I always wished my name was.”
“Yours is perfect, sweetie.”
“Nah. It’s not.”
“It is. I love it. You wanna know how much I love your name, Daniel?”
Dan shifted uncomfortably. He’d only ever been called ‘Daniel’ when he was in trouble, other than by his mum, who’d always insisted on calling all three sons by their full names.
“I wanted Robbie to have your name,” Adele said.
“Dan Junior?” He laughed and shook his head, but he could feel his face getting warm. “Poor kid.”
“OK. So how about Robert Daniel Jeffries?”
Dan pondered for a moment, repeating the name in his head.
“What do you think?” Adele prompted.
“I think I’m the luckiest man alive. I love you.” Dan poked his little finger inside Robbie’s tiny fist.
Adele sighed and placed her hand on top of Robbie’s. “I love you, too.”
“D’you reckon we’ll ever get married?”
“Don’t push it, Jeffries.”
* * * * *