And Baby Makes Two - Dyan Sheldon [34]
The doctor told me off for not going to the birthing classes.
“I thought you promised me you’d try and go.”
It was more a question than a statement.
“I know I did,” I said. It was incredible how many people sounded just like my mother. “And we were going to, really, but my boyfriend had to go to the States for a few months. For work. It was sudden.”
She peered at me over her glasses. “You could have gone on your own.”
I smiled, sort of shy and embarrassed. “I didn’t fancy going without him.” Which I didn’t.
“It’s not too late,” said the doctor. “There’s a class next week.”
By next week I shouldn’t need any classes. By then I’d be a mother.
Or maybe not.
The doctor said I’d got the date wrong.
“The baby seems small, Lana. Do you think you could have made a mistake?”
I said I supposed I could have.
“This is all new to me,” I joked.
She gave me a Queen Victoria smile. You know, like it hurt.
“Well, you’re doing very well,” she assured me. But the baby wouldn’t come until September. “Virgo,” she said. “That’s a good sign.”
I got a book on horoscopes out of the library on my way home, so I could see for myself whether Virgo was a good sign or not. I didn’t have much else to do. It was the summer holidays, wasn’t it? Shanee and her family had gone to her grandad’s in Ireland for a few weeks. Les was in Greece with his mates. Even Gerri and Amie were away.
Plus, I already had everything ready for the baby. It was laid out in my room. My nan bought me a cot, and Charley bought me a pushchair, and my sisters bought me a load of clothes, all in yellow or green, since they didn’t believe I was definitely having a boy. I’d decided against breast-feeding because I reckoned I was bound to want to leave him sometimes, so I could see my friends and go out with Les, stuff like that. Hilary had to be able to feed him then. So she bought me bottles, a sterilizer and a box of disposable nappies. She called it “the starter set”. I even had my bag packed for the hospital with some stuff for the baby and my pyjamas, dressing-gown, slippers and toiletries, like it said in one of my pamphlets.
I hadn’t picked his name yet, though. I had a book of boys’ names that I got in Smiths. I reckoned I’d have plenty of time after I’d had him and knew what he was like to read through it and find the perfect one.
My mother said the doctor could be wrong.
“Is this from all your years of making appointments for other people?” I asked. “Is that what makes you an expert?”
“Don’t get clever with me,” said my mother. “I have had three children of my own, you know. All I’m saying is you seemed sure about when you stopped bleeding. Maybe the baby is small. Some babies are.”
“And all I’m saying is what the doctor told me yesterday. That he won’t be born till September.”
“But how do you feel?” pushed Detective Spiggs.
How the hell did she think I felt? She was the one who’d had three children of her own. She must’ve remembered feeling like a hippo with the flu.
“I feel brilliant,” I told her. “Never felt better.”
“So you don’t mind if I spend the night at Charley’s? You’ll be all right on your own?”
That was her latest torture. She didn’t want to leave me because I was so close to my delivery date, in case I was early or something and needed her help. I needed her help like Armani needs Calvin Klein.
“Of course I’ll be all right.”
She hesitated for a couple of seconds. I could tell she was torn between doing what she thought was right – staying home to torment