And Baby Makes Two - Dyan Sheldon [60]
Hilary laughed. “Well, say something, Lana. Aren’t you pleased?”
I just kept staring at the lease like it was Dorothy’s ruby shoes.
“Of course I’m pleased.”
I was beyond pleased. About a dozen songs were playing in my head at once. After all my disappointments, everything was going to turn out exactly as I’d planned.
The rest of them all started talking at once. Mick was trying to work out exactly how much money I’d have with my Income Support and my Child Benefit and my Housing Benefit, banging on about making a budget for me. He said it was an important lesson in economics. Nan was going on about how I’d be able to go back to school once Shinola was older, and maybe even get a part-time job. Justin didn’t think I’d have to wait that long. He thought the government had special programmes for girls in my position with crèches and stuff. Dara reminded me how she paid for her degree in business studies by cleaning houses. Charlene said I should find other young mothers in my area and form a baby-minding club where we each took a turn so the others could have a few hours off. “It’s important you have some time for yourself,” said Charlene.
I let them talk. It was like having a shower in words. They all ran off me and disappeared.
I nodded and smiled, but I wasn’t really listening to any of them. I was listening to the songs in my head.
It was true what everybody always said about things being darkest before the dawn. Here I’d been feeling down and lonely, and all the time every problem I had was about to be solved. The flat was mine! My very own! Now Les could move in and we could live happily ever after.
Nan held up her glass. “A toast!” she cried. “To the best of New Years.”
One song separated itself from all the others and kicked into stereophonic. “Just blahblah and me … and baby makes three… We’re happy in … my … blue … hea-vennn…”
I raised my glass. “To the best of New Years!”
Happy New Year to Us
I was almost tempted to go home with Hilary and Charley and stay with them till after Boxing Day. They wanted me to. Well, they wanted Shinola to. Even Charley. They couldn’t leave her alone. Here I was trying to teach her not to expect to be picked up every time she cried, and there they were, practically arm-wrestling over which one was going to hold her. But I had too much to do to waste time with them. I was full of plans and energy again. Hilary and Charley were coming to move the rest of her stuff in the week, but I said I’d start packing things up before then. I couldn’t wait to get started. The sooner she was really out, the sooner I was really in and my life could finally begin properly.
And, of course, there was Les to tell. He’d probably ring on Boxing Day to wish me a Merry Christmas, after his mother had calmed down from the excitement of having him home for a week. I was going to be there when he did.
I spent Boxing Day waiting for Les’s call, but it never came. I reckoned his mother must have dragged him off to relatives, so he never had a chance. The first thing the next morning I tied Hilary’s books in bundles and put everything that wasn’t breakable into black bin liners. I got so involved in packing that I didn’t realize Les hadn’t rung till ten o’clock that night, when I finally collapsed. I was lying there, surrounded by all the garbage Hilary Spiggs had collected over the years, imagining the flat the way it was going to be. The walls and the furniture were white. There was a set of those stackable glass and chrome tables beside the leather sofa. The coffee table was big and round and also made of glass and chrome. The lights had frosted glass shades and pointed at the ceiling. Les was in our blue and yellow kitchen, making us a nightcap. He sat beside me and handed me my glass. He kissed my cheek. He raised his glass. “Merry Christmas, baby,” he whispered. “And a Happy New Year.” That was when I realized that he hadn’t rung. I was almost too tired to care.
“He’ll ring,” I told myself as I pulled my new quilt around