CHAPTER 18
Kate looked at me sharply the next morning.

“Why, Annie?”

“Why what?”

“Why no sleep? I can see it in your eyes, trust me I’m a doctor and all that shit. Nightmares again?”

That was when Shan chose to come into the kitchen, and as my eyes flicked to her Kate just sighed and nodded.

“Always the same issue, in the end, with girls like you. Shan, love, can you give your big sis here a few minutes?”

“OK…” and she was off.

“Sit down, Annie. It’s the mask thing again, isn’t it? Not real, not worthy, not able to compete with real women, all that silliness?”

I nodded, eyes down. “But it’s not silliness, is it? I can’t really compete, as you put it. What do I do if some real woman comes along, someone who can do what I can’t?”

“I thought so. Kiddy-watching, always the same stupidity. That’s what it is, Annie, not silliness, not a little bit of a wobble, but bloody stupidity. Let’s take a look around, shall we? Who do you know with kids, apart from Kirsty, and forget about those who are grown up, OK?”

“Nobody, really, apart from Tony and Arris”

“Whose child is Jim?”

“Well, Tony’s, of course”

“Not Sarah’s?”

“Well…”

“What does he call her? And whose child is Darren? More to the point, who is it that I have just sent out of the room? I am going to tell you a little story, you stupid, stupid tart, and you are going to sit still and listen. Sod it, no you are not, you are going to make a pot of tea and listen, right?”

I started the process, wondering what had triggered her sharpness. She softened her voice.

“Annie…look, why do you think neither of us, neither my love nor I, have had kids before Shan?”

“Dunno, really, always assumed you didn’t want to involve a man, aye?”

“Annie, there are all sorts of ways round that, with turkey basters and stuff, and to tell the truth, we did consider you and Eric as possibilities, but…look, I can’t, it’s a mixture of things wrong with my bits, and I just can’t, and if I can’t, she won’t, for exactly the same stupid fucking reason you are shoving your head up your arse right now. Look at it this way, you could still have kids, in one way, you always had that choice, but I can’t, not in any way, so which of us is the worthless one, AYE?”

Her voice had risen again, and she took a few breaths to calm down. I waited.

“Look, love, at the moment I just want to slap you for being an idiot, and at the same time I want to hold you and make it better, but it won’t be better. You have been handed the shitty end of the stick, we both have, but that’s only part of what life is about. Look at the two of us. Upstairs, there are two snoring, farting lumps who steal the duvet and hog the bathroom in the morning. Who could ever want more than such pure romance?”

That broke the spell, and she started to giggle, and I started to cry, and then Shan joined us again, not knowing exactly what the problem had been, but there to offer what comfort she could. People knew me, it seemed, better than I knew myself, and yet they still cared, still offered their love.

Stupid. Bloody stupid…I looked up from Shan’s hug to see another pair of eyes looking at me, eyes full of concern and love, eyes that I never wanted to look away, and Eric just eased himself in next to Shan and my night fears faded.

“I don’t know about Ginny, but I don’t fart that much”

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Two days later, and Christmas Day dawned, and for the first time our house had a child available to receive presents. Breakfast was tea, mince pies and chocolates for us, and a great bowl of some raw vegetable fibre for Ginny. There were no rafts of presents, no swathes of torn paper spread around, just small packages and smiles. Kate in particular looked pleased with herself, and Shan was all touches and shyness, as I realised what the day actually meant to her.

“Got my big present at home, like…issa bike, a proper one what looks like Mum Ginny’s”

Ginny smiled at her, with more softness than I remembered seeing in her face before.

“Well, dunno why you had to have pink, Shan!”

There was a very old-fashioned look from the smaller person.

“Because I am a girl, and girls do pink!”

Kate laughed at that, as Ginny muttered something about gender stereotyping and the fact that at least the bike had a proper frame and not some mixte shit or other.

“What else have you got, Shan?”

“Got a phone, Annie!”

“Aye? Who you gonna call?”

Grins, and teasing, and blushes, and then a few minutes of handing over our numbers for her to load onto her new phone, which was as pink as pink could be, to Ginny’s obviously feigned disgust. Kate laughed.

“Yeah, the bike is at home, and there’s some clothes and shoes and stuff, and not all of them are pink. Merry…”

She handed my cousin a small box, to Merry’s astonishment.

“But I have brought no gifts…I didn’t realise there would be so many friends here”

Kate flapped a hand, dismissively. “Look, whole thing is, you don’t chuck stuff out to people because you want something back, yeah. I’ve got my two girls, what could you ever give me, could anyone, that would trump that? And we have a new friend, in you, so there’s a gift of the finest”

Merry opened the little package, and there was a small Celtic cross, in silver, on a chain. Kate watched her face.

“We know of your faith, love, we just weren’t sure that you did jewellery, so we thought, simple, but something with a connection to you. Shan found it, actually”

“I really do not know what to say. It is as perfect a gift as such a thing could ever be, and I have no words in me to thank you adequately”

Ginny sniffed. “It’s only a little thing”

“No. It is only a little symbol of a greater thing. You warm my heart and soul with this, and I know that dear Annie has friends that she can be proud of”

Shan perked up. “No. Not friends, Merry. We’s family”

The answering smile was beatific. “Then, family, we have to wash and dress. St Nicholas’ church awaits”

Ginny was shocked. “You are having a giraffe! Chrimbo morning and you want to go to church AGAIN?”

“Simon has promised there will be a light lunch for us, Ginny”

“Yebbut…”

“Frozen yoghurt…”

“Fuck, yeah, I’ll go for that! Er…sorry, should watch myself a bit”

Merry was still smiling. “Virginia, if we are to be family, you must promise me one thing”

“Wossat, girl?”

“Do not change. Well, apart from into your good clothes. Annie, I have some gifts with me, but they are not much. May we deal with them after the service? The family will be there shortly, it is best we are not late”

We weren’t, and the singing was almost as good as it had been , but not quite, as it lacked the baritone and tenor of the Powells. Simon gave a simple sermon, largely devoted to drumming up charity donations, it seemed, and then we waited as the church emptied before making our way to the Hall again. I realised that the only people involved were my family and the girls, together with the Woods, who had met us at the main door before the service. Chantelle was very demure, in skirt and blouse and knee socks, and years fell off her face as she approached her boyfriend with her first ever Christmas present to him.

Each held a similarly sized package, and with a silly chain of “No, you first”, Darren unwrapped his.

“The new England shirt! Yeah! Thanks, Shan!”

Hers came next, and I heard Ginny’s hiss of mock disapproval as the powder pink colour was revealed. It was a fleece jacket. Darren was in that rush of embarrassment in which things have to be explained, then explained again, until the giver runs out of steam or words, or, as in this case, is physically prevented from further speech, which Shan did with a kiss.

“To keep me warm when I watch you play, lahk?”

That boy can blush for England.

A light lunch, sandwiches and cake, and tea, of course, and then the frozen yoghurt that it transpired Eric had mentioned to Merry, who had mentioned it to Simon, exactly when I didn’t know. I hugged my tea to me as I leant back against my man, his warmth driving back the demons of doubt, and watched the couples. Naomi and Albert were as snuggled as the two of us, with the same daft grin on their faces as I felt on mine as we watched the youngest pair, and it was clear that Simon and Merry had managed to cross their own little threshold. Parenthood…oh, you devious bastard. All of that sermon, all the references to giving what you could, opening your arms to the needy, it was all aimed at me.

Can’t carry a baby? Carry something or someone else.

I looked out at Darren, and Chantelle, at Merry’s smile and Simon’s ‘accidental’ touches, and felt the warmth of the man who loved me, and all of Kate’s lecture lived for me. I couldn’t be anyone but myself, so let me make that person the best I could.

Eric kissed the back of my neck, just then. Sometimes, his timing is perfection.