Chapter 31
THIRTY-ONE
ARIELLA
‘You need to go back, Caleb. Samir says you’ve been dodging his calls.’
‘I have, and I’m not going back.’
‘They will easily make the case that you’re causing financial and logistical problems and take legal action against you.’
‘Let them.’
‘We had a plan. It was approved. You can’t just walk out and cancel all your appointments for the foreseeable future.’
‘Christopher, I’m not going back.’
‘He will destroy you, Caleb.’
I intentionally make a noise on the stairs so that Caleb knows I’m there.
‘I’ll call you back.’ Caleb cuts the call. ‘Aari?’
‘Hi. I just wanted some water.’
‘Go back upstairs, I’ll bring it up.’
‘Can we talk?’ I ask as I clear the last step.
‘Of course. Take a seat, I’ll get your water.’
He grabs two waters and when he sits on the couch, I move into his open arms.
‘I heard you. You have to go back.’
‘Aari, I’m not leaving you like this.’
‘I’m beginning to feel a little better.’
‘You’re not, Mason.’ He kisses my head and holds on to me a little tighter. He’s about to say something that he thinks I’m not going to like.
‘Mason, you need to see a doctor and a midwife. We need to get you properly checked out to make sure you’re okay. There are tablets you should be taking. You’ve survived the last couple of months on variations of toast, cheese and ginger tea. Before I can even think about going anywhere, I need to make sure that you’re okay. You don’t have to do anything apart from show up and have the occasional phone conversation. I will do it all, I just need you to let me.’
Everything inside me is rejecting the idea. It’s too big, it’s too daunting, too many new people. Then there will be the prodding, the poking, the pressure to be the happy, bubbly mum. I don’t feel like that at all.
‘Please let me help, Aari,’ Caleb pleads.
‘Okay. Please can we stick to the absolutely essential stuff?’
Caleb hugs me so tightly, I absorb some of his courage.
By the end of the week, I have a new GP, I’ve had an appointment with a midwife and, because I’ve left it a little late, a scan has been confirmed for the following week – by the midwife’s calculation, I’m already at fourteen weeks. Caleb has picked up a load of vitamins that I’ve started taking. To stop me from stressing out, he called Samir and agreed to return after all my tests were done. He’s still going to face some form of disciplinary action, but at least he’s not going to be dragged through court.
On Friday shortly after noon, for the first time, Lara and Caleb left the house together, having asked me to relax on the couch in order to receive a delivery. They’ve been a bit too close and it’s wonderful to have the house to myself. The ground floor is open, with isolated structure pillars giving away where demarcating walls used to be. The walls are a comforting Scandinavian blue, with white trims surrounding a yellow accent wall. The wool couches are neutral and pristine, with inviting rugs and throws. Everything feels and smells new. The windows flood the living room and kitchen with light and, for the first time, I feel like this could be my home. The huge, gleaming kitchen calls to me. I’ve stayed away, aside from one late night when I came looking for bread. I run my finger along the countertop and it makes me smile. I pull out my first drawer. The doorbell rings, startling me, and I slowly go to answer it.
‘Ariella Mason?’ the smiley woman asks.
‘Yes?’
‘Right. Please can I come in?’
I open the door and only then do I see what’s on her delivery trolley. She places the boxes from my butcher, grocer and fishmonger on the kitchen counter before she asks me to sign. It’s a lot. It’s too much. I can’t. I feel my breathing quicken.
‘Are you all right, love?’ the kind lady says.
I close my eyes, take a few deep breaths and step towards her to take the clipboard. I sign quickly and escort her out before I can ask her to take it all back.
I leave everything where it is, return to the solace of the living room, climb on the couch, pull the throw over me, close my eyes and try to breathe through the anxiety of having to deal with the puzzle on my kitchen counter.
‘Hi.’ Caleb kisses me awake. ‘I’m sorry we were out so long. Lara wanted ice cream after I picked up some clothes from the flat and made me go all the way to Covent Garden.’
‘I have second-hand cravings.’ Lara smiles. ‘I picked up a couple of tubs of gelato for us.’
‘The best gelato place is literally here in Richmond.’
‘Not the same. My tastebuds are changing. It’s for sure Aari’s hormones.’ Lara smacks her lips a couple of times.
‘I’m sorry we missed the delivery. I called your guys and just asked them to repeat the last order. They were delighted you were back. The grocer gave you a free order and the butcher threw in a rib of beef on the bone, but your fishmonger was stingy?—’
‘Caleb, I can’t. It’s a little overwhelming and?—’
‘Aari, this food isn’t for us. You’re still struggling with most things that aren’t toast. I thought we could maybe cook something for the shelter together. If you don’t feel up to it, we can just take all the ingredients over tomorrow morning. No pressure, but I thought either way, we could go and say hello?’
The fact that he still cares about the shelter warms my heart.
‘Can I think about it?’
‘Of course. I’ll put it all away so it’s not staring at you.’ Caleb gives me a quick kiss on the forehead and walks to the kitchen. Watching him do his best, which is shoving things recklessly in the fridge, from the couch becomes too much to bear.
‘Wait.’
‘Huh? I’ve almost finished.’ Caleb turns round, looking proud of himself. Bless him.
‘Can I help?’ I leave the couch. Now that most things have been unpacked, it doesn’t seem so scary.
I spend the rest of the afternoon cleaning, cutting, packing, repackaging and labelling the items. Caleb sits attentively opposite me on the kitchen island with a pencil and paper, making a note of the combinations and potential recipe ideas I throw at him. We also make a list of staples we need, hit the supermarket app and place a delivery.
I manage to cook a few simple dishes with Caleb’s help, while Lara spends most of the afternoon trying to learn and record a social media dance to send to Honey. She doesn’t get good until she has had two big glasses of wine. I’m not ready to face the shelter yet, so Caleb runs the food over for me.
‘You know, just to be clear, I’m not saying that I was wrong about Caleb…’ Lara trails off.
‘But?’
‘I may have misjudged him the teeniest, tiniest bit. I swear, if you tell him, I will deny it and never speak to you again.’
‘Okay.’ I smile to myself. The revelation that Lara cares deeply about Caleb isn’t the news she thinks it is.
‘Basically, he can stay. I could tolerate him if he sticks around.’
‘Sure. Good to know.’
Just then, my phone vibrates.
It’s a text from Caleb.
Delivery done. Can I pick anything up for you on my way back?
‘Oooh! Tell him nothing. And then when he actually turns up with nothing, we can accuse him of neglect. Today has been too wholesome. I’m feeling toxic.’
Lara says ‘nothing’.
Right. I’ll pick up some wine and chocolate then. See you in a few. I love you.
I don’t hesitate.
I love you so much Caleb.
On the day of the scan, Lara is the first to be ready, and she sticks by me so closely that they have to let the three of us into the room for the ultrasound.
‘It’ll be a little cold.’
I’m holding tightly onto Lara’s hand as the cool gel goes on my tummy.
‘Ready?’
I nod.
‘Wait,’ Lara says, letting go of my hand. ‘Caleb?’
She quietly swaps places with Caleb and he interlocks our fingers.
All three of us stare at the small screen. The hard roller presses down on my stomach until the baby comes into view.
‘It’s got Caleb’s head!’ Lara laughs.
For the first time, it hits me. This baby is real. It’s clearly unhappy that it has been disturbed and is wriggling around. The little heartbeat is what undoes me. The rush of love I have been praying, hoping, waiting to feel hits me all so once. It’s so forceful, I gasp.
‘Strong,’ the technician says, as she takes some measurements. ‘Would you like to know the gender?’
For the first time, I take my eyes off the screen and look at Caleb. He is in absolute pieces and can’t wipe the silent tears he is shedding, fast enough. The technician has to hand him a box of tissues with her spare hand.
‘Caleb, what do you think?’
It’s the first time I’ve ever seen Caleb unable to speak. His voice is inaudible as it quavers, but I manage to decipher that he doesn’t mind.
‘Lara?’
‘Yes please, but only if you want to. I can live with the suspense.’
‘I think so,’ I say to the technician.
‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes. I see Caleb nodding along too.’
‘Mum and Dad, you’re going to have a little girl.’
Caleb, Lara and I burst into tears that won’t stop as our daughter continues to entertain herself on the screen and the technician takes a few pictures for us.
‘From what I can see, everything looks good. Mum and Dad, we should get all the other test results soon. Congratulations.’
The three of us hold on to each other tightly, sobbing, until the technician leaves the room for us to compose ourselves.
Seeing our little baby switched something on in me. I would do absolutely everything to nurture, protect and keep her. I left that room feeling a renewed sense of purpose. In that one afternoon, I went from the sharp, anxious chaos that was going on in my mind to absolute focus, to create the best environment I could for her.
When Caleb and I get into bed that night, I lift his hand and place it on my belly, where it has always belonged.