On the pamphlets I’ve read, antenatal classes are billed as being fun and relaxing, whilst also helping you to learn about childbirth.
The one Scott and I end up going to a couple of weeks after our hospital trip, however, is very different. Not least because it’s being run by someone even scarier than Scary Gladys.
The woman stands at the front, looking every inch the scary matron, while the expectant parents-to-be all file into a tiny, cramped room. I see some of them exchanging worried looks with their partners, wondering if it’s too late to run out of the door and book another class. Something tells me that this woman would run after them and drag them back in if they tried it.
‘Good afternoon,’ she barks, glaring at us. ‘My name is Wilma and this … is your antenatal class.’
I gulp and Scott puts a reassuring hand on my shoulder. Give me Scary Gladys over Wilma any day of the week.
‘Giving birth is like a military operation,’ she says. ‘When I was in the army, we had to be prepared for anything. We had to expect the unexpected! And that’s what you’ll have to do when you’re giving birth. Because in just a second, BAM! The situation changes and you have to be ready to react.’
I can see one woman is ready to burst into tears. I can’t say I blame her; Wilma isn’t exactly putting us at our ease.
‘Getting that baby out won’t be easy,’ she continues. ‘But it’s my job to equip you with the skills you’ll need to survive. It’s a jungle out there; go in unprepared and anything could happen.’
I frown. ‘But won’t we have a team of midwives and doctors to help us in case something goes wrong?’
Wilma’s beady eyes fix on me and I find myself wishing I hadn’t said anything. She takes a couple of steps towards me and I try to shuffle backwards. Unfortunately, Scott doesn’t quite get the message and stays put.
‘What’s your name?’ she asks.
‘C-Cleo Jones,’ I reply, feeling my body start to tremble.
‘Cleo, you’re going to find out that in a hospital, the only person you can rely on is yourself. The midwives, they’ll be coming in and out, but it’s you who’s delivering your baby. Now I can give you all the skills you’ll need to get through it because believe you me, it’s no walk in the park. Or you can walk out that door right now and take your chances on the day. What do you say?’
Her face is just inches from mine. I know the answer I want to give, but I have a feeling if I try to leave I won’t get out of here alive.
‘I-I’ll stay,’ I reply.
‘Good girl.’ Wilma steps away from me and goes back to address the whole class. ‘Now then, where were we?’
Just then, the door opens and Amanda slinks in. ‘Sorry I’m late,’ she says, flashing Wilma a disarming smile.
She takes a seat by herself at the far end of the room. When she sees me, she smiles and waves. My heart wrenches to see her all alone; I know underneath all her bravado she’s really scared about tackling motherhood by herself. However, as she makes herself comfortable on the carpet and listens to Wilma talk about all the things that could go wrong when we give birth, you’d never know it. The mask she wears for everyone, the one that tells them all she’s fine, is firmly in place.
*
By the end of the class, we’ve all learnt way more than we wanted to about pre-eclampsia and placenta praevia.
‘God, who needs the internet to scare you when you’ve got Wilma?’ I say with a chuckle.
‘I don’t think I’ll sleep tonight,’ Scott admits, running a hand over his pale face. ‘I know I did a lot of reading about that stuff at the beginning, but my god!’
‘Just count yourself lucky she didn’t show us the birthing video today,’ I reply, shuddering. ‘I don’t think that’ll be a pleasant experience!’
Just as we’re approaching the car, Amanda rushes by us with tears streaming down her face.
‘What’s up with her?’ Scott says with a frown. ‘Wonder if she’s OK?’
‘I’ll go and see her, wait here.’ I sprint off to catch up with her as she runs to her car. For a woman in her third trimester, she doesn’t half run fast.
‘Amanda, wait!’ I shout, just as I’m catching up with her. Luckily for me, she stops at her car and fumbles around in her handbag for her keys.
‘What’s wrong?’ I ask, putting my hand on her shoulder. She turns to look at me, her face red and puffy from crying.
‘It’s nothing, don’t worry about it,’ she says, wiping her eyes with her free hand. She fishes out her car keys and unlocks the door.
‘Look, I know today was a bit overwhelming and Wilma was pretty full-on,’ I say, putting my hand on the door to stop her pulling it shut. ‘But you don’t have to be alone in this. I know Adam’s an absolute shit and Steve’s not around either, but I can help you if you let me.’
Amanda looks at me for a moment, more tears threatening to spill down her face.
‘You can’t help me with this,’ she says, her voice trembling. ‘Nobody can. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go to the hospital because I think there’s something wrong with my baby.’
*
Scott and I manage to beat Amanda to the hospital. We’re waiting outside for her just as she pulls her car into the car park. When she sees us, her eyes widen.
‘What the hell are you two doing here?’ she asks, her jaw almost on the floor.
‘Did you really think we were going to let you come here alone?’ I reply. ‘We’ve been here so often they’ll probably invite us to the staff Christmas party!’
She sighs and lets out a weak chuckle. ‘Thank you guys. I’m really scared. I’ve been having some cramps and spotting, and I don’t think the baby’s kicked today.’
I put an arm round her and lead her inside. ‘I had some cramping not long ago; it turned out to be Braxton-Hicks contractions and everything was fine.’
She nods, but I can tell how terrified she is. I’ve been there myself and can conjure up the feeling easily. I put a protective hand over my bump, hoping nothing happens to my little girl while we’ll here.
The receptionist’s smile falls away when she sees me. ‘Back again, are we?’
‘Not for me this time,’ I reply. ‘My friend’s in the third trimester of her pregnancy and she’s been having some cramps and spotting.’
‘Sit down and I’ll get a doctor to come and see you,’ the receptionist says.
‘So you’ve been a pretty regular attender,’ Amanda chuckles as we take a seat.
‘You could say that,’ I reply. ‘I had a threatened miscarriage when I was around fourteen weeks and I was in here recently thinking I was going into labour! If they did loyalty cards, I’m pretty sure I’d qualify for one.’
Amanda’s silent for a moment as she stares around her. As I watch her, I can appreciate how Scott must’ve felt when we were here. He did his best to try and keep everything together while I was falling apart.
‘I was really excited when I found out I was pregnant,’ she admits, breaking the silence. ‘I thought Adam would stick by me and we’d be a family together. Then everything went wrong. I thought about not going ahead with the pregnancy, you know. Didn’t think I could be a mum by myself, but … When I saw that twelve-week scan, Cleo, I just fell in love. It just made everything so much more real, you know? God, if anything happens to the baby I don’t know what I’ll do.’
I feel a lump rise in my throat, but take a deep breath to keep it at bay. ‘Amanda, there could be any number of reasons why you’re having cramps and spotting. It could be an infection or something else they can treat really easily.’
She lets out an empty chuckle and bites her lip. ‘This is my punishment. I deserve this for what I put Steve through. If I hadn’t had that stupid affair with Adam bloody Hartwell, everything would be OK!’
Scott gets up from where he’s sitting and crouches down at her feet. ‘Listen … I know how scared you are right now. Cleo and I have both been here and it’s terrifying to think that something’s going to happen to your baby. I can’t promise you that everything will be absolutely fine, but the doctors here are amazing and they’ll do everything they can for you. And whatever happens, you won’t be alone.’
She smiles. ‘Thanks Scott, I really appreciate that.’
As we wait for the doctor to arrive, I can’t help but feel scared myself. I take a look at all the other people waiting to be seen and feel my nerves begin to fray.
‘It feels like tempting fate being here,’ I whisper to Scott. ‘Like something’s about to happen to our baby.’
He shakes his head and gives me a hug. ‘Nothing’s going to happen, don’t worry. Since it looks like we might be waiting for a while, why don’t we have a chat about baby names again?’
I groan. ‘Let’s not get into that just now, eh? It’ll only end in yet another argument because you don’t like anything from this century.’
‘Have you guys still not agreed on one?’ Amanda asks with a smile.
I shake my head. ‘We can’t seem to find one we both like, except Violet of course. I want to have a shortlist before she’s here though, in case she doesn’t suit Violet.’
‘Well, don’t call her Amanda, whatever you do! My name hasn’t brought me much good luck in the past.’ She chuckles and tucks a lock of blonde hair behind her ear. ‘I’m not sure what to call this little man either, to be honest. Definitely won’t be Adam after his dad though.’
‘Have you heard any more about him going for sole custody?’ Scott asks.
My jaw drops and I swat his arm. ‘Don’t bring that up right now, for God’s sake!’
‘It’s OK,’ Amanda replies. ‘Nah, I haven’t. I think it was just an empty threat because he was angry. Adam wouldn’t be able to handle bringing up a kid, and I think he’s probably realised that by now.’
Doubt flashes across her face, but she wipes it away in an instant. I can tell she’s trying to keep her mask in place, to hide how terrified she really is.
‘What names do you like?’ I ask, hoping to bring the conversation back to a lighter topic. ‘You must have some you think are nice.’
‘I like Evan,’ she replies. ‘And Carter. Carter Best sounds a bit like a law firm though, doesn’t it?’
I shake my head. ‘No, I think it sounds nice! Evan Best is nice as well. Adam doesn’t deserve to have his surname in the mix after the way he’s treated you.’
Some heavy footsteps followed by raised voices attract our attention. I look up to see a familiar figure waving his arms and arguing with the receptionist.
‘Oh my god,’ Amanda murmurs. ‘Adam’s here.’
‘How did he know you were at the hospital?’ Scott asks, clenching his fists in preparation for what could be about to happen.
‘I … I phoned him from the car,’ she admits, throwing her head into her hands. ‘I was scared and I didn’t know what to do! I didn’t think he’d actually turn up here.’
‘Shall I tell him to get lost?’ Scott offers.
She shakes her head, rises from her seat and smoothes her navy maternity dress down. ‘No, I called him so I’ll deal with him.’
Adam comes bounding over after he finishes arguing with the receptionist. I feel a little vindicated to see that he looks just as scared as Amanda does. The anger and bravado seeps away as he’s confronted with the mother of his child.
‘Hi,’ he says with an awkward little wave. ‘A-are you OK?’
‘I’ve been better.’ Her voice is as crisp and chilly as the weather outside. ‘I didn’t think you’d come.’
A little bit of the bravado comes back, and he shrugs. ‘Yeah, well it’s my baby and everything isn’t it? I didn’t want you to be by yourself.’
‘You didn’t seem to mind that I was by myself when you threw me out onto the street!’ Amanda frowns and sighs. ‘You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to, Adam. If you’re here to prove a point or something, just go.’
His gaze falls to the floor and I feel a little spark f joy to see him hanging his head in shame.
‘I’m not here to prove a point, Amanda. When I got your message, I could hear how scared you sounded and, well, I wanted to be here. I know there’s probably no chance we could try again, but whether we like it or not, we’re going to have a child together. And we should probably find a way to get along with each other. I’m sorry for how things ended between us, I was absolutely horrible to you. You didn’t deserve that.’
Her face is still contorted with rage as she looks at him. ‘What about all the threats you made? You said you were going to take our son away from me!’
Something changes in Adam’s expression. It’s softer now, and I’d even go so far as to say he’s shocked. ‘W-we’re having a boy? You didn’t tell me.’
I feel a pang of déjà vu as I watch them try to work each other out. It wasn’t so long ago that Scott and I were in the same position. As I take a sideways glance at him, I can tell he’s thinking the same thing.
‘Do you think they’ll get there?’ I ask, careful not to let them hear me.
‘As a couple, probably not,’ he replies. ‘But as parents, I don’t see why not.’
*
Everything turns out to be fine with Amanda’s baby. After a scan and examination, it’s found she has an infection that can be easily treated with a course of antibiotics.
‘Thanks for being here with me,’ she says to Scott and me as we walk across the car park. ‘I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.’
I open my arms to hug her. ‘You’d have done the same thing for me. Let’s hope the last few weeks go smoothly for us eh? Are you off home now?’
She nods. ‘The midwife says I need to get plenty of rest, so I’m going to try and take it easy. I’ve been trying to get the house sorted and the nursery decorated, it’s no wonder I’ve run myself down really.’
I look over her shoulder to see Adam standing outside the hospital, hands dug deep into his pockets and shifting from foot to foot.
‘And what about Adam?’ I ask, pointing to where he’s standing. ‘What’s he going to do now?’
She turns round to look at him and heaves a sigh. ‘I … I don’t know. He’s apologised over and over again for everything, but … I don’t know if I could ever trust him again. It wasn’t like he just freaked out at the idea of becoming a dad. He threw me out with nowhere to go.’
I watch them look at each other, and exchange a knowing grin with Scott. ‘Sometimes you just need to give each other a chance.’
I remember Natalie saying the same thing to me when Marilyn was in the hospital, and her less-than-convincing promise that she wouldn’t tell Scott she still loved him. A note of panic runs through me, but I bat it away. We haven’t heard from her in over a month, so there’s no chance she’s going to declare her feelings now.
Is there?
As I watch Adam and Amanda approach each other with caution, I wonder if my own happily-ever-after is hanging by a thread. Natalie could come back at any time, like my very own Ghost of Christmas Past.