Placing her journal on her knees and using the campfire to see, Nell wrote.
Apartamento Maya
Calle Gravina, 9
03002 Alicante Spain
14th June 1979
Dear Mummy-to-be Wendy,
I cannot believe that you are going to have an actual baby!!
I had to read the line twice before I believed it was real but when it sunk in I felt so happy for you, I still am, grinning like an idiot.
Is Mike chuffed? You didn’t really say in the letter. At least we know he’s not past it and firing blanks.
Before I forget and start rambling, I want to remind you not to be shy. You never mention that you have any fun or visitors. Or are you saving my feelings so I won’t get jealous? I’m not, I promise, and I hope you’re not jealous of mine. Nobody is as special as you. Try to make friends at the Con Club and with the wives who come to dinner. Surely they can’t all be as ancient as Mike! I bet you’ll meet lots of other mums at the clinic – remember Beryl told us they get you to do breathing classes and teach you how to bath a doll, so I’m sure you will manage without me taking the mickey out of your HUGE belly.
I expect you to tell me what every single stage is like – I intend to experience the whole thing through you, then I’ll be an expert without actually having to do any of the gory bits. Even have it off with Mike! Kidding.
Do you realise that now you’re in the pudding club, your mum and dad know for sure you have sex, how embarrassing is that? I bet they think it’s the second Immaculate Conception rather than admit their little princess has been a naughty girl. Ignore me – you know I like to tease.
Nothing much to report from here, it’s the same old thing really. Working shifts, sunbathing, drinking too much Sangria and eating not a lot. My wages cover my rent but the boss feeds us when we are in work so I’m surviving. I have a fab tan, and wait for it... I’ve had my nose pierced. Hurt like bloody hell but I love it. I might do my belly button next but I’m a bit scared because a girl I know had it done and it went septic. I swear it was gross.
We have cockroaches in the apartments that are as big as bloody crabs. They are the most disgusting things I’ve ever seen. I hate them and they make this awful clicking noise when they come out at night so we are sleeping on the beach. We just store our stuff in the apartment and go back to get a shower and changed.
Big news from Molly – she’s going home which means I have to head off up to Andorra for the snow alone unless I can tag along with someone.
Now don’t get your hopes up but I’m thinking that if I can save up over winter, I might come back for a break when your baby is born. There’s no point in coming before Christmas as I’ll be in the way if I stay at yours, it’s family time after all, and no way am I kipping at Aunty Sue’s, but maybe after New Year. That means it’s only six months to wait – what do you think? I might be able to afford a cheap B & B or something.
I’ll post this in the morning and wait eagerly for your reply. I do miss you a lot and feel bad that I’m not there to help you – although what good I’ll be is anyone’s guess.
Right, I’ll sign off. Guitar Nigel has turned up and we are going to have a sing-song – everyone laughs at me cos I’m tone deaf. Do you remember the hymns in assembly and the time when Miss Earnshaw made me stand at the back because I put everyone off – how rude! The cheeky cow.
You take care of yourself and my godchild. I’m picking the names, by the way – hippy ones, of course. Ziggy for a boy and Rebel for a girl. Mike would love that!
Adios for now my chubby friend,
Lots of love,
Nell xxxxxx
P.S. Forgot to say congratulations on passing your test – I like that you can ferry me around everywhere when I visit. I love Minis and yours sounds cool, you trendy thing! And that’s a belting name – Wendell.
Do you remember that skipping song we used to sing in the yard? ‘I had a little bubble car number forty-eight, I took it round the corneeeeer... and forgot to pull the brake!’
I’m not going to be able to get that out of my head now or the picture of you zooming around Sheffield. I wonder if Nigel can play the tune on his guitar.
So proud of you, mate. xxx
7
Wendy wiped away the tears as she read the letter from Nell; the ache inside her was worse with each bundle of news that arrived, she missed her friend so much. She put it back in the envelope, then took it out again to reread it.
She scanned through it once more, this time slowly, pleased that Nell was planning on being here for the baby’s birth, but she also recognised how flighty Nell could be. Saying she was coming home didn’t mean she was coming home, it meant I’ll try hard to do it, but don’t be surprised if I end up in Cape Town.
Rubbing her stomach seemed to be the thing Wendy did almost constantly, although it didn’t help her moods or her discomfort. She was beyond the six months stage and had finally had to give in and buy maternity wear.
Since finding out she was pregnant, Mike hadn’t touched her in bed, or anywhere else for that matter. He said he didn’t want to harm the baby.
Does he think his dick is the size of Mount Everest? she mused. He’s bloody wrong.
With his birthday rapidly approaching, she knew she had to make the effort to go shopping. She thought she might get him a new dressing gown, and she really must remember to get a card, even if it was only to rub it in that he hadn’t got her one for her twenty-first. He’d managed to be mildly annoyed with himself for that faux pas, because his in-laws had spotted there wasn’t a card with wife on the front.
Wendy went to have a shower, and stared at herself in the mirror. Her breasts had become truly magnificent, but unfortunately were starting to rest on the lump that was her baby. No wonder Mike wanted nothing to do with her, she was huge.
A small voice inside her pointed out that she hadn’t been huge until about a month earlier, but she dismissed the thought and stepped under the shower. It seemed to take forever to get the shampoo and conditioner out of her long dark hair, and she added a trip to the hairdressers to her list of jobs.
Finally ready to drive into Sheffield city centre, she paused at the bottom of the stairs to select which coat to wear. Which coat would actually fasten was more the issue, she realised with a smile.
Mike had decided it was colder today, and had taken his heavier coat, leaving the lightweight one from the day before hanging on the coat stand. She removed her green jacket, and saw the exposed inside pocket of Mike’s coat, complete with a white envelope almost concealed by the pocket front. Almost concealed.
She carefully pulled it out, and looked at it. A birthday card, she surmised, but he had obviously opened it early, and hadn’t added it to the three or four cards on the mantelpiece waiting to be opened in two days.
Carefully noting which way round it was in the envelope, she pulled it out. A small red heart fluttered out and onto the rug. It was handmade, coloured on both sides with felt tip pen, and Wendy eased herself down to pick it up.
I love you.
She stared at the words handwritten on the heart, and retched. She turned and ran for the downstairs toilet, and stayed there until she had emptied everything from her stomach, including what she felt must be the lining.