Playing for Keeps Read online

  I inhaled some entonox at Anya’s insistence. It really was good. I was about to take another snort when the muffled sound of a mobile phone ringing stopped me.

  ‘I don’t think that’s my phone,’ I said to Anya, who was quick to grab the entonox mask from me. ‘Did you bring your phone?’

  Anya nodded as she eased herself onto the bed and lay back against the pillows, mask over her face. I searched her bag for her mobile. I looked at the screen before handing it to her. It was Henry, Anya’s ex and the baby’s father.

  ‘Do you want to take it? It’s Henry,’ I whispered, as if he could hear me before the phone was answered.

  Anya shook her head just as the phone stopped ringing.

  ‘Something I forgot to mention to you,’ she said, looking sheepish.

  ‘You’re in touch with Henry again?’

  She nodded.

  ‘So what stopped you telling me before now?’ I asked. ‘Has he changed his mind about wanting the baby?’

  ‘Something like that.’

  I sat at the edge of her bed and moved the gas mask away from her. ‘It’s only for when you’re in pain. Not when you’re trying to keep things from me.’

  Anya let me pull the gas and air mask away from her. She looked down at her puffy ankles and tried to reposition her body on the bed before looking at me, but without having anything to say.

  ‘Come on, Anya, when did you ever shy away from telling me what you were doing with your life? It is your life and if you wanted to get back with Henry, you didn’t have to lie about it.’

  ‘It’s not lying. It’s just that I vosn’t sure if he and I are going to get back together or not. He admits that he made a big mistake, letting me go. I just told him he should stop being such a big baby and man up and face his responsibilities.’

  Just then Anya was gripped by another huge contraction and rolled away from me onto her side.

  ‘Jesus, Madge,’ she grunted as the pain subsided. ‘I can’t talk about me and Henry now, I’ve got a fucking baby coming out of me. Call the nurse.’

  ‘On it.’

  I ran into the hall and found our nurse coming out of another patient’s room. As the door closed behind her I could hear the woman who was having her back rubbed by a man in black skinny jeans say: ‘Why the hell did I let you talk me into this anyway… you bastard?’ The last word was yelled at the top of her voice. I knew Anya could swear like a sailor and that her severe potty mouth was going to be a challenge for a lot of the other mums giving birth today. Especially those who thought they could deliver their baby in complete serenity. That swearing mum-to-be was no match for Anya.

  ‘Anya’s in a lot of pain,’ I said to the nurse. ‘Any sign of her OB?’

  ‘To be honest with you,’ the nurse said, ‘Anya’s scan was really good. No complications are indicated for now and Mrs Winterman is on her way from Kent. If she’s not here in time I can call the duty OB.’

  Back in Anya’s room she was getting to her feet as we arrived.

  ‘I need to pace for a bit,’ she said, screwing up her eyes. She folded forward, hands on the bed and screamed out. ‘Oh my God, Madge,’ she said. ‘That hurts like a mother f—’

  ‘Don’t say it.’ I started rubbing her back the way the husband in the other room was doing and looked anxiously at the nurse who was at the sink washing her hands.

  ‘Anya, I’ll need you back on the bed so I can take a look and see how far you’ve progressed.’

  ‘Pretty far!’ she yelled. ‘Further than I can go. Madge, please, I’ve changed my mind. I can’t go through vith this. It’s too hard.’

  For the next hour or so, I did all I could to keep Anya as calm as possible. We breathed together, I lit more aromatherapy candles. I played the soothing yoga chanting music I’d grabbed from my mother’s house on one of my rare visits. When it started playing Anya looked at me and said, ‘Just put on some Kanye and stop getting on my nerves, Madge.’

  She was a centimetre away from being able to push, her OB had put her head around the door and said she was doing great. Anya had looked at the back of Mrs Winterman’s head as she went away to put on some scrubs and said, ‘I’m going to kill that doctor after this baby comes out. She’s too smug for her own good. Do I look like I’m doing great?’

  I lit another candle and turned up Kanye West. Anya hated everyone and there was no reasoning with her. I did all I could not to rattle her. Mrs Winterman was scrubbed up and back in the room. Anya was primed with her knees bent and dropped open and it was time to push.

  Everything they say about birthing mothers and how you forget the pain of the past hours of labour was true. Just past eleven-thirty that night a tiny baby came into the world. Anya’s baby boy was born. He weighed seven pounds and six ounces and screamed at the top of his lungs just seconds after escaping the confines of Anya’s womb.

  Anya had cussed and groaned throughout the entire ordeal. She’d dug four grooves into my hand with her fingernails, she’d sucked ice chip after ice chip and declared she never wanted to hear another Kanye West song for as long as she lived. But the expression on her face when her baby was laid across her chest was priceless. From that day onward I could never see Anya as the ice-queen supermodel she was portrayed as. The softness in her eyes as she looked from me to her newborn baby needed to be captured and kept for anyone deciding whether having a baby was for them or not.

  Anya looked triumphant and so, so happy, it brought tears to my eyes. As I cleared the glassy haze I noticed how panicked the OB and attending nurse looked and how suddenly washed-out and ghostlike Anya appeared to be.

  ‘Anya?’ I took the baby from her as I noticed her arms go limp, clutching him close to me.

  ‘Here.’ The nurse wrapped a shawl around the baby. ‘You can sit with him in the other room. Anya needs some space.’

  ‘Wh… what is it? What’s happening? Anya?’ I said as the nurse ushered me away.

  Anya’s head had lolled to one side, her eyes barely open and the smile on her face disappearing. She looked as if she was about to drop off to sleep after one of our heavy whisky-drinking nights.

  A team of two surgeons and another nurse rushed in and the door to the adjoining room was closed in my face, the nurse bundling me into the room so I could no longer see what they were doing with Anya. The lights were not yet on but the nurse found the switches very quickly, turning on every one of them. I blinked rapidly. The room had an empty bed in it as well as an empty crib. I eased myself into the high-backed chair next to the bed.

  ‘Just keep baby warm and I’ll come back and let you know how she’s doing.’

  Before she could disappear I called out to the nurse. ‘Wait. Get me Anya’s bag. I need to call someone.’

  She returned with the bag but hurried out again just as fast. My knees were weak as I sat down with the baby in my arms. His eyes were squeezed shut and his tiny arms were raised. He made little fists by his temple and wriggled, poking out his tongue every now and again.

  ‘It’s all right,’ I told him. ‘Mummy will be fine. This is one of the best hospitals in the world. Okay?’

  Of course I was trying to reassure myself not the baby. What did he know? He seemed content just to wriggle in my arms, oblivious to the voices next door. I heard someone calling Anya, Anya, Anya and I hoped to God they were getting a response. The day I’d accompanied Anya to the hospital for her first scan she had told me she feared something would happen, that one of them might not pull through. I’d felt cross at her for entertaining such a thought. As I looked down at the sleeping baby, my emotions flying all over the place, I quickly went from cross to scared. Petrified actually. How could I lose my best friend? Here? Now? I was holding her newborn baby in my arms, for goodness’ sake. The baby she’d made me swear I’d take care of if anything should happen to her.

  I would keep the promise, of course I would, but there was no way I was going to give up hope of Anya pulling through.

  Still holding th
e baby, who stretched his mouth into a silent yawn, I reached into Anya’s bag and dug out her mobile. I scrolled to the H’s to find Henry’s number and pressed Call. He answered almost immediately.

  ‘At last,’ he said. ‘I was going to give up on you tonight. But then I remembered it was Magenta’s party.’

  ‘This is Magenta.’ My voice was gentle so as not to wake the baby.

  ‘Oh, hello, Magenta. Did she leave her phone behind, only I wasn’t getting any joy from the landline either.’

  ‘Yes, I know. Anya’s not home.’

  ‘Don’t tell me, you guys are still carousing. By the way, congratulations, Magenta. Good night was it?’

  ‘A magical night, Henry. Right now I’m wishing you’d been here.’

  ‘That good?’ He gave a full laugh and I imagined the lines at the side of his eyes creasing deeply and him running a hand over his salt and pepper hair. The baby gurgled but I doubt he heard.

  ‘Some of it was good, Henry,’ I cut in. ‘But not all of it. It’s about Anya.’

  ‘Magenta?’ His voice changed. I sensed the shift in his body language despite the miles separating us.

  ‘Hear me out,’ I said. ‘Anya had the baby.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Yes, your baby boy was born about ten minutes ago.’

  ‘We had a boy?’

  ‘Didn’t she tell you it was going to be a boy?’

  ‘You know what a big tease Anya can be. But why are you calling me and not her?’

  ‘I’m… I… that’s the thing. Baby is doing great but something happened to Anya and they put me and him in another room. She just seemed to fade or something. I don’t know. I… I’m just really scared and I think you should come.’

  ‘Jesus Christ. I’m not in London, Magenta. But I’ll get someone to drive me in. I’ll be there as soon as I can. Tell her that.’

  I wasn’t lying. I was scared. I was filled with dread about what was going on in the next room and at the same time hopeful they would make Anya all good again. I sent out prayers to invisible gods and goddesses, to the god my Nana Clementine, a devout Catholic, had staunchly believed in and whom I was only borderline convinced could really help in matters such as these. But as I paced around the room, far too stark with all the lights on overhead, rocking Anya’s baby, I think I believed in everything that would make her well again.

  Chapter 17

  ‘Magenta?’

  I whipped my head round and saw Henry running along the corridor towards me. He stopped dead in front of me and held my shoulders. The moment I looked into his eyes I burst into tears. He pulled me to him and leaned my head against his chest.

  ‘Tell me,’ he said.

  I looked up at him, stepping back with my hands up.

  ‘No, wait,’ I said quickly, wiping the tears away. ‘These are happy tears. I’m just so relieved you’re here. Anya’s fine. She’s asleep in her room. Baby too. I’ll show you.’

  Henry’s shoulders, which had been hunched around his ears the whole time, sank in relief. I took his hand and led him to Anya’s room. She and the baby were as I’d left them not more than five minutes ago, both sound asleep.

  ‘Did they say anything? The doctors?’ Henry asked as he pushed by me to lean over the bed. He kissed Anya’s cheek and then peered into the crib where his son slept peacefully. ‘My first boy,’ he breathed.

  ‘And so beautiful,’ I said, folding my arms as I looked in on him again.

  ‘What happened to Anya? What went wrong?’ Henry’s was an urgent whisper because he didn’t want to wake them.

  ‘She lost a lot of blood straight after the delivery. The whole thing about the amniotic fluid turned out to be totally fine.’ He looked at me as if I was talking a foreign language. Clearly Anya hadn’t kept him completely in the loop. I continued, ‘It was touch and go for a while there but they managed to get her back to normal. She’s had a blood transfusion plus a few stitches. But, as you can see, she’s completely exhausted now.’

  ‘I’m not surprised. She’ll sleep a good while I’d imagine.’ Henry kissed Anya’s forehead. ‘She’s spark out, the poor thing. What an ordeal it must have been for her.’

  If only he knew. I let out a yawn. I either needed some coffee or to curl up next to Anya.

  ‘Thank you for being here, Magenta. And you missed the big celebrity night because of this fella. I’m sorry about that.’

  ‘Don’t be. I wouldn’t have missed this for the world.’

  ‘But the shop.’

  ‘We’ll be open for business tomorrow and I’m pretty sure they coped without me tonight. Well, at least I hope they did. I didn’t manage to call Jaime or Riley because of how late it got. By the time I even remembered there was a party it was gone midnight. I assumed they’d all have gone home. I’ll pop into the shop tomorrow, first thing.’

  Henry had already turned his back on me and was leaning close to Anya, shaking his head and closing his eyes.

  ‘I don’t know what I would have done if anything…’ he said under his breath.

  ‘So you and Anya are back together then?’ I fiddled with the door handle. He probably wanted to be alone with her but I wanted to know what was happening with them.

  ‘That’s what I’m hoping is the case.’ He turned to me. ‘I’m waiting for her to forgive me for not being able to face up to my responsibilities.’ He stood and came to the door with me and then out into the corridor. ‘What do you think she’ll want to do – about us, I mean?’

  ‘That’s not for me to say, Henry.’

  ‘I wasn’t here for her at the most important period of her life. I could thump myself. I wouldn’t be surprised if she tells me to sling my hook again.’

  There was a lot I could have said on the subject. While it was true Anya had wanted a termination when she’d first discovered she was pregnant, claiming she couldn’t imagine herself as a mother, she did have a change of heart. She’d decided to keep the baby and kicked Henry out when he insisted he wasn’t up for changing nappies and sleepless nights again. He hadn’t exactly put up a fight or come round to her way of thinking, he just left. All the while, I was the one who’d been there for Anya, though she’d probably wake the following morning and start playing happy families with Henry. But who was I to stand in the way of true love? They obviously loved each other and in their way I was pretty sure they’d make things work.

  ‘Look,’ he said. ‘You probably hate me because of how things turned out between us. Sometimes she… it can be hard to always get it right. But I never stopped loving her.’

  ‘I can see that. Now you’ve got a seven-pound-six-ounce reason to make another go of it, haven’t you? ‘Night, Henry. If she wakes up tonight, tell Anya I’ll be back in the morning.’

  ‘Thanks, Magenta. Goodnight,’ Henry said over his shoulder.

  I walked the quiet corridors back to the exit, trying not to get lost in a hospital in the dead of night. There was something creepy about being there on my own, hearing my heels echo around me.

  As I rounded the corner for the exit I saw the sign pointing the way to the Oncology unit and I shuddered at the thought of really having to lose someone within these walls… and soon.

  It was cold when I got outside. I’d left my coat at the shop when I rushed to Anya’s aid and my bare arms were goose pimply. My teeth began to chatter. I rubbed my arms and wondered what on earth I would do in the early hours of the morning with no coat. A car pulled up outside the hospital a little distance away from the main door. Damn, I thought, that might be a minicab. I needed to find one of those to get myself home. Maybe a black cab would drive past the main road soon. I hoped so because I was freezing. The car drove off and I stood for a few seconds contemplating what to do. Call an Uber or take my chances with a passing cab.

  Out of the shadows a familiar figure made its way towards me. It was the passenger of the minicab which had just taken off at full speed. Anthony. It was him. He had a wide smile across a super-suntan
ned face. His teeth shone white in the night.

  ‘Anthony! You’re here.’ I fell into his arms and didn’t want him to stop holding me.

  ‘I wanted to surprise you,’ he said as he held me to him. ‘I knew at the last minute I was going to make it to the party, albeit a little late because I couldn’t get an earlier flight but… here I am.’

  I looked up at him.

  ‘God, I missed you,’ I said before tipping up onto my toes and kissing Anthony deeply, on the lips.

  ‘You’re freezing. Here, take this.’ He slipped off his jacket and put it on me, pulling the collar tight. ‘I missed you too. When I got to the shop and they told me about Anya I decided to wait at home for you. I told them not to tell you I was back so I could surprise you when you got in. I grabbed a bottle of champagne from the party and went home to wait. Thought we could do a bit of celebrating together, about the shop and Anya. But then it got later and later and something told me to jump in a cab and just come. So I did.’

  My cheeks were beginning to hurt from all the smiling I was doing.

  ‘I’m so glad you came.’

  ‘And Anya? The baby?’

  ‘Let’s go home and I’ll tell you all about it.’

  I woke with a feeling of calm the next morning. I was naked, on the floor in the living room, the throw from the armchair and Anthony’s arms and legs wrapped around me. I had one and a half bleary eyes open as I looked across the carpet and saw the overturned but empty bottle of champagne. Up on the coffee table were two glasses plus an empty bottle of white wine. Anthony and I had celebrated all right. We’d talked and we’d made love nonstop. Anthony talked about Italy, his plans for his next art project, more about Italy. I talked about the shop, Anya and Henry, the baby. We became so drunk it was obvious we were just talking over each other in the end and nothing was really sinking in. This was evident when I couldn’t remember anything about the night before except for the sex.

  ‘Where you going?’ Anthony’s voice was gruff and his eyes were still closed. I’d woken him while I was stretching and looking around at the state of the living room. An orgy for two by the looks of it. All that time apart and the months before that of having very little action in the bedroom, add in some champagne, and the rest was history. I turned back to look at Anthony’s stubbly face, his eyes still unable to open, and settled back into his arms. I wasn’t going anywhere. I couldn’t have moved a muscle if I’d wanted to.