are sealed. This is just for fun. We either go in there both pregnant or have the room thinking we’re a couple.’
‘Are you still okay with us doing this?’ Rebekah smoothed her hand over her bump, like it belonged there, which really it did.
‘What? The class? Of course. I know I said I wasn’t bothered but, to be honest, it’s been so long I could do with the refresher.’
‘Not tonight. I mean with my being there when it happens.’
‘God. Yes. Totally. I would not want it any other way.’ Even if it did mean her sister-in-law seeing her lady bits. ‘You don’t mind David having to wait outside, do you?’ It was a bit last-century making the father stay in the waiting room, but her sister-in-law catching a glimpse of her fangina was one thing – her twin brother, that was NEVER going to happen.
So here they were. In this it’s totes okay, but not okay situation. In this awkward harmony of being the mother and the womb. With each of them trying to get to grips with the roles they would play.
***
In the lift, it was a cramped bundle of blossoming bellies and polite smiles. Every person in the elevator part of a couple clearly heading to the same class.
‘How many weeks are you?’ one lady asked another as they rose level by level.
‘Thirty-seven weeks so full-term now. How about you?’
Dawn zoned out from the small talk. She wasn’t here in an attempt to find out about surviving motherhood or indeed find friends to survive motherhood with. She was here to support Rebekah. The time of the classes meant David wasn’t home from work early enough to join them and the new parent in Rebekah needed the advice these sessions would provide.
The question had reached Rebekah. ‘I’m thirty-six weeks,’ she said. ‘And this is my sister-in-law. We’re due the same week.’
‘Oh, how lovely,’ one of the women said. ‘Cousins who’ll grow up together. They’ll be like twins. That’ll be super. Is this your first?’
Dawn kept quiet and allowed Rebekah to join in the chat. It wasn’t her baby. It was her belly that was empty, not Rebekah’s. When the doors pinged open at their destined floor, she breathed a sigh of relief. The lift was getting claustrophobic with all the questions.
As they collectively followed pieces of paper printed with arrows directing them towards the antenatal class, Dawn attempted to lag behind, away from the chatter.
‘I thought it was you.’ A woman appeared beside her.
Dawn looked up for the first time. She was the polar opposite of Dawn. Bleached blonde hair cropped short, immaculate make-up, a maternity wardrobe that was probably by Prada, and a bump so perfectly round it looked more fake than Rebekah’s foam one. There was something familiar about her that she wasn’t able to put a finger on without staring for longer than necessary.
‘It’s Caitlin. We were in college together. Do you remember?’
How could she forget? A cold shiver ran through her as she was taken back to a time she’d spent a decade trying to block out. ‘Wow. It’s the hair. You look so different. I didn’t realise it was you.’ This wasn’t the Caitlin Dawn had known. The Caitlin she knew was mousy brown, chubby in the cheeks and prone to spats of acne on her chin. This Caitlin was a different breed to the one she’d left behind at college. The one she didn’t really want to be reacquainted with. Especially here of all places.
‘College was a long time ago. A lot has changed, although you still look like the Dawn I remember. I knew it was you immediately.’
Dawn wasn’t sure if this was a compliment about keeping her youthful looks or an insult about not changing. Admittedly, her long black hair was always going to make her seem like a goth-loving student. It was pretty clear that, of the two of them, Caitlin was the one who’d blossomed from duckling to swan, whereas Dawn’s sneakers were probably the same ones she’d had in their college days. And what was wrong with that? Vintage was hip. At least it was for a single mother trying to make her way in life.
‘So is this your first?’
It was an innocent enough question. Only an extension of the conversation that had taken place in the lift, but it was more than Dawn was willing to share, taking her back to being seventeen. All the whispers as if they thought she wouldn’t hear, and that was the lecturers mostly. This wasn’t the time or place to confirm those rumours about her leaving college because she was pregnant were true. ‘I’m sorry. I really need to catch up with Rebekah. It was nice seeing you again.’
In a hurry, Dawn caught up with the group who were going single-file into the bare NHS teaching room furnished with only a semi-circle of chairs. Everyone here had that nervous look of not knowing what the future held. She could tell them. It entailed losing rational thoughts in the middle of the night because all you need is goddamn sleep. There would be overwhelming moments when all they knew was love for their child and it only mattered that they were going to be all right. There would be times when they were stripped of every inch of their dignity to the point they would no longer care about the waxing session they didn’t get to. None of those emotions could be explained on an NHS-issued piece of A4 paper. No amount of pep talk could prepare them for what it would really be like. Especially if you ended up having to do it alone.
‘Hi,’ Dawn said, as she caught up with Rebekah and linked arms with her, feeling the need for an anchor. She wasn’t here to make friends, especially not ones she’d said goodbye to in another lifetime. A lot had changed in the time since they were at college, even if Dawn did look the same.
When she nestled in the chair next to Rebekah, Junior decided to start doing a shuffle in her abdomen. They’d – that is, David and Rebekah – decided not to find out the sex of the baby but, secretly, Dawn was pretty sure it was a boy. The pregnancy was going with a similar smoothness to the one she’d had with Archie and she was pretty sure at the last scan she’d spotted a wee willy winky on the screen. Not that she was any kind of expert. It could have been the umbilical cord for all she knew, but there was just that feeling. That sixth sense only a mother would identify with. One that she wanted to share with Rebekah, but she knew David wanted to keep things neutral.
As she stroked her hand over her abdomen, Dawn recognised her brother’s concerns were down to fear. The not wanting to believe it would happen until the baby was here. With Rebekah having suffered so many miscarriages, she understood that reluctance to believe until the baby was real enough to hold. So if he wasn’t prepared to bond until Junior arrived, it wouldn’t hurt if Dawn made up for it by savouring this connection while it lasted.
‘Are you okay?’ Rebekah asked.
Dawn was a thousand miles away. ‘Yes, just wriggler here won’t keep still.’ Plus, an old college friend reminding her that her past wasn’t so far behind her with having never moved out of Owerdale, this part of the New Forest being too scenic for anyone to want to leave, including her. Hopefully, after tonight their paths wouldn’t cross again for another decade.
‘Everyone seems really nice.’ Rebekah smiled, a rosiness to her cheeks giving a glow of pregnancy so convincing it would only be Dawn who knew the truth. It suited her. There was an excitement in Rebekah’s expression she’d not witnessed before. They were on the home straight. She was starting to believe this was really going to happen.
‘Make sure you get their phone numbers. You want to be able to connect with them after this course has finished and everyone has popped their buns out. It’s helpful to have friends in the same situation.’ It wasn’t easy to forget how isolating motherhood was in those early days. When getting out the flat was such a trial it was sometimes easier not to bother.
‘Hi, everyone. My name’s Brian and I’ll be taking today’s class on the bit you’re all worrying about: labour.’
Well, for anyone who wasn’t worried, they would be now. Thanks, Brian. Dawn was trying not to think about that part. It signified the end and yet the beginning.