will,’ she said.
Saying a final goodnight, I came out and closed her door. It felt a bit strange having an adult in the room instead of a child or teenager. Paula was on her way to the bathroom to shower and I said I’d come up later to say goodnight. Downstairs, Lucy was still in the living room with the television on low and texting. I sat beside her on the sofa.
‘How are you getting on with Faye?’ I asked.
‘She’s really sweet,’ Lucy said. ‘And very kind. I like her. I told her about when I was a child – you know, when I didn’t have a proper home – and she was really kind and sympathetic. But, Mum, does she know she’s pregnant?’ Lucy stopped texting and looked at me.
‘I’m not sure. Why do you ask?’
‘Well, she said how slim I was and I told her she would be slim again once she’d had the baby. She went quiet and then said I mustn’t say that, and that she was fat. I tried to tell her it was the baby, but she said no and changed the subject, so I didn’t say any more.’
‘Thanks for telling me. I’m going to speak to her social worker tomorrow and try to find out how much Faye understands, so we can help her.’
‘She’s nice, though, really nice. Such a pity she can’t keep the baby.’
‘Yes, it is,’ I agreed thoughtfully.
Adrian arrived home half an hour later, having had a good day out at a leisure park with Kirsty. We chatted for a while and then he went to bed, as he had to be up at six in the morning for an early shift at the supermarket. Lucy went up too and I followed at around 10.30. I never sleep well when there is someone new in the house; I’m half listening out in case they wake. I heard Faye get up at around 2.00 a.m. to go to the toilet and when she’d finished I went round the landing to make sure she was all right. She was, and I didn’t hear her again until after 8.00 a.m. when I was up and dressed and Adrian had left for work. He’d meet her that evening.
Faye appeared in the kitchen in her pyjamas and dressing gown and asked if she could make herself a cup of tea. I said of course she could and showed her where the tea, mugs and milk were. She said that at home she always made tea for herself and her grandparents while in her dressing gown, and they drank it in their bedrooms while they dressed. After that they had breakfast together – cereal and toast – at around ten o’clock.
‘I help Gran and Grandpa get dressed,’ Faye told me. ‘Grandpa needs help putting on his vest and doing up the buttons on his shirt. So he sits on the bed and I help him, then I put his socks on for him. Gran needs help with her bra and her socks.’
‘That’s kind of you, love,’ I said. ‘Who is helping them while you are not there, do you know?’
‘Our neighbour is going in.’
‘That’s good.’
It was important for Faye to feel at home and to maintain her independence, so I left her to make her tea in her own time. She offered to make me tea too, but I thanked her and said I’d already had a coffee. In keeping with her usual routine, Faye took her mug up to her bedroom and drank it while she dressed. Lucy was up and dressed, and left for work at 8.30, just as Paula was surfacing. She had to enrol at college today but not until eleven o’clock. Unsure of what she wanted to do, she’d opted for a business studies course at a local college, which would give her a good grounding for many careers.
Because Faye didn’t have to help her grandparents this morning, she was ready earlier than usual and came downstairs well before ten o’clock. This threw her and she was undecided if she should have breakfast now or wait until ten.
‘Are you hungry?’ I asked her. She nodded. ‘So have your breakfast now then. It’s important you eat and drink regularly.’ I was going to add ‘for you and your baby’, but stopped. I’d wait until I’d spoken to Becky before I talked to Faye again about her baby. She poured herself some cereal – cornflakes – while I made some toast. Paula joined us with her breakfast, and at 9.30 I left them at the table while I went into the living room to telephone Becky. I wanted to catch her before we went shopping.
She was at her desk, and when she heard my voice she was immediately concerned. ‘Is everything all right?’ she asked. A carer phoning the social worker first thing on a Monday morning usually meant they’d had a difficult weekend.
‘We’re all fine,’ I quickly reassured her. ‘I collected Faye as arranged yesterday and she is settling in. But I need to ask you something.’
‘Sure. Go ahead. I’m hoping to visit you both later in the week.’
I could hear Paula and Faye talking at the table. The doors were slightly open, so I kept my voice low.
‘You know you said that Faye appears to be coping well with the pregnancy and isn’t distressed at the thought of giving up her baby?’
‘Well, yes. It’s hardly mentioned.’
‘Is it possible she doesn’t really understand that she is having a baby, or is in denial?’
Becky paused. ‘I don’t know. It’s possible, I suppose, although I spoke to her at length when we first found out she was pregnant. What makes you ask?’
‘She completely ignores all aspects of her pregnancy, and yesterday afternoon I went through her maternity folder with her, but she told me not to talk about it. There’s no mention of a birthing partner. Will it be Wilma? Then later she told my daughter Lucy that she was getting fat. When Lucy said it was because she was expecting a baby she became withdrawn and changed the subject. We’re going shopping today for maternity clothes, but she’s calling them holiday clothes.’
‘Stan put that idea in her head,’ Becky said.
‘Yes, I know. But Faye acts as though she isn’t pregnant. She hasn’t mentioned it and won’t talk about it. I think it’ll make her upset if I push it.’
There was another silence. ‘Let me have a chat with her and we’ll take it from there. Are you in on Friday afternoon, around two o’clock?’
‘Yes. Faye has an antenatal appointment in the morning, but we’ll be here in the afternoon.’
‘Good. I’ll come to see you both then. We’ll have a good chat with her. Apart from that, she’s all right?’
‘Yes, she’s delightful.’
‘And, Cathy, on the matter of a birthing partner, Wilma’s already said she’s not up to it, so I was hoping you’d do it.’
Chapter Five
Well, that was a shock. I was going to be Faye’s birthing partner. A first for me. Visions of passing Faye the gas and air, holding her hand, dabbing her brow with a cool towel and encouraging her to push when necessary as I’d seen on television ran through my head. Of course I’d do it, if that’s what Faye and the adults responsible for her wanted, although I wondered how I would cope when I saw that beautiful baby and then had to stand by helplessly as it was taken away, never to be seen by Faye or me again. Was that how it happened when a newborn went straight into foster care? Or would Faye (and I) have the opportunity to hold her baby? I didn’t know and I wasn’t sure which was worse. But I would find out so that I could prepare us both. If I was prepared then perhaps there’d be less chance of me breaking down and I’d be better able to support Faye. I’d ask Becky when I saw her on Friday, although there was a great temptation to ignore it all, just as Faye was doing.
After Paula had left to enrol at college, Faye and I left for the shopping mall in town. Snuggles stayed on her bed and Faye told me that her gran didn’t allow him to go shopping in case he got lost. I parked in the multi-storey car park and we took the elevator down to the shops. Faye was excited to be going shopping for new clothes, but I wondered what