‘But that could be something you’ve done and then forgotten, you know, pregnancy amnesia, that kind of thing. I left my purse on my pillow a couple of days ago, then went out to buy milk.’
‘I thought that too,’ said Helen, ‘right up until the dead flower. That was yesterday. It was a red rose. May, you either have roses in your home or you don’t, and I didn’t, there was nowhere it could have come from.’
‘How could he get in?’ May asked. ‘And are you sure, about the rose, that you hadn’t had some and forgotten to throw them away or something?’
‘I didn’t have a rose in the place, I’m sure of it. And I’ve been thinking about how he could have got in, when he’d given me back his key. In fact I’ve been thinking about little else. I’ve got a vague memory of getting a new one cut for him, months ago when I was first pregnant. He’d lost his. Now I’m thinking, either that was a big fat lie and he never really lost it, or maybe he’s found it again. Either way, it doesn’t really matter, I’m in trouble.’
‘Oh Helen, that’s terrible, I’m so sorry. You could come to mine, only…’
‘Hey,’ said Helen, ‘that’s fine, I didn’t mean that, I hadn’t even thought of it. You’re living in a shared house with a baby due any day, I didn’t mean that. I could still be wrong, anyway.’
‘Where will you go, if he turns up again?’
‘I’ll go to that hostel for battered wives, the one in the town centre. I went there the other day and spoke to someone. I’ll be fine, don’t worry. Let’s talk about something else, this is creeping me out. What’s new for you?’
‘Ha,’ said May, ‘there’s only one story in my particular town.’
‘Let me guess, does it begin with Welsh and end with Board?’
May laughed despite her anxiety.
‘How do you do that?’ she said. ‘How do you make me laugh even when I’m worried? It’s a gift. You should market it.’
‘I could be a comedian,’ Helen said. ‘Can women be comedians?’
‘They bloody well ought to be. OK, I’ll tell you what happened, at the risk of ruining the moment. The police called round last week, and apparently it’s a crime, writing a cheque when you know you have no money in the bank. It’s called, obtaining pecuniary advantage by deceptive means.’
May shuddered as she remembered it. There had been two policemen, just like in the movies, and they both seemed impossibly huge. One of them had been kinder than the other. He seemed embarrassed that they had to go through the whole sorry process, charging her, arranging an appointment for her to come to the station, all that. The other one seemed to revel in it.
‘Have you got a husband?’ he asked. ‘Only if my missus was out running up bills she couldn’t pay when she was up the duff I’d have something to say.’
He’s out, May had thought. He’s out like he always is when I need him, and what’s more I’m glad he’s out because I couldn’t cope with him being here. They didn’t stay long, the policemen, just long enough to make May feel as though the whole house had been contaminated.
‘I guess that little one in there,’ the smug policeman said, pointing to May’s stomach, ‘that little sprog will put an end to your shenanigans. Either that or you’ll train him to pick pockets.’
They both found this hilarious, but May felt angry enough to break walls with her bare hands. She wished that she could explain to Helen how odd her life had become.
‘But the Welsh Film Board,’ Helen said. ‘Did you show them the letter that said they would reimburse you if you stayed in any hotel in Bangor? Surely that changes things?’
‘I’m afraid not. I can’t find it. I’ve looked everywhere. I was sure I put it in my tray on my dressing table. I’m quite organised about stuff like that, you have to be if you live in a shared house. Alain says I probably threw it away, you know, in a forgetful pregnancy moment, but I didn’t, I’m sure of it.’
‘I believe you,’ said Helen. ‘So what happened next?’
‘Well I told them about the letter, obviously I did, but they just laughed and said a crime was a crime was a crime and that I had to have an official caution. Helen, it was terrible, I had to go to the police station for it and everyone was looking at me.’
‘Did you go on your own?’
May nodded.
‘You’re bonkers, I would have come with you. And Alain, why wasn’t he there?’
May flushed. ‘He really doesn’t cope well with the police,’ she said. ‘Honestly, I can see the way you’re looking at me but it’s true, he’s quite sensitive.’
Helen snorted. ‘And you?’ she said. ‘Aren’t you a bit sensitive too? Did you even tell him, May?’
May hadn’t told him, but she could see now how stupid that seemed.
‘I’m going to,’ she said, ‘I’m definitely going to but I’ve got to wait for the right moment.’
My life has turned into a series of ‘waiting for the right moments’, she thought.
‘Alain is quite, erm, stressed at the moment. He’s finding it hard, all this waiting for the baby and not having a job that he thought he had and all that.’
May had thought that Helen might dismiss her worries but she seemed to understand straight away. She looked at May, really looked at her, and May squirmed, unable to meet Helen’s eyes.
‘Hey, it’s not your fault. I know what you’re going through, honestly.’
But mine isn’t a complete baddy like yours, May thought. Mine can knit, mine can sing, mine can talk about poetry.
‘I’m not saying Alain is as bad as Frank, not at all,’ Helen said, as if she could read May’s thoughts, ‘but I can see that you’re not at ease, May, that’s the thing. You’re not comfortable, or relaxed, and I’m still old-fashioned enough to think that those are things women ought to be, when they’re, what’s the common term for our condition?’
‘Up the duff,’ May said, thinking of the policeman, and the speckles of white foam at the corners of his mouth.
‘Let’s drink to that,’ Helen said and they clinked their teacups.
May wanted to change tack, talk about Helen’s problems. She felt that she had monopolised the conversation and she wanted to make absolutely sure that her friend was safe, but a sudden fierce cramping pain made her unable to think about anything else. This can’t be it, May thought, not here in Binns cafe with my friend. It felt like a stomach cramp, as though she had eaten something bad.
‘Helen,’ she said, ‘I think there’s something wrong. My stomach. It really hurts.’
Helen put her hand on May’s.
‘Do you think you might be having a baby?’ she asked, and as May looked up she saw the twinkle in her friend’s eye.
No, May thought, no, this isn’t how I planned it. I’ve got no idea where Alain is.
‘I can’t start without Alain,’ she said.
Helen laughed. ‘Did anyone ever explain to you that giving birth is not like having a meal in a restaurant? You can’t book it for a convenient time. Hang on here and I’ll go to the phone box across the road in the station and ring the hospital, nothing will happen for a while, trust me, I’ve read every book there is. I’ll come with you, if you’d like.’
May thought that she would like that very much. It would have been lovely to have Helen by her side, gentle and encouraging. Another pain bit into her and May wondered what on earth she was