More pops and gurgling followed, and Rebecca stiffened slightly as the midwife pushed the device a bit harder into her belly. Suzanne tutted irritably and tried another angle.
‘Nope, nothing,’ said Suzanne, snapping the Doppler off, and standing up with a click of the knees. ‘You win some, you lose some. Me that is, you’re fine, there’s nothing to worry about. It’s normal.’
Rebecca lay there, looking up at the midwife now looming over her.
‘It would happen like that a lot wouldn’t it? Nothing there at this stage?’ Rebecca asked nervously.
‘You’d know, and I’d know if there was something up. It doesn’t mean anything at all – don’t worry about it. Unless you get some bleeding more than spotting. And that’s just what we say anyway. You knew that. Nothing’s going wrong. The scan will be brilliant. Don’t worry, watch one of those movies and forget all about it. Maybe not Alien though.’
Suzanne held a hand out to pull Rebecca up to a sitting position, where she kept numbly looking up at a mole on the midwife’s chin.
‘Right, I’d best be going. Two more to do before home time,’ Suzanne said.
‘Of course, you must be very busy,’ said Rebecca distractedly, getting to her feet.
‘Thanks for being a great appointment,’ the midwife said, flicking her hair out of the back of her coat collar. ‘I’m sorry, mad week, bit frazzled, but I’ll calm down. See you in a few weeks, and you’ve got my number if there’s anything you want to ask. It’s going to be fun. And seriously, I may joke but check out the yoga at the community centre, it’s supposed to be brilliant.’
‘Mind how you go now,’ Rebecca inexplicably said as she opened the door to let Suzanne out. The midwife gave her a big wave, jumped as the neighbour’s cat leapt from the front yard, and then again as the metal gate banged shut behind her.
Rebecca gave a cheery wave back, shut the door, and burst into tears.
‘She’s mad. It’s much too early. You haven’t even had The Quickening yet,’ said James as he sat on the arm of the couch and stroked Rebecca’s hair.
When he’d got home Rebecca had seemed fine, although the house did smell alarmingly of bleach and furniture polish. She was sitting, feet tucked up under her, on her place on the couch for watching the telly. Then he realised the television was switched off.
‘Hey darling, how’d it go?’ he’d asked softly and the tears had started again.
The Quickening – the first fluttering feeling of the presence in your womb. When they’d first read about it on a pregnancy website James had said it sounded like the name of a horror movie, and it did feel a bit like that to Rebecca, a sign that something overwhelming was about to happen. Since then whenever she had hiccupped, or her stomach had rumbled, he’d say in a hammy voiceover voice ‘Was it gas? Or was it…THE QUICKENING?!’ and walk around stiff-legged and arms out like a zombie. This time he didn’t do the all-out production, deciding it might not quite be the time, but it raised a smile.
‘Der-derr-derrrrrr,’ managed Rebecca, blowing her nose.
This is what he’d worried about. James had wanted to be there for the first appointment but had been persuaded it wasn’t too big a deal and there’d be other times they’d need to take leave for things he couldn’t miss. He hadn’t minded too much, seeing the sense in that, but did a little bit feel like this was the precursor to years of missed school concerts and sports days. And now his wife had been sitting by herself for hours on end dealing with the stupid things this moron of a midwife had done, leaving her thinking she’d had a miscarriage or something.
‘I’m sorry. I’m just overreacting. It’s not that I think there’s anything wrong with the baby,’ Rebecca said. ‘It’s just she was…I feel like I’m going to be doing this on my own and I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.’
‘I’m calling her boss now, and getting someone else to come around.’
‘Don’t. Don’t. You can’t. She’s all right, she’s just learning…’
‘I don’t want our baby used for a practice session.’
‘It’s not like that. And it’s not like I want that either. Do you think I’d let that happen?’
‘There must be a patient charter somewhere we can just quote and they’ll have to send someone more experienced. I’ll do it, you won’t have to speak to her again or anything.’
‘I said no! You’re not listening!’
‘You had such a good time you’ve been reduced to tears, is that it?’
‘Look, I’m fine.’
‘Clearly.’
Rebecca’s eyes narrowed and she started to say something but thought better of it. James put his hands behind his head and huffed slightly.
‘It just wasn’t what I expected, that’s all,’ Rebecca said, breaking the silence.
‘And I just want to make sure it goes all right for you. That you don’t get too stressed out.’
‘Yeah. Well.’
James walked across and tried to give his wife a hug, but she was too low down and ensconced in the corner of the bulky sofa. He settled for a kiss on the top of her head.
‘Let’s have a beer, eh?’ he said, massaging her shoulder gently. Her head leaned into his hand.
‘I shouldn’t, really…’
‘Even your mad midwife said it was all right. Come on, I’ve got a weekly email from Babycentre we can look at, see what that creature is up to now, whether he’s planning on keeping that tail.’
‘We need a better name than “That Creature”,’ Rebecca shouted as James headed for the fridge.
‘You’re right,’ said James, handing over a Heineken. ‘Jeff?’
‘Jeff? What if it’s a girl?’
‘It’s not their real name. I don’t think we’ll be planning on calling a boy Jeff either, it’s not going to come out aged fifty-three and ready to join your dad at the golf club.’
‘It might stick though, and we’d end up taking Jeffrina to her ballet classes. Try again.’
‘The Thing?’ he suggested, ‘Fifi Foetus?’
Rebecca rubbed her hand over her belly again while she was pondering, trying to feel a difference.
‘We could go for one of the classics and just call it the bump?’ she said. ‘Will be one soon.’
‘Who put the bump in the bump-a-lump-a-bump? It was the man with a rama-lama ding dong,’ sang James. ‘I think I could live with that.’
‘But we’d have to live with your singing. Bompalomp’s cute though…’
‘What do you think, Creature?’ asked James as he sat on the couch and rested his head in Rebeca’s lap. ‘Would you rather be Bumpalump?’
‘Bompalomp. I don’t need to be associated with being a lump, thank you.’
‘Bompalomp then. What do you think, give your tail one swish for yes, two swishes for no. I think that’s confirmed it. It’s christened.’
Rebecca smiled down at her husband with his ear pressed against her tummy, and gave his neck a pinch.
‘Spoken to your mum yet?’ he asked.
‘She called earlier. Apparently I had it easy. In her day it was creepy