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‘He’ll check it soon,’ Anna says firmly.
* * *
‘You’re already three centimetres dilated,’ the consultant informs me after she’s done a check. Matt still hasn’t rung. ‘Although we’d often try to hold off labour at this gestation, I don’t think that’s going to be possible this time.’
‘But won’t she be too small?’ My voice wavers. ‘Six weeks early…’
‘Thirty-four weeks is still a good length of time,’ the consultant reassures me as she pats my arm. ‘And your body, along with your baby, is telling you she needs to come out, so that’s what’s going to happen.’
But I’m not ready. She’s not ready. What if she’s too small? What if she can’t make it, or she has chronic health problems? And why isn’t Matt here?
‘Milly.’ Anna speaks gently, looking right into my eyes as the unspoken tension between us evaporates as if it has never been. ‘It’s going to be okay.’
‘How can you be sure?’ My voice wobbles.
‘Because of what the consultant said. Because this baby is so wanted, so cared for already. I believe it, and you need to believe it as well. That’s what Alice needs rig
ht now.’
‘Okay.’ I manage a small, trembling smile. ‘Okay, I will.’
They settle me in a room to labour in, with a midwife coming in regularly to check my blood pressure, the baby’s heartbeat.
‘This is all happening so much faster than I thought,’ I say as Anna adjusts the blinds of the window overlooking the car park. Wintry sunshine streams in, bathing the room in crystalline light. I am lying in bed, already in a hospital gown, feeling as if I am playing at a role even though I can feel my tummy tighten and release. It’s painful, but not in an unpleasant way. Not yet, at least.
‘But that’s a good thing, in a way,’ she says. ‘You were getting tired of waiting, weren’t you? Now you don’t have to.’
‘Yes, but I wouldn’t mind waiting a bit more now.’
Anna smiles and comes to sit by my bed. ‘We always want what we don’t have, I suppose.’ For a second I think about asking her about these last few months, the unspoken tension that has existed between us, but the words fall silently to the ground before I can even think what they would be – Why? I’m sorry? Are we okay now?
She pats my arm. ‘Focus on your baby now,’ she says, almost as if she could hear those silent words and knew what they would be. ‘Focus on Alice.’
Alice. In a few hours, I might be holding her. The prospect fills me with fear and joy in equal measure. My mobile rings, and I snatch it up and see with relief that it’s Matt.
‘Matt—’
‘Milly?’ His voice is a ragged cry. ‘Are you okay? The baby – our little girl—’
‘I’m at the hospital. I’m in labour. Matt, she’s coming.’
He swears, which is so unlike him. ‘I’m stuck in traffic on the M5. I don’t know how long I’ll be. Maybe an hour—’
‘Just get here as quickly as you can. Anna’s with me.’
‘Anna? Oh, that’s good. That’s good.’
I smile at her, and she smiles back. No matter what still might be unresolved between us, I’m glad she’s here. I need her more than ever.
The midwife comes in, and so I end the call with Matt, and when she checks me, she frowns, which sends me into panic mode.
‘Is everything okay?’
‘Ye-es, but baby’s heart rate is a little higher than I’d like. I think we should have it monitored.’
A few minutes later I watch the screen of a machine that flashes a graph, jagged lines jerking up and down. I am starting to get scared.
‘Try not to worry,’ the midwife says. ‘I’ll have the consultant come in to check you, in any case.’
