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My toes tapon the concrete floor as we wait for the lift to take us up to Max’s floor. I’m wearing trainers today. I’ve worn heels every day of my life since I was about sixteen, so it does feel strange to have lost a couple of inches. But I’m comfy, and when I say trainers, I don’t mean running shoes. They’re converse. Black. The same as Max wears nearly every day of his life. But I figured them, my black jeans and this jumper which does a good job of covering my bump is the perfect outfit for drinks with Cassy and Em. I look over at Cassy. She’s wearing a tiny black dress, tight coat, and thick black tights. Her boots have more silver buckles than I’ve ever seen and her long brown locks are tied up in a type of braid which just makes her look even more insatiable. I smile, it’s weird how she’s been my confidant these last few days when things have been so up in the air and rocky between Max and— And well, everyone but especially me, I suppose.
Me and her grew close on the last Blank Space tour. Really close. Having her there was like my antidote to all the crap, all the hard work and the misery Max was going through. It’d been a tough year for them both and I’d actually advised Max not to bring his sister, I thought it’d be too much for her after what they’d lost. But she shined being there. Especially after those initial first few dates in New York she really started to glow. And I suppose if I’d have had my head screwed on properly, I should have noticed that her soft looks towards Kyle meant something more. That his overprotective stare when anybody but him or Max went anywhere near her, that his overly friendly hugging and forehead kisses meant more than what they appeared.
If you’d have asked me back then if I thought they’d fooled around together? I’d have probably said yes although they both knew it was stupid and Max would go crazy. But did I think it would have gone any further than that? God no! She whistles as she steps into the lift and I can’t help but be taken in by the smile on her face.
“Are you sure he’s not here, Cass? I don’t want to impose, to be awkward,” I say for what could potentially be the one hundredth time tonight. It’s not that I don’t want to see Max, because part of me really, really does. It’s that my heart has put its guard up so goddamn high again, and I don’t know how to take it down. My dad loved drugs more than he ever loved me. My mum, she did come to my scan, and I suppose her texts are weekly now rather than once every three or four months, so she is trying. But does she love me? Not in the way she maybe should. It’s hard to let somebody in and Max came in like a steamroller.
“I just need to get my jacket, ‘kay? Then we’ll be on the way, I promise,” Cassy assures me.
“Surely you have more than one jacket?”
“Hmm, surely I do, but I like this one best. Sooooo,” Cassy sasses back at me as the lift takes us to Max’s floor and we step out. I feel weak, my feet struggling to move as Cassy takes a key and puts it straight in the lock. As soon as the door opens, and she disappears inside I stop. Because I can smell him. Fuck, I can almost taste him.
Hair gel, aftershave, mint
Max.
I follow her inside. Look around the apartment. Hoping to see him or not I’m really not sure. I ball my fists, breathe out a long breath, close my eyes. Try and concentrate. When I open my eyes, I realise I’ve drifted to the kitchen. I can’t even see Cassy now, she’s obviously disappeared wherever it is she left her jacket. I look around the open-plan kitchen, I look to the couch over there. I would say that’s where this whole messy yet beautiful affair started but that would be a lie. It started years ago, the second I saw him with his backwards baseball cap and converse in the Grain Records office. I run a hand over my tiny little bump.
Our baby.
“You okay in there little girl?” I ask as I pat lightly. The same time I pat I feel that twinge. Urgh. The downside to being pregnant I suppose. Damn I need to pee! I walk quickly towards the bathroom. Door is locked.
“Sorry, Alison! Won’t be a second, I’ve had a wardrobe malfunction!” Cassy laughs from inside. I roll my eyes and carry on down the corridor. I didn’t want to but my bladder is not giving me a choice, I push Max’s bedroom door open, try to ignore everything that is him about the room as I make my way to his en-suite. But something catches my eye as I walk in. The room next door, the door’s pushed open, not all the way but so I can see the walls. I swear it’s a different colour to before.
I can’t let it distract me from my mission though. With long strides I take myself to the loo, fiddle with my jeans, curse myself for wearing them and then it’s that sweet, sweet libation of a wee when I sit down. It’s amazing how good that feels in my silly pregnant state. Laughing at myself I clean up and wash my hands. But my curious brain won’t sit. It won’t stay still. Those walls are definitely a different colour than they were a week or so ago when I was last here.
I shouldn’t look though. It really is none of my business, whatsoever. None. So why after leaving Max’s room are my feet leading me to that door rather than back to the kitchen to wait for Cassy. I shut my eyes just in case for some reason that makes it okay that I’m snooping, and I push the door further open and step inside.
My breath hitches, my hands go to my mouth to cover the little noises and bubbles of snot that just formed. My mascara is certainly smudged now, because,oh my god, look what he’s done—for our little girl.
He’s created this beautiful nursery. In soft, pale shades of yellow and white furniture. A beautiful cot, changing table, and all sorts of baby things everywhere. Nappies, wipes, muslin, clothes. I open one of the high-quality drawers to find it full of tiny white and yellow baby grows, bibs—everything. The tears stream down my face.
Oh Max.
He’s going to make the best daddy, literally everything in this room has been done with such love and care. Whoever he has had in to do this has done a really good job. From the colours on the wall to the flooring.
It’s perfect.
I walk over to the cot. White slats, yellow sheets, the mobile above the tiny bed so perfect it hurts. It’s Max all over. A mixture of tiny little music notes, acoustic guitars and tiny spiders. They aren’t scary looking spiders though. They’ve got big eyes, big smiling faces and they are wearing bright red converse.
“Oh, Max,” I say it out loud as I rub my little bump through my jumper. “Your daddy loves you so damn much baby girl.” I smile as I look at the shelf next to the little cot. One of the hundred Sonos speakers that Max litters his house with is up there. But this one is grey not black, tonal to the whole room so it must be new.
There’s a handwritten note next to it. Unmistakably written in Max’s own curly font. Thick black ink.
“For when Baby Baines can’t get to sleep. Just say clearly,
Go To Sleep Little Baby.”
My smile is wide, my curiosity getting the better of me as I find myself reading the words out loud.
“Go to Sleep Little Baby,” I say loudly. I hear a gentle muffling coming from the speaker and then my mouth goes dry, if I wasn’t crying already, I certainly am now. My eyes are soaking wet with tears as I hear Max’s voice accompanied by a soft acoustic guitar loop.
He’s singing‘Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.’ My heart breaks, smashes apart as his gruff voice that usually screams into the microphone sings in such a beautiful way. When he’s finished it moves on to a new song. I recognise the tune. I hear a little percussion and that soft acoustic guitar again, then Max’s voice comes shining through, like a beacon of light in the dark. Just a soft noise, not any words until he sings something about someone looking into his eyes. And her saying.
“Don’t worry, baby.”
Of course, it’s the beach boys.
