Page 67 of The Three of Us
‘Old Archie, you mean? The handyman? He only comes in twice a week, and today’s not his day.’
‘The knife then? Quick, Carly. I can’t miss this scan. I really can’t.’
‘I thought you didn’t want this baby?’
‘Well, I do, all right? I was there when it was made and I’ll be there when it’s born. I’m a dad, Carly, or I soon will be. And I need to be there. Pink or blue? It matters, Carly. It’s taken me a while to come to my senses, but it matters, okay?’
I thought it would hurt to hear him say something like that, but it doesn’t. Jack is finally facing up to his responsibilities. Good for him. And for Molly too.
It takes another five minutes, but together we do it. The door opens with a satisfying click and Jack bursts out, giving it a final frustrated kick before he runs off towards his desk. I’m not sure if I’m still needed, but I follow him anyway.
‘Oh, shit. I didn’t switch the socket on.’ He tugs the charger away from the wall. ‘My phone’s been plugged in for hours and it hasn’t charged at all. I need to ring Molly. See if it’s too late.’
‘Use the office phone.’
‘I can’t. I don’t know her number. Who remembers mobile numbers these days? It’s all saved in here.’ He holds up his dead phone and for a moment I think he’s going to chuck it in the bin or hurl it at the wall. ‘I’ll just have to get to the hospital as quickly as I can and hope she hasn’t gone in yet.’
‘Need a lift?’ I don’t know why I say that. It’s not even my car.
‘Yes!’ And then we’re running down the stairs because the lift is taking too long to come, and back out into the street, and he’s trying to climb into the back of the car. ‘There’s no room,’ he yells at Syd, who’s trying to catch up with what exactly is going on here. ‘Who has their seat that far back? Where am I supposed to put my legs?’
‘Other side, mate. Try the other side,’ Syd says. ‘Where are we going, by the way? Cos it looks like you’re coming with us, right?’
‘The maternity hospital. Quick as you can!’
Syd gestures to me to swap sides and I slide into the passenger seat, amazed at just how far my feet can stretch out, not even reaching the front of the footwell, which is just as well as I remember this is a dual-control car and I don’t want to touch a pedal I shouldn’t.
I look in the mirror. Jack is looking at his watch again. ‘It’s ten past,’ he announces. ‘I’m already too late. I just know it. I’ve blown it. I’m in the doghouse, big time.’
‘Better start practising your begging then, mate. Woof, woof! Seriously though, I’ll do my best to get you there.’ Syd’s in the driving seat now, ignition on, watching the flow of the traffic, waiting for a gap. ‘I remember that moment, seeing Rosie’s scan and finding out what our two little blobs were. One of each for us, but who knows what you’ve got brewing away in there? Can’t have you missing out on that now, can we?’ Suddenly Syd sees his chance and the car shoots off from the kerb with a loud squeal of tyres. It feels like one of those ‘Follow that car’ moments you see in the movies. ‘Lean back and hold on to your hats!’
Chapter 41
Jack
Why does it take something as stupid as a broken door to bring everything into focus? He has been feeling trapped for a while, not really knowing what he wants, where his future lies, but finding himself actually trapped, unable to get out of that room, unable to get to Molly as he’d promised he would, having no choice, that was something else entirely. He knows what he wants and it’s Molly. He can’t imagine not having her in his life, can’t imagine that little baby being brought up without him.
Jack has been too involved in work, too involved in himself, to see what really matters. He’s not some frightened teenager anymore. This is not some accidental pregnancy to run from. It’s Molly. His wife. The woman he loves. And this is their baby. Something they have made together, and will love together, see moving on the screen together, willy or not, if only he can get to the scan in time. If only she can forgive him if he can’t.
The car slips through the traffic like a knife through butter. Syd, it has to be said, is a bloody good driver. If there’s a gap, he gets through it with inches to spare. If there’s a light about to change, he manages to time getting through it perfectly. What would have taken him God knows how long on foot and by train takes Syd less than twenty minutes.
It’s half past four and the hospital entrance is in sight, but there’s a queue of cars, stuck behind an ambulance, not moving fast enough, not moving at all. Jack flings open the car door, leaps out, yells a hurried ‘Thank you’ and runs like mad.
There she is! Molly, sitting on a bench seat by the entrance, between a nurse reading a newspaper and a heavily pregnant woman in a dressing gown and slippers, puffing away on a cigarette. Their weekend case is on the ground by Molly’s feet, and that carrier thing she bought for lugging her cupcakes about. She’s holding her phone in her hand, looking at the screen, and he has an awful feeling it’s him she’s looking for on it. A call, a text, anything…
‘Mol!’ he shouts as he runs towards her, out of breath, his tie flapping around his neck.
She looks up, but her expression gives nothing away. ‘You made it then? At last.’ She puts her phone back in her handbag. ‘Where the hell were you, Jack? You know the appointment was at four, don’t you? And it’s…’ She makes a point of looking at her watch.
The nurse gets up from the seat, folds her paper and walks back into the building behind them, and Jack thumps down in her place. ‘I know, I know. I should have been here, but you’ll never believe what happened…’
‘I’m not sure I want to hear it, Jack. It’ll just be an excuse, won’t it? Something about work and how important this project is, and how you lost track of time. I’ve heard all this stuff before. But this was important too. Don’t you get that?’
‘Of course I do. And I’m sorry, Mol. So sorry. It’s not too late though, is it? Can’t we go back inside, ask to have the scan again? So I can see whatever it is that you’ve seen?’
‘It’s the NHS, Jack. Do you think they have the time or the resources to let you waltz in there and expect, or demand, that they do it all again? And why? Because you couldn’t be bothered to get there the first time?’
He feels deflated. He has no idea what to do next.