THURSDAY 10TH JUNE
3.07 A.M.
HANNAH
There’s a lot of noise around me. Mum’s weeping and Robert’s hugging her and squeezing my shoulder. The midwife is telling me well done and that I’m a good girl and I feel like my eyes have tripled in size from all the pushing.
There’s a scratchy kind of a wail from somewhere in the room and I reckon that’s my baby. I don’t know if it’s a boy or a girl — they showed me its bits, but I’m tired and confused and I didn’t really know what I was looking at. Someone’s giving me an injection to prompt the afterbirth, which is a thing I really do not want to see. It’s like there’s an army of people in pink scrubs — is that to disguise all the blood? There’s more blood than I thought there’d be…
My eyes sting from sweat and my arms and legs feel like the muscle’s been sucked out and replaced with jelly.
“Aaron?”
“Here.” And he is. He’s standing beside my head, his hand resting lightly on my sweaty hair. “You OK?”
“Where’s the baby?”
“They’re just grading it or something.” He points to a huddle by an incubator. “Weighing, checking, marking out of ten.”
“Is it a boy or a girl?” I whisper, not wanting everyone to know that I don’t know.
“Erm, I didn’t see and they’re not really saying much.”
“It’s OK, isn’t it?”
“Yes. Definitely OK. No one is looking worried except you. CTFO, all right?”
I grin. Aaron never uses letters when words are an option. He’s looking at me weirdly. “What?”
“Nothing.”
“Mummy, are you ready for your baby?” The midwife, who may or may not be called Nicky, is holding something in a white towel. She’s holding my baby and then she’s laying it on my chest.
OH MY GOD, THIS IS MY BABY! I HAVE A BABY. THIS IS INSANE.
I think my face is going to break in half from smiling. I don’t care that this little person is purple and funny-looking — he? she? is AMAZING.
“What are you going to call her?”
“Her” — Nicky just said “her”. I have a little girl. A LITTLE GIRL!!! I want to scream with happiness. I have a daughter. I AM A MUM.
“Hannah?”
I look up at my mum and Robert, who are peering over my shoulder at the baby resting on my chest. I can feel Aaron’s hand stroking my hair the way it has been stroking my hair for over twelve hours. I look at the baby, just for a top-up, then at Aaron and grin.
“What’s she going to be called?” he asks.
I look down at my baby and see her tiny fingers uncurling and I watch as Aaron puts his little finger in her grasp. I stroke her cheek and she turns towards the feel of it. Look at the amazing little person that I made! I think about all the trouble she caused, the heartache, the lies, the betrayal. But she didn’t cause any of that, did she? Not this little person. Her life starts with a clean slate — the way Aaron’s did.
I glance up at him and smile, then I look back at my baby. I will name her after the most important person in her life. The most important person in mine.
“Her name’s Tyler. Baby Ty.”
AARON
I stare at Hannah.
I once told Neville that I needed to do something that mattered — I guess I did.
“Here.” She lifts her baby towards me. “Cuddle your fake daughter.”
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
I never used to see the point in acknowledgments. (I know, what a douche.) Fortunately I’m a better person these days and I’ve learned that you need to tell people when they’ve been awesome, just in case they don’t realize.
Thank you to Denise Johnstone-Burt and Annalie Grainger — not only for being my favourite editors, but for being two of my favourite people. You have made Trouble the book I wanted to write. And to everyone at Walker Books, including but not limited to Daisy Jellicoe for being thorough and lovely, and Jack Noel for being visionary and creating “The Sperm One”. At S&S US, thank you to both Alexandra Cooper, who spotted this, and Christian Trimmer, who ran with it so unbelievably awesomely. A writer can never have enough editors.
The biggest of all possible gratitude to my awesome agent, Jane Finigan — for finding a title, for finding the right deal and for loving this book more than I do. And for being brilliant on email. And in person. And generally. Actually, the whole Lutyens and Rubinstein crew are pretty brilliant.
Thank you to my beta readers: first and foremost Laura Hedley for not hating it; Liz Bankes, whose reaction I read when I’m feeling blue; Conrad Mason — I pretty much owe you my firstborn for this; and Freddie Carver, who does not deserve this credit whatsoever, given that he failed to read the manuscript.
For the erstwhile BWC crew, Cat Clarke and Kate no-longer-Knighton — I miss you both. Writing chapters without the reward of a pint in the pub isn’t quite as rewarding.
A huge shout out to the book bloggers who I met online before I met in person. You are all proper champions, but I would specifically like to thank Kirsty Connor for suggesting Neville’s favourite drink and making sure I get invited to things and Liz de Jager — no longer a blogger, but for ever a friend, one who’s held my hand as we walked the path of publication together.
It makes sense to thank my family right about now. Mum — you’ve got a dedication, which makes the whole book an acknowledgement really. And Dad, who understands that being there has nothing to do with geography.
And Pragmatic Dan — thank you for all of the things, but especially the patience.
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Copyright
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or, if real, used fictitiously. All statements, activities, stunts, descriptions, information and material of any other kind contained herein are included for entertainment purposes only and should not be relied on for accuracy or replicated as they may result in injury.
First published 2014 by Walker Books Ltd
87 Vauxhall Walk, London SE11 5HJ
Text © 2014 Leonie Parish
Cover design by Walker Books Ltd
The moral rights of the author have been asserted
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, transmitted or stored in an information retrieval system in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, taping and recording, without prior written permission from the publisher.
British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data:
a catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library
ISBN 978-1-4063-5410-2 (ePub)