Page 32 of Secrets of Starshine
“But my hair’s still wet!” she bleats, hands flying up to her damp head in horror. I bite back a laugh, and tell her that will only take me five minutes to sort out.
I walk over to Connie, keeping my stride even and my face placid as I know Miranda is still watching me, and explain what’s happening. Connie makes an excitedooooh!noise, and gets a walkie-talkie out of her bag. Wow. They weren’t kidding – they actually do have walkie-talkies.
She presses a button, and says: “Cookie Monster to Dr Zhivago, over.”
After a few seconds, Dr Zhivago – who I presume is actually Ella – replies. Connie tells her about our situation, and Ella, in a professionally calm voice that settles us both right down, says she’s on the beach with Larry, and she’ll be there in a few minutes.
Okay. Well, if Dr Zhivago is cool with it, I suppose we all should be. I make my way back to Miranda, who is by this point squirming uncomfortably on her chair, and tell her Ella is on the way. In the meantime, I get to work on the hair – because that’s what I do best.
“This must be a first,” says Connie, lurking at our side and raising her voice over the blow-dryer, “styling a woman in labour?”
“We don’t know I’m in labour!” Miranda protests, her hands flying to her enormous belly as though surprised to find it.
“It’s not actually,” I reply as I work, “it’s happened a couple of times in my salon. Ladies who want a last-minute touch-up before the big day. One woman who, amazingly, didn’t even know she was pregnant – just thought she’d gained a load of weight! That was a fun one. I was taking her foils out as they loaded her into the ambulance.”
Both of them look astonished at this, and Miranda mumbles something about how could you fail to notice the alien being lodged in your body. I remember when I was pregnant with Sam, happy as I was about it, there was always a little part of me that was traumatised by that scene inAlienwhen the monster bursts out of John Hurt’s torso and blood and bone scatters everywhere. I decide that now isn’t the time to mention this.
“Anyway,” I say instead, “we’re almost done here. Is there anything we can get for you, Miranda? You know, just in case…”
“My bag,” she answers, looking up at Connie. “It’s in my flat, all packed up and ready to go. And…and will you tell James? If I have to go and have the baby, that is.”
She seems pretty determined to not have the baby, which I totally get – there does come a point, though, where there is only one way out of this situation.
Connie assures her that she’ll take care of everything, and dispatches the hovering teenagers to go and get the bag. Sam gives me a quick thumbs up as they leave. In the meantime, I finish off the world’s quickest blow-dry.
When I’m done, Miranda looks at herself in the mirror, and despite everything else that’s going on, I see a flicker of delight cross her face. She gently touches her hair and says: “Wow. I’m going to have the best hair on the maternity ward.”
“You definitely are, hon,” I reply, smoothing down a few loose strands.
At that point, Ella arrives, Larry in tow. He has a fine time running around and sniffing at all the multi-coloured strands of hair on the floor, stalking them like they’re prey before he attacks with a high-pitched yip.
Ella kneels down, and looks directly into Miranda’s eyes. She takes hold of one of her hands, and gently says: “Is it still happening?”
Miranda nods miserably, and now appears to be resigned to her fate – this baby is coming out, one way or another.
“Right then,” says Ella, standing up and brushing hair off her knees, “I think it’s time then, don’t you? You’re going to be fine, I promise. I’ll be with you all the way through. We’ve talked about this, and you know what to expect. It might not be easy, but you’re going to finally meet your baby at the end of it.”
My eyes fill up with unexpected tears as she says this, and a quick glance at Connie shows that she feels the same. It is sometimes a brutal experience, childbirth, but also so magical – that tiny being that you’ve been growing inside your own body for so long has, up until that point, been a mystery. You have no idea what he or she will look like, or sound like, or feel like in your arms. Then suddenly they are there – real and demanding and wondrous, a whole human life full of potential. It changes everything – the whole focus of your universe tilts, dominated by a red-faced bawling creature that somehow looks like the most beautiful thing in the universe.
I give Miranda a big hug before she leaves, pale-faced and trembling, Ella at her side.
“Well,” announces Connie once they’re gone and we start to sweep up, “that was unexpectedly emotional wasn’t it? I hope she’s okay…she doesn’t seem to have family…”
“I’d say she’s doing all right,” I reply, holding the pan while she sweeps off-cuts into it. “She’s clearly been adopted by you lot.”
“Yeah. We do have a tendency to pick up waifs and strays. Still, though…it’ll be hard, won’t it? Raising a newborn. I mean, it’s always hard, even when you’re not doing it alone.”
My mind skips back to those days – to the mess, the chaos, the sore boobs, the screaming that makes you feel utterly powerless. Above all, the absolute brain-numbing fatigue that nothing can prepare you for – no matter how many times people mention it, nothing ever seems to come close to that zombie-like state. So yes, it will be hard – but worth it.
“I don’t know how you managed with two at the same time,” I say, amazed and horrified at the very thought.
“Me neither. They used to tag team me – as soon as one settled, the other one started crying. It’s all a bit of a blur to be honest. Anyway – thanks for today. You’ve made a lot of people very happy.”
“Pleased to help,” I say, stretching out my back. “I enjoyed it. I love my job.”
“Me too – what a blessing, eh? Do you have it in you to manage a couple of home visits or are you too tired? They’ll completely understand…”
“I’ll be fine as long as you can promise me nobody will go into labour.”
