Page 93 of The Day Shelley Woodhouse Woke Up
‘Do you think you had your kitchen done like this so you basically had a bar in it?’ I ask.
She laughs. ‘Tell me everything. How’s your mum?’
So I tell her everything, or almost. How I was on my way to Mum’s rescue when I had the accident. How no one else knew that she needed help. How Mick had kept her prisoner but she’d managed to escape with a broken arm and cuts and bruises. Dee is one of the most expressive people I know and her face changes as the story goes on – worry, horror, fear. But it has a happy ending, or I hope it will. I leave it where I left Mum, after the trip to the police station.
‘Shit,’ she says. ‘Both of you, in hospital at the same time, and not knowing anything about each other. And I can’t believe you’ve known where she is all this time.’
‘I couldn’t tell anyone,’ I say.
‘Oh, I know, I get it. It’s just a lot to take in, that’s all.’
We are silent for a beat.
‘What’s going on with you? I feel like I hardly know.’
‘I’m really tired,’ she says. ‘I keep feeling like I’m going to actually fall asleep on the bar.’
‘Do you need to see a doctor about that?’ I ask.
‘No. I know what it is.’ She flashes me a grin. ‘It’s exactly like last time.’
Last time. Does she mean…? ‘Pregnant?’ I ask, barely a whisper.
‘Yep. Knocked up. Who’d have thought it?’
I take her hands and clasp them in mine and I want to tell her that I’m pregnant too so badly, but there’s someone else I have to tell first. It’s nice, too, to anticipate telling her. I know exactly how she will jump up and shriek and take me in her arms.
After we’ve talked it all through, imagined Callum with a baby brother or sister and she’s told me all about how Liam’s terrified because he says the last labour was pretty traumatic for him, I tell her there’s something I need to say too.
‘I’m going home,’ I say.
‘Really? You’re ready?’
I nod.
‘Do you think you remember everything?’
‘I think so. I still can’t believe you and Matt made up the volunteer thing.’
Dee laughs. ‘Seriously, if you could remember how angry you got when we tried to tell you he was your husband, you would get it. He didn’t want to stop seeing you altogether, so he had to make up something.’
‘God, I love him.’
‘And he loves you. What a happy coincidence.’
‘Do you know where my key is? I want to surprise him.’
Dee goes over to the kitchen drawer where they keep takeaway menus and elastic bands and stamps and Callum’s drawings. She pulls out a key attached to an Eiffel Tower keyring and throws it across to me.
‘Paris,’ I say. ‘I thought I’d never been anywhere.’
‘You guys are always going somewhere.’
Not for a while, I think. It’s going to be nappies and naptimes for the foreseeable future. Dee gives me a tight hug on the doorstep.
‘Tomorrow?’ she asks.
‘Tomorrow.’
