Page 17 of #MeToo
Stan thought Billie sounded anxious.
‘Yeah, of course, I promise. But why the big mystery, and what are the photos of?’ Stan knew better than to suggest they were naked ones of Billie: that wasn’t her thing at all.
‘Just wait and see. I took them when I was in Greece and once you’ve read the letter you’ll understand.’
‘You’re not giving me the push again are you? Not that we are, you know, together or anything but you’ve only just got back and made friends so it sounds like a Dear John letter is heading my way with some “remember me” photos inside.’
When Billie spoke Stan could tell by her tone she was serious and most of all, sincere.
‘I promise you it’s not a Dear John letter. I just want to explain a few things about how I was feeling when I left and stuff that went on when I was in Votsi. It’ll save time at visiting, you know, going through the ins and outs of my life while the people on the next table earwig, so I put everything I needed to tell you on paper. Just like you did when you wrote to me. The photos are to help make sense of the things I describe… so just behave and keep your promise, and then ring me once you’ve read it. I’ll be waiting.’
Stan let out a silent sigh. Billie’s comments had set him at ease although he was still curious. ‘Okay, as long as you don’t tell me you had it off with some Greek millionaire with a yacht.’
He heard Billie tut loudly. ‘What on earth are you going on about? I don’t know any millionaires with a yacht. Not even a rowing boat, so quit the questions and be patient.’
‘Yes, boss, I will, boss. Whatever you say, boss.’ Stan was smiling and he imagined she was too.
Billie sighed. ‘Right, I’d better go. Mothership is waiting to serve tea and she’s had a right face on her since I got in. Don’t forget to ring me – and send me a visiting order for early next week if you can.’
‘Will do and, Billie, thanks for everything, you know, going to see Mum. I feel better knowing you’ve been and she’s cheered up. Say hello to your mum and dad for me, or not. Don’t want our Claud projectile vomiting all over her tea.’ Stan always used to joke that when she was annoyed, he expected Claudia’s head to spin round like inThe Exorcistand he knew from Billie’s reaction she remembered.
‘It’s okay, I’ve got my crucifix ready, just in case. See ya, Stan, please take care and I’ll speak to you soon. Bye for now.’
‘Bye Billie, see you soon.’ Feeling that choking sensation in his throat and the threat of tears, Stan was almost relived that the call was over and that unmistakeable disconnect sound was ringing in his ears.
* * *
Billie had been right about the delay and two days later, Stan finally had mail. Glad to have the cell to himself while Doog mopped the corridors, Stan lay back on the pillow, unfolded the sheets and began to read.
Dear Stan,
I have thought about what I’m going to tell you in this letter a thousand times, maybe more, and now the time has come to actually write the words, it seems the only way to explain what happened is to come right out and say it, so here goes.
When I left Manchester and you, I had no idea that I was pregnant and eight months later, a lot earlier than expected, I had a baby girl: our daughter. I named her Iris and she was born on the 20thof November, the most beautiful, adorable little girl in the world. Her name means colours of the rainbow and that’s what the tattoo means on my arm. I know you will be in complete and utter shock right now so take deep breaths and read the rest of my letter. I hope it will explain everything. By the way, I am writing this in the dining room at your mum’s. I brought Iris to meet her gran and uncle today and they are both so happy and love her already. I’ve been through the whole sequence of events with them and they understand, so now all I have to dois tell you and hope that by the end you feel the same.
You can open the other envelope now and look at our perfect baby girl.
Stan’s right hand was covering his mouth, holding in his utter shock and disbelief while his eyes were pumping out tears that prevented him reading any more of Billie’s letter. Pushing himself upright, he wiped his face and with trembling hands, slid the photos out of the smaller envelope. When he saw the face of his daughter, Stan gasped and touched the photo of Iris, imagining the feel of wispy blonde hair that just about reached her ears. She had soulful brown eyes, not as dark as his own.Maybe somewhere in between mine and Billie’s,he decided. She was grinning into the camera, two tiny bottom teeth popping through her gums.
Sucking in air, Stan moved on to the photo underneath and here she looked slightly younger. She had less hair, and was wearing an all-in-one, pale lemon with rabbits. Quickly, Stan flicked through each one and he was right, they were going backwards in time and the final one was of an incubator and inside, a tiny scrap of pink in a nappy that looked far too big. There were wires and tubes everywhere, linking Iris up to a machine that, from the looks of things, kept her alive.
The next set was wrapped in a sheet of paper and on the front it said, ‘Me and the Bump’. There were five images showing different stages of Billie’s pregnancy and the final one of mother and daughter, presumably the first time they were properly united. Billie looked so frail and tired, thinner than he’d ever seen her and Iris was swaddled in a blanket, only her face on show. What had happened? Why had Iris come early? The last one was of them recently, on the beach, possibly before they left Votsi. It was as Stan reorganised the photos he noticed that Billie had written on the back of each, a short note giving the date and stage of Iris’s life. He decided to read them later because now he was more concerned about the contents of the letter and the series of events that had led to his daughter’s birth, and her being so poorly.
Picking it up, Stan continued where he’d left off, hoping that Doog would stay away for a while longer, just until he’d got his head round everything. Finding his place, Stan read on and as he did the pieces fell into place and it slowly dawned on him how his life in England, the one that involved that slag Kelly and ran parallel to Billie’s, could have had a profound effect on the outcome. Swallowing down an impending sense of fear, Stan pre-empted guilt and by the time Doog came bounding into the cell, he was awash with it. Billie had gone through hell and reading between the lines, he was more than likely the cause of her descent into the abyss. Once again he had let her down.
‘What’s up with you? Ah, the mystery letter. Did she give you the elbow then?’ Doog was relaxing in his bed, unwrapping a Mars Bar and didn’t wait for Stan to answer before taking a huge bite.
Looking up from the letter, Stan was in no mood for Doog’s piss-taking so decided to nip it in the bud, glad that his cellmate’s mouth was full of food.
‘No, she told me that I’m a dad and she had my kid while she was in Greece.’
‘No shit. So how do you know it’s yours then?’
Doog always talked with his mouth full and it really got on Stan’s tits at the best of times but the comment touched a nerve. ‘Because I know she fucking is, so watch your mouth.’ Stan was trembling but regretted his outburst so softened his tone. ‘Leave the jokes out, Doog, okay, just this once.’
Doog raised his hands in mock surrender, a stump of Mars Bar held between his finger and thumb. ‘Hey… chill out, mate, fuck me I was only messin’. Congratulations by the way. Seriously, I’m chuffed for you, I really am.’ Doog sat up and swung his legs onto the floor.
Stan was riled and his head was on fire with questions and recriminations, and so much hate. He could feel it running through his body like molten lava.
