Wantababy: Chapter 13.

Chapter 13.

Duncan pade for are stay. We clened up the blud, and packed up are stuff including NarstyLadys hand bag. We fownd NarstyLadys car keys and matched it up with a dark blue Toyota Yaris in the car park.

‘Oh, no,’ I said, ‘that menes we coud of dispowsed of her using her own car, if weyud only thort.’

We got in and drove awey from the motel, along the lane owt to wards the mane rode. We drove up North for a cupel of awers. ‘This cars very handy,’ said Duncan, ‘but we have to dump it.’

‘Why?’ I arsked.

‘Because having NarstyLady’s car is a ded give awey that we had some thing to do with her dis aperance,’ he said. He all weys thinks of evry thing like that.

We followed a rode wich went along side a river. We posishuned the car facing the bank, got owt with all are things, and LittelBaby, lucky we dident ferget her, that woud of been bad, and Duncan got in, reved up the enjin then got owt and pressed hard on the axelerater, thrugh the windo, with a stick. He maniged to get the frunt of the car to fall of the bank. The car was stuck. We pushed and pushed but we coudent get the back tires to go in. The frunt of the car sunk littel by littel, quite sloly as it was muddy at the botterm of the river. Unforchunatly are feet had left tracks on the bank but we poked the muddy bits with sticks and dropped bits of fern on them to mess them up.

It was inoying how we had to dump the car in the river because disternses that seme really short in a car seem so much longer on foot. Strete lamps were on. A light drizel was falling. I was trying to stop the wet getting on the babys fase, because she was aslepe and I was afrayd she woud wake up. I held a blankie over her fase.

We strugeled on over a bridge, up a hill and to a juncshun. We terned right. The rode had a very small verj and the grownd was soft and springy and wet. My track soot botterms were soon wet to the knee and cuvered in berrs. We had bort me some new crap traners at a servicis wich were sopping wet. My arms were tiyerd from carrying LittelBaby. Duncan carried her then for a wiol. We trudged on, exorsted all redy and silent. We stood at the next rownd abowt and Duncan stuck his thum owt and I sat on the wet verge and fed the baby. We wated abowt harf an awer. Only abowt sixteen cars parsed us in that time. Shame that all of them woud probly member us, what with the tiny baby and are grimy clothes, but there was nuthing we coud do abowt that.

Finerly some one picked us up. It was a lorry driver. He dident say much, but he parsed us some toffees, and terned the radio up. I wantid to sing along to Biyonsay but I thort Iyud better not. I took LittelBaby owt of the shoe box and held her against my showlder and pattid her back. She cried a bit, then berped and fell aslepe. I lent against Duncan and fell aslepe too. I wished very hard wiol I was falling aslepe that we had not killed Mrs Collins. But I knew in my hart that what was done was done. It had definatly happerned and there was no going back.

I awoke as the lorry came of the moter wey. The driver was going to park up and slepe. Oringe strete lamps were shining sliding bars of light across my fase. LittelBaby was completly zonked owt. We thanked the driver and I handid LittelBaby to Duncan, and climed down from the cab. He handid LittelBaby back to me and climed down too. We put her back in the shoe box and walked into the car park. ‘I jus want to slepe,’ I said to Duncan.

‘Sally-Anne, we carnt slepe. We have to kepe moveing. We have to ….get awey,’ said Duncan.

‘Duncan?’ I said.

‘Yes, Sally-Anne.’

‘Are we on the run?’ I arsked.

‘Yes, Sally-Anne,’ he said. ‘You coud safely say, we are on the run.’

That pepped me up a bit. On the run kind of sownded a bit exiting, like we were in the moovies or some thing. We hitch hiked again from the slip rode on to the moter wey. This time the therd car to pars stopped. ‘Were getting better at this,’ said Duncan. But the car only took us abowt an awer up the rode as he was terning of.

It was raning so we sat in the servisis for harf an awer and had a cup of tea. Duncan was going thrugh NarstyLadys papers. ‘Ha,’ he said.

‘What?’ I said.

‘Well,’ he said, ‘She wasent called Mrs Collins, for starters.’ He pointed to the name on her pars port. ‘Frances Bold. Born in New York, New York.’

‘Oo,’ I said. ‘So she was lying. I knew that, I coud fiyul it.’

‘Look,’ he said. ‘Theres a list..Procter and Snow Ltd…its a lab.’

When he said that, I had a suddern craving for snow to fall. Like quiert gentel flakes taking there time to flote down like thayv got all the time in the werld. Oh, I thort what fun it woud be the ferst time LittelBaby saw snow, we coud make a snow man and snow angles.

‘Whats a lab, Duncan? Is it a dog?’

‘No, it means laboratry. Its where they do speri mints.’

I dident want to seme dumdum so I dident arsk him what speri mints were. I thort may be it was to do with chewing gum. May be they made chewing gum at the snow plase.

Duncan carried on muttering, ‘..like a riceet or some thing….Item…Item….most of them ‘Void.’ Oh, hold on….a cupel say ‘Ishue‘: numbers 187 and 193: ‘ishue‘. Look and all of the uthers say ‘void‘.’

I looked over his showlder. Oh, I realised thay spelt it ‘issue.’ Thats silly because you woud think you woud prernownce it issoo, woudent you? Evern I know that s and h together make a sh sownd. Two essis make a sss sownd. Silly pepol at the snow plase carnt evern spele.

‘And this is the letter orthorising Frances, NarstyLady I mene, to pick up…. Item 187….that must be LittelBaby... from Wantababy.’ He looked at the top of the letter. ‘Procter and Son, Elmlea Laboratries. Why do thay want LittelBaby so badly?’

‘Procter and Snow,’ I said.

‘What?’ said Duncan.

‘Procter and Snow,’ I said. ‘You said Procter and Snow, not Procter and Son.’

Duncan looked back at the papers. ‘Yeh,’ he said, ‘your sharp, Sally-Anne! The cumpny was called Procter and Snow, but later, like now, its Procter and Son.’

‘Maybe Snow died,’ I said, happy that Duncan thort I was sharp. ‘May be Procters son killed him.’

‘What ever. What do thay want with LittelBaby thogh? Thats the queschun.’

‘Well, CrazyStranger did kepe trying to tell me lots of pepol were arfter her,’ I said. ‘But I just thort he was a loony.’

‘What did he say, Sally-Anne?’

I racked my branes but for the life of me I coudent member hardly eny thing. ‘He said LittelBaby was speshul…’

‘Yeeees…?’ said Duncan.

‘…and a cone….’

‘Yeeees…?’ said Duncan.

‘… and neyander thingy and lots of pepol wantid her and wantid to…. I carnt member,’ I said.

‘Neyander thingy?’ arsked Duncan. ‘Whats neyander thingy?’

‘I dont know!’ I ansered. ‘He made no sense. He was a loony Iyum telling you.’

He was frowning at the bit of paper. ‘I wunder why LittelBaby is Item 187,’ he said. ‘Like what happerned to all the uther items?’

He terned the shete over and exclamed, ‘Oh, theres more. Years and years, rows and rows…number 33 was Issue, wey back in 2003, then for years and years there all Void, Void, Void, Void….Void. Hmm, the only other ‘Issue‘ is number 193.’

‘Wich year?’

‘This year, its like recent.’

‘So theres anuther baby?’

‘May be, yes.’

We had to get a move on, so we hedid of. We stood in the rane on the slip rode owt of the servisis for anuther awer bifore eny boddy stopped. It was a lady with grey hare and glarsis. ‘You por things!’ she exclamed as we climed in to her VW Polo. ‘Hitching in this wether. Ooh and with a…’ she looked in my shoe box as if she woud find a puppy or some thing, ‘oo, a baby! And very teeny! Well I never. What a treet!’ She rubbed her windo with her sleev as it was all stemed up and she coudent see much, and she pulled owt. She drove quite sloly. I fell aslepe next to her in the frunt with my hed bumping on my windo, and Duncan held the shoe box in the back. We drove and drove on thrugh the night. The lady was going all the way up to Glasgow to visit her grand dorter. We said we woud go all the way with her if she dident mind. ‘No, no, Iyum glad of the cumpny,’ she said.

She stopped at a big servises arownd Carliyul. ‘Have a stretch, do, I wont be a minit,’ she said. We changed the babys nappy and drank some water owt of the tap and bort sanwigis and I sat on a toilet sete with LittelBab slerping awey on my nippel. It still hurt like mad, but I loved doing it.

The lady came back a time later with a small baby car sete. I was so tuched I startid to cry. ‘Dont cry, dere, its the least I can do to help,’ she said.

I jus coudent stop crying arfter that. I cried and cried, rivers of teres all the way. The lady woud reche across and pat my hand evry so often, and Duncan woud pars me crackers, but no one spoke for a cupel of awers.

At five in the morning we got a coffee at a Costa. The TV was on. I saw a police boat, a cordened of airea, pepol dressed in wite soot things, some one talking abowt merder. Oh bugger. Thay had fownd the lady on the bowt. Thay woud be looking for us all redy.

Car sete lady was in the toilets. ‘Duncan,’ I said. ‘We shoud of jus dumpt NarstyLady in the river. And what did we even do with the merder wepern?’

He stared at me. ‘What was the murder wepern?’ he said.

‘The brick,’ I wispered. ‘Carnt you member?’

‘Oh, yeh,’ he said. ‘I chucked it in the river cos it had blud on it.’

‘Oh, good.’ I realised thogh that may be sniffer dogs woud be arfter us like straight awey. Wurries came poring in on me. ‘Duncan,’ I said, ‘we have to get as far awey as we can.’

‘Lisen,’ he said, ‘it will take them a wiol to find owt who she is. Its not like we sent her of down the river with her ID. She hasent got her pars port with her. And shes from New York, so it will take a wiol.’

‘Shes dusent live in New York. Shes lives…lived… in Lunden, I think,’ I tolled him. ‘It dident take her long to tern up that night arfter LittelBaby was born did it?’

‘Oh,’ he said. ‘Well, thats not so good then.’

The lady came back from the toilet so I dragged my eyes awey from the TV and tried to look normel. We got back on the rode, and finerly got owt on the Glasgow ring rode. I thanked her for the car sete. She jus gave us a winck and said, ‘good luck,’ and ‘your a very good mummy.’

Anuther lorry took us up parst Loch Lomund where we bort bred and sardines and twiglits in a villige shop. Then we got a lift up a glen in a Lan Drover with a shepe in it. Duncan sat on a buckit of chickin feed. I sat on some sacks with LittelBaby on my lap. The shepe looked at us. Its ears were very long and went straight owt from its hed. I scratched it arownd its littel horns. It dident mind being stroked. Its hare was very wirey and springey. It had sweet littel black lips. We bumped along for a wiol. The farmer was looking in his rere view mirrer. He glansed round at us. ‘Want to tell us what youv done?’ he said.

We were like, ‘What?’

He stopped the engin and pointid owt the back. Half a mile back down the curvy track there was a convoy of like eight police cars coming arfter us. The farmer got owt.

‘Sally-Anne,’ hissed Duncan. ‘Just dont say eny thing. Its safer if you dont say a werd.’

‘I wont, Duncan,’ I said. ‘Are thay arfter LittelBaby, or are thay arfter us?’

‘It must be abowt NarstyLady,’ he wispered.

The police cars put on their flashy lights as they got close. The por shepe looked wurried. She bleetid. The blue flashis were lighting her up. Me and LittelBaby were both staring in fasinashun at the strobey bleeting blue shepe. I suddernly thort of some thing. ‘NarstyLadys papers!’ I said.

Duncan looked panicked. He rummidged in his bag, broght owt the papers and the pars port, peeled the lid of the chickin fede buckit what he was siting on, thrust them in there, shoved the lid back down and sat down on it again. I know his hart must of bene thumping like he woud have a hart attack, cos mine was to. The back doors operned. I held tight onto LittelBaby as the blue lights fluddid are facis.

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Wantababy: Chapter 12

Chapter 12.

‘Look,’ she said, simply, with her eye brows rased and staring at LittelBaby, who was in my arms. ‘Sally-Anne. I…Iyuv come to get the…my…baby.’

‘Well, I am sorry….but you carnt have her,’ I said, trying to push the dor shut on her. She put her foot in it so the dor woudent shut.

‘Look, lets jus stop all this non sense, shall we, and start over?’ she hissed.

‘Shes not your baby,’ I said, ‘Shes my baby.’

NarstyLadys eyes bulged and she made a ‘durr’ sort of fase. ‘Erm…it wasent your egg and it wasant your boy friends sperm. No. It was my egg and my husbands sperm. You also singed a contract.’

‘Why dont you ever tell the truth?’ I arsked her. ‘Get your foot owt of my dor!’

‘I dont like your aterchood, Sally-Anne,’ she hissed. ‘Iyum not leving un less its with the baby.’ She lent for werd to wards me, with her arms owt streched. I coudent get back because I was still trying to slam the dor in her fase. Her fingers snaked rownd LittelBabys rist bifore I coud pull her awey. She was gripping LittelBabys arm, so we were practickly having a tug of wor with her and the por baby startid to screme.

‘Look, you want the truth, do you, Sally-Anne,’ she hissed despritly, yanking with all the strenth of one spindely arm, and trying to hit me in the fase with her uther arm, ‘if I fale in my mishun,’ smack, ‘my life wont be werth living.’ Smack. ‘I have to diliver her today.’ Smack. ‘ You dont under stand….my bossis have no mersy, they woud kill.…’

NarstyLady stopped hissing. Duncan was suddernly there biside me, and NarstyLadys hand let go of LittelBabys rist, and she fell down, with her mowth wide opern, sloly, bit by bit, all most like she was joking like she was in the theater or some thing. Part of me thort ‘Oh, I wunder what she was going to say,’ and I all most laughed. Then I saw that Duncan had smacked her in the hed with a brick. There was a big red cut on her hare, oozing blud. Her legs were twitching. She was moning. ‘Oh, my god, Duncan!’ I said. ‘Well done! You are a fucking hero.’

‘Yeah,’ he said, looking at NarstyLady. ‘You were right, Sally-Anne, NarstyLady is a proper bitsh. Shes not geting LittelBaby.’

‘Well, not now shes not,’ I said, ‘cos you done her in.’ I put LittelBaby in her shoe box carry cot, propped up on blankies, and picked up that brick and smashed it again and again on NarstyLadys hed. I dident want to. You know I dident. Its jus I had to make shure she was ded. Blud was seeping in to the lino, thick and dark and stickey. I knew I had to clene it up. LittelBaby was wotching. She wasant crying, jus looking with wide eyes.

Oh, stupid persen. Why did she have to come arfter us? It was her folt. She dident diserve a baby. How woud NarstyLady have fed the baby with owt milk in her tits for starters? Evry one knows bottel milk isent safe sinse all those thowsands of babies dide in 2017.

We stood there looking at the boddy. A small dark bubbel popped owt of its nose. ‘Now look…’ said Duncan. ‘Weve got to get rid of that now.’

‘The bubbel,’ I arsked, ‘or the boddy?’

Duncan laughed. He all weys likes my jokes. ‘The boddy,’ he ansered.

‘How?’ I arsked. ‘Oh, Iyuv seen this on telly, like lodes of times….’ I tried to member. ‘Oh yeh, I think you have to rap the boddy in a blankit and slide it down the stares.’

‘Yeah, well, weyer on the grownd flor, so there are no stares,’ said Duncan.

‘Then thay chop its arms and legs of to fit it in the car, cos its gone stiff.’

‘We havent got a car,’ said Duncan.

‘No. We havent,’ I said.

‘And shes not gone stiff, yet.’

‘No, but we havent got a car, eny wey, so theres no point chopping her up,’ I rimindid him.

‘Did it end well?’ arsked Duncan.

‘What?’ I arsked.

‘You know. The thing you saw on the telly.’

I coudent member if it had but thort that probly it hadent. I did member the man who had to cut the legs and arms of the boddy went bonkers and went to live in the attic and lerked in the roof spying on pepol thrugh holes. Having to chop up a boddy woud drive you bonkers. If I had to do it, it woud make me more bonkers than I all redy am, Iyum shure.

I garsped suddernly with a realisashun. ‘Dus this mene you are a merderer?’

‘No, Iyum not. You are,’ said Duncan.

‘No Iyum not! You are,’ I said.

‘You are!’ he said.

‘No, you are!’ I said.

We endid up on the bed rolling arownd hitting each uther, giggling.

‘You merderer!’ I said. ‘Duncan is a merderer!’

‘I only bashed her once,’ he prertestid, siting on top of me and pinning my arms to the bed. ‘You bashed her lots of times.’

‘But my bashis were littel. Your bash was big,’ I said. I membered some thing. ‘Theres a blankit in the cubberd.’

Duncan got of me and lit a fag and paced abowt, thinking, wiol I pulled the blankit owt.

‘We might rap her in a blankit but we still gotta get rid of her,’ he said. ‘And in a surrup tishus manner.’

‘Duncan?’ I said.

‘Yes, Sally-Anne?’ he said.

‘Whats surrup tishus?’ we said to gether.

I laughed. Hes so clever and all weys knows what I am going to say. Its like he can rede my mind.

‘Its so no boddy sees,’ he explaned.

‘We coud jus tip her quiertly in to the river?’ I serjested.

‘No, we want her to be far awey from here, cos the motel pepol have seen us and know what we look like,’ said Duncan.

We both had the idear at the same time. ‘That littel bowt. We coud put her in the bowt. Then sheyull flowt far awey down streme.’

‘We hope,’ I said.

‘Yes, we hope,’ he said.

‘If she went up streme weyud wunder why!’ I said.

We giggled a bit nervusly. Then I made my self stop bifore I had a massiv giggerling fit, because I realised it was not funny. Like ded boddies, is not funny. And aspesholy not if youv corsed them to be ded.

Some times I know I am not like uther pepol because I think things are funny when thay really dont. ‘Duncan?’ I said.

‘Yes, Sally-Anne,’ he said.

‘Why do I some times think things are funny what uther pepol dont think are at all funny?’

And this is when Duncan said : ‘Blimey, Sally-Anne, you really are the Queen of Digreshuns.’ I laughed because it sowndid funny. I dident know what Digreshuns ment thogh.

‘Duncan?’ I said.

‘Yes, Sally-Anne,’ he rip lied.

‘Whats digreshuns?’ we said to gether.

I laughed. ‘How did you know I was going to say that?’ I said.

‘Because I know you,’ he said, and kissed my cold cheke and put his hand bitween my legs. ‘And I love you, Sally-Anne.’

I felt a thrill right in my toes and right up my boddy in to the back of my hed. Goose bumps going deep in side me to my cor. A prickley, luvley fiyuling.

We took the baby down to the river in the shoe box. There were so meny trees and rocks that no boddy woud see us. Bisides wich, there wasent eny one arownd. We tipped the bowt over. It was quite flimsy fiber glars, paintid with black tar stuff. It hadent been used for agis. It had spiders webs and beetels in it. We left the baby jus for a minit wiol we went back for the boddy. To gether we dragged it, sloly sloly, on the blankit to the bowt, and Duncan took the hed end and I took the feet, still in there shiney high heels, and we heeved her in to it. Blimey, she dident look that hevy but my, was she ever! She wasant very centrel but it coudent be helped. She was kind of sitting up lening on the side of the bowt. Duncan put a brarnch in her hand, sticking owt from the side of the bowt. Oh my, now it woud look like she was paderling her way down the river. Until you got close that is. Duncan grabbed some grarsis and made a sort of pillow for her hed so she looked a bit better. I mopped the blud of her fase with a bit of my shert. It dident help much. Now she looked very smery and quite upset. Her hare was all messed up too with ortum leves and twigs in it. She woud not of been happy if she coud of seen her hare. I was suddernly glad that she was ded so she coudent see it. Duncan took his fag owt of his mowth and put it in bitween NarstyLadys lips. ‘Yeh, smoke on that!’ he said, and then pushed the bowt owt hard from the bank with his fut.

She flowted of looking like she was smoking and paderling.

It was quite a specticle. Looking at her, I realised that it was all because of us that she was like that. I startid to cry. ‘But then again, its still her folt,’ I thort. ‘She shoudent of come trying to grab LittelBaby.’ Duncan came over and held me by the waste and kissed me again. It felt so nice I all most fergot my trubels. LittelBaby was crying so we picked her up and kissed her. The silver berches flickered the larst of there leves looking all silvery in the moon light. In that littel moment by the light of the soring moon, I felt like we were a happy famly, cosy and luvley to gether. I fergot abowt what was going on. But when I looked back to wards the river and saw the bowt flowting of with the gory gory gerl on it, I scremed and startid to shiver. NarstyLadys hare was on fiyer!

‘Duncan! NarstyLadys hare is on fiyer!’ I wispered.

He looked rownd. ‘Fuck my life,’ he groned.

Yeh, bit of a fale on the surrup tishus dispowsing of the boddy frunt. I coud of said to him, ‘you shoudent of put that fag in her mowth,’ but I dident, as I often have to take the blame for things and I know it dusent fiyul nice being rong abowt some thing.

But… it was a horribel sight. The flames from her hare lit up her blud staned fase and staring eyes and carst an oringe glow on her hand holding the brarnch. Oh god, some boddy was bownd to see a berning lady paderling down the river. Why carnt we tern the clock back in life? I wished that we had not hert her. I wished it very very hard, with all of me, willing for us to be back bifore it had happerned, or wishing it coud all be a bad dreme, but no. There we were still, clutching on to each uther, all three of us, staring at this awfull garstly sight what we had made.

selfi of me and Duncan

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Some Darnsing Sally-Anne Pics

Here is Sally-Anne doing her darnsing.

Doing my darnsing

And here is Sally-Anne’s selfie with Duncan and LittelBaby:

selfy of me and Duncan and LittelBaby

And here is Sally-Anne thinking about all her troubles:

How ever much I racked my brane I still dident know what to do

 

 

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Wantababy: Chapter 11

Chapter 11.

I had jus had a realisashun.

I looked down at the baby. Suddernly her eyes snapped opern. Thay were very black and very wise. Thay stared in to my soul and tolled me what to do. There was anuther showt from the maniger lady and Nerse Janit. Thay were runing to wards us. The maniger lady was yelling in to her mobile. Nerse Janit was clowser. She streched owt her arms as if to take the baby of me. I gripped on to LittelBaby tight, and just as Nerse Janit made a suddern lunge for her, I wisked her awey and startid to sprint to wards the exit. I swiveled rownd to bump the swing dors opern with my back, brushed parst anuther nerse who was jus coming in, ran down the coridor and pushed my hip on the bar to opern the fire iscape. Oh shit, it was an alarmed one, but at least it opernd. I ran down, clang clang clang on the metel as the sirens went Wooop Woooop. Dont drop the baby, I said to my self. I cluched her with one arm, so I coud hold the rale with the uther. I reched the grownd and startid haring up the parth to the rode.

I was looking bihind me to see if eny one was following, so I dident see the lady coming up the parth. I bumped into her with my showlder and nocked in to her quite strongley. I stumbeled and tripped, but did not let go of LittelBaby. The lady staggered in her high heles and exclamed. It was NarstyLady. Shit, she was come to get LittelBaby, for shure. I tore thrugh the garden, owt parst the hedge and on to the silent rode. I ran left, looking both weys. Where was Duncan? He was not there! May be heyud thort better of it. There were only the oringe strete lamps, and a fox crossing the rode. I herd lowd runing steps bihind me. My breth was coming in big raggid garsps but I did not stop runing. I looked back. Jesus Crist, it was Jimmy thundering arfter me. I peltid all the way up the strete. There was a veyicle bihind me. I did not look back again. I kept runing. My hart was pownding pane fully in my chest. Thay woud get me. It was certun. I woud have to give up my baby for the secund time. I coudent bare it. I howled with frigt. Brakes squeled. I gave up. ‘Sorry, LittelBaby,’ I sobbed and I kissed her cheke, ‘Iyum so sorry, I wish you coud of been mine.’ I stopped, garsping and snotting all over the strete. Duncan lened over to wind down the windo. ‘Stop runing, you numpty,’ he called, ‘and get in!’

I handid LittelBaby in to him and Duncan yanked me up in to the cab, just as Jimmy grabbed me by the hips, so the van shot off with him still hanging on to my tracki botterms. Gripping on to Duncans arm, I twistid my body rownd so I could nee Jimmy in the bolluks and kick him in the shins. The track soot botterms then fell down as far as my feet,  so Jimmy was being dragged along for abowt a hole minit with his chin bumping along the tar mack and me screming my hed of, bifore I maniged to rigel my feet owt of my traners. Jimmy was left in a battered state, clutching my empty clothes in the middel of the rode.

I pulled my feet in dubbel quick, and slamed the door, sobbing with relief. ‘Fiew!’ I said. ‘You shoud of done that Jimmy in a bit more!’

‘I did nock him owt,’ Duncan said. ‘But it obviusly dident larst.’ He took a windy root owt of town.

I kissed my baby on her fore hed, still sobbing, and held her tight. I never wantid to let her go awey from me ever again. ‘NarstyLady was there,’ I tolled Duncan. ‘She was coming in, she was on the parth.’

‘Yeah, she was coming to get Sprinkels,’ he said. ‘Tolled you, we dident have eny time to loose.’

Hummbold I was, looking at my baby.  She was so perfict, so niew that she seemed to be from anuther univers where there are only angles.  I knew with owt a shadow of a dowt what love was. And I under stood that this love is crushal to being a human being. It is the secret of why pepol have servived for millyuns of yeres. Its why we have not dide owt, because you litrally know that you woud lay down your life for your baby. I think dinasors loved there babies too, I think thay were sweet to them and licked them lovingley, but they only dide owt because the wether changed and it got to cowld for them. I think all crechurs love there babies, mowses and rabits, even snales and slugs. Even a wood lowse loves its baby, and an ear wig. Probly evern maggots love there baby maggots. Its because in loving your baby, you are loving the fiucher and the pull of the fiucher is very strong. Fiucher babies who nede to live and injoy the planit are calling to us from far awey over the yeres what seperate us, arsking us to have babies. Its abowt servival. And I think that may be if you are a bit daft, like me, you can love your babies even more than brillyunt pepol whose clever ness gets in the way of there loving there babies. Thayr to rapped up in thinking abowt ejucating there baby, and numbers and long werds and all those idears thay have, to jus let them selvs rilax, like I coud do with my baby. We were like weldid to gether. The edjis of who we were were blerd and fuzy, and I felt my self reche owt and be the baby, and I knew she was recheing owt and being me. She was bicoming me and I was bicoming her. And that felt jus wunder full. I carnt discribe it for you in long werds like a powit woud or like a persen who rites songs woud when thay talk abowt love, but I can tell you, there was nuthing like that fiyuling in the hole werld.

Duncan drove with his hand on my nee. We drove and drove. Parst Norrich, parst Swofferm and Kings Lin then up parst Peterburer and then North.

We got owt to get a cup of tea, some food, napies and fule in a small petrel stashun of the A1. We looked arownd for CCTV.

‘We need to get up to Scot Land, in to the mowntins where there are no camras,’ Duncan said.

‘Yeh, cos Iyuv all weys wantid to show the baby how to throw stownes in to the lakes and here them go plop,’ I said.

Duncan jus looked at me and shook his hed.

‘What?’ I arsked.

‘Jus…you,’ he said. ‘You really arnt on this planit, are you?’

‘Ha ha,’ I said. ‘I am on this planit, silly, at least as much as you are, eny way.’

‘Only trubel is,’ said Duncan, ‘I have to give the van back to Steve, soon. The donuts is his live lihood.’

We got back in the van. The baby sucked my nipperls. It wasent hard, as she was really good at it and knew what to do. Then I held her on my lap and we looked at eche uther. She looked so beautifle. Like she had been sunning her self on a beach. Gowldern smooth skin. Tuftey pale hare. A frowny littel fore hed. Very red lips. We unrapped her and changed her nappy and dressed her in a new baby gro. We rapped her up again. She made no noisis, jus tiny snuffels. We lined the shoe box with anuther blankit and Duncans fleese. Then we lade her in it. It was a perfict size for her.

‘What are we going to call her?’ he said.

‘I dont know,’ I said. ‘Let me lisen a wiol and see if she can tell me.’

I sat still and shut my eyes, but herd nuthing and a terribel tiyerd ness over took me and I slumped down in the corner of the van. Duncan put a blankit under my hed and cuvered me with his big cote. ‘I think shes jus called LittelBaby,’ I wispered and fell aslepe for a fiew awers.

In Yorksher the van terned on to bumpy tracks across mors so I woke up. As the dawn spred like bony fingers of pinkish light across the sky we terned the enjin of in the midderl of a beautifle rolling vally of perple hether. I changed the babys nappy and she sucked my milk again. It hert but it was also wunder full. I felt prowd that I coud do it with no one showing me how. Duncan put slepeing bags on the flor of the van so he coud slepe too and we slept for awers with LittelBaby bitween us.

We stayed there for two days so we coud slepe and slepe. Juring that time we lernt to look arfter LittelBaby. It was easy because she knew what she needid. We used the van for making benes on towst and coffee. When the food startid running owt we dicidid to move on, go ferther north. We had to werk owt how to give the van back to Steve so we stopped at a motel nere Scots Corner and Duncan called him.

I loved the motel. I had never stayed in one bifore. It was a low, long, woodern bilding. All the rooms were on the grownd flor. They all had a littel balcany thing owt the back with two deck chares on it. You coud sit there looking owt over popler trees and silver berchis all with gowld and yello leves and a rocky river rushing parst. There was a small, up terned bowt on the bank.

‘Look, Duncan, theres a littel bowt!’ I said. ‘We coud go rowing.’

‘We arent on holiday, Sally-Anne,’ he said. I thort that was a bit rong, cos really we sort of were on holiday. I mene, what is a holiday if it isent when you go awey some where? And we defiantly had gone awey some where quite far, ferther than I had ever gone bifore at least.

Duncan was smoking anuther fag nervusly. There was hardly eny one else in the uther rooms as it was erly novemba. It was disertid and a bit chilly. You coud see your breth on the air. Duncan went owt to buy some beers. Then we put the telly on. There was nuthing on telly thogh. There never is. We lay on a proper bed. Mmm it was luvley. ‘This is proper lukshury,’ I said. LittelBaby dident like being in side as much as she liked being owt side or in the van thogh. She liked lisening to the leves rusling in the trees and fiyuling the brease on her fase.

‘I tolled Steve Iyud meet him five miols awey from here,’ said Duncan. ‘Heyull get there tomorro at abowt two. Hes coming up on the trane.’

‘What if he tells pepol where we are?’

‘He jus woud never do that,’ said Duncan. ‘But I wont tell him where you are, eny way.’

The next day, he drove the van of to give it back. He walked back the five miols. When he got back I was lying on the bed trying to get on my fase book on my phone. Duncan saw me keying in things and lept to wards me. ‘What are you doing?’ he cried owt. ‘Sally-Anne, dont be daft! Your locashun can be tracked.’ He grabbed it of me and took owt the battry. ‘Best not use it at all,’ he grumbold.

We liked it so much at the motel that we dicidid to stay anuther night. I think that was are miss take. We shoud of got crackin in sted. Duncan had gone owt to get more beers and I had jus finished changing LittelBabys nappy on the flor and there was a nock at the dor. I thort it was Duncan. I picked up LittelBaby and operned the dor.

It was NarstyLady.

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Wantababy: Chapter 10

Chapter 10.

He was crowched biside my bed. His eyes glemed black and yello from lights riflectid in them. ‘Sally-Anne,’ he wispered. ‘What thay done to you is rong….Iyum sorry…’

I felt sad ness more than eny thing. ‘Did you…did you…bitray me?’ I arsked him.

The look on his fase was my anser. I coud hardly bileve it.

‘Were you…going to let them take LittelBaby…all along?’

There was a silence. His warm hand squezed mine. ‘Shh, yes, Sally-Anne,’ he wispered. ‘Iyum sorry. I dident realise what it ment. It was like easy muny. I agreed to it bifore I even met you.’

 I pulled my hand out of his and terned my fase to the wall.

‘I really am a hundred persent sorry, I will make it up to you.’ He ducked down suddernly, as a nerse with a clip bord came throgh the swing dors to the ward and clicked parst my cubical.

I said nuthing. Losing him was all most as much a blow as losing LittelBaby.

‘Lisen, Sally-Anne, I’m here to help you get LittelBaby back.’

Oh god, what a stupid idiut. Thay woud never risk letting her owt of there sight. Teres were poring down my fase. Why do I never find rele friends? Only idiuts. Probly because I am a gullibel, naïv idiut my self. Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid Sally-Anne. Why had I ever thort that I coud find a boy friend as good and as nice as the Duncan I thort I knew? Of cors it had all been fake. I had jus been imminensly stupid to think I, Silly-Sally, coud of struk gowld.

‘We carnt get her back, Duncan. Thay will be garding her. And we dont even know where she is, like where did thay take her?’

He stared at me. ‘Sheyull be here, wont she? In the center? At least for a fiew awers.’

Well yes. Where else coud thay of taken her? I realised she was most likely very clowse. And its not like NarstyLady woud of arrived all redy to get her in the middel of the night, shurly, as sheyud had no warning that I woud give berth a weke erly. I lened up on my elbow and looked abowt me. No one was arownd. The nerse who had jus helped me had gone of up the coridor and was tapping on a compiuter at the far end. But a terribel weke ness was in my legs and in my hart. ‘Duncan,’ I said, sinking back down on the pillos, ‘I jus…I jus dont think I can.’

‘Sally-Anne,’ he wispered, ‘its now or never. If you want your baby, youv got to get her now, wiol thay wont be ixpecting you to have the strenth.’

I was crying again. ‘But…I dont have the strenth.’

He rolled under my bed, as the same nerse squeked back again to the dor with her clip bord. He rolled owt again.

‘Yes you do,’ he wispered. ‘You can do it. Iyum going to help you. Sally-Anne, I promis I will never bitray you again. I love you.’

I said nuthing. I jus gulped down more snot.

‘Plese, Sally-Anne. Your the best thing that ever happerned to me. Iyuv never had so much fun as when Iyum with you.’

No…how coud I trust him now? I was thinking again of how we darnsed on the beach. Had he only darnsed just because he was pade to keep an eye on me and he was jus extra good at his job? I thort how are friend ship had sunk.

‘Did you only darnse with me….because it was your job?’ I arsked.

‘No, no, Sally-Anne, how can you think that? That was me, that wasent the job! Sally-Anne, we havent got time…Neo natel is jus along the coridor, and up on level 2, I parsed a sign as I was coming in,’ he said erjently.

‘Yeh, I know where it is,’ I said. ‘Its jus, Iyum not brave like you.’

‘Sally-Anne,’ Duncan hissed, ‘What have you got to loose?‘

I thort abowt it. What did I have to loose? If thay cort me, I woud only be in the same situashun as I was in now. I coud try then….was I brave enugh?

‘Iyum getting the van,’ he wispered. ‘Iyull be owt side the frunt in fifteen minits.’

I jus stared at him in terrer. My boddy was shaking, like in volanterily.

‘Come on Sally-Anne, LittelBaby Sprinkels nedes us.’

‘Duncan,’ I wispered, clutching his hand tight, ‘thay have a night…sicurity gard, Jimmy, owt side….the dor of neo natel.’ My voice was coming in strange, raggid garsps.

He frowned. ‘Iyull go there ferst. Iyull dele with Jimmy. By the time you get there, heyull be gone, dont wurry,’ he said.

Dispite my terrer, I maniged to give a tiny nod. He looked arownd to check no boddy was there, and shot of owt the dor.

Fere corsed thrugh me. I tried to cuntrol the littel garsps and sobs that were coming owt of me. I was still shivring as I pulled my self owt of the bed, kepeing lo, squished my pillos into a boddy shape under the cuvers and scrumpeled a black cardigun where my hed shoud be. With my tethe chattering, I pulled the hoodie thay had broght me back over my hed and pulled on jogging botterms and my traners.

I knew where neo natel was, because it was on the same flor as where I had my helth checks. With my hed swivling franticly apon my showlders, I did what Duncan had done, and zoomed as farst as I coud, but on tip toes to slip owt of the swing dors. I had no time to look back and see if I was being followed. I heved my self up a fligt of stares, quiertly, quiertly, and crossing my fingers in my hed, pushed opern the dor at the top a crack and peked rownd. The coridor was empty. I shuffeled up it, peped rownd the corner and again ran along until I reched an alcove. Right next to the alcove was a fire iscape with a spyrolled metel stare case on the owt side of the bilding. Coud I get owt there with LittelBaby? Was it the tipe of dor wich woud set of an alarm? The neo natel ward was jus biyond it at the end of the coridor. There were two glars windos in the dors. It looked darkish in side. As I peeked owt of my alcove the dors banged opern. I pulled my hed back sharply.

‘Oh! Wheres Jimmy gone?’ said a nerse.

‘Gone for a fag, mos probly,’ said anuther.

‘Hes left his coffee bihind, silly man! Itul go cold.’

Thay squeked parst chatting in low voicis. I squeezed my self back against the wall. I thort I might screme or may be wet my self with fright.

I tip toed very quiertly to wards the dors. Shure enugh, no sign of Jimmy. Jus an empty chare, a niews paper and the coffee cup on the flor, steming jently. Well done, Duncan. I looked thrugh the glars windo. All looked still with in. I took my curidge in my hands. ‘What have you got to loose, Sally-Anne?‘ I arsked my self again and I ansered my self too, with fresh teres corsing down my chekes: ‘Nuthing, abselutely nuthing, Sally-Anne.’

I pushed opern the dors and walked in. No boddy sterred. No boddy was in the resepshun airea. At the far end a woman who looked like she was the maniger was bent over files with a littel reading lamp iloominating the paper. She looked up but she was quite far awey. I walked normally. The ferst two littel see thrugh cots were empty. I walked on, like in a dreme, to the therd cot. It was a fat boy baby with a very red fase. Not mine. I carried on walking. ‘You jus have to be very very quick, Sally-Anne, and very very shure of your self,’ I said to my self. ‘Confidance is evry thing.’ The next cot was surrowndid by blue curtens. I slipped rownd the curten. There was the cot. There was my baby. She was dressed in a pink baby gro. Her hed was tiny. Her hare was wite. Her hands were the tiniest things you ever saw. Rownd her rist I saw the tag with ‘Collins’ on it. No time to loose, I picked her up. Her hed fell for werd on to my coller bown. She was floppy. She gurgeled. I grabbed the blankits from the cot, clarsped them arownd her, and shuffeled off, but farst, ‘no noise, Sally-Anne, make no noise,’ I said to my self.

I herd a showt. I terned rownd but carried on shufferling back werds as farst as I coud. The maniger lady with the files was harf way to wards me, a questshuning look on her fase. ‘Excuse me?’ she called. A nerse looked owt of a room and startid walking to wards me. It was Nerse Janit. ‘Sally-Anne!’ she exclamed. Suddernly thay were panicking, and showting for Jimmy. My legs stopped walking. I was like frozen and coudent move. I knew they were going to get her of me. My legs woud not obay my mind.

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Wantababy: Chapter 9

BTW, I now have a pic of Sally-Anne for you.  I love the way the baby is glowing from within.

Chapter 9.

I sat there moning and sobbing and shaking. I gave berth to the plasenta, a mucky, derty bisness if ever there was one. I was sitting in blud, it was vile. I was starting to realise what had happerned. ‘Wheres my baby?’ I sobbed. ‘I want my baby.’

‘Thay…thayuv taken the baby,’ Duncan said. He took my hand and kissed it. He kept looking at me. He looked really sad. I lay back again and tears jus stremed down my fase. ‘We dident manige, did we, Duncan?’ I waled.

‘You tried your best,’ he said. I dozed again, I coudent move, I felt like I had run a hundred miols. It was still dark in the hut. There was one lantern, and Duncan had hung up his torch. It was swinging arownd, carsting shadows arownd the small space. I felt like a por hert animal, crowched in the corner on the bludy sleeping bag. No boddy seemed to have much pity for me. ‘You shoudent of run of like that,’ scoldid the nerse. ‘Its dangerus to try to give berth by your self. You coud of dide.’

‘I might as well of dide,’ I said, ‘if I carnt have my baby.’ My fase crumpeled up again, and I wept and wept. I bled in to the slepeing bag, and sat in a cold puddel of blud. Duncan broght me paper to mop my self up. I shuved it under me and clung to him, leving bludy smeres on his shirt.

‘Theres a car coming,’ said the nerse, looking at her phone. ‘Weyull get you up to the car park in a jiffy as soon as the porters give us a hand.’

‘I carnt move,’ I said. I never wantid to move again. I wantid to die. I coudent bare it. It was not fare. I wantid to tell evry one that it wasant fare, but I knew that no boddy woud lisen to Silly Sally. No boddy ever lisened to me, because I wasant clever. I knew that was rong. Some times clever pepol shoud lisen to pepol like me, because may be some times we are right. I knew that I loved that baby more, much more than the pepol she was going to. That baby woud have a better life with me, because I loved her. I woud never leve her with a nanny. I woud never send her to school bifore she was redy. I woud never send her of to bording school awey from me. I woud all weys be there for her, and love her, and do eny thing and evry thing for her and with her. I thort I woud sob my hart owt. Duncan had boyled the kettel, and broght me a cup of tea, with no milk. I slerped it grate fully. It made me feel a teensy tiny bit better.

Then two berly porters from the center nocked on the dor. Thay had seen the light shining owt of the windo. ‘Come on then, lets get you back to the center,’ one of them said. Thay had broght a hold all with sanitery pads and baggy jogging botterms and a big hoodie. Thay went owt side on to the decking and shut the dor wiol I got dressed. Evry thing took a long time as I was slo and sad and shaking. I thort may be from now on I woud never be happy again. I knew it.

Duncan was not invitid to come in the car with us. I arrived back at the center. The recepshunist looked at me. The night cleners looked at me. Evry one was staring. Lucky it was night so there were not too meny pepol arownd or I woudent of been abel to bare it. I was led to a bed in the observashun ward. A nerse came and took my blud presher, and my tempricher. She tucked me up, and pattid my arm. ‘Come on,’ she said quiertly. ‘Its not that bad. Youll be pade in a cuple of days. Magine that!’

‘I dont want…stupid muny,’ I wispered. ‘What is muny? Its jus paper. I jus wantid to kepe my baby.’

‘Truth is, pet,’ she said, ‘it never was your baby. You have to exept that. The job states that very clere.’

I dozed. I dremed of all the horrers that had happerned that day and night. The fere, the running, the pane, the loss, the crying. I also re lived moments that I had missed erlier. I saw Duncan opern the dor of the hut. I was crowched in the corner moning with my hed down, but as he opernd it, I liftid my hed jus enugh to catch the nerse who came in saying ‘Fancy seeing you here,’ and giving him a winck.

Did I dreme that or not? And did I magine this: the uther nerse, in a lo voice said, ‘Thanks, Duncan,’ and the next bit was only brethed, but I think my hering was extra good with all the adrenlin or some thing because it was clere even thrugh my moning, ‘We knew we woud be abel to cownt on you.’

What did this mene? I wundered. Coud it really be that Duncan was going to call them all along? Had thay arsked him to spy on me? I membered that it was Nerse Janit who had arsked me to fetch her donuts on that very ferst day I met Duncan. Did this mene that are hole friend ship coud be fake? I dident know. I jus dident know. The saspishun of it made me very sad thogh because Duncan had made me happy. I had thort I had a rele friend. Now I felt like may be I had no friend, and no baby.

I cried again when I thort of Duncan calling the baby Sprinkels. Was he jus acting like he liked me? He mus be a good acter then. More teres fell as I thort of us darnsing on the beach. Had he jus bene prertending to like darnsing? I thort abowt how sollid Duncan had felt when I squished his arms and showlders in my hands. He had felt so rele. I fell aslepe thinking that if Duncan was fake then the hole werld was fake and nuthing woud ever be rele or right again.

At abowt four in the morning I startid awake. All the things wich had happerned came fludding back in on me like an oshun of dispare. I had to go for a wee. It was so pane full. It stung. A nerse herd my crying and came and showed me how to por warm water over me at the same time as weeing so it woudent sting. She led me back to bed and tucked me up again. She gave me brest pads for my brests as thay were hard and sore, and leking milk.

I tried to slepe again but I coudent. I tossed and terned. Suddernly, a warm hand was on mine. I startid up with a jolt. ‘Sshhh,’ said a voice, in a wisper. ‘Its me, Duncan.’

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Wantababy: Chapter 8

Chapter 8.

The pulling sensashuns startid to get more pane full. I wotched a bit of a movie in the cinema room but it felt better if I kept moving arownd. I tried to look normel as I was pasing abowt. It was a bit like quite bad periud pane. I wated un till thay got werse. I looked owt of the windo at the dusk and the thin sliver of moon low in the sky. Then I suddernly realised I had fergotten to get the stuff I needid for the baby.

I looked arownd me to make shure I was not being wotched, and went to the supplies room. I looked at all the shelvs. ‘Think, Sally-Anne,’ I thort to my self. ‘Think. What do I need for the baby?’ I took four wite baby blankits of a shelf and stuffed them in my bag. I grabbed a pack of disposabel nappies and a pack of wipes. I opernd a cubberd and took owt three tiny baby gros and a hand full of vests. I stuffed them all in my bag and zipped it up. As I was scurrying owt, I nabbed two packs of cottern wool from a trolley. I had seen babies leving the center with the pepol who had bort them. Thay were all weys dressed in baby gros, rapped in blankits. I thort I probly had enugh stuff for the ferst fiew days, then I woud send Duncan owt to get more.

I bumped into a nerse as I was coming owt of the room. She looked at the cottern wool in my hand with queschuning eyes. ‘Its…’ I stammered. ‘Think, Sally-Anne think,’ I said to my self. Then the voice came in my hed. ‘Say its for Tracy. Tracy sent you to fetch it. Her scar is weeping.’

‘Tracy tolled me to fetch some,’ I said, standing up strait and tall. ‘Her scar is weeping.’

‘Oh, yes…. quick then, Sally-Anne, dont jus stand there!’ said the nerse, ‘or sheyull blede all over the shetes and we carnt be having that.’

I hurried along the coridor. My hart was thumping in my throwt. ‘Thanks, LittelBaby,’ I wispered. ‘Your so clever.’ My bag bumped on my back with all those stowlen things. I was brething hard. This was it. No going back. I woud have to leve strait awey. Uther wise Tracy woud tell them she dident need the cottern wool and that it was a lie what I had said.

Then, I coudent bileve it, but Zoe stopped me as I was pushing opern the glars dor to leve. ‘Sally-Anne, a werd,’ she called. I went over to her. ‘Your jue date is a week from tomorro,’ she said, ‘so from tomorro I woud like you to start staying here over night, jus in case you go in to laber.’

‘Ok,’ I said. Anuther contracshun was starting but with a super human effert I manijed to smiol niceley. ‘Shall I bring my nightie…and my tooth brush?’ My hart was thumping so hard I thort I woud drop down ded.

‘You bring what ever you like, Sally-Anne,’ she said, ‘but you know we also prervide evry thing you coud need.’

I practicly ran all the way to Duncans flat. The contracshuns were becoming all most unbareable. Luckerly thogh there were gaps in bitween them so I coud have rests from the pane.

Duncan terned up soon arfter, as I had phoned him. He had a shoe box. It was luvley. Big and quite strong. ‘Carry cot,’ he said with a smiol.

‘Thank you, Duncan,’ I said, tuched. I pored him some tea. He is a sweet persen. Often pepol dont think he is, as thay think he looks like a bit of a thug with his funny hare stile and his weerd tattoos what were done by a drunken and wastid artist. But onist, he is a kind persen. And he makes me laugh, and laugh. I took owt the blankits from my bag, and tucked them into the shoe box. It looked really luvley, like a rele baby bed. I sihged looking at it. It was so sweet. I tried to magine what LittelBaby Sprinkles woud look like in it. I dident really know, but I thort she woud look sweet, really sweet.

‘Have you got the stuff then?’ arsked Duncan.

‘Yeh, yeh, I have,’ I said. ‘Baby gros and cottern wool and wipes and stuff.’

It was completley dark by then. We left the flat and walked and walked, along the coast rode. ‘It dident seem this far the uther day,’ I said. I was so tiyerd. I kept having to stop and hold on to the metel ralings, looking owt to sea and groning.

‘Come on, Sally-Anne,’ he kept saying. ‘You can do it, we need to get there, Iyuv got the key.’

‘But it herts, Duncan,’ I said, fiyuling desprit. The pane was terribel. I coud hardly walk. It felt like there was a grate preshur bitween my legs, like the baby was going to shoot owt. I was walking along with my legs apart. Lucky it was dark as I must of looked like a duck wodderling along.

‘Come on,’ he said to me. ‘You can do it. We gotta get there.’

He had a plastic bag over his arm with a bottel of water, a towel, a slepeing bag, some tea bags, and a bag of pop corn. ‘Come on, Sally-Anne,’ he pleedid, as I stopped to rest again, a wave of pane shuddering thrugh me. ‘If thay find us, thayull get the baby of you.’

That made me rush. I all most ran, but not quite. I pushed my self to follow him. We reched the car park. It was empty. We entered the sandy lane and went thrugh the gorse bushis and brackern to wards the row of beach huts. It was only abowt seven therty, but it was pitch black. ‘Dont wurry,’ said Duncan, ‘Iyuv broght a torch, and a slepeing bag and some tea. Weyull be warm as towst.’

I startid losing it then, and hardly member eny of the next two or three awers. I was owt of my fase. Triping all most. I do member holding the worn rale, going up the woodern steps, the flaky paint coming of in my hand. I member moning and groning. I member not being comfterbel eny way I moved. Not on my back, not neeling up, not holding on to the cubberd. It was horribel. Agerny. I carnt discribe it to you eny uther way.

I member Duncan poring tea into a mug and handing it to me. I took two sips and then ran to the sink to throw up. My boddy coudent cope with eating or drinking eny thing. It had to do this job it had to do wich was getting the baby owt. The gaps bitween waves of pane were so small now, it was like one long pane. Jus pane, pane, pane and no way owt. I thrashed abowt and yelled. And then scremed. I member thinking its not fare that wimin have to do this and men dont ever have to do it. I wished I had been born a boy, not a gerl.

Then, I jus scremed and threw my self arownd, trying to iscape the pane. ‘I carnt stand it, I carnt stand it eny more,’ I yelled.

‘Shoud I phone for help?’ Duncan arsked.

‘Yes, no, yes…no…I dont know,’ I cried. I cried and cried and coudent here him eny more. I saw him on his phone but I dident care. The dor blew opern arfter a wiol. I coud hardly see, but I knew uther pepol had come in. I was neeling up on the slepeing bag, clinging on to the cubberd. Some one put a brething thing over my fase. Anuther persen, a nerse I think, tolled me to push, hard. I said I was pushing hard. ‘No your not, your not pushing at all. You have to try really hard, like you need to have a very big poo.’ I kind of got it arfter that and startid to push like I was having a big poo. Arfter a fiew times, I felt a very strong stinging pane, and the nerse said, ‘yes, jus like that, one more, you can do it’ and I pushed again and there was a flobberling fiyuling and I knew I had done it and the baby was owt. The nerse cut the cord and I jus lay back on the flor and shut my eyes. Then the uther nerse talked to me, and helped me and washed my fase and held my hand.

I dident realise, but as soon as that cord was cut the ferst nerse took the baby owt of the dor and left with her. I never even got to see her. I never even got to tuch her, or speke to her, or cuddel her.

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Wantababy: Chapter 7

Chapter 7.

Duncan and I woud go to the beach. We woud sit and look at the waves and the gulls and the bowts. Then we woud practise are darncing. I did ballay and he woud copy me and do ballay too. Some times pepol woud wotch us in quite a crowd and laugh in dilight because we were so good at are darncing. Arfter, I woud hug Duncan because I loved him so much and he woud wisper in my ear, ‘I love you Sally-Anne and I love LittelBaby Sprinkels.’

I want to talk more abowt love. Pepol in movies, and in books probly, but I dont read meny books, thay are all weys talking abowt love. Its a big thing. Meny pepol woud say it is the most inportent thing. But what is it? My love for LittelBaby grew in big chunks like…oh I dont know how to discribe it…like I was being run over by a massiv lorry again and again. I was flatterned by it. I will tell you how one of the chunks happerned. It was abowt five munths in to being pregnunt. It was erly july.

I had wandered thrugh the town and owt the uther side, up the hill and up a track by a corn fiyeld. At ferst I was skipping but arfter a wiol I walked stedily. I walked sloer and sloer as the parth got steeper. There were flowers on the sides of the parth, and a fiew butter flies and bees. I stopped to look at a partikly luvley butter fly. It was blue and black and yello and wite. So intricut and simetricle. I said ‘Butter fly,’ like the bunny in Bambi says it. ‘Budder fly! Budder fly!’

Then I said it sloly. ‘Butter fly, butter fly.’ I loved the werd. It was jus so right for the butter fly. Then I thort, ‘Oh, LittelBaby will love butter flies. She will say Butter fly!’ I imagined her saying it and all of a suddern I coud see her, as if I was seeing into the fiucher. She was very small, in my arms, with soft blond hare. She was pointing to the Butter fly in wunder. ‘Butter fly,’ she said. Oh, she was so sweet and so clever! The werld was all new to her, like a big beautifle gift to be un rapped. We stared at the Butter fly for a wiol. There was no rush. Time jus parsed very slo. We were in a bubbel of happy ness. We looked at the wings and antennas of the butter fly. It was so so delicut. Its like I looked at the baby looking, and I coud see thrugh her fresh eyes and see it propely with owt all the lares of grime that my eyes have on them from years of living. My hart suffered a big pang, an ake of love. I felt my self tumbel. Down down, like Alis in to the hole. It was scary, and all most sick making. It was so strong. Like drugs.

And normerly we are all stuck in time to gether, arent we? We carnt iscape owt of this particuler secund what we are all in. But when I thort abowt LittelBaby I felt like I had iscaped. Its like I stepped side weys in to anuther werld wich is not guverned by the same rules, like graverty probly dusent ixist there neether. I was not held by time eny more. I was fiyuling some thing aynshunt and misterius.

Eny way, Mr and Mrs Collins came again a fiew weeks later. This time I had no warning. I was jus looking at a magazine, siting at a tabel of ladies who were painting, and a voice bihind me said, ‘Hello, Sally-Anne.’

I terned rownd. She was holding a big parsel, rapped in pink and perple tishoo paper. She held it owt to wards me. ‘Sally-Anne, this is for you,’ she said. I knew what she was trying to do. It was kind of obvius. I coudent be rude. I stood up and took the parsel, and said ‘Thank you Mrs Collins.’ I dident mene for it to sownd so dull, but it did sownd dull. The man was hovvering bihind her. His hare was so oyly it looked wet. He looked like a sele who has popped his hed owt of the sea.

‘I hope youv bene kepeing well,’ she said. ‘I hope evry thing is going well for you.’

It sowndid like she had been rihersing what to say for days. My eyes were drawn to her waste. It got tighter and skinier the more mine grew bigger and stronger. Her blond strekes looked even more fake than bifore. I cort her eyes trying to look in side my tummy again. I held the parsel in frunt of my tummy, as a baryer to her gaze. I dident want the baby fiyuling the look. I had to prertect her.

‘Sally-Anne,’ said the lady. ‘We carnt afford to have eny funny bisness, do you under stand?’ She looked at me quite fiersly, right into my eyes. ‘This baby menes a lot to me and ….my husbund. We need this baby. We have wated a long time for him.’

Stupid fool. She still thort the baby was a boy. I thort abowt her saying that a lot arfter werds. The way she said ‘me and….my husbund,’ made me think thay were not married. I was not even shure thay knew each uther that well. I jus got that suddern flash you some times get, yeh, where you know some one is lying.

‘So look arfter the littel chap for us, wont you?’ She smiold with a wurried frown.

There was a pawse. Then I had to say it. ‘Its not a boy,’ I said. ‘Its a gerl. She is a gerl.’ I opernd my hand and let the parsel drop. There was no tinkel of braking glars at least. It jus flumped to the floor. A dress, probly. A dress that woud not fit me. I walked of to the loos. I sang ‘Black berd singing in the ded ell night‘ softly to the baby. When I got back, the lady had gone. The parsel was on the tabel, unopernd. I unrapped it. It was not a dress. It was a large silk scarf, paterned with swirly shells. There was also a box of fansy chocolats. I put them back in the rapping and stuffed them in my bag. I woud give them to my muther. No sense wasting them.

On my way home that day I said ‘Narsty Lady,’ again and again, until it became NarstyLady, NarstyLady. I coudent skip and I coudent even hi five the beautifle new conker tree leaves because I felt so cross with NarstyLady.

All thrugh july I was in like a night mare. I knew I dident want eny one laying there hands on my baby but I knew I needid help with giving berth. If I tolled them I wantid to kepe her what woud happern? I had no idea. May be thay woud forse the baby owt and take her of me. I dident know who to trust. Fler had been the kindist, all weys had time to have a littel chat with me, but she had all redy had her babies at the end of June and had left the center with her wodgis of muny. I wundered if my friend Jess, or may be Liz, woud help me give berth. Some times when Liz plattid my hare she woud wisper in my ear: ‘Sally-Anne, you are a luvley persen.’ She was kind but a bit of a goody goody. I dident know if she woud brake rules for me and if I arsked her what I shoud do, she might run and tell Zoe because we are tort that we coud never give berth on are own. If she tolled Zoe then thay woudent let me owt juring those larst weeks of wating, and I woud never get awey.

‘Coud I may be take a trane some where where I coudent be fownd?’ I thort. I did go on a trane once with my dad when I was abowt five. We went to a wiold life park because it was my berth day. We saw kangaroos and a jirarf and some norty munkies wich threw things at us. But it was so long ago that I coudent member how we bort the tickits nor nuthing abowt how to do it or wich trane to get on. I dident think I coud do it on my own. I probly woud get of at the rong plase and end up some where dangerus and have the baby on a strange plat form or in the tickit offis.

So I kept my secret to my self. I felt very alown. I wantid to say some thing to some boddy, but there was no boddy. There was no use telling my mum who had not even clocked that I was pregnunt. She never notised eny thing because she was to bisy moning abowt her pane killers and sending me owt for her Tramadol, Oxycodone, Solpadine, Insulin and all those uther things she needed.

One day I was sitting on the settee drinking cold chocolat milk and I did arsk her, I said, ‘Mum, when I was born, what was it like? For you I mene?’

She dident even look at me. She jus said, ‘You popped owt, Sally-Anne, no bother. You jus slid owt. It dident even hurt much….but then again, Iyud had your sisters and your bruther by then.’

She wotched telly a bit more. Then she said, ‘If you ever have a baby, Sally-Anne, I woudent worry, it dusent even hert much.’

My tummy was getting bigger. The center previdid luvley flowery dressis in soft cottern. I chowse a brigt grene one and a pink one and a oringe one with pink flowers what no one else semed to want. I loved them. My big sisters, Elsie and Jo, came to visit, but they never stay for long. Thay are all weys disgustid by the state of the plase. They opern the rustid up windos, put a wash on for mum and make a mele for her, then they leve again for a fiew munths. Thay dident notise I was pregnunt eether. And thay dident say what a good job I am doing with Mum. Thay never do.

All thrugh Orgust, I was still wurrying abowt how to get the baby owt of me with owt giving her up. I kept thinking, ‘Soon, Sally-Anne, its soon. You have to come up with a plan, some sort of plan.’ I felt a mild panic inside, but how ever much I racked my brane, I couldent come up with eny thing. What shoud I do? How shoud I do it? I thort again abowt arsking my muther. But if I tolled her, she woud say that if I promised I woud give them the baby then thats what I must do. I think. Some times I jus wunder if she woud want to go owt and buy booties and baby gros. But you carnt buy booties and baby gros for a baby that will be taken awey from you.

Thay kept a very clowse eye on me at the center, more and more. I think thay coud see that I was geting more and more dremy. Its like I was in anuther werld. A werld that is cushuned from this werld. Evry thing was soft. The owt lines of things were fuzy. I felt a constunt warmth and joyus fiyuling in all my boddy and mind, exept when I was panicking abowt what to do.

One day in erly Septemba Zoe called me into her offis. She was waring a soft cash mere rap thing like a ponsho wich was like an olivey grene culour. She pulled it arownd her as it was geting slightly chilliyer. She had pulled her grey shete of hare back into a bun. She had also painted brown eye brows over her eye brows. It looked a bit weerd, I thort. ‘Sally-Anne,’ she said. ‘One of the ladies tells me you are talking abowt ‘your baby.’ You do member you have to give the baby up as soon as it is born?’

I looked down into my lap. ‘Yes,’ I said, trying to kepe my voice stedy. I realised it was time to be an actriss. I had to act like I dident want the baby. Very confusing acsholy seeing as how I did want the baby very very much.

‘Some boddy else said that you were signing to the baby all day,’ she said like acuzing me.

Dam, that must of been Ella herd me in the showers.

‘Well,’ I said, looking up at her, ‘even babies who are going to be givern awey….sold….need to be sugn to!’

I had said it more hotly than I ment to. That is what happerns with me. I carnt cuntrol how things come owt. She had narroed those grene eyes and tiltid her hed to the side as she rigardid me. ‘Jus be care full, Sally-Anne,’ she said softly. ‘Try not to get….moshunly in volved…with the baby. Do you under stand? It will only hert later.’

I wantid to tell her it was too late, it all redy hert. And I wantid to ask what moshunly ment. Is it jus abowt moving arownd? Evry time you walk arownd thats moshun, isent it? And the baby comes with me when I walk, obviusly, derr, so we must be moshunly in volved. But I jus shook my hed and said, ‘No, I wont,’ and stood up. She opernd the dor for me and wotched me go. But arfter that moment, I felt like evry nerse in the plase was following me, wotching me, kepeing tabs on me. I woud see them ticking boxis on there charts when I went to the toilet, when I ate up my food, when I went to drawing clars. It made me feel like I was choking.

The next time I bort donuts of Duncan, it was a clowdy but windy, warm day. We walked of to gether to buy chips and sit on the beach with them. The tide was owt. I looked arownd. No one was nere us. Jus some toddlers with there mum digging a hole in the sand wey over by the sea and beach umbrelas flaping in the wind and bits of randerm rubish blowing along the shore. ‘Duncan,’ I said. I stopped. I was scared to say it.

‘Yes, Sally-Anne,’ he said.

I said it anyway. ‘I dont want to give them the baby. I want to kepe the baby.’

Duncan frowned a bit and popped anuther chip in his mowth. ‘Well….have you tolled them?’ he arsked, wiping his hands on his jeans.

‘No. No, I carnt,’ I said. ‘Thay woudent be happy. I met the parents. Thay woud be angry with me.’

‘Hmm,’ he said. ‘Yes, thay probly woud.’

I cried. He pulled a napkin owt of his pockit and gave it to me.

‘Thayuv pade lots of muny for her, and thayuv gone to lots of ….well, thats not true, a bit of….hassel. But I carnt give her to them. I hate them.’

He hugged me and buried his fase in my neck. I held tight onto his mussly arms. He is so cumferting. I wotched a lady going parst with a littel kiddie. She was so sweet, running arownd picking up strands of sea weed, in pink spotty wellie boots and a pink denim jackit and a littel sun hat and tiny sun glarsis.

‘Are you shure you dont want to do it, like for the muny?’ he said.

‘Duncan, I am quite shure,’ I said. ‘I have never really seen the point of muny.’

‘OK,’ he said. He lit a fag and looked owt to sea. ‘So, what you gonna do?’ he arsked.

‘I dont know,’ I said. ‘I have to get the baby owt on my own.’

‘When is it jue?’ he arsked.

‘In like two weeks, like eny minit now.’

Duncan took my hand in his and kissed me on my cheke. ‘Dont worry, Sally-Anne, Iyull think of some thing.’

The next day I got there at five as he was finishing his shift. Big Steve took over from him, grumbling as ever. Duncan hung up his aprun and came and put his arm thrugh mine. ‘Where we going?’ he arsked.

‘To the end of the pier to see the seles?’ I said.

‘OK,’ he said. As we walked he carried on, ‘Sally-Anne, Iyuv had a good idear. My mates mum has a beach hut…could you have the baby in a beach hut?’

I thort abowt it. Beach huts are kind of nice. Woodern, paintid, with a kettel. ‘Yes,’ I said. ‘A beach hut. Why not? I can do that. At least, I think I can. I have never given berth bifore so I dont know what its like.’

‘I will get the key,’ he promised.

The next day, it was a munday and his day of, so we met at one therty and walked abowt harf a mile up the far beach, parst the car park and along the sandy lane thrugh the gorse bushis to the long row of brigtley painted huts. Duncan finerly stopped at a grene one. ‘This is it,’ he said.

I looked at it. ‘Yeh, itul do,’ I said. ‘But its getting cowlder. Dont babies have to be kept warm?’

‘You can cuddel her to kepe her warm,’ he said. ‘We can take lots of blankits.’

We endid up at Duncans flat again. Big Steve was still owt werking, so we did sex, then Duncan got up to get a beer. I lay on his bed signing ‘Oh dragen fly, with your wings so blue, where do you jerney your hole life thrugh?’

Duncan came back with the beer. ‘You know, Sally-Anne?’ he said.

‘Yes?’ I replied.

‘You really carnt sign! Not at all.’

I propped my self up on my elbow. I was truly suprised. ‘Can I not? Not like really? Dus it sownd terribel?’

‘Terribel,’ he said.

‘Oh,’ I said and snugeled into his showlder. ‘Never mind. I can darnse.’

‘Oh, yes,’ he said, ‘you can darnse.’

‘And you can darnse to.’

‘Yes, I am brillyunt at darncing.’

We laughed because we know hes not really brillyunt, hes just quite good.

‘And LittelBaby loves my signing.’

‘Yes,’ he said, ‘LittelBaby Sprinkels loves you.’

We had reched Septemba. Sitting on the warm stownes on the beach, I stroked my huj tummy. The sun was making me slepey. Children were making sand carsels nere me, but when I shut my eyes there laughter sowndid far off. I herd the waves on the shore, rusling the pebbels quiertly, like the sea was stroking the land, like saying ‘dont worry, hush now, evry thing is good, you can slepe.’ I brethed in time with the waves. In owt, in owt… I dont know how long I sat there, but I was a ware that bihind my shut lids there were spots of black. One spot was larger than the uthers. It grew and then vanished, and anuther black spot grew in its plase. This carried on for a wiol. Arownd the black there was a bright grene culour, all most yello. This terned to a mauve culour. It was really pritty. I wundered why I had never discuvered this bifore. I wantid to stay there for ever with these pritty things pulsing in my hed. Then, owt of the blue, I herd a voice. It was sweet and piure. It was clere like a littel ringing bell. It said, ‘Show me… show me….. show me.’

I all most stopped brething. I all most opernd my eyes to see if eny one was there, but then I dident bother because I coud tell that this voice was coming from in side me. Only I coud here it. It was like really, majic. I had not really bileved in majic til then, but I bileved it now. I said in my mind, ‘Show you what?’ and the voice came again: ‘Show me the werld. Show me, show me.’ The voice was there and it wasent there. Its hard to explane. Its like the noise of the waves was like the ‘show’ bit of it, but the ‘me’ bit was coming from in my hed.

I was sitting there on the hard pebbels, dilighted with this darling voice. It was like mapel sirup what we have on pang cakes at the center, it was that sweet. I wantid to lisen and lisen. Bifore long thogh, I herd feet crunching on the pebbels and I opernd my eyes. Some teenagers were running along the shore to gether with a beautifle bownding collie. The spell was broken.

Arfter that, I made time evry day to go to the shore and lisen to the waves and hope to here the littel voice. Often it came. It maniged to say more complicatid things to me. The therd time, it said, ‘Let it be, we can be free.’

‘Free?’ I arsked it.

‘Yes, free, free as a berd.’

‘How?’ I arsked.

‘To gether,’ it said, ‘we can fly.’

I looked arownd this time, as the voice was so lowd. I coudent bileve that these things coud jus come owt of my hed. I realised it must be the baby talking to me. I woud never be abel to come up with such randerm things. I am a bit of a dum dum, I know it, pepol have tolled me so often. But this voice was so lilting, and so sensitiv. Its like it coud ditect things that my mind coud not. My mind often closis down for tricky problerms, like maths. But this voice was not scared. It was brave and exitid abowt the wunders of the werld and wantid to under stand them and werk them owt. I thort the baby must be really very clever to have fownd a way to talk to me. Or may be uther pepol who have babies in side them also have this happern? I dident know. I wantid to ask the uther pregnunt ladies but I was afrayd thay might laugh at me. They certunly never menshuned hereing eny thing there baby might be saying.

In fact, often thay said things that really suprised me, like ‘Carnt wate for the littel bugger to come owt, want to be done with it.’ I winsed when I herd things like that. Dident thay know there babies coud here and under stand evry thing?

I had stopped eating pop corn. I dident want it eny more. The littel voice tolled me to find frute. Frute and berries and jusis. Evry day I picked black berries from the bushis nere my howse or the brambels on the coast parth. I ate appels from the trees in are nayburs garden. And I wantid fish. I woud go to the chippie and jus arsk for the fish. One day, I was on the shore for awers, and the sownd of the waves terned into ‘Fish, fish, fish, fish,’ until I got up and all most ran down the shore, up the woodern steps and along the strete til I got to the fish shop. I went in and arsked for a big slab of hadderck. I went home and fried it in a pan, in some butter, and I ate it owt of the pan. ‘Whats that stink, Sally-Anne?’ moned my mum.

‘Its fish, Mum. Dyou want some?’

‘Nah, I dont like fish,’ she said.

‘Well, I dident think I did eether, but its not bad.’

I spent quite a lot of time at the center. Evry one had to so if you dident it looked saspichers. We had yoger clarses, and art clarses. I liked the yoger teacher. She had a very low, carm voice wich LittelBaby liked. She tolled us when to brethe in and when to brethe owt. Its kind of rilaxing to have some one else telling you when to brethe. You can hand over the rispons erbility and jus obay, in a carm way. One lessern, she said, ‘Sally-Anne, you are very good at yoger. Look at you, in that beautifle triangel pows.’ The uther ladies came owt of there pows and looked at me. I stayed in it, twisting my boddy up to the sky, and stretching my hand up, and looking up. I was happy. It is not often that eny one tells me I am good at some thing.

Ha, well now I am good at some thing. And even if it is only being a triangel, well, thats better than being…a blob..or a…oh, think Sally-Anne, what is it better than being? A twat. Yes, its better than being a twat or being a poke in the eye with a sharp stick.

Mostly pepol tell me Iyum no good. Evry day of my life Iyuv had pepol tell me Iyum no good. And I bileved them. It was true arfter all. I dropped things, and tripped over things, and fergot things. But get this, the yoger teacher tolled me I was a creativ moover. I liked that. A creativ moover. I thort may be it was like being a darncer. I did all weys love wotching pepol darnce. And I loved doing my darnsing on the beach but Iyud never been to a ballay. I wished I coud go.

Arfter the class, I squeezed my tummy jently with my rists and arms, and wispered to the baby in my mind, ‘LittelBaby, I will take you to the ballay. I will take you to the theater. I will take you to see Billy Elliot, and Mary Poppins, and I will take you to see the museums in Lunden, the dinasors. I will even take you one day, if you help me get my pars port, to see that volcano plase what got buried under the larva, oh, whats it called? Not Rome, not Vennis, the uther one…. I will, I promise you I will.’

It was a Wensday in early octoba. I had my wekely helth check. Fler had come back to the center with a big bag of her late pregnuncy clothes for me. I had on some of her soft bluey dungarees. I ate my vitermins, then I iscaped arfter painting, saying I needid to have a walk. I hurried along in the ortum wind, hed down. Leves were running along the pavement with me. Thay were going the same way as me. It was weerd. It was as if thay were accumpanying me. The really funny thing was, if I stopped, thay stopped and like swuwled arownd me. I jus stood there, wotching them werling abowt. ‘Am I may be going mad?’ I arsked my self.

‘No, your not,’ said LittelBaby. ‘Your the only sane one. And you can cuntrol the leves, thats brillyunt. You are a cunducter.’

I loved that idea. Shes so clever. I walked with my hed held high, cunducting the leves with my hands. It was the best fun ever. LittelBaby giggerled with me. The sun kept braking thrugh the clowds and making parts of the grey sea shine brigt wite, all most too brigt to look at, and making the leves shiney because thay were wet. I bort mums donuts from Duncan and we had a snog bihind the van but he coudent stop werk til six as it was Steves day off.

I got an ice cream, with lots of sprinkels, and startid walking back to the center. A skinny chap in a track soot, with thin strands of wite hare blowin arownd his hed, was approching me at an angel from the sea. Oh no, not again. It was that same inter fereing nutter as bifore, the crazy stranger. He said to me, quiertly, in a bit of a funny voice, and again I coud hardly hear him what with the wind: ‘Your baby is Not Normel.’

I hiccupped pane fully on my ice creme. ‘What do you mene, Not Normel?’ I said, panik rising in my brest. Did he mene she woud be born with only one arm, or twelv fingers or some thing?

‘Shes very speshul,’ he wispered. He had teres streming down the rinkols in his fase from the wind. ‘Your baby has been made from the deeyenay of anshunt pepol who were not the same as us.’

What a fuckin nutter. I terned awey from him and startid walking the uther way. He was still there thogh, jogging along biside me. ‘Sally-Anne,’ he hissed, ‘you know that we are all homo sappiens….’

I shook my hed. ‘Leve me alown,’ I said sharpley.

He cupped his hands arownd his mowth to stop the werds getting swollowed by the wind. ‘Well, we are. Its a tipe of human. But meny yeres ago, thowsands of yeres ago, there was anuther tipe who were called homo neyander tharlis. Your baby is one of them. Shes a cone.’

I dident know what those long werds were. I dident know what deeyenay was, nor neyander thingy. I dident know what he ment by cone. I jus wantid him to shut up and go awey.

‘Look Mister,’ I said, practickly choking on a bit of ice cream what had gone down the rong way, ‘My baby is a baby, thats all. Shes not a neyander thingy or a…’ I waved my ice-cream cone at him, ‘…cone. I dont care abowt her being all those things you said, I dont see it makes eny diffrence….so, so jus leve me alown.’

‘It dus make a difference,’ he said. God, he was hard to shake off, CrazyStranger. I was getting mad with him. ‘You need to know this!’ he showtid, clutching my arm. ‘There is only one uther homo neyander tharlis baby in the werld, Sally-Anne. You have one of only two. A lot of pepol are very very intrestid in your baby and how her brane werks.’

‘Well, thay can bugger of, to,’ I said. ‘I dont bileve eny of it eny way. And I dont even know what neyander thingy menes. My baby is jus my baby,’ but even as I said it, I realised she wasant my baby, she was the centers baby. That made me cry. Stingey teres startid jetting owt of my eyes. ‘And shes a brillyunt baby.’

‘Yes, I think she probly is. Oh, plese lisen to me,’ he said, looking alarmed at my teres. I kept walking on, my eyes fermly to the frunt. He was a narsty con man. You do get a lot of them on the sea frunt trying to make a bob or two. He was still trotting along biside me.

‘You are a stranger!’ I showtid at him. ‘And I dont talk to strangers!’

‘Your baby is hyper speshul, Sally-Anne. Your baby is an anthoperlojical marvel. Plese….’ he reached owt to me with a card, ‘Plese take this, and call me if you ever need help.’

I rowled my eyes, took the card reluctuntly, stuffed it in my frunt dungaree pockit, and swung awey from him. He aloud me to go and I brethed a sigh. Thank god. What a loser.

Later I had a shower at the centre. I stood under the water, with my eyes shut and the water running over my hed. It was hot and dilishus. I sang, ‘intsy wintsy spider, climes up the water spowt, down comes the rane, and washed the spider owt.’ When I got to ‘Owt comes the sun shine and dried up all the rane,’ LittelBaby was nocking jently but rithmicly on my belly. I laughed and said, ‘you like that song best, dont you, LittelBaby?’ My bump suddernly went hard, really hard. I felt a strong pulling, down there. It made me garsp. When I came owt of the shower, I jumped, because Maria was there, putting high lites in her hare in the mirrer. She jus looked at me, her hed tipped to the side.

‘You know some thing?’ she said.

‘No, what?’ I said.

‘You like really, really carnt sign.’

I was glad it was Maria, because she dident care that I loved my baby. She woud never say. Eny of the uthers might have tolled on me, but Maria is yung and hates the unit and the nerses. She finds the hole job to anoying and woud rather be owt in joying her youth, drinking beer in the pubs. Wich is one thing we really are not aloud to do. Alcahol is banned. I dont care, because I never liked it eny way. I got dressed, and the strong pulling thing happerned a few more times. I dident know but I thort probly it was the baby coming.

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Wantababy: Chapter 6

I never use to under stand when pepol talked abowt love. I thort it was jus like happy ness. I thort I loved my mum, or my sisters bifore thay left home or even my bruther even thogh he was mene, because I was happy to be with them, happy to make rice pudding with them, or giggerl with them abowt some thing on the telly. I thort lovers were like that. I thort thay jus injoyed being with each uther and that was what love was. But in the garden of the center, in that hamuck stretched bitween two trees, I lay, with naycher bersting all arownd me, as it was the munth of may. Ooh, that rimes, lay…may, may be I am a powit.  Eny wey, humming to LittelBaby, and fiyuling her riggel her littel lims with plesher, I felt things giving way in my brane and my hart, letting go, like those grate big aynshunt glasiers crawling thrugh inormus vallys like what Mr Oxburg tolled us happerned thowsunds of years ago. I felt a woosh wooshing, like a big wave pulling me along with it. It jus scooped me up and rushed me along. It was not to be cuntrolled. I realised I coudent fight it and dident want to fight it. I tumbeled into a deep rilax. I felt a sense of pease. My legs and arms felt floppy, right to the tips of the fingers. My in sides felt warm and slo, like treakel or huny. My eyes were harf shut. The sun glittered and flashed thrugh my lashes. My breth came slo and deep and reguler.

I magined how the baby woud look all redy. She was small, tiny, but perfict. Her spine was perfictly curved but later woud be completley strait. Her tiny thum was at her lips. Her fase was thin, her cheke bowns so beautifle, her mowth all redy sensitiv and smily. She was so sweet, jus so so sweet, I carnt tell you. She was the best baby in the werld. I wantid her to be owt so I coud cradel her in my arms and hold her tight to me. But I also dident want her to be owt, as uthers wantid to cradel her and I dident want them to. I woud lie in the hamuck and wisper to my self in time with the swinging, ‘mine, mine, mine. You are mine, not theres, you are mine.’

Evry time I thort abowt her, I had to shut my eyes and take a deep breth in. I held the imij in my mind, cradled in pink clowd. I stroked my tummy and sagn and sagn. The more I sagn, the more I wantid to sign. The notes and werds jus tumbold from my lungs and mowth. I coud fiyul my voice in my tummy as I smoothed it. I knew the baby coud here it. I knew she wantid to lern to sign along with me. She twistid her boddy in dilight when I startid to sign.

She coud talk to me. Not in werds exakly, but in cool breasiz wisling threw my brane. She woud nock, nock, jently in side me. She brane washed me. Juring thos nine munths, she made me wiold.

On Fridays I had the hole day off. Evry week. In bed on Thersday night I woud hug the baby in my tummy, hug her tight and say, ‘tomorro, littel baby, we are going to have tretes.’ I have all weys loved tretes. My muther, before my dad left, use to give me a littel sprig of lavender, a cuple of bits of chocolat, two hazel nuts fresh from the shell. Some times a thin strip of marzipan from a cake she was making. ‘Look, Sally-Anne,’ she use to say, ‘a littel trete for you.’

I loved these littel gifts more than eny thing, so I knew it was inportent for babies to have tretes. And I so wantid to be a good mummy, the best mummy, for my baby. That one Friday that I member more than eny uther day, I dressed in my fayvrit flowty dress of the time, wich was yello with big pink flowers and grene leves, put my oringe and black sun hat on, then bort a slice of cheese from the grocer under are flat, a roll from the baker and a big fat termarto from the man on the markit. I walked to the beach. I straddeled a brake water, looking owt to sea. No one was arownd, so as the sun came owt from bihind a clowd, I unbutterned my yello dress at the frunt and let my bump stick owt in the air. It felt so fresh with the cool breasiz blowing on my tummy. The sun shone thrugh my skin and I coud suddernly see thrugh my babys eyes. I magined the rich red and oringe light poring in to her muffold watery werld, and I took a long slo pease full breth. She loved this. She woud rigel as she got the hit of oxigen. I was so hungry, I ate the roll farst, and the cheese and the termarto. I was still hungry, so I went along the beach to wards the pier.

I took the stone steps up to the sea frunt and a skinny all most bald man in a thin grey cote peeled awey from the bench he was lening on and startid walking in step with me to wards the pier. I looked across at him. His mac was flapping in the wind. He did have a fiew strands of wite hair on his hed and a thick wite mustarsh and biyerd. I was wary. What did he want? ‘Dont wurry,’ he said owt of the side of his mowth. ‘Iyum not trying to scare you.’

That is a scary thing to say in its self. I walked farster, trying to shake him off. He walked farster too. ‘Dont rush of,’ he said, ‘plese.’ I thort he was probly a perv. I dident say eny thing, and I dident look at him again. I felt scared.

‘I jus want you to know some thing, some thing inportent,’ he said. He was spekeing quiertly and farst. I pulled my sun hat down over my eyes. I dident want to here him. ‘Your baby…is not jus…oh, how can I explane this?…not jus eny baby, Sally-Anne.’

I stopped walking. He stopped walking. We looked at each uther. Now I was really wurried. How did he know my name? I coud sware I had never seen him bifore in my life.

‘Sally-Anne,’ he said, ‘Iyum jus warning you, lots of pepol want your baby. Your baby is…speshul. Shes…not what you think…’

I garsped. How did he know my baby was a gerl? I thort only I knew that. The wind had got up and was whipping my hare into my mowth. I pushed it awey and said, ‘What do you mene? I know my baby is speshul, but…’

‘I mene,’ he said, sloly, ‘really, really speshul. And those pepol, that cupel, thayr not…’ He stopped talking as a bunch of lads were coming parst with cans of Speshul Brew, showting and shuving each uther. I thort, ‘This is too weerd,’ saw two nersis from the center nere the entranse to the pier, and rushed to wards them, ignoring the man.

Later I thort, ‘Oh Sally-Anne, you shoud of herd him owt. What was he going to say? Why did he think your baby was so speshul?’

I hedid up the pier to see Duncan. I had been going back to see him quite a lot. He was jus so funny and made me laugh evry time. I woud buy donuts of of him all most evry day, even thogh it was ferther than the baker. ‘A lot of pregnunt ladies come here for there donuts,’ he said. ‘Thay need them to grow there babies,’ he said.

‘I dont eat them much, its for my mum,’ I said.

One june morning I was up erly and dident have to be at the center til ten so, even thogh it was ferther, I went to get mums donuts from the pier. It was a gorjuss sunny day, so I skipped a bit. Duncan smiold when he saw me. ‘Hows Baby Sprinkels?’ he said.

‘Shes fine,’ I smioled too. ‘Shes been skipping.’

‘Skipping?’ he said.

‘Yes. She likes it.’

He said, ‘Your up erly.’

‘The erly berd catchis the werm,’ I said.

He laughed. ‘The werm being me,’ he said. ‘Hook, line and sinka. Dyou want to come owt for a coffee?’

‘Oh, ere we go!’ showtid Big Steve from over at the coffee mashine. ‘Youv only jus got ere. I dont know why I pay you eny thing!’ He rowled his eyes and moned, but heved his self to the frunt to take over making the donuts.

We sat in the caff opasit the entranse to the pier. I tolled Duncan abowt the weerd man in the flappy mac. He said, ‘Probly trying to sell you some thing.’

‘But he said my baby was speshul.’

‘Well, eny one can see that Baby Sprinkels is speshul!’ he said. ‘But he probly said that to flatter you and make you buy some thing,’ he said.

‘But…he dident have eny thing to sell,’ I said. ‘And he said my baby was a gerl. How did he know that?’

‘He had one in two charnsis of getting that right,’ said Duncan. ‘And eny way, how do you know that it is a gerl?’

‘I jus do,’ I said.

‘Dyou want to come up to my flat?’ he arsked.

‘May be anuther time,’ I said. ‘I got to take Mums donuts back then I got clarses from ten til like one.’

‘Well, come back later on then,’ he sujestid.

I came back at one therty. As soon as we got in the dor of his flat what he shared with Big Steve for the summer he lifted my shert and ran his hands over my boddy. ‘Sally-Anne,’ he said. ‘You are gorjuss!’

I laughed and said, ‘You are gorjuss too, Duncan from Dunkan Donuts.’

I squished his flesh in my hands. He was so big and sollid. We fell over to gether on to his settee and giggerled. I jus coudent stop laughing. ‘You is my littel Panda Bare,’ he said.

‘No, you is my big Teddy,’ I said.

‘You is my….Crocerdile,’ he said biting my neck.

‘No, you is my…..’ I coudent think of eny thing. It dident matter. Duncan was kissing me.

Arfter the kiss I had thort of some thing. ‘You is my rinoserus,’ I said.

‘Well, you is my blue wale,’ he said.

We did sex. It was much better than with Gary from the Garidge. For a start I coud aksholy fiyul Duncans penis going in and owt. And this time, I wantid it. In Garys Ford Focus, I wasant really sure if I wantid it or not. I dident say no, but I dident say yes neether. Plus, with Duncan, you got lots of kissing. He kissed me all over my boddy. I liked the back of my legs most. Made me tickel but in a luvley way. Also this time, we dident have to wurry abowt getting pregnunt because I was all redy pregnunt.

We had lots of giggerling fits to gether. Abowt being fat. Abowt bums being wobbley bobbley. Duncan is so big. Like a big bare. ‘My littel Panda,’ he woud say, ‘You is aaaaaaall……wobbly-bobbly!’ I felt fuzzy in side when he said things like this. It was better than a movie. To gether we felt in vinsabel. Like super man or some thing. Like in that film with all the super herows in it flying abowt bashing pepol in. We were like them.

Funny werds made us laugh, like vergina. Most times we woud end up screming with laughing and the man from the down stares flat woud come and bang on the dor and complane at us. I all weys scremed when Duncan prertended to be a shark and did the theme choon of jaws and then bit me on the leg. I woud push him hard and he woud fall of the bed, on perpus, and I woud tickel his fete and he woud screme a really high screme and I woud showt ‘your a gerl, your a gerl!’

He liked to phone me when he was right there in the room with me. It made me laugh to here Duncan saying ‘Hello? Is that Sally-Anne?’ in the phone in my ear and right next to me. Then I woud phone him and he woud anser with ‘Yeh? Phone sex hot line,’ wiol he was stroking my thy, wich made me laugh more. The best thing was darnsing with Duncan thogh. We jus loved darnsing and did it all over his flat. We were really good at it.

A bit later in june, when there were less clarsis as some teachers were on holiday, I was jus going owt of the resepshun airia arfter lunch, and Zoe called me over. ‘I have a littel job for you, Sally-Anne,’ she said. ‘You need to be kept bisy, I saspect.’

I said, ‘I dont mind, I like not doing eny thing, its pease full.’

She looked at me cradeling that baby. I think I looked a bit stowned with love. I tried to stop smioling and make my eyes look harder, less dremey. It was hard.

‘Its making pang cake batter for to night,’ she said.

‘OK,’ I said. I dont mind. Its easy, you jus brake eggs and por milk and bete the mixcher. I went of to the kitchins. Two wimin that I knew a littel bit, as thay did the same cooking clarses as me, were sitting on benchis at a long tabel meshuring flower owt. Anuther, Fler, was siting on a stool with a bowl on the bench in frunt of her, using a hand blender. I knew her, as she sat at my tabel at crafts. She was pregnunt with twins. I washed my hands at the sink and startid braking eggs in to a bowl. I werked and werked. I hardly notised the wimin, but then Fler showtid, over the noise of the blender, ‘How meny munths do you have to go, Sally-Anne?’

I looked up. Her long black hare had a bluey scarf tied rownd it. She all weys wore soft blue dungarees and wite sherts. She had a big nose, but a kind fase. She was skwotting on that stool with her legs wide apart arownd her inormus tummy. ‘Umm,’ in truth it was not a queschun I thort much abowt. I did not like to think of the end. ‘I think, abowt four munths. Thay tolled me end of octoba or erly novemba,’ I said. ‘How abowt you?’

‘Im jue in one week, end of june,’ she said.

‘Ooh,’ I said. ‘Soon.’

Her companyuns on the bench smiold. ‘You get more for twins,’ said one.

Fler smiold too. She took the blender owt of the mixchur and put it on a dish and pushed the batter to one side. ‘Im paying of a chunk of my howse this time. Larst time I put the hole diposit down.’

One of the bench ladies had stopped meshuring and was lening back having a strech. ‘What are you going to do with your muny, Sally-Anne?’

I stopped braking eggs. I stroked my belly quiertly. I dident want the baby to here eny of this. ‘Umm, I dont know yet,’ I wispered. I thort abowt telling these kind ladies that I did not want to sell my baby. But some thing scremed in side my hed: dont trust them, thay might tell Zoe, thay are part of the sistem, thay have been brane washed along with all of them.

‘Here,’ said BenchLady, pushing her three bowls of meshured flower to wards me. ‘Im of, done enugh.’

‘Hunh,’ I said, looking at the three bowls, ‘I only got two pare a hands, you know.’

The three women all laughed. I still dont know what it was I said. What did I say? I have only got two pare a hands.

‘So, come on, Sally-Anne, what are you going to do with the muny?’ arsked Fler again.

‘I might give some to my mum,’ I croked. ‘I coud help her buy a niew settee and a niew TV may be..’ In my mind I was yelling ‘Not really, not really, LittelBaby, dont worry, I wont be selling you to eny boddy.’

I said I had to go to the toilet, and I stood in side the cubikle, panting with the stress, stroking my tummy and humming, low and fiers, all my love for her. You know in those films when a man is going owt with two ladies, or a lady has two men, and she dusent tell them, I felt like that. I felt like I had been unfathe full to my baby. I sang ‘All the loving, I will give to you ou ou, all the loving, baby, Iyull be true.’

How coud those wimin give up there babies? I thort. Why did thay not fiyul desprit like me? How coud thay be so carm? What did thay see in muny? Jus paper notes, and coins. How coud that be eny substichoot for some thing so preshus and perfict as there baby?

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Wantababy: Chapter 5

Chapter 5.

I went and sat in the cool lobby and wotched the titchy silva fish flicking to and fro in there dark grene tank.

I saw the cuple coming thrugh the glars dors. I coudent help staring at them. I knew who thay were and I dident like them, strait awey. Thay had very shiney skin, shiney hare. He had glossy dark slicked back hare and wore thin rectanglar glarses with no frame. She had a high, tinny laugh. She had strekes of blond in her darker blond hare. It was very sleke, and kind of bent into big perfict curls at the botterm. He had his arm arownd her waste wich was held in with a sharp vilet belt with tiny jewls on it. Her soot was also a pale perple and tight at the waste. She wore very high heels in a shiney tan culour, like Queen Kate wore when she was yung and had jus had her babies. The ricepshunist pointed the lady to wards me. She click clacked over, her hand streched owt confidantly. I was sitting on a wite settee, but I got up, like Zoe had tolled me to. ‘Hello, Sally-Anne, luvley to meet you at larst,’ she said.

I dident say eny thing but I let her shake my hand.

‘Iyum Mrs Collins. And this is my husbund, Mr Collins,’ she said. ‘Are you well?’ she arsked. Her eyes went to my tummy. Thay stayed on my tummy. I coud tell she was trying to look in.

‘Yes, I am well,’ I said. I coudent stop the not liking her from being in my voice. I tried to smiol, but a lump was growing in my throte and I felt my eyes might cry.

The man cort up with her and held owt his hand too. He shook mine in his. He looked me in the eye. Then thay were both looking at my tummy. ‘Hes in there,’ she said and clarsped her hand to her mowth. Tears glissened in her eyes. ‘Are littel boy.’

I looked at her in suprise. I opernd my mowth to speak, but bifore I coud say eny thing the man said, ‘Yes. Wunder full…a mirikel even….’ He looked me in the eye. He crinkold up his eyes as thogh he was fiyuling my pane. ‘Thank you so, so much for helping us have a chiold.’

‘Its not a boy!’ I said. ‘Its a gerl.’

The woman looked at me with alarm. ‘What?’ She looked at her husband. ‘Who tolled her that? It is a boy, isent it?’

‘Yes, yes,’ he soothed her. ‘We chose the feet, us, darling, how coud it not be?’

I dident think being a gerl or boy was eny thing to do with the babys feet, but I dident tell them that.

I felt the lump in my throte get bigger. I knew I was going to cry. ‘Its not a boy!’ I said, angrily. Then I startid to cry and I got up and went to look owt of the windo at the big pine trees so thay woudent see. I thort to my self how thay jus dident look like a mum and a dad. I shut my eyes and tried to forse my brane to magine them holding my baby, but it was to hard. I coudent do it.

Thay went to wards the ricepshun airea. I coud here them talking to Zoe in wispers. I can here very well. Often when pepol think I carnt here them I acsholy can. I herd ….’bit of an idiot…’ Not very perlite of him to call Zoe that. He must be a mene man I thort to my self. I did not think thay woud be nice to there baby, if thay ever got a baby. I dident think thay diserved one, being like that.

I was still up set so I went owt to the garden and lay in the hamuck to fiyul more carm. I was getting good at iscaping in my hed. Evry time I closed my eyes and thort abowt LittelBaby, the pichers were there with a bang. I was on a hill top. Dark morlands and rocky owt crops surrowndid me.  A grey sea pummelled the tumbling stownes. A lone wind brushed the grarsis. Misterius beasts lumbered on the horizen. The calls of berds cercling over hed filled my brane. Clowds scuddid farst across the sky, making bars of shadow pars over the mor. I was sucked deep in but then some one woud disterb me and I woud wayken with a jump. It was as if it was a dreme, but more vivvid and more spooky, and as if I really was there.

Some times it was very cold as soon as I shut my eyes. I pulled fers arownd me as I peeked owt of the cave at the frozen wastes. Stalag mites hung from the entrunce to the cave. The vally lay still bifore me, holding its breth.

I was bicoming ink apasitatid by my vishuns. Reality faydid awey and even sterring the mixcher for cake, or beting eggs, or sewing butterns on to a cushen, I coud fiyul that wind, and the thret of the lumbering beasts. My hart woud thump with in me, and I felt huntid. Looking in the mirrer, my eyes seemed very deep in there sockits. The pupils had grown. My eyes were pools of dark. I scared even my self.

In one of my vishuns, I was climing a rocky parth. Brambels cort at my skin, for I was nakid. The parth was stepe so I was using my hands to pull on the rocks. I knew the way. I terned arownd a huj bowlder and fownd a chorky parth leding straight in to the hill, in to a cave. I felt sensashuns of pleshure. I went in. It smelt musty and smokey, but in a good wey. Animuls, and children and love. A fiyer flickered in the back. I burrowed in to soft piols of fers and slept.

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