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Endpoint
by Wendy Freebourne
Nikki guessed the two boys playing with cars on the Friday morning
boat train must be about nine and ten. They reminded her of her two.
They were big lads now, away at boarding school. Her eyes grew moist
watching. It had been a wrench to split up her family; just the three
of them. The boys were not getting what they needed in London and
she wanted more for herself too.
The train moved on through the Midlands. Soon it arrived in Euston.
Stewart was there to meet her, grinning and fidgeting like a guilty
schoolboy. Suddenly Nikki found him irritating, shallow. It must have
been at least three months since her last visit to London, although
Stewart had been up to visit her a couple of times. Nikki felt insecure
in the city she knew so well, adrift now. She had a big week ahead
of her too. Stewart was a home, a shelter.
Nikki noticed he had lost more hair; and put on some weight. Is this
what you call middle-aged, she thought. He reminded her of the fat
schoolboy from a childhood television serial. After two years together,
she was becoming aware of the contrast between them now. After decades
of being cuddly and mumsy, she had recently slimmed down. She was
growing her dark hair, kept short and practical for aeons, long and
wild. She actually felt sexier than she had done for years; she had
been dancing a lot lately.
Stewart drove to his new place in Bounds Green, nervously jabbering
about nothing. Nikki felt a little uneasy; she found herself wondering
what he had been up to, but chose not to ask. She had not seen his
new home. Stewart had reneged on his promise to join Nikki on Anglesey
and bought a house in London instead. Now he wanted her to move in
with him. They had originally planned to buy a home in Wales together.
Nikki was renting for the time being. She had let the boys' rooms
in her airy maisonette in Islington.
'It's very nice,' Nikki told Stewart as he showed her around, not
liking it at all. Stewart liked old and comfortable. Nikki liked modern
and clean. Stewart had bought a van load of brown furniture from a
second-hand shop in Hornsey. Nikki thought none of it fitted together,
not even the bits he had collected from her house while she was away;
the sofa and the Welsh dresser she no longer needed. A group of friends
had helped him paint the walls, badly, in garish colours.
The house stood at the end of an unimaginative terrace between the
railway bridge and the trunk road. 'The surveyor let me down,' Stewart
told her. 'Nothing I can do about it now. The outside wall has to
be shored up - with an iron girder.'
A fit metaphor for our relationship, Nikki thought. She stayed the
night. She thought about her rented farmhouse in Wales, the smell
of clean air, and felt claustrophobic.
Stewart berated her. 'You've abandoned me. I need you here in London.'
She slept badly. In the morning he was remorseful. They made love,
with Nikki on top. She sensed some reticence, as if he did not really
want it that way.
She was
putting off going to her own house, to sort things out there. She
knew it had to be done sooner or later. Nikki came down periodically
to act as a locum solicitor when her ex-partner, Martin, needed a
holiday. It was not work she enjoyed, but it paid well and financed
her new life for the time being, until Stewart made up his mind. In
fact, the work felt so alien to her now she found it hard to face
it at all. Nikki was glad she had sold her share of the practice to
their junior partner.
Nikki
also felt intimidated by the girls who were renting her spare rooms.
They found her occasional visits intrusive. Cat was going to America
soon, with her boyfriend, David, to live in one of those spiritual
communities. Zena was an artist. Nikki rang first. Cat answered the
'phone.
'I'll be over in
an hour. I thought I'd let you know.'
Cat sounded put out. 'Zena's away. I'm resting.' There was a pause,
then 'I think I better tell you. I had an abortion yesterday.'
'I am sorry. I'm glad you told
me.' Nikki felt shocked. She remembered the abortion she had when
she was nineteen, before she had the boys. Nikki felt again the loss
of her first, unborn child. She was angry at Cat. She knew how she
had suffered and how long it had taken her to get over it. She pushed
these feelings aside and prepared to leave.
Stewart dropped her off. 'I've got a few things to do, so I won't
come in.' He looked uncomfortable, in a hurry to leave.
Nikki was glad really. She wanted to get on.
Cat was in bed in her room. Nikki announced her presence and left
her alone. She sorted out the books and toys the boys would no longer
need; relics of their childhood. Her heart hurt as she grieved for
the passing of that time. Suddenly, Nikki remembered how she had felt
the morning after Aaron was conceived. She recognised that sensation
now; it was pleasing, comforting, familiar - a new life inside her.
She forgot about Cat's abortion.
For the next few days, Nikki was torn between longing for her pregnancy
and a real conviction she did not want to share parenting with Stewart;
he would only be a hindrance. Having a baby alone would be easier
than having a baby with him; but she could not face being a single
parent again anyway. This is ridiculous, Nikki thought. I haven't
even missed my period yet.
The next day, needing to talk to somebody, she rang her friend Heather.
'You've had the ah ha moment,
then?' Heather said. 'I had it with Melissa. A new soul arriving.'
'Yes, I had it with Aaron
too.'
She waited another
couple of days and then rang Stewart. 'I need to talk to you.'
'I know what it's about,' he
said and agreed to meet her for lunch.
Stewart arrived in her office looking scared. As Nikki saw in his
face that he did not want this, she also realised she had started
bleeding. She did not tell him. She felt disappointed, but stoic.
Through lunch Nikki argued
the pros and cons of the pregnancy with Stewart, enjoying his squirming.
'I knew it when we were
making love. You felt powerful, like you were sucking my seed out
of me.'
Just like him to
attribute the responsibility to me, Nikki thought.
Stewart fumbled and fidgeted. He avoided her eyes. Nikki wasn't letting
him off the hook. 'I'm not ready to have a child,' he finally told
her.
He was approaching
his fortieth birthday. Nikki had just had hers.
On the Friday Nikki rang Stewart. 'There is no baby. My period's come,'
was all she told him.
'I'm
so pleased. It's for the best,' he said.
'Yes, because we are over, Stewart. I don't want to go on with this.'
He did not protest.
'I'm going to sell my flat. I've
seen a house I like.' she told him. Nikki said goodbye to him.
She went back to Anglesey.
'By the way,' she asked when Cat rang, weeks later, about her final
rent payment. 'Why didn't you want to keep your baby? Not that it's
any of my business, really. I thought you and David wanted to start
a family soon?'
'The truth
is, I was having last-minute doubts about David and the community.
It's a big commitment. We rowed about it. It's OK now, though. But
I had a weak moment, a one-night stand with someone; he seduced me
really,' Cat told her. 'So I couldn't be sure who the father was.
I've not told David about the abortion. You won't say anything, will
you?'
'Of course not.'
'But now it's over with you and
Stewart, I thought I better tell you what really happened . . .'
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