Lies Lies Lies. Adele Parks

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СКАЧАТЬ not my point.’

      I felt the warmth of his body along the length of mine and yet I still shivered. ‘You’re serious?’

      ‘I love Millie so much. And you,’ he added swiftly. ‘I can’t bear to think that we’re not giving her everything.’

      ‘We do give her everything we can,’ I pointed out.

      ‘Other than a sibling,’ he countered.

      ‘Yeah but it’s not as though we tried to deny her that, it just hasn’t happened. It’s unlikely ever to because neither of us are getting any younger.’ And conceiving was never something we were good at. I don’t add that. We don’t talk about the horrors we went through to get Millie. It’s generally agreed that the pain of childbirth is forgotten once you hold the baby in your arms. In my case it was also the pain of years of trying to conceive.

      ‘We should make it happen. She’s so gregarious and loving. I can’t bear the idea of her missing out on having a sibling.’

      ‘Having a sibling isn’t always a bonus,’ I argued. ‘You’re not at all close to your sister.’

      ‘No, but you adore yours. I want Millie to have what you and Rose share.’ He turned to me and I saw fire in his eyes. I should have understood then that he wasn’t going to let the matter drop. He’s a very determined man when he wants to be.

      Stubborn, my mum says.

2

       Chapter 2, Simon

      The waiting room was chilly. The air-conditioning was a little too vigorous. It was bright outside so people had risked T-shirts and sun dresses, except for Daisy, she always felt the cold so she was sitting in her jacket. It looked like she was ready to make a dash for the door at any moment. It looked like a protest. Simon knew Daisy didn’t want to be there. He understood. He remembered the heartache associated with these sorts of places, certainly he did. And she was right, they were perfectly happy as they were, but his point was that maybe they could be happier still. Why not? Why settle?

      When bored, or nervous, or stressed, Simon had a habit of repeatedly tapping the heel of his foot on the floor. This had the effect of causing his whole leg to continually jerk in violent shudders. He never noticed he was doing it until Daisy reached out and put her hand on his thigh, calming him, silently asking him to stop. She did exactly that now. He stopped, picked up a newspaper and quickly flicked through it. There was nothing to hold his attention. Just reports of financial crises and politicians caught with their pants down, nothing new there. He put down the paper and started to whistle. He wasn’t aware that he was doing so until Millie giggled and began dancing to his tune, probably saving him from a swift reprimand from Daisy. Daisy always forgave his restlessness, his quirkiness, if it entertained Millie. Despite the vicious air-con he felt clammy. He could feel sweat prickle under his arms. God, he could do with a drink.

      He had persuaded Daisy here to visit the clinic on the understanding that they were just going to have a chat with Dr Martell, one of the country’s best fertility doctors, or reproductive endocrinologists, to give him the proper name. They were simply going to ask about their options, explore possibilities. That’s what he’d told her. But he’d lied. He’d already visited Martell ten days ago for a general health check, as well as a specific test of the health and fitness of his sperm. He wanted to get things moving. Many years ago, he had been told that his sperm was slow but in the end that hadn’t been a problem. It had been a case of the tortoise and the hare, Millie was proof of that. However, Daisy made a good point, he was aware that he was seven years older now than when they had conceived Millie, they both were, obviously. That didn’t necessarily mean they were out of the game though, did it? Simon was keen to know if there had been any scientific advancements since then, something that could give his boys a bit of an advantage, if you got the gist – or at least something that might level the playing field again. He was forever reading articles about the increase in the number of women having babies in later life. He thought that by taking the initiative and putting himself through the tests first, Daisy would be encouraged. He knew it was a lot to ask. The tests and possible subsequent treatments Daisy might require were significantly more arduous than anything he’d have to endure. IVF had been a slog. But it would be worth it.

      He stopped whistling, but Millie didn’t stop dancing. She was in a world of her own, clearly the music continued in her head. Maybe she was listening to a full orchestra. Maybe she was on stage at the Paris Opera House. She was a marvel! Millie had an incredible, exceptional talent. She danced beautifully. She was the sort of child who naturally bounced, flew and glided through her day. Daisy often commented that she was in awe of her daughter, as she hadn’t been the sort of girl that anyone ever suggested ought to take dancing lessons: her nickname as a child – as bestowed on her by her family – was Fairy Elephant. She lolloped and lumbered, rather clumsily. As a boy, Simon had never been taken to dance lessons either, his family were far too conventional to consider that, but he liked to think he had been pretty good at throwing shapes on the dancefloor (a phrase he used self-satirically); certainly, he was good at sport in general. He’d always thought that Millie had inherited her natural ability to dance from his side of the family, his sister had been a great gymnast and was quite good at tap as a child. She was certainly good at doing flits, thought Simon with a sigh. His sister had announced she was emigrating to Canada about a month after their mother was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. He kept telling himself it was a coincidence, but he didn’t know for sure. It was certainly an inconvenience, that he was certain of.

      Millie adored all things frilly, pretty, floaty and twirling. Daisy had started her at dance classes just before she turned three. It’s not that Daisy was a particularly annoying, overly-ambitious mother, it was simply that Millie needed to channel her energy and desire to coil and whirl somewhere. It turned out she was very good, quite extraordinarily so. Her dance tutor said that in all her nineteen years of teaching, she had never seen equivalent talent, focus and drive in a child so young. Daisy was a teacher – not a dance teacher but a Year Six teacher at a state primary school – and she was aware of the value of that observation. She’d excitedly told Simon that teachers had to be very careful about what they said to parents, as parents all tended to get a little carried away. Everyone believed they’d produced a spectacular little miracle, when in fact most kids were within a recognised range.

      Although, evidently Millie was a spectacular little miracle.

      Simon’s eyes followed her around the waiting room; she was on her tiptoes scampering, arms aloft, like ribbons, chin jutting at an elegant angle. An adorable mix of childish abandonment and earnest concentration. Everyone in the room stared at her with an intensity almost equal to his, it was impossible not to. The emotions she triggered varied: amusement, delight, longing. Daisy looked torn, somewhere between jubilant and embarrassed. She’d said she thought it was tactless bringing a child to a fertility clinic, as though they were showing off.

      ‘We don’t need to rub their noses in it,’ she’d warned. Simon thought her turn of phrase was amusing, quaint. He thought Millie’s presence in the waiting room had to be inspiring. Other parents would be encouraged. There was no doubt, she was special. For sure, they had to go in for another one. Millie might very well become a prima ballerina at the Royal Ballet, why not? Who knows what else they could produce: an astronaut, the next Steve Jobs, the person who finds the cure for cancer. Or even, simply a pleasant person who was nice to their neighbours, remained faithful to their partner, became an interested parent. It was life. Life! What was more important than that? You had to try, didn’t СКАЧАТЬ