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Mars
I'm fifteen years old and my ma is just about to give birth. She's exhausted and in agony and really needs
someone to hold her hand but I'm pretty disgusted by the whole thing so I leave the room.
That's when I see her. Sitting alone in the corridor. Drinking cold coffee out one of those minging
little plastic cups, trying to look all sophisticated. She was waiting on her boyfriend.
The kid being born in the next room was his third. It was just a shag she says, it's me
he really loves. She was pretty hot so I could just about believe it.
I'm about to make a move, strike up some conversation when the nurse comes out. Something's wrong, she says.
The baby's stuck. Your mam's shouting for you. Tell her I've gone to the toilet I say. The nurse shakes
her head and leaves. I can hear my ma squealing when she opens the door.
That's not very nice she says, blowing on the cold coffee. She's probably seen them do that in one
of those French films I think, trying not to judge. Where's your da she asks or was your ma just
shagging around? Nah I say, playing it cool but secretly outraged. My ma shagging around!
I'd ring her bloody neck. Jimbo's ma shags around, mad Kenny's ma shags around, my ma does
not shag around. My da died last month I tell her. They thought he'd die last year but he
didn't and then when he continued not to die and even managed to get her up the duff she
thought she was onto a winner. That somehow he'd live forever. I knew he wouldn't but
whatever, we all believe what we want to believe. Shit, she says. Your poor ma.
We sit in silence. I hear a scream from inside the room. Maybe I should go to the toilet I think.
You should go in she says, your ma needs you. You're the man of the house now. Don't give me that
shit I say. She decided to get pregnant even though the doctor told her she was too old.
Complications are more common in women over forty. He actually said that, I heard him say
that but no, she knew better. Besides she's done it before.
The nurse comes out again. Christ on a bike, just piss off I think. Your mam wants you, she's in a bad way.
Tell her I'm still in the toilet. Twenty minutes later? Tell her I'm constipated. Another scream
then sort of a wailing like them Bosnian women you see on TV telling you how some guy gunned down
their only son. We stop and listen. Come on she says, I know it's not been easy for you but
your mam needs you. Not been easy, what the fuck does she know about not been easy.
The scream again. Jesus ma I think. She flinches, dropping the plastic cup. They're going
to take her to theatre. The baby's not coming out naturally so they need to help her out.
I shrug and she launches into some lecture about how there aren't enough nursing staff
to go round and how they can't be just sat there wasting their time holding some poor
love's hand when there's work to be done and anyway they've families to do that for
them. I close my eyes, thinking about Sigourney Weaver and how unnatural the whole
bloody thing is. When I open them again she's gone.
The nurse is still standing there, hands on hips. Where is she I ask? At least your girlfriend has some
compassion. Girlfriend? I fucking wish. At school she doesn't even know I exist. I once sat next to
her in chemistry class but then Brenda Jackson came in and she got up and moved. I stand up and enter
the room. My ma is lying on the bed all red faced and sweaty. And there she is, standing beside
her holding her hand and stroking her hair like she's Mother flaming Theresa. Now I've fantasized
about many things. Many of them involving Rochelle Brown but Rochelle Brown holding my ma's hand
and telling her it'll all be alright was never one of them.
I watch, trying to make sense of it all. I wonder briefly if she'll sit next to me in class
or if she'll maybe let me feel her tits but then my ma screams again and the doctor says
right let's get her downstairs. I feel a bit sick and think I might faint so I say
I'll wait outside. Rochelle shoots me a don't you fucking dare look but I'm gone
before she can say anything. The nurse tuts. She hates me. But then to be fair,
most people do.
I sit back in the plastic seats and close my eyes, relieved to be out. When I open them again he's there.
Sitting beside me, rolling a fag and eating a mars bar. Alright he says. Fine I say. He asks if
it's my first. Tells me that it's his third and that it doesn't get any bloody easier third
time round and by the way have I seen his girlfriend. Blonde, skinny, tidy little bird.
He makes a shagging motion and laughs; I could fuck her all day he says. You and me both
I think. Before I can explain that she's down stairs with my ma he's gone.
He's left the mars bar. It's one of those man-sized bars so there's quite a bit left.
I finish it then lie back on the chairs for a kip. The nurse wakes me up. It's
a boy she says. Graham after your da. Right I say. Her tone shifts, you can
come in she says, your ma wants to see you. She leaves and Rochelle arrives.
She's been crying. Eh you alright? It was beautiful she says. Beautiful?
I'm about to make a move again, strike up some conversation when he arrives back.
Rochelle doll, where have you been? I've been looking everywhere. Nowhere, she beams.
Mate you seen a mars bar he asks. Nah, I lie stuffing the wrapper further into my pocket.
He shrugs and they turn to leave. See you at school I ask hopefully. Maybe, she
responses and with a toss of the head she's gone.
Best go in and see my ma I guess.
Lynsey Miller
Email: Lynsey Miller
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