The Mummy
Created | Updated Jan 20, 2005
Barren! A harsh, unfeeling word. A Biblical word. Not the word her doctor had used, of course, but a word which so aptly and precisely summed up Claire's state of infertility.
What he had said was "I am very sorry Mrs. Ellis, there is no kind way of putting this. The tests show that you will never bear a child"
She was barren, like the Sahara desert; infertile, never to become pregnant, never to burgeon and bloom as the child in her womb grew steadily to full term. Never to feel the agonising birth pangs as a new life was wrenched from her body, the pain so soon forgotten in the joy of holding and suckling her new born child. Never would she see her baby's first smile, his first tooth, hear his first word, cry as she left him on his first day at school. Always she would be childless, envious of women with wide child bearing hips, who had them "like shelling peas" one after the other; whose husbands only had to look at them and they were pregnant again; who moaned 'Oh, not another mouth to feed".
At first she couldn't believe life had dealt her such a cruel blow. Perhaps the test results had got muddled. Perhaps I'll get better, she thought. But the doctor was quite sure
"I'm sorry Mrs. Ellis. There is no mistake. There is no cure."
Then the self-pity had set in and at about the same time Steve began his drinking and womanising. In retrospect she supposed he couldn't be entirely to blame. She must have been hell to live with then. Eyes red and blotchy from endless tears. She had slopped around the house in dressing gown and slippers, not bothering to comb her hair, make up her face or even cook him a meal. O.K. so he had reason to stay away, but did he have to be so cruel when he did come home in the early hours, raving drunk?
"I don't need you" he had taunted as she lay sleepless, waiting for him to return. She needed to be cuddled, comforted but he could only taunt
"I don't need you to cook for me and I don't need your body. I can get anything I want elsewhere. What good is your body anyway. You can't even give me a child.. If I was Henry the Eighth I could have your head cut off for that".
Eventually, of course, he didn't even bother to come home. He collected his things while she was at work and moved in with one of his girlfriends.
It wasn't hard for her to divorce him. He didn't deny his adultery and, of course, there were no children to complicate matters.
Endless months of solitude and loneliness followed, with her mother saying
"Claire, you should, go out and meet people" everytime they met up. But Claire didn't want to meet people, couldn't face their probing questions, 'Are you married? Have you any children? She preferred to spend her evenings at home alone with her thoughts and hopes. For she still lived in hope - she refused to believe that having a child was impossible. She still hoped that one day, with another partner, she might possibly fall pregnant.
Just when she thought her heart was dead, Mike happened. He was a salesman and had been in and out of the office on countless occasions before she noticed him. He had noticed her though, but it had taken him many weeks before he screwed up enough courage to ask her out for dinner.
"I haven't felt much like going out since my wife died" He had shiny, dark eyes and a friendly smile. But he was a salesman. They had reputations like sailors and she couldn't help wondering if his wife was really alive and well and living in Byfleet. She liked him though and was disappointed when, at the end of the evening, he didn't suggest another date or even ask for her telephone number.
"I don't think I put him off in any way" she confided her dashed ego to her mother. "He seemed so keen last night".
Her mother wasn't much help.
"There are plenty more fish in the sea, Claire, just get out and meet more people" was all she could offer.
But Claire need not have worried. When she arrived at her office the next morning her keyboard was almost obscured by dozens of long stemmed, red roses. A small white card was just signed 'Mike'. Her heart flipped and. she thought "He's a romantic".
After that they saw each other most days, and on the days they did not meet he would 'phone her to ask how she was. It seemed natural for them to be together. Claire felt more comfortable with Mike than she ever had with Steve even though they had been married for almost ten years. Mike even got on with her mother and not many people managed to do that.
When he asked her to marry him she had no hesitation in saying 'yes'
"There's no reason to wait" he said "It's the second time around for both of us, so the sooner the better" he stopped abruptly. They had just enjoyed a romantic meal together and Mike had driven Claire home to her flat. She sensed his withdrawal from her and was worried by his unease. She took his hand and urged him to tell her what was bothering him.
"I should have told you at the start" he blurted everything out in a rush then. He had a baby daughter. Claire tingled from head to toe - a baby! She wanted to rush to see her that very moment.
"Why didn't you tell me"? He said he didn't know why. He couldn't put his finger on a specific reason, he just thought it might change things between them. They had never talked about children or how she felt about them.
"I didn't want to risk scaring you off by having a ready made family waiting for you to take care of".
How could he know that a ready made family was the only kind she could ever have? Alison, he said, was two years old and since the death of his wife had been cared for by her grandparents.
After that she couldn't wait to see the child. She pestered him at every opportunity until he agreed to take her. They made the trip just ten days before their wedding.
"Have you told her about me" Claire asked as he parked outside his parents* terraced house.
"Claire, she's only two. How much do you think she can comprehend. She's not much more than a baby. Of course, I've talked to her about you, told her you were coming, but don't expect too much." He took her hand, which was cold and trembling despite the July sunshine, and led her up the front path. In spite of her nerves she noticed the bushes of red roses beside the path. Roses that would forever remind her of Mike.
His mother was sour and sullen.
"She doesn't want us to take Alison away" he told her later, and she could understand that.
"She's already gone up to her bed", his mother did not look up from the sheet she was ironing. Her plump face was damp, and her hair dripping, from the humid evening and the steam rising in clouds from the iron.
"You knew we were coming Ma, why didn't you keep her up a bit later. It wouldn't hurt once in a while" Mike sounded angry and Claire felt very uncomfortable. Mike's father, who sat staring at the flickering television screen, ignored them all.
"Perhaps we could go up and just look at her" Claire suggested
"She'll be asleep by now" his mother glared at both of them.
"Now come on, Ma, don't be stubborn. You know that's why Claire is here. She's come to see Alison, you knew it was bound to happen one day, sooner or later"
He turned to Claire and took her hand.
"Come on love, we'll go up to her". He led her from the hostile atmosphere of the living room and up the stairs.
Claire held her breath and prayed that Mike's mother had said nothing to turn the little girl against her. They entered the small bedroom. It lay at the rear of the house and the roof sloped right down to touch the top of the window. The furniture was old but shone with years of care and polish. The blue and white floral curtains matched the bedspread and a cushion on the seat of a blue broadloom armchair. Sitting on the cushion was an old brown teddy bear. Other soft toys, bricks and dolls were carelessly stuffed into a large cardboard box in one corner of the room. Everything was spotlessly clean and it was clear that Mike's mother had taken very good care of her little grand daughter.
Claire took it all in at a glance and then her eyes came to rest upon the little girl in the bed. In the summer heat she had kicked off the covers and drawn her hot little legs up inside her nightdress. Her blonde hair was straight and cut level with the bottom of her ears. Some of her fringe fell sideways towards the pillow and the rest was stuck to her damp forehead. Her round cheeks were hot and red and her thumb was just slipping from her open mouth.
Claire's eyes welled with tears. She thought he had never seen such a beautiful sight and she wanted to grab the child and hug her tight. She glanced at Mike who was leaning against the door jamb watching the two of them. She reached out to pull the sheet up over Alison's plump little legs.
Suddenly the thumb jerked from Alison's mouth and she sat up, her fists rubbing hard at her eyes. They opened wide to look at Claire, who perched carefully on the edge of the bed. Alison looked from Mike to Claire then back to Mike.
"Daddy" she called "Daddy, who's this lady?"
Claire thought, for a moment, that she saw fear in Alison's eyes, thought she was going to cry. But it was all right - she was only startled by waking to find them there. Claire took Alison's little hand in her own and said "Hello Alison" in a voice small and choked with pent up emotion.
Alison smiled at her and squeezed Claire's hand
"Are you the mummy?" she asked
Claire could no longer control her tears, they flowed freely down her cheeks as she reached out and hugged the little girl in her arms.
"Yes, sweetheart" she replied "I am the mummy".
What he had said was "I am very sorry Mrs. Ellis, there is no kind way of putting this. The tests show that you will never bear a child"
She was barren, like the Sahara desert; infertile, never to become pregnant, never to burgeon and bloom as the child in her womb grew steadily to full term. Never to feel the agonising birth pangs as a new life was wrenched from her body, the pain so soon forgotten in the joy of holding and suckling her new born child. Never would she see her baby's first smile, his first tooth, hear his first word, cry as she left him on his first day at school. Always she would be childless, envious of women with wide child bearing hips, who had them "like shelling peas" one after the other; whose husbands only had to look at them and they were pregnant again; who moaned 'Oh, not another mouth to feed".
At first she couldn't believe life had dealt her such a cruel blow. Perhaps the test results had got muddled. Perhaps I'll get better, she thought. But the doctor was quite sure
"I'm sorry Mrs. Ellis. There is no mistake. There is no cure."
Then the self-pity had set in and at about the same time Steve began his drinking and womanising. In retrospect she supposed he couldn't be entirely to blame. She must have been hell to live with then. Eyes red and blotchy from endless tears. She had slopped around the house in dressing gown and slippers, not bothering to comb her hair, make up her face or even cook him a meal. O.K. so he had reason to stay away, but did he have to be so cruel when he did come home in the early hours, raving drunk?
"I don't need you" he had taunted as she lay sleepless, waiting for him to return. She needed to be cuddled, comforted but he could only taunt
"I don't need you to cook for me and I don't need your body. I can get anything I want elsewhere. What good is your body anyway. You can't even give me a child.. If I was Henry the Eighth I could have your head cut off for that".
Eventually, of course, he didn't even bother to come home. He collected his things while she was at work and moved in with one of his girlfriends.
It wasn't hard for her to divorce him. He didn't deny his adultery and, of course, there were no children to complicate matters.
Endless months of solitude and loneliness followed, with her mother saying
"Claire, you should, go out and meet people" everytime they met up. But Claire didn't want to meet people, couldn't face their probing questions, 'Are you married? Have you any children? She preferred to spend her evenings at home alone with her thoughts and hopes. For she still lived in hope - she refused to believe that having a child was impossible. She still hoped that one day, with another partner, she might possibly fall pregnant.
Just when she thought her heart was dead, Mike happened. He was a salesman and had been in and out of the office on countless occasions before she noticed him. He had noticed her though, but it had taken him many weeks before he screwed up enough courage to ask her out for dinner.
"I haven't felt much like going out since my wife died" He had shiny, dark eyes and a friendly smile. But he was a salesman. They had reputations like sailors and she couldn't help wondering if his wife was really alive and well and living in Byfleet. She liked him though and was disappointed when, at the end of the evening, he didn't suggest another date or even ask for her telephone number.
"I don't think I put him off in any way" she confided her dashed ego to her mother. "He seemed so keen last night".
Her mother wasn't much help.
"There are plenty more fish in the sea, Claire, just get out and meet more people" was all she could offer.
But Claire need not have worried. When she arrived at her office the next morning her keyboard was almost obscured by dozens of long stemmed, red roses. A small white card was just signed 'Mike'. Her heart flipped and. she thought "He's a romantic".
After that they saw each other most days, and on the days they did not meet he would 'phone her to ask how she was. It seemed natural for them to be together. Claire felt more comfortable with Mike than she ever had with Steve even though they had been married for almost ten years. Mike even got on with her mother and not many people managed to do that.
When he asked her to marry him she had no hesitation in saying 'yes'
"There's no reason to wait" he said "It's the second time around for both of us, so the sooner the better" he stopped abruptly. They had just enjoyed a romantic meal together and Mike had driven Claire home to her flat. She sensed his withdrawal from her and was worried by his unease. She took his hand and urged him to tell her what was bothering him.
"I should have told you at the start" he blurted everything out in a rush then. He had a baby daughter. Claire tingled from head to toe - a baby! She wanted to rush to see her that very moment.
"Why didn't you tell me"? He said he didn't know why. He couldn't put his finger on a specific reason, he just thought it might change things between them. They had never talked about children or how she felt about them.
"I didn't want to risk scaring you off by having a ready made family waiting for you to take care of".
How could he know that a ready made family was the only kind she could ever have? Alison, he said, was two years old and since the death of his wife had been cared for by her grandparents.
After that she couldn't wait to see the child. She pestered him at every opportunity until he agreed to take her. They made the trip just ten days before their wedding.
"Have you told her about me" Claire asked as he parked outside his parents* terraced house.
"Claire, she's only two. How much do you think she can comprehend. She's not much more than a baby. Of course, I've talked to her about you, told her you were coming, but don't expect too much." He took her hand, which was cold and trembling despite the July sunshine, and led her up the front path. In spite of her nerves she noticed the bushes of red roses beside the path. Roses that would forever remind her of Mike.
His mother was sour and sullen.
"She doesn't want us to take Alison away" he told her later, and she could understand that.
"She's already gone up to her bed", his mother did not look up from the sheet she was ironing. Her plump face was damp, and her hair dripping, from the humid evening and the steam rising in clouds from the iron.
"You knew we were coming Ma, why didn't you keep her up a bit later. It wouldn't hurt once in a while" Mike sounded angry and Claire felt very uncomfortable. Mike's father, who sat staring at the flickering television screen, ignored them all.
"Perhaps we could go up and just look at her" Claire suggested
"She'll be asleep by now" his mother glared at both of them.
"Now come on, Ma, don't be stubborn. You know that's why Claire is here. She's come to see Alison, you knew it was bound to happen one day, sooner or later"
He turned to Claire and took her hand.
"Come on love, we'll go up to her". He led her from the hostile atmosphere of the living room and up the stairs.
Claire held her breath and prayed that Mike's mother had said nothing to turn the little girl against her. They entered the small bedroom. It lay at the rear of the house and the roof sloped right down to touch the top of the window. The furniture was old but shone with years of care and polish. The blue and white floral curtains matched the bedspread and a cushion on the seat of a blue broadloom armchair. Sitting on the cushion was an old brown teddy bear. Other soft toys, bricks and dolls were carelessly stuffed into a large cardboard box in one corner of the room. Everything was spotlessly clean and it was clear that Mike's mother had taken very good care of her little grand daughter.
Claire took it all in at a glance and then her eyes came to rest upon the little girl in the bed. In the summer heat she had kicked off the covers and drawn her hot little legs up inside her nightdress. Her blonde hair was straight and cut level with the bottom of her ears. Some of her fringe fell sideways towards the pillow and the rest was stuck to her damp forehead. Her round cheeks were hot and red and her thumb was just slipping from her open mouth.
Claire's eyes welled with tears. She thought he had never seen such a beautiful sight and she wanted to grab the child and hug her tight. She glanced at Mike who was leaning against the door jamb watching the two of them. She reached out to pull the sheet up over Alison's plump little legs.
Suddenly the thumb jerked from Alison's mouth and she sat up, her fists rubbing hard at her eyes. They opened wide to look at Claire, who perched carefully on the edge of the bed. Alison looked from Mike to Claire then back to Mike.
"Daddy" she called "Daddy, who's this lady?"
Claire thought, for a moment, that she saw fear in Alison's eyes, thought she was going to cry. But it was all right - she was only startled by waking to find them there. Claire took Alison's little hand in her own and said "Hello Alison" in a voice small and choked with pent up emotion.
Alison smiled at her and squeezed Claire's hand
"Are you the mummy?" she asked
Claire could no longer control her tears, they flowed freely down her cheeks as she reached out and hugged the little girl in her arms.
"Yes, sweetheart" she replied "I am the mummy".
