Photos

He doesn’t want to tell her… the moment he tells her, he knows that he will see that hurt, closed, look on her face, the look he hasn’t seen in a long time, the look he never wants to see again. She’ll never forget what happened all those years ago, neither will he, but he had hoped that he would never have to remind her of it. They haven’t spoken of it – of her – for almost eight years, but in the past week, he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about it, about her. And he knows that Diane feels just the same.

And, against his better judgement, he tells her about Chrissie’s baby, and watches her eyes fill with tears, as she remembers another time, long ago. She shrugs it off quickly, tries to be professional. But as soon as she can, she runs off, wanting to be alone before she can cry. She doesn’t want to cry, and she certainly doesn’t want anyone to see her crying… but she cannot control either of those things. She stares out of the window, desperately trying not to blink, because when she blinks, she will cry. But he comes in and startles her – stops the concentration. She blinks, and starts crying. It’s a relief.

Ever since she found out she was pregnant, she’s been terrified – upset – guilty. It’s a reminder of what happened. She didn’t want a termination, if there had been any other way, she’d have taken it like a shot. But she couldn’t bear the thought that it might happen again. So she pretended that she didn’t care, that she felt nothing for the little life inside of her, partly hers and partly Steve’s. And she let it be taken away from her. And she shut Ric away, just like she had done before. But somehow, while she cries, she finds herself in his arms. And she can’t help by think of another time, in another life almost, when she was crying on his shoulder… a long time ago now, but the memories are still crystal clear.

They are both remembering what happened. What Chrissie is going through today, and what they went through seven years ago.

*~*~*

“I’m pregnant,” Diane announced, nervously, watching his expression carefully. She wasn’t sure how he would take the news… she wasn’t sure how she had taken the news. She was only twenty-one, still a student. But Ric was much older, a doctor, well paid, in an ideal position to raise a child. They were in a committed relationship, madly in love, living together, and if he proposed, she would say ‘yes’ in a heartbeat. But he already had children… lots of them. Some were almost her age.

She needn’t have worried. He seemed ecstatic. But after his first raptures were over, he wanted to know what she thought.

“I don’t know how I feel. But I want to have this baby, more than anything.” She didn’t care that she might have to give up her dream of becoming a doctor – nothing else mattered, only Ric and their baby.

And that was how it went, for six beautiful months. She tried to continue at university, and attended four out of every five lectures. He helped her with the rest. He’d done it all before. They decorated the baby’s room, bought furniture, and thought about names. Everything was perfect for them. It worked just like in the movies. Ric was over protective, and Diane panicked over the least thing. Nothing could go wrong for them, they thought – they were invincible. But they were so wrong.

Diane was six months pregnant when she woke up with stomach cramps. She tried to convince herself it was nothing, everything was fine, but Ric insisted on taking her to be checked over, just in case. And “just in case” became a reality. All their worst fears came true. They heard the words that they had never dreamt they could hear.

“I’m sorry. I’m afraid that she didn’t make it.”

Life became a blur to Diane. She had spent six months thinking only of her baby, and now she had no baby to think of. All of the hopes and dreams she had treasured were gone. She and Ric cried over their little daughter, clinging to each other when they had nothing else in the world. Instead of a christening, they organised a funeral. Instead of bringing their daughter home and laying her into her cot, they lay her in a coffin, and returned the cot, along with all of the baby paraphernalia. All they kept was her blanket, the one thing that their daughter had touched, during her brief moment of life. Along with one photo and two handprints, it was all they had of their baby. They had only each other.

But after the funeral, things changed. Blaming herself for what happened, Diane pushed Ric away. Terrified of becoming pregnant again, she slept on the sofa each night. She spent more and more time studying, and Ric spent more time working, understanding that he wasn’t wanted at home. Always believing that things would get better, he was shocked when he returned home one day to find Diane, bags packed, about to leave.

“It’s not working,” was the only explanation that she gave.

“It’s just a bad patch,” he tried to convince her. “Our baby died… things have been hard. We can get through it.”

“We can’t. I can’t.” She turned to the door, but was stopped.

“Marry me.”

“What? Ric, it wouldn’t work. We don’t speak to each other. Things have changed, you know?” She sighed. “We’d be divorced within a year. I’m sorry, yeah?” And with that, she left. Taking with her the only photo of their baby. The only memory that they had, and she had taken it from him. But she needed it too.

*~*~*

She’s sitting in her bedroom, staring at that photo now. Her little girl. Ric’s little girl. Alexandra, they called her. She’s never far from her parents’ minds, but they never talk about her. Most people would be shocked to hear that they had a child. Had? Have? Diane isn’t sure.

Slowly, she reaches under her pillow and pulls out another photo. This one is of her and Ric. The day before… when she was still happy. When they were happy. They’re laughing, their hands on her pregnant stomach. She smiles as she looks at it. She just wishes that she didn’t have to rely on photos.

It’s Ric’s birthday tomorrow. She’s got him a present. She always gets him a present. Just like she always buys Alexandra a present. But she’s never given either of them their presents – not for so many years. But tomorrow she will give Ric a present. She’s had it ready for a long time. It doesn’t look like anything much… when it’s wrapped up, all it looks like is a photo frame. But it isn’t. She made copies of her two favourite photos – the photos that have lived under her pillow for seven years. She knows that he won’t have these photos – she took all the photos when she left. Maybe it was wrong. It was wrong. But she needed them so badly. She was young and silly. If she had been more mature, then she wouldn’t have done it. She would have worked out an arrangement, split the photos, had copies made. She wouldn’t have taken all that he had left.

But this, giving two photos to Ric, this is the first step towards acceptance. Accepting that they had something, and that they lost it.

She sighs. She can’t wait until tomorrow. She drives over to his house, his present sitting in her lap. It’s midnight when she rings the doorbell, but he answers.

“Diane?” he asks, bewildered. “What are you doing here? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” She holds out the parcel. “Happy birthday.”

“You don’t have to come to my house on the stroke of midnight, you know,” he jokes. “You are allowed to wait until tomorrow.”

“I just… I wanted to give it to you.”

He unwraps it, and draws in a quick breath when he sees what’s there. “Diane…”

“I’m so sorry for taking them,” she says, quickly. “I should have made copies, anything, not taken them away from you. She was your daughter too.”

He hugs her. “Thank you.” He invites her in, and she accepts. Maybe it won’t bring Alexandra back, but it’s a start.