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All That Is Left Of Us
One of My Own…
Dawn loves being a mother. No matter how Archie came into her life, or the fact he’s a little different from other children, he is precious and loved. He is hers, after all. Especially because she’s never told anyone who the father of her son is.
So when Dawn’s twin brother, David, and his wife, Rebekah, are struggling to have their own child, Dawn agrees to become their surrogate, as it is the one thing she can do to help.
However, creating the perfect family doesn’t always go to plan, and when Dawn realises just how much her nephew needs his mother, she begins to wonder if the time has finally come to confront the past she has kept secret for so long.
From the author of Waiting for You comes a story of friendship, motherhood and hope.
Praise for CATHERINE MILLER’s Waiting for You
‘An emotional debut written straight from the heart’ – Julie Cohen, author of Dear Thing
‘A great concept with a theme lots of women will relate to. I really enjoyed it.’ – Katie Fforde, author of A Summer at Sea
‘Memorable characters and a life-enriching, emotional plot. Love it.’ – Sue Moorcroft
‘A highly-emotional, moving novel, full of longing, hope and surprises waiting just around the corner.’ – Becca’s Books
‘Only a few pages in, and I couldn’t stop reading, having found myself involved in Fliss’s story and eager to find out what happened next.’ – Portobello Book Blog
‘This book had many things I love in a good book and it kept me guessing with twists I wouldn’t have expected and moments that made me giggle.’ – A Writer in a Wheelchair
‘I thought this book was very realistic in its depictions of modern motherhood.’ – Alicia (Goodreads)
‘Waiting for You was an easy book to read as it was so engaging. The writing flowed well and it was well plotted out. There were quite a few surprises I had no idea were coming, just when I thought I had it all worked out!’ – Rock Chick Blog
‘A great read which I thoroughly enjoyed.’ – Fiona’s Book Reviews
Also by Catherine Miller
Waiting for You
All That is Left of Us
Catherine Miller
Copyright
HQ
An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd.
1 London Bridge Street
London SE1 9GF
First published in Great Britain by HQ in 2016
Copyright © Catherine Miller 2016
Catherine Miller asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.
E-book Edition © September 2016 ISBN: 9781474049573
Version date: 2018-09-19
CATHERINE MILLER
When Catherine became a mum to twins, she decided her hands weren’t full enough so wrote a novel with every spare moment she managed to find. By the time the twins were two, Catherine had a two-book deal with HQ Digital. There is a possibility she has aged remarkably in that time.
Catherine was a NHS physiotherapist, but for health reasons (Uveitis and Sarcoidosis) she retired early from this career. As she loved her physiotherapy job, she decided that, if she couldn’t continue, she would pursue her writing dream. It took a few years and a couple of babies, but in 2015 she won the Katie Fforde bursary, was a finalist in the London Book Fair Write Stuff competition and highly commended in Woman magazine’s writing competition. Soon afterwards she signed with HQ Digital. Soon after that, she collapsed in a heap and was eventually revived by chocolate.
Catherine is one-eighth of the award-winning bloggers, The Romaniacs: https://theromaniacgroup.wordpress.com/
You can follow Catherine on Twitter @katylittlelady
Writing All That is Left of Us has been a bit of a whirlwind. I couldn’t have managed it without the support of the wonderful people who’ve helped look after my girls to help free up some writing hours. So thank you to Dan, Monana, Great, Brian, Wendy, Paul, Barbara and Pat. With a special thanks to Alison, Katie, and all the staff at Busy Bees Preschool.
Thank you to my editor, Victoria Oundjian, for supporting this book from the moment it was an idea summed up in one paragraph to what it is today. *High fives to the entire HQ Digital team*
For help with research I need to thank Geoff Masson, livestock manager at Paulton’s Park, for all his help answering my questions about meerkats. For answering all my questions about autism, I need to thank the National Autistic Society and Steven Holloway.
For their constant support in the writing world, my thanks go to the gorgeous, wondrous Romaniac girls. My sisters in writing and in life. And if we’re sisters, then the Romantic Novelists’ Association is our parent and we are for ever thankful to the New Writers’ Scheme for helping bring us together.
And for keeping me sane(ish) every week, I want to say thank you to Liz Mclellan and her Millbrook Slimming World group.
As if I’m not busy enough, I volunteered to take over running the Shirley Double Delights and more twin club. I would like to thank all the volunteers who help out there every week: Colin, Brian, Becky, Jean, Jill, Bob, Christine and Catherine. It wouldn’t function without your marvellous help. I would also like to give a shout out to all the twin mums who come. The last few years would have been a lot tougher without your friendship and support (Liz, Karen, Carole, Cora, Kirsty, Jacqui, Danni, Cassie, Joy, Zaneta, Saphy and Stacey et al.).
For my mum.
For managing it solo and truly acing motherhood.
Contents
Cover
Blurb
Praise
Book List
Title Page
Copyright
Author Bio
Acknowledgements
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Excerpt
Endpages
About the Publisher
Prologue
Dear Archie,
On the day you were born, nothing prepared me for the life we would lead together. There was no sense of future in that moment. Only us. And every day since I have wondered if it is ever enough. If I can ever give you all the love required to pave the way.
Because right from the start I didn’t know what I was up to. And every day since I have questioned everything I’ve ever done.
I just need you to know that, despite it all, you are loved. You have always been my first love and that is all that should ever matter.
But I am being a surrogate for all of us. For your auntie and uncle to have a family as complete as ours. I hope that one day you’ll understand why it was so important to do this. And none of it will change the fact that you are my number one.
Love, Mum x
***
To my unborn child,
There has not been a day when I haven’t thought about you, but so often you have been a concept. With each of the five miscarriages I had you were more and more unreachable. You had become an impossibility. And yet here you are in this most improbable way.
I may not be the one holding you, but I want to be more than you could ever imagine. To savour those moments that are ours. And as they get closer I am beginning to believe maybe this is the occasion where nothing goes wrong. The time that you become whole and I get to become your mother.
There is nothing I want more and yet there is nothing further out of reach.
I’m counting the days until we meet,
Rebekah, your mum-to-be xxxx
Chapter 1
Dawn was thirty-six weeks and two days pregnant with a baby that would never be hers. She knew exactly how far along she was because she was counting. She just couldn’t work out if she was marking off the days until freedom or savouring the remaining hours as a surrogate.
This evening’s class was for Rebekah’s benefit. Dawn’s sister-in-law was the real mother of the baby she was carrying. Rebekah was the one needing to know what to expect of labour even if she wasn’t going to be going through it herself. Dawn was pretty certain the process of labour hadn’t changed significantly since she last went through it a decade ago, but in some ways this labour had more at stake than her own, so the refresher wasn’t going to hurt.
And tonight was an opportunity for Rebekah to pretend.
‘This is stupid. I can’t believe you managed to get hold of this.’ Rebekah buttoned the maternity shirt she was borrowing over her fake foam bump.
‘It was from the props store. They use it for the teen pregnancy talks although I’m not too sure how much good it’s done. It doesn’t really demonstrate the true burden you endure once the baby arrives.’ Triffic. There Dawn goes putting her foot in it again. ‘When you’re a teenager.’ As she had been. Rebekah was in an altogether better position than when Dawn had had Archie at seventeen. She’d really lost the knack of saying the right thing around her sister-in-law these days.
‘This little one will never be a burden. They couldn’t be more wanted. Now, how does pregnancy suit me?’ Rebekah turned, the foam bump making her a silhouette of blooming motherhood.
‘Much better than it does me.’ Dawn was trying not to grumble, but in these final, ankle-swelling, ache-infested weeks she was counting down until her due day. Soon she would have her body back. Soon she would make Rebekah a mother. Twenty-six days left of being a surrogate mum.
‘Do you mind if we don’t tell David about this? It’s just…’ Rebekah didn’t finish the sentence and Dawn was able to fill in the blank.
It would concern him. Like this whole process had concerned Dawn’s brother. From the moment he’d fallen in love with Rebekah and they’d spent month after month trying to conceive, right through to finding out why Rebekah was so susceptible to miscarriage, Dawn had ridden the wave of heartache alongside her twin brother. So when it was clear Rebekah wouldn’t be able to have a successful pregnancy, without a second thought Dawn had volunteered. It was about time she made her role as the gooseberry in their marriage a useful one. Plus, it was for her brother. Her twin brother. There was no planet on which she’d say no to the request.
‘My lips are sealed. This is just for fun. We either go in there both pregnant or have the room thinking we’re a couple.’
‘Are you still okay with us doing this?’ Rebekah smoothed her hand over her bump, like it belonged there, which really it did.
‘What? The class? Of course. I know I said I wasn’t bothered but, to be honest, it’s been so long I could do with the refresher.’
‘Not tonight. I mean with my being there when it happens.’
‘God. Yes. Totally. I would not want it any other way.’ Even if it did mean her sister-in-law seeing her lady bits. ‘You don’t mind David having to wait outside, do you?’ It was a bit last-century making the father stay in the waiting room, but her sister-in-law catching a glimpse of her fangina was one thing – her twin brother, that was NEVER going to happen.
So here they were. In this it’s totes okay, but not okay situation. In this awkward harmony of being the mother and the womb. With each of them trying to get to grips with the roles they would play.
***
In the lift, it was a cramped bundle of blossoming bellies and polite smiles. Every person in the elevator part of a couple clearly heading to the same class.
‘How many weeks are you?’ one lady asked another as they rose level by level.
‘Thirty-seven weeks so full-term now. How about you?’
Dawn zoned out from the small talk. She wasn’t here in an attempt to find out about surviving motherhood or indeed find friends to survive motherhood with. She was here to support Rebekah. The time of the classes meant David wasn’t home from work early enough to join them and the new parent in Rebekah needed the advice these sessions would provide.
The question had reached Rebekah. ‘I’m thirty-six weeks,’ she said. ‘And this is my sister-in-law. We’re due the same week.’
‘Oh, how lovely,’ one of the women said. ‘Cousins who’ll grow up together. They’ll be like twins. That’ll be super. Is this your first?’
Dawn kept quiet and allowed Rebekah to join in the chat. It wasn’t her baby. It was her belly that was empty, not Rebekah’s. When the doors pinged open at their destined floor, she breathed a sigh of relief. The lift was getting claustrophobic with all the questions.
As they collectively followed pieces of paper printed with arrows directing them towards the antenatal class, Dawn attempted to lag behind, away from the chatter.
‘I thought it was you.’ A woman appeared beside her.
Dawn looked up for the first time. She was the polar opposite of Dawn. Bleached blonde hair cropped short, immaculate make-up, a maternity wardrobe that was probably by Prada, and a bump so perfectly round it looked more fake than Rebekah’s foam one. There was something familiar about her that she wasn’t able to put a finger on without staring for longer than necessary.
‘It’s Caitlin. We were in college together. Do you remember?’
How could she forget? A cold shiver ran through her as she was taken back to a time she’d spent a decade trying to block out. ‘Wow. It’s the hair. You look so different. I didn’t realise it was you.’ This wasn’t the Caitlin Dawn had known. The Caitlin she knew was mousy brown, chubby in the cheeks and prone to spats of acne on her chin. This Caitlin was a different breed to the one she’d left behind at college. The one she didn’t really want to be reacquainted with. Especially here of all places.
‘College was a long time ago. A lot has changed, although you still look like the Dawn I remember. I knew it was you immediately.’
Dawn wasn’t sure if this was a compliment about keeping her youthful looks or an insult about not changing. Admittedly, her long black hair was always going to make her seem like a goth-loving student. It was pretty clear that, of the two of them, Caitlin was the one who’d blossomed from duckling to swan, whereas Dawn’s sneakers were probably the same ones she’d had in their college days. And what was wrong with that? Vintage was hip. At least it was for a single mother trying to make her way in life.
‘So is this your first?’
It was an innocent enough question. Only an extension of the conversation that had taken place in the lift, but it was more than Dawn was willing to share, taking her back to being seventeen. All the whispers as if they thought she wouldn’t hear, and that was the lecturers mostly. This wasn’t the time or place to confirm those rumours about her leaving college because she was pregnant were true. ‘I’m sorry. I really need to catch up with Rebekah. It was nice seeing you again.’
In a hurry, Dawn caught up with the group who were going single-file into the bare NHS teaching room furnished with only a semi-circle of chairs. Everyone here had that nervous look of not knowing what the future held. She could tell them. It entailed losing rational thoughts in the middle of the night because all you need is goddamn sleep. There would be overwhelming moments when all they knew was love for their child and it only mattered that they were going to be all right. There would be times when they were stripped of every inch of their dignity to the point they would no longer care about the waxing session they didn’t get to. None of those emotions could be explained on an NHS-issued piece of A4 paper. No amount of pep talk could prepare them for what it would really be like. Especially if you ended up having to do it alone.
‘Hi,’ Dawn said, as she caught up with Rebekah and linked arms with her, feeling the need for an anchor. She wasn’t here to make friends, especially not ones she’d said goodbye to in another lifetime. A lot had changed in the time since they were at college, even if Dawn did look the same.
When she nestled in the chair next to Rebekah, Junior decided to start doing a shuffle in her abdomen. They’d – that is, David and Rebekah – decided not to find out the sex of the baby but, secretly, Dawn was pretty sure it was a boy. The pregnancy was going with a similar smoothness to the one she’d had with Archie and she was pretty sure at the last scan she’d spotted a wee willy winky on the screen. Not that she was any kind of expert. It could have been the umbilical cord for all she knew, but there was just that feeling. That sixth sense only a mother would identify with. One that she wanted to share with Rebekah, but she knew David wanted to keep things neutral.
As she stroked her hand over her abdomen, Dawn recognised her brother’s concerns were down to fear. The not wanting to believe it would happen until the baby was here. With Rebekah having suffered so many miscarriages, she understood that reluctance to believe until the baby was real enough to hold. So if he wasn’t prepared to bond until Junior arrived, it wouldn’t hurt if Dawn made up for it by savouring this connection while it lasted.
‘Are you okay?’ Rebekah asked.
Dawn was a thousand miles away. ‘Yes, just wriggler here won’t keep still.’ Plus, an old college friend reminding her that her past wasn’t so far behind her with having never moved out of Owerdale, this part of the New Forest being too scenic for anyone to want to leave, including her. Hopefully, after tonight their paths wouldn’t cross again for another decade.
‘Everyone seems really nice.’ Rebekah smiled, a rosiness to her cheeks giving a glow of pregnancy so convincing it would only be Dawn who knew the truth. It suited her. There was an excitement in Rebekah’s expression she’d not witnessed before. They were on the home straight. She was starting to believe this was really going to happen.
‘Make sure you get their phone numbers. You want to be able to connect with them after this course has finished and everyone has popped their buns out. It’s helpful to have friends in the same situation.’ It wasn’t easy to forget how isolating motherhood was in those early days. When getting out the flat was such a trial it was sometimes easier not to bother.
‘Hi, everyone. My name’s Brian and I’ll be taking today’s class on the bit you’re all worrying about: labour.’
Well, for anyone who wasn’t worried, they would be now. Thanks, Brian. Dawn was trying not to think about that part. It signified the end and yet the beginning. Also, there was the small inconvenience of a shedload of pain, only without the euphoria at the end of it to cancel it out. She was hoping the birth would be quick. Considering her labour with Archie had been less than twelve hours, she was sure this one would pop out like a cork, but she had left it ten years between labours. A speedy delivery would be a suitable reward for having carried Rebekah and David’s baby. She was wishing for that and a bloody good night’s sleep afterwards. And the day after that. And that.
When Brian started to get contraptions out to demonstrate how forceps and ventouse worked, Dawn’s squeamish nature turned away from the talk.
Caitlin’s stare pierced through her. She was looking right at her and yet beyond her at the same time. It was freaky.
Dawn turned her attention back to the talk, knowing there was nowhere to hide. Was it possible Caitlin knew more about what had happened than she thought? She couldn’t. That was impossible.
‘Time for a tea break,’ Brian said. ‘I can see you’re all glazing over and this is a late night out for you mummies-to-be.’
‘Wow. That was a lot of information,’ Rebekah said, her cheeks flushed with enthusiasm. Either that or the foam suit might be a bit much to wear for an entire hot spring evening. ‘Do you still think you’re going to go for a natural birth?’
Dawn chanced a glance in Caitlin’s direction. The odd gaze in her expression was gone and she was now chatting to the man she was here with. Dawn was imagining things. She concentrated on Rebekah and her question like she should be doing. ‘If everything goes to plan.’ She was hoping it would all be natural. She’d managed it with Archie.
‘Do you think it will go to plan?’ Rebekah said.
This was one of those eggshell moments. The ones she tried to avoid for the sake of Rebekah and David. They’d had so much heartache already, they needed to have a happy ending this time. She needed to give that to them. ‘We’re in the best hands the NHS can provide. Of course it will. And if it doesn’t, we’ll have all the help we need to get Junior out.’ If she ended up needing a C-section, she didn’t care. All that mattered was that the baby came out safely.
‘I’m going to go and get that lady’s phone number like you suggested.’ Rebekah stood with more ease than Dawn would be able to muster after sitting for the best part of an hour. ‘See you in a minute.’
Dawn’s inability to move at any speed left her vulnerable. She didn’t want to be a sitting duck for conversations she didn’t want to have. Summoning the ability to get out of the chair, she went to go and collect leaflets she didn’t really want or need in an effort to occupy herself. It didn’t stop what she was trying to avoid from happening though.
Caitlin caught her arm to grab her attention. ‘We should get together once we’ve had our little ones. It’ll be like the old days although under very different circumstances.’
‘Erm…’ was all Dawn managed to squeeze out in way of protest. She wasn’t having a baby. She might be pregnant, but Junior wasn’t hers.
‘Here’s my card.’ Caitlin dished one out to her even though she hadn’t managed a full response.
Dawn took it. ‘That would be nice.’ She said it like she meant it, because, in truth, there was a part of her that missed her old friend. She’d not wanted to walk away from their friendship in the way she’d had to. If they did meet up she could explain about the surrogacy then, to save blowing Rebekah’s cover now. And maybe she would tell her about Archie.