The Key of My Heart Chapter 5

Chapter 5 Being back at Gerda’s was hard, after my two weeks with Jasper. It wasn’t just that I missed him – which I did, dreadfully – it was the state of the place. Making the children’s beds, I noticed that they smelt of stale urine – but it was no good asking Gerda for the money to take the bedding to the laundrette. It was hard enough getting the clothes washed. And the food was so poor. I’d got used to fresh ingredients, nicely cooked. It was hard getting the food down, sometimes. It wasn’t just me who thought the food was off! Tamara wasn’t impressed either. Chablis, needless to say, got the fresh bread and the un-mouldy jam. Tamara and I were both sick afterwards. When I wrote to Jasper though, I didn’t mention all this – I didn’t want him worrying about me. I tried to keep my letters light and cheerful – I talked about how much I’d enjoyed his music, reminisced about how we met – and asked him how things were going. The weeks without Jasper were long though. I couldn’t wait until my eighteenth birthday. I was already looking for a job – any job – so that I could earn enough to keep myself, free from Gerda. Then even if we had to wait a little before we could be together as we’d planned, I could get away from here, and go somewhere else. Jasper wrote to me as often as he could. Getting to the post before Gerda was easy – she never got up before noon if she could help it. His letters were full of how the tour was going – very well, from the sound of it. Mr Deakins had said he reckoned Jasper was going to be a good investment. A very good investment. He wasn’t predicting a sudden rise to fame and fortune, but a steady slow one, which was the best sort, because you developed the maturity to cope with it, and didn’t get burned out by lots of media attention. I was very happy for him. I was less happy for me – I kept being sick. If only I could have got hold of some decent well-cooked food, I think I would have felt much better. Gerda actually got up early one morning, and caught me being sick. She leapt to an instant conclusion.
“You better not be pregnant, young lady!” She looked at me more closely.
“You are, aren’t you. Well, you’re getting rid of it. I’m not having another squalling brat round here.” And with that, Gerda stormed out of the house, leaving me standing there, stunned. Pregnant? I couldn’t be – could I? It had only been the once – and the first time for both of us – and then we’d both decided this was something we wanted to wait for, something to share when it really was just the two of us together properly. I gave myself a mental shake. Gerda was probably judging me by her own history. But all the same…I took some money from the hoard that Jasper had given me, and went in search of a chemist’s shop. I was pregnant. My feet had brought me to the park where Jasper and I had met. My head was in a daze. Jasper had been gone six weeks now – so we’d conceived about seven weeks ago. The night we had decided he should go on this tour. But as I sat where Jasper and I had so often sat together, my mind began to calm down. Gerda always said that as soon as a man knew you were pregnant, he left you. But Jasper wasn’t like that. Jasper wouldn’t do that. But what would his parents say? Not so much his dad (who had been seriously miffed when Jasper told him that he’d be working for the next ten weeks), but his mother? She’d be back from Albania soon, and able to contact Jasper again. Would she be really annoyed? I didn’t think so, from what Jasper had said about her, but you never know. What I was going to have to do was write to Jasper. Now I wished it had been possible for him to give me a phone – but what use was a phone hidden under the floorboards? I’d had to stick the stamps onto the envelopes in advance else they got damp, and my precious book was well wrapped up. I wished it didn’t take so long for a letter to get to Jasper though. I’d mark this one VERY URGENT on the outside, I decided. I should hear back in about a week or two, depending on how quickly the post caught up with him. I could hold out against Gerda for that long. It felt like forever though. Gerda was constantly on at me, always telling me that there was no point in thinking that the father would come through, because he wouldn’t. And who was he, anyway? Did he have any money? And had I made an appointment at the clinic yet? As the week went on, she actually started getting violent with me, especially when she’d been drinking. I needed to get out of here – but I had to wait for Jasper’s letter. I could plan my escape though. I’d been jobhunting in any case: partly to get away from Gerda, and partly for Jasper’s and my new life together. If he went on tour again, I needed somewhere to live, and something to live off. I’d been looking in the next big town – near enough to get to for an interview, but far enough away from Gerda. Now I was following one of those jobs up, with some urgency. It was only as a dishwasher in a diner – long hours and low pay – but I figured it would keep me until Jasper got back. I came out with a job – I’d get fed there, so it didn’t matter that the pay was low. And with a suggestion as to where I could rent a room. I went to check it out. “Go and see Ma Woodward,” the waitress had said, and Joe, the guy who had just hired me, agreed.
“Tell her I sent you,” he said. “And tell her there’s still no-one can make key lime pie like she does. Tell her we still miss her!” So I did. She was cheerful, kind – and pretty shrewd too.
She showed me the largest flat in the block first. It was really one room, with two little cupboards off it for a bathroom and bedroom, but I thought it was heaven. Over-expensive heaven though.
“I’ll show you the smaller one then. I’ve got empty spaces at the moment, but they’ll fill up fast when the students start looking.” This one was smaller – but still a palace compared to my sleeping-bag-on-the-floor at Gerda’s. And it was also still too expensive. I could afford the rent – just – and it was within easy walking distance of the diner, but I couldn’t afford the deposit. She wanted five hundred, and I only had three hundred. Plus another thirty-seven, but that wasn’t going to swing it. Tears pricked at the back of my eyes.
“Have you anything needing a smaller deposit? I’ve only got three hundred.” I figured I might as well be honest with her, but I couldn’t stop my voice from quivering. She stopped talking and looked at me properly. Then she tilted my face to the light. The bruises from Gerda’s blows showed up quite clearly, I knew.
“Do you need to leave home because someone’s not treating you right?”
I nodded, the tears spilling over now. She pulled me towards her in a big bear hug.
“I remember a little girl who was getting slapped around and made a run for it. And she done okay, with a little help from others on the way. You say you got three hundred for a deposit? Well, I’ve got somewhere you can have for that, but it’s none too fancy, mind. The old man who was living there – he died two weeks back, and I haven’t had the time to fix it up yet. You come have a look at it and see what you think.” It was right next door – a tiny little shack of a place. “Everything works,” Ma Woodward said, as she showed me inside. “But it’s pretty shabby. If you want it, I don’t mind if you paint the walls or anything – normally I don’t allow that, but I figure you can’t make it any worse. I’ll put a new front door on it for you, with a better lock – the windows are pretty secure as long as you remember to shut them. What do you think?”
I looked at her gratefully. “It’s perfect.”
“Right. I’ll sort out the contract and get the door fixed. When are you starting at Joe’s?”
“On the first. Two weeks’ time. But I’d like to move in before I start, just to get settled?”
“You come back here in a week’s time, honey, and I’ll have it all ready for you. Will you be okay till then?”
I knew what she meant. “Yes. I’ll be okay till then.”
Now if only Jasper would write back! Whenever I could, I escaped to the park. I would sit there, remembering Jasper opposite me, and talk to the child that was going to be a mixture of me and Jasper. I would reassure her that she would be loved and wanted, tell her how wonderful her father was. Or sometimes, I thought it was a boy, and I would tell him that he would never be abandoned, or brought up by someone cold and uncaring. Finally, Jasper’s reply arrived! I seized it from the mailbox and raced off to the park with it. I sat down on our bench to read it – it was part type-written and part in Jasper’s well-known handwriting.
Dear Elf,
I got your letter and read your news in it. If this child is indeed mine, then I will be happy to provide for it, so far as I am able. You can contact me through my lawyers – the name and address followed – and a DNA test to establish paternity can be arranged. Should you wish to terminate the pregnancy, that is entirely your own decision.
I’m glad you enjoyed my music so much. With every best wish for your future, whatever it turns out to be.
With love from Jasper.
I sat there, stunned. I couldn’t believe it. But it was Jasper’s handwriting and signature – no question about it. Jasper was abandoning me.