The Key of My Heart Chapter 6

Chapter 6 What was I going to do? I couldn’t sit still – I started pacing round the park. Jasper didn’t want our baby – or me – any more. The letter was folded up tight in the pocket of my jeans. He must have talked to his dad – the letter had a decidedly legal flavour about it. What was I going to do? Where was I going to go? I had no plan for my life any more. And then it struck me. I did have somewhere I could go. I had a job and somewhere to live. But that was just meant to be a temporary thing – something to keep me going until Jasper and I…I turned my thoughts away from the future I had been expecting. Could I keep myself – and the baby – in those circumstances? But what choices did I have? Gerda wasn’t going to let me keep the child. And I didn’t think I could stand up to her alone for ever. There were supposed to be places that would help you – but where? How did I find them? I was surprised to find how protective I felt towards this little bundle of cells inside me, this growing life. I’d read once that by about nine weeks of gestation, the baby had a beating heart. Well, this baby’s heart was going to go on beating if I had anything to say in the matter. I sat down again, and started planning. I would need my precious things – and my birth certificate! Gerda kept all the birth certificates very carefully – I think because she needed them to claim benefits for us all. In two days’ time that little house would be mine to move in to. If I went and made an appointment at the clinic, that would get Gerda off my back – and maybe stop her hitting me. I didn’t want my child damaged.
Finally, I had a plan. It was a lousy plan, compared to the ones I had been making, but it was better than nothing. I took one last look round the park where I had been so happy, and said goodbye to it forever. It was the ninth week and I was getting seriously tired! The days were beginning to blur into one, and I was needing more and more sleep – but my music was still good. Chris was very pleased with how everything was going. Then my mum got back in touch! She was back in the country, shattered completely, but very pleased with what they’d achieved out there. I decided to tell her about Elf after she’d had a few days’ sleep – I didn’t think she’d take anything in at the moment. Surprise number two was a long text from my dad – who hadn’t spoken to me once since I told him what I was doing next. It was an answer to the question I’d asked him, about what happened when a child’s parents died. Especially what happened to their assets.
As I read it, scrolling down the screen, I grew more worried. According to my dad’s colleague, Elf’s assets should have been realised and put into trust for her. Then an income from the trust, for her support, would have been paid to whoever was looking after her. But the money would have been for spending on Elf. I had a feeling I knew just who the money had been spent on – and it wasn’t Elf! When she came of age however, any remaining assets would become hers. I pulled out a pad of paper and began writing to her straight away, telling her what my dad had said. Suddenly it struck me that I hadn’t heard from her for a while now – no letters at the last stop, which wasn’t too worrying, but none at this one either. And her previous letters had taken a while to catch up with us. I hoped she was okay. But maybe it had just been hard for her to get at her secret stuff without any of the others seeing – if one of the children had been ill for instance, then she’d have no privacy. And she would have got my letters to her; she would know how much I was looking forward to seeing her again. I’d finished the letter and actually gone out to post it myself – usually I gave all my post to Chris, and he sent it off with all his stuff, but I wanted Elf to get this as soon as possible, and I could just catch the last post if I was quick – when Chris came back in. He was extremely excited.
“Remember that batch of letters you answered, about three weeks back? Well, one of them was from a producer who’d happened to catch your show. And he was so impressed by your understanding of technique that he’s considering a record deal. Quite seriously.”
I couldn’t believe it! It was like a fairy tale. Chris went on for some time, outlining how it would all work out if the deal came off, what sort of income there might be, and so on. “I think you’d have got here anyway, Jasper. Probably in about five years’ time or so – you’ve got a lot of talent, and you work hard. You’ve just had a lucky break, early. Now you’ve got to decide how serious you are about all this. Every agent dreams of finding the next Norah Jones, but to be honest, what you really want are people who will work steadily and seriously – you can get just as rich with a stable of committed musicians as you can on the coat-tails of some super-star. And often, you’re working with nicer people.” I said I needed to discuss this with my parents: okay, I was nineteen and legally an adult, but I knew I wasn’t grown up yet, not fully. I’d been planning to start a music course in the new year, not embark upon a career, and there was a big difference between being a student and being, in effect, self-employed.
Chris agreed that this was sensible, and said that he would have suggested it if I hadn’t, but we did need to be reasonably brisk about it. And that the best time for this guy to see me – well, okay, hear me – was straight after my last engagement, so could we extend my tour time, so to speak, by another week or two? Another week or two? Another two weeks away from Elf. I wasn’t too keen on that – but I knew she loved me, knew she wouldn’t forget me. And if this came off, then we’d be on our way to having enough to live off. She’d need a job too, but between us, I could see how we could manage. When I proposed to her, we’d also be able to set a wedding date, knowing that we could make a life for ourselves. When I’d discussed this with my parents and everything was finalised, I’d write to her again, telling her my good news. Two days later, I was handing over half my deposit to Ma Woodward. I’d have to wait a couple of weeks to sign the contract: I wasn’t eighteen yet. But Ma Woodward said I could stay here, and she’d have the other half of the deposit when I signed the contract. She would trust me, and I would trust her. I looked her in the eyes and thanked her. I had a feeling she understood me very well. Along with my birth certificate, I’d found my parents’ marriage certificate, so I’d brought that away with me too – Gerda didn’t need it! The new door did look a lot more solid than the old one. As I climbed into bed that night, I was grateful beyond words for this little haven. Ma Woodward had been a bit apologetic about the age of the bed and bedding – though she assured me it had been washed – but after sleeping on the floor in a thin sleeping bag for so long, this was luxury. The neighbourhood wasn’t too pretty – there was a giant billboard and a huge flyover in one direction. And in the other direction I could see the warehouses down at the docks – and Joe’s, where I was working. The sea here wasn’t all blue and pretty like it is in pictures – it was more grey and oily! But I had got away from Gerda, and my baby was safe. I used the week before I started work to explore the neighbourhood a bit more. Not very far away was a small library. I hadn’t been to a library for years – not since I went to live with Gerda. She had no time for “all that book-nonsense your mother was so into.” It was a very small library! But sitting down and reading in a library again felt like coming home. They even had a tiny children’s corner – I caught myself thinking that I would bring my child here when he – or she – was old enough. I needed to start reading about pregnancy – I needed to know more than I’d learnt at school. I probably couldn’t give this baby the perfect start, but I would do the best I could manage. The other place I found near the library was a laundrette. I could have clean clothes and bedding! I was going to need some new clothes as well – the ones I’d bought from Gerda’s were definitely wearing out. But, somehow or another, I would make my money go round everything. And here I was, one week later, setting off for my first day at work. Jasper’s tour would be just finishing – and I was just starting something new. I couldn’t really plan for the future any more – I was just going to have to take it one week at a time, and see how it went. Maybe, one day, I’d be able to see a bit further ahead, but not at the moment.