Strange Baby part 9

Blackout

‘Ladies and gentlemen, please do not adjust your television set. Normal service will be resumed as soon as possible.’
‘Oh isn’t that typical,’ Gail moans. ‘Just when it was getting to the good bit. Ange...Ange...wake up.’
‘What...oh...Gail...you’re back.’
‘Back? I haven’t been anywhere. We’ve been watching the telly for the last hour. At least I have.’
‘The car crashed, but I’m still alive. He tricked me again.’
‘What are you going on about? Who tricked you?’
‘Ssshhh. Baby’s listening. He can hear everything. He knows all my thoughts...knows how much I hate him.’
‘Ange, I don’t think you’re really awake yet.’
‘He killed Toby. I touched his gravestone. Then Toby got so angry because I smashed up his car. Dead or alive, it’s all the same to baby. He’s like God, he plays with time...he torments me with it. He likes hurting... likes killing...his hobby is inflicting pain. You’re dead too but you don’t know it yet...or maybe it’s still got to happen...I get so confused. You were burning...screaming like all the others...fire everywhere...then in my flat asking for coffee...you see, you see how he twists things...that’s Baby Time...everything jumbled, scattered. A horrible game...if only I could loose.’
‘Ange. Wake up for God’s sake!’
‘He kills everybody,’ clutching Gail’s arms. ‘But he won’t let me die... Gail...he won’t let me die!’
‘Ange. Ange!’ shaking her hard. ‘Snap out of it. You’re delirious.’
‘Gail...Gail?’ blinking, absorbing.
‘You were in some kind of dream.’
‘No...no,’ head shaking. ‘I tried that one, after you were killed. I pinched myself...then Toby was dead...blood all over the sheets...I was holding his...oh Gail (staring wildly) we’ve got to stop him!’
‘Ange!’ slapping her face. ‘Wake up. Wake up!’
Still...concentrating.
‘Ange...?’
Echoing.
‘Do you understand? Do you know where you are?’
Slowly looking around, as a stranger in a new land. The everyday lined with terror, the ordinary emerging form a basement of chaos. Gradually an underlining cognisance appears, the temporary make up of awareness animating her face, a part time lucidity moving her lips.
‘Gail...I was going under...’
‘You were ranting.’
‘I was?’
‘Yeah. Something about a baby.’
‘Baby?’ looking down at her bulbous belly. ‘My God, it’s got so big!’
‘That’s not surprising, you’re due in two weeks.’
‘No, no, that can’t be. It’s too quick!’
‘Well it’s got to come out sometime. I thought you’d be pleased, or are you still having trouble with Toby?’
‘I’ve got to stop it, but I don’t know how.’
‘I know he had a few doubts in the beginning, but the last time I spoke to him he was full of it; dotting father, full throttle, you know.’
‘Got to...got to...’ heaving her burdened torso from the sofa. ‘Must be some way.’
‘Ange...don’t go off again!’

Stumbling under her own weight.
‘Oh, sorry madam.’
‘What?’
‘Didn’t see you. I believe your friend is waiting for you at table nine.’
‘Table...where?’
‘Allow me.’ The olive skinned waiter with a gold tooth smile, leads her through the crowded restaurant to a table decked with white linen, next to the window. An immaculate slide of the chair as she sits down, a courteous nod to Gail, sipping Martini, then an adroit, Brylcreamed glide to his next mission. ‘I ordered you an orange juice. I thought that best, considering,’ Gail says, pointing her glass at Angelica’s taught midriff.
‘Oh my God, it’s got so big!’
‘That’s not surprising, you’re due in two weeks.’
‘Two weeks! No, that can’t be.’
Bloody good job too. I’ve got cramp everywhere. You can’t swing a cat in here. No wonder babies come out of this place crying.

I’ve got to stop you.

‘What are you hoping for, a boy or a girl?’ Gail asks, completely unaware of her friend’s inner struggle.

I’ve got to stop you escaping.
Oh yeah Mumsy. You and whose army? I can muscle out of here any time I want!

‘Girls are better when they’re young, but more of a worry when they get older...at least that’s what my dad says.’

So you can go on killing...no way.
We’ve been here before. You could try another balcony, or there’s a Ford Fiesta outside, plenty of things to smash into. Frankly I wouldn’t bother. All the shine has gone out of our relationship. It’s definitely time for this big boy to bail out!

‘I suppose Toby wants a boy, men always do.’

I know what to do now...cut your fucking head off when it pushes through!
Charming! Other babies get cuddles and goo goo ga. I get a machete! Well Mother Dear, if you think I’m gonner give you even half a chance...

‘Ange, are you all right?’

Cut you to pieces!

Oh no...you’re not making dog meat out of me!

‘Ange...you’re all wet...look. Christ Ange, you’re not going to drop it here are you?’

Cut your filthy heart out!

So you want to play with knives eh? Look and learn girl, ’cause here comes the master!

A wriggle, a giggle, a familiar force pinning her back. A thin finger of steel stabbing up through her stomach. Angelica’s screaming mouth widening in complete symmetry to the agonising split being hacked in her belly. Through a curtain of blood she sees two baby hands pushing the wound open, a sinister sun rising in commando kit, replete with fully loaded friend hung across his chest, jumping onto the table, eyes darting round. The shrieking panic of the other diners, crashing tables, smashing glass, falling distant in her ears. Her midget executioner, aiming with a cheery shout, ‘Right, Ladies and Gentlemen...who’s first?’ Angelica’s last perception, baby’s gabber companion commencing its murderous monologue.