Emily Taylor - The Teenage Mum Page 5

  Maybe I just need a break from Camillo. I could go to Juno and stay with Freud but Janice's offer to come to Zwingly and learn to sing is much more tempting. I put on my sexy green knickers and summer dress, pack my bag and wander along the beach to see Azziz.

  'Zwingly?' I say.

  'Zwingly,' answers Azziz. 'I'm not sure you are grown up enough to visit Zwingly.'

  'You had a big party to celebrate my womanhood and now I'm too much of a baby to go visit Zwingly.' I snarl. I am a grumpy guts at the moment.

  'Alright, alright,' says Azziz. 'But do behave, there's some very charming people there.'

  I can't see that being a problem. I'm no push over. Jesus and Azziz are very charming and they are people some the time. I've resisted their charms so far. No problem at all. Well not much anyway!

  Azziz holds my hand and says, 'Let's go, we'll start in the town of Mos Eisley.'

  We arrive in the desert on the fringes of a town made of rundown concrete buildings and mud brick houses. The roar of space ships and fighters coming and going from the town's spaceport is deafening. The ground shakes as they pass low overhead and zoom off into space. Walking into town along the rough dirt streets, we dodge around space scooters and groups of aliens on foot. There's an atmosphere of menace hanging in the air, like when the space scooters came to Camillo. The place is familiar; I get a feeling of déjà vue, like I've been here before.

  I look at Azziz. Seeing my puzzled expression he simply says, 'Star Wars.'

  That's it, the frontier town with the rough bar.

  'Shall we go to Chalmun's, the spaceport cantina?' asks Azziz.

  'No,' I say bluntly, 'I don't want a misadventure today, I just want out of here.'

  'In a moment,' says Azziz. 'I came here so you can see that Zwingly is a tough asteroid. The misfits of the universe tend to hang out here. You need to be careful. There's some lovely people, I hang out here lots. But be careful, you can easily get your fingers burned.'

  'Did they film Star Wars here?' I ask.

  'It saved a fortune in production costs and casting,' says Azziz, giving me a wink. 'The biggest problem was security to protect the crew.' He offers me his hand; not a moment too soon either, I'm happy to be out of here.

  We arrive on a white tropical beach. The pinkish white sand is lovely and soft between my toes. Ghost crabs scurry up and down the beach, playing tag with the gentle waves. Palm leaves rattle in the wind and, looking up, I see frigate birds hovering effortlessly high above, silhouetted against the puffy clouds.

  This is more like it.

  The screech of feedback from a speaker makes me jump, then a familiar reggae beat starts up from a bright orange beach bar just along the beach. 'No woman, no cry,' blasts out from the sound system.

  'Great,' says Azziz, who has changed to human form. He has a neatly trimmed growth of stubble on his chin, and wearing white trousers and an expensive aqua blue linen shirt, he looks like a millionaire playboy. 'Bob's playing, there'll be a good crowd today,' he says, and we splash along the beach still holding hands.

  The beach bar is very basic with rough wooden seats and a stone floor but is bright and cheerful and oozes good vibes. All of the tables are taken, and there's people dancing on the beach.

  There's a couple of burly security guards sitting in the shade, polishing their weapons. They look familiar. They are familiar! It’s Sarge and Clutch from Abdullah's seedy penthouse. I surprise them by giving them a big hug. It’s so neat to see them. They're as happy to see someone familiar as I am. I like them but do wonder what virtues they have which warranted Zeus bringing them up here. Maybe he just needed a couple of tough guys. I buy them a beer and myself a coke and we chat in Arabic. They're happy up here. It's paradise for them, just as Allah had promised. They do the same job they have always done, acting as bouncers and bodyguards but they get to do it on Zwingly; there's lots of sunshine, beautiful people and plenty of action!

  A good looking guy wearing a worn leather jacket, jeans and shades comes and asks me to dance. There's something of a rebel in him. He's hot! He's a good dancer too and spins me around like a feather.

  'What's your name?' he asks, when we pause to catch our breath.

  'Emily,' I answer shyly.

  'Emily, what a lovely name. Is it okay if I call you Em?'

  'That's fine,' I stammer, feeling all hot and flushed.

  'I haven't seen you before, you're new.'

  'I'm just here for a singing lesson. Do you know where Janice lives?'

  'Of course, she lives down the beach. I'm surprised she's not here, I'll walk you down to her place if you like.'

  I would like, very much!

  He whispers, 'Catch me!' in my ear and runs off down the beach.

  He's fast, but I catch him and push him in the water. He picks me up and throws me in, then dives on me and we wrestle in the shallows. Before I know it we're kissing, then we're making love in the sand. Oops! But it is wonderful.

  I make it to Janice's house a week later.

  She has me sing, I'm leaving one a jet plane. It's wonderful watching her face; she’s tries so hard to maintain an even smile but as I hit the high notes, she cringes, pulling her neck in like a tortoise.

  'Great,' she says. 'We have a little bit of work to do, but that's why you're here. I do enjoy a good challenge.'

  And a challenge I am. On day two, she gives me a shot of Southern Comfort to loosen up my vocal chords. 'It does the trick for me,' she says, taking a slug from the bottle.

  It's rough stuff but does loosen up my vocal chords. She has me practicing my scales and does her best to stop me yelling and screeching. My boyfriend, James, comes along sometimes and sings too. He has such a sexy voice. When we all sing together, if I don't sing too loud, we sound just great.

  My moods are up and down and all over the place and my periods have stopped. I'm in a mess, a very happy mess. It's falling in love that's done it, that's what it is.

  It's great hanging out with James. We go into Port Royal in the evenings and dine in restaurants with all the famous people, then go dancing. It's wonderful being a grown up and doing grown up stuff.

  I see Azziz sometimes, he says he's happy cos I'm happy but he doesn't look it. Him and James have a fight. James is ever so brave and gets a couple of good punches in, but does get beat up. I hit Azziz as hard as I can and won't talk to him anymore. He's probably just jealous. James's pretty face gets a fat lip and a black eye, which makes him look like a panda.

  On Sunday afternoons we have jam sessions on the beach in front of Janice's. The Stones come, Jim Morrison, Jimmy Hendrix and lots of other dead musicians. They know each other so well that they make amazing music. It flows randomly about the place while always moving forward, like a river washing us all along with it.

  I'm getting more confident now and take the microphone and sing; I even do some solo bits. It's so neat to be able to sing. Thanks Janice.

  I drink rum punch and smoke the sweet cigarettes they pass around. I get happy as, then throw up everywhere and can't even look at food for two days. I stick to fizzy water after that.

  I'm enjoying myself so much that I lose track of time.

  Then, disaster! We're in a gay club; it's one of James's favourite hangouts. His friends are really cool and we have good fun with them but I do find it a bit odd seeing blokes snogging blokes and girls kissing passionately. I even saw a girl with her head up inside another girl's T-shirt. I can't wait to tell Annie, she won't believe me! Anyway, this boy comes in and slaps James across the face, like girly like. Then James bursts into tears and next minute they're snogging! I'm devastated. James mumbles, 'Sorry, I had a tiff with Timmy and was just trying to get back at him.'

  He doesn't love me, I've been used! What's more he left me for him. Him! For a bloke!

  All he can say is sorry after I've given him my body. Bastard!

  I punch him so hard he'll never forget, set fire to his apartment with his precious records and his awards from
Hollywood, grab my bag and head for home.

  8.

  Jesus is waiting for me. I'm so pissed off that I hit him when he tries to give me a hug. He comes back later to find me upside down with my head stuck in the corner of the sofa sobbing. 'Pull your head in woman,' he says.

  'Go away!' I scream.

  He taps me on the shoulder a few minutes later and says, 'Em, drink this down. It'll make you feel better.'

  His hot toddy burns its way down my throat, sending shudders through my body, but does the trick. I burst onto tears and cuddle up against Jesus.

  He's been looking after my place. The lawns are mown, the garden is weeded and dinner is cooked. It's almost too much. No wonder he's got so many followers. Azziz and Janice come round and we have dinner. It's all laughter and tears. The tears being all mine. After dinner we sing the most depressing blues and country and western songs that Janice can think of. They make me laugh. I feel like shite but it's so good to have friends.

  My cottage needs redecorating. I don't like the colour. The aqua marine bathroom is okay but everything else needs changing. I want the living room to be bright yellow, my bedroom purple, the other bedroom red and the toilet green, and I want it to happen now.

  Jesus, Azziz and Janice help. We have good fun. We sing and splash paint on each other and I change my mind all the time. I don't like the red bedroom so we paint it blue. The green in the toilet makes me throw up, literally, I actually throw up, so we paint it orange and Janice uses a football to make big yellow blobs all over the walls.

  My body has been going through all sorts of changes the last couple of years. I like the way it is shaping up, with all the curves and dips. It seems to be having another growing spurt. When will it stop? My nipples hurt and my boobs are growing bigger. I don't want them too big, they are just fine like they are. Stop, stop, stop!

  I've missed another period too.

  I want to go and see Castor, but go to see Pollux instead.

  He looks me up and down, looks serious for a moment, then winks and in a big loud voice that I'm sure can be heard all over the universe says, 'Congratulations Emily, you're pregnant!'

  I don't know whether to jump for joy or run around screaming. I hope it's not that bastard James. If it's his, I don't want it, I want to get rid of it, right now.

  There's no space in the moon so I jump up and down a few times on the spot, then gather my wits. 'Do you mind if I go and see Castor?' I ask.

  'Go ahead,' says Pollux.

  Bing!

  I'm in Castors moon. He looks happy. I'm not, I start crying.

  'Come close,' whispers Castor.

  I put my ear right up against his lips and he whispers, 'It's seven weeks old.'

  'Yes!' I shout and jump in the air, hitting by head on the roof. Once I've picked myself up, I give Castor a big kiss. Yes, Zula is the dad!

  Seven weeks, no wonder I've been feeling weird!

  I sit there looking down on Camillo and thinking about my baby. Next year it'll be down there, a new little person, running about. How neat!

  'Castor, give me the rundown.'

  'Right, pregnancy,' he says, flicking up some web pages. The first one we read treats it like it's a disease that's best avoided, giving ten ways to avoid catching it, then listing the signs and symptoms to watch out for if you have caught it and methods of curing it, like killing the baby dead. Castor finds a friendlier page that mirrors my feelings. Now I know Azulay is the dad, I'm happy to be pregnant

  'Okay, here we go,' says Castor, 'Fatigue, feeling extremely tired at any time of the day or night.'

  'Yes.'

  'Tender breasts, slightly swollen.'

  'Yes.'

  'Nipples hurting.'

  'A little bit.'

  'Funny coloured circle around the nipple.'

  I have a quick check, 'No.'

  'Headaches.'

  'Yes.'

  'That's the hormones,' says Castor. 'They cause you guys so much trouble. Next, dizziness and fainting'

  'Yes.'

  'Odd smells suddenly bother you.'

  'Ummm, yes.'

  'Mood swings.'

  'Yes!'

  'Periods light or missed.'

  'Yes.'

  'You don't like things that you normally like, and crave things you normally don't like.'

  'Yes, I had to have burnt toast this morning, lots of it.'

  Castor stops reading and says, 'Large bump appearing in tummy.'

  I pull up my T-shirt and we both look. I like to think that I can see the tiniest bump at the very bottom. 'Yes!' I say, delighted with myself.

  Jesus and Azziz are at my cottage. Azziz has a cut on his head that is bleeding down his face. I get him to sit down and hold a rag on the cut until the bleeding's stopped, then I clean the wound and Jesus stitches him up.

  'It doesn't look like you slipped on the bath mat,' I say to Azziz. 'What happened?'

  'I was just having a word with your friend James.'

  'He's not my friend,' I say, stomping my foot.

  'He's not mine neither,' says Azziz.

  'I can see,' I say, wiping away some blood that's seeping from his wound.

  'You'll be delighted to know that his friend Timmy as dumped him.'

  'Good,' I say triumphantly.

  'Anyway,' says Azziz, 'I've been having a word to him about supporting his baby-'

  'It's not that slimeball's baby. I was pregnant before I went to Zwingly. I'm seven weeks pregnant.'

  'Seven weeks!' says Azziz, adding things up in his head. 'There was only me and Jesus on Camillo -'

  He doesn't finish his sentence because Jesus hits him really hard, knocking him across against the wall on the other side of the room. I've never seen Jesus mad before. His eyes get huge and round and his crown of spikes glows red.

  'NO!' I shout, but they're not listening.

  They are like a couple of robots fighting. They throw each other around, smashing up my cottage. I've got to stop them before they hurt each other. I grab the photon canon from my wardrobe and fire a shot between them, knocking a huge hole in the front wall.

  'Stop!' I yell. 'You're not the dad, not Jesus not Azziz.' I fire another shot at the floor in front of them and they get blasted out through the hole in the wall. That worked. I hope they're okay.

  Once they've picked themselves groggily off my front lawn, I march them on my sofa, still pointing my canon at them and clarify things. 'Boys, neither of you is the dad. Aren't congratulations in order? Isn't the tradition a bottle of champagne?'

  Jesus looks a bit sheepish, 'Well who is the father then?'

  'Not telling, it's none of your business!'

  'So it's an immaculate conception,' says Jesus.

  'You could say that,' I say, giving him a wink.

  All is quiet for a moment, then Azziz plucks a bottle of champagne out of mid-air and Jesus produces four glasses.

  Pop!

  Azziz uncorks the bottle and fills the glasses until they overflow sending waterfalls of bubbles cascading down the sides. He clicks his fingers and Zeus appears.

  He staggers around, high on ozone, and falls over. Jesus and Azziz help him to his feet, carefully place a glass of champagne in his hand, and he's gone again.

  'Silly old fart,' curses Azziz under his breath.

  Jesus raises his glass and says, 'I would like to propose a toast. To Em's baby.'

  Clink, clink, clink!

  The champagne tickles its way down my throat and makes my knees go all wobbly. It's a welcome relief after the evening's excitement.

  Once the bottle is empty, Azziz asks, 'If neither of us is Dad, can we be the God parents?'

  'What sort of example will you be?' I say, nodding my head towards my smashed up house.

  'Sorry,' says Jesus. 'It's just because we care about you.'

  'Alright then, but you must set a good example for him.' I give them a big hug. 'I've been a bit off lately, sorry about that.'

  When the zinod
es arrive to fix my cottage the next morning, I give them some plans. I couldn't sleep during the night so I redesigned my cottage, turning it into a house. I want lots of kids, so there's three new bedrooms. They look at the plans and change them around so they're much better. Zinodes are really good at that sort of thing. As soon as they've started work, I change my mind. I want lots of kids, but if I build lots of rooms, it'll never happen. Life's like that.

  They repair the holes in my walls and build an extra bedroom out the back. Azziz and Jesus come and help and it's all done by the evening, walls up, paint dry, furniture in.