Dot (Araminta Hall)

over.’
    Dot looked at Mavis to see if she’d heard any of this, but she was being helped into a wheelchair, her hospital gown flowing open, her body looking as if it had been in a war. ‘I’d better go.’ Dot raised her voice. ‘Bye, Mave, I’ll come again tomorrow.’
    ‘Oh, she’ll be home by tomorrow.’ The nurse smiled. ‘Later today most likely.’
    ‘Really?’
    The nurse laughed at this. ‘She’s only given birth. Women do it all the time.’
    Dot watched them leave, Mavis holding her daughter and waving from the chair, Sandra tripping along beside them, laughing with the nurse – or midwife, as Dot suddenly remembered they were called. She walked back the way she had come, down the sterile corridors, with everything changed.
    Dot arrived in the car park to see her mother leaning against their car with a Styrofoam cup in her hand. She was talking to a man who had his back to Dot and for a second she didn’t recognise him and wondered who her mother might know here that could make those pink spots bloom on her cheeks and the rash blossom down her neck. The man ran his fingers through his hair and suddenly Dot realised it was Mr Loveridge. Realised that Gerry was talking animatedly to her mother. Dot stopped, looking for somewhere to hide, but even the thought tired her out, made her feel she’d had enough. Gerry turned to go; he put his hand gently on her mother’s arm and they smiled at each other. He strode off towards his car, but then he saw Dot and changed direction so that within minutes he was standing in front of her.
    ‘What were you saying to my mum?’
    Gerry looked even more haggard in the bright sunlight. ‘Nothing. She was getting a coffee when I came downstairs. I was telling her about the birth.’
    ‘OK.’ Dot turned to go, but Gerry caught at her arm. She could feel her mother watching them from their car. ‘Did Mavis tell you who the father is?’
    Dot shook herself free from his grip and looked him in the eyes. ‘Yes. But I have no intention of telling you.’
    Gerry threw his hands up at this and they slapped down again surprisingly loudly on his thighs. ‘For God’s sake, Dot, this isn’t a game. He’s got to pay.’
    Dot felt as angry as she ever had. ‘What, like you?’
    ‘What?’
    ‘Mavis will tell you the name of Rose’s father when she’s ready. But you’ll probably get away with sleeping with me.’
    ‘What, but I thought … I mean … I thought you wanted to.’
    Dot laughed at this and for the first time she felt the power of sex. ‘I only slept with you because I thought you were my father.’ Of course she’d said the wrong words again. ‘Sorry, that came out wrong. But are you my dad?’
    ‘You don’t know who your dad is?’ His face softened and his jaw slackened. This day was turning out surprisingly for everyone.
    ‘No.’
    ‘Alice has never told you?’
    ‘Oh God, it’s not you, is it?’ Dot heard the pitch returning to her voice.
    ‘No! Shit, do you think I’d have slept with you if I’d thought there was the remotest possibility?’
    Dot wondered what her mother was thinking at this moment as she watched their exchange. ‘How can you be sure?’
    He almost shouted now. ‘Because I’ve never slept with your mother.’
    The power had gone now, evaporated like steam, and Dot felt young and foolish. ‘Do you know who my dad was?’
    Gerry nodded at this. ‘Go home and talk to your mum, Dot.’
    Dot turned to go but Gerry stopped her with his hand. ‘Christ, Dot, I’m sorry. I didn’t realise … I mean, what we did …’
    ‘It’s OK, I’m not planning on saying anything, unless you hassle Mave.’
    He shrugged. ‘Still …’ He rubbed his fingers hard against his temples. ‘Shit, I’ve got to get Mavis her stuff.’
    Dot walked away, aware that both her mother and Gerry were now watching her. She got into the car. She couldn’t believe it was only nine. It felt as though she’d lived a whole life since she’d woken up.
    ‘What was that about?’ Alice asked immediately.
    ‘He wants to know who the father is.’
    ‘Do you know?’
    ‘Yeah, but I’m not telling him.’
    ‘And you said that?’
    Dot nodded, wondering how they were saying these words. ‘He’s a wanker.’
    Alice started the car. ‘Yes. He probably is.’
    ‘Sandra asked me to say hi to you. She said thanks for driving me over.’
    ‘Really?’
    Dot let her head roll so that she could see her mother, smiling at the news. She was no