Read Online The Ice Marathon by Rosen Trevithick - Free Book Online Page B

birth was nothing special – just an
ordinary cold November day with patchy cloud and a bracing breeze. No harp
playing, no glittering storks flying through the air, not even a full sun. How
could a day so bland deliver the most remarkable event of my life?
    Likewise, how could that sex, that peculiar, aggressive,
careless sex, have resulted in something so profoundly beautiful, in every
single way? Somebody so well formed that it was hard to believe that any part
of his creation was down to chance. He seemed like the most intentional thing
in the world. How could any new human have happened by mistake, let alone one
so perfect?
    The birth was as straightforward as pushing seven pounds
through your vagina could ever hope to be. The pain dragged on and on for what
felt like days. Towards the end, I actually felt I might pass out.
    And then there was Joseph.
    At first, he looked oily and slimy like a gremlin cocoon.
But then the doctor wrapped him in a cloth and put him in my arms. He had ten
perfect little fingers and ten perfect little toes. A cute horizontal line
indented his squashy nose. He opened his wet eyelids and there were his eyes –
shiny and blue like his father’s. When they looked up at me, so bright and
twinkling, I knew instinctively that there was nothing wrong with my son. He
was perfect.
    Simon, who was still wearing the shirt and suit trousers
that he’d put on for work, shuffled forward and moved the swaddling cloth so
that he could get a proper look at his son’s face. Instinctively, Joseph
reached out and grabbed onto his father’s finger. I heard Simon gasp. His eyes
widened. He looked at me and laughed with delight then looked back at his son.
It was a moment that would stay with me for the rest of my life.
    “So what do you think?” I asked.
    Simon choked on his words. He tried again, “Ah, he’s
rubbish,” he joked. “And so ugly.”
    I smiled. “He takes after his father then.”
    Simon chuckled. He grabbed his camera and was about to take
a picture, when suddenly he stopped smiling, and looked deep in thought. I was
worried for a moment. Eventually, he spat out, “You don’t want me to marry you,
do you?”
    I laughed out loud, and then, just to check he knew I’d
noticed the joke, I said the words, “Ha ha.” Then, for good measure, I added,
“Very funny.”
    “I’m not joking. Well, maybe I am about the marriage part.
But you don’t think … you don’t think that perhaps … You and me
should try and … well … you know … make a go of it?” Then he
quickly added, “I mean for Joseph’s sake, obviously.”
    “But we hate each other!” I laughed.
    “Do we?” he asked, studying me carefully.
    Before I could make sense of what he was trying to say,
Nicky came rushing through the door, carrying at least five bags of shopping.
She dropped them all in an instant, creating a clatter that suggested
breakages.
    “Oh my God!” she cried, rushing forward. I felt a brief pang
of guilt. I knew how much Nicky wanted a baby, and here I was popping one out
unplanned.
    “We’re going to call him Joseph,” I told her.
    “Oh!” she said, tapping him on his little nose. “It’s
perfect. Such a lovely gesture. Wait ‘til I tell Dave. He’ll be over the moon.”
    “Sorry!” said Simon, holding up his phone. “Already texted
him, and Joe’s mum.”
    “Aw!” sung Nicky, clutching her heart. “I bet she was
touched.”
    “Delighted.”
    I looked at my little boy and joked, “No pressure, but your
father and your namesake are both marathon runners.”
    “So, how much does …” Suddenly, Nicky’s phone began to
ring. “Sorry! Sorry! I’ll be right back!” she whispered, and hurried out of the
room.
    “I’m going to cancel my flight,” said Simon, quickly.
    “No, you’re not. You’ve been training for this for months.
It means the world to you.”
    “But …”
    “Plus, it cost thousands of pounds.”
    “Most of that was corporate