It was about a week or two into Year 8, when during registration, our form tutor introduced us to a new student. Amey. Yes, everyone was confused by the weird spelling of her name, even Amey herself, she said – well, I overheard her say. Anyway, as Amey stood at the front of the class as old Baders introduced her to us, there was a brief moment when our eyes met, and there was this weird feeling inside me that even to this day I don’t know what it was.

Throughout the year, Amey and I stayed in our two diferent social groups. She was a popular girl, and I was a loner. Whenever I could, I tried to look at her in a non-looking at her sort of way. Not only was she popular, but beautiful too. Defnitely not the one for me, or so I thought.

It was at the end of year disco when things started to change for me. I was sitting in my corner as usual, facing downwards, drinking a can of coke, and wondering exactly why I was there in the frst place, when this shadow appeared over me. I looked up, and as you’ve probably guessed, it was Amey.

“Hey. Want to dance, Matt?” she asked me.

I wasn’t sure what to say. I was sure she was taking the piss. I ended up saying something that came as a surprise to me. “How do you know my name?” my mouth asked.

Amey let out a small laugh.

“Oh come of it Matt. You’re in the same class as me for most lessons, and I live only a couple of streets away from you. Of course I know your name.” She paused. “So – do you want to dance or not?”

I stayed still for a moment, looking at her face. “You’re taking the piss, aren’t you?” I said tiredly, as if I had to put up with this sort of thing a lot, which in my opinion, I did.

“No, come on. What makes you think I’m taking the piss?” Amey said.

“Well, you’re a really beautiful, popular girl. I’m just a sad looser. You could have any boy in this school” (I was exaggerating a bit there – maybe just any boy in our year group). “You’ve got to be taking the piss. What would you want to dance with me for?”

Amey knelt down so her head was level with mine. “Look Matt,” she said quietly. “I’m not the kind of person who would take the piss. For a start, I’d have burst out laughing before I even got here. I’m asking you to dance because I fnd you attractive.” She paused. “Tell you what,” she said louder. “If you can tell me three good reasons why I shouldn’t fnd you attractive, I’ll go and fnd someone else.”

Well, that was it really. I stuttered trying to think of three things about me which would make Amey stop fnding me attractive, but I couldn’t. Every time I thought about something, I realised that it wasn’t true. I fnally realised that for the past couple of years, I had been constantly putting myself down.

In the end, we danced. I was surprised at how good I was. And throughout the summer holidays and throughout Year 9, we were inseparable. Amey really helped me boost my self confdence up. My schoolwork became better, I actually got friends, and I was a much more cheery person all round. And best of all, I had a girlfriend, who was probably the best looking girl in the school.

Come the summer holidays at the end of Year 9, we had started sleeping together a bit. Nothing more than sleeping though. We never had sex. Until Christmas. We did it four times through the three week Christmas holidays. I was a little nervous at it at frst, never having done it before, or even actually being told precisely how to do it, but I suppose it kind of came naturally to me. And I have to say, I enjoyed doing it, and I think Amey did as well.

What hindered my enjoyment was sometime during late February, when Amey told me she was pregnant.

All I could think of saying was “whoops”, but she seemed happy about it. But she wasn’t even ffteen at the time. Well, she was close enough to make no diference really, but still. It was still me who had made a girl pregnant. No wonder all I could say was “whoops”.

I looked at the clock above the TV. About ten to six. I stood up, and went back into the kitchen, clicked the kettle back on again, took a mug out of the cupboard, and started making myself a cofee. Kettle boiled, I poured the water into the mug, added the milk, stirred it, and took it out through the back door into the garden.

It was actually quite warm outside. Seemingly warmer than it was inside the house. I just sat down with my cofee on one of the garden chairs, and watched the birds and the next door neighbour’s cat as I thought about Amey.

Well, her being pregnant didn’t change anything between us. We were still madly in love with each other. I just wasn’t sure what to say to people when she started showing. I mean, it was obviously me who was the father, and I was always one of the good boys in the school. To other people, I was not the sort of person who would even think about underage sex. I remember that after Amey told me, I went back to having a low self-confdence, my schoolwork dropped again, and I tried closing myself of again to the world, and especially to Amey. That wasn’t that easy really. She was in most of my classes at school, lived only a couple of streets away from me, and everyone – students, teachers, EVERYONE knew we were in love.

I contemplated doing a runner. But then, even though I wasn’t ready to face up to fatherhood, Amey needed me. And her – no our – child needed me. I fnally got around to telling my parents what I had done to Amey early April. Well, I really had no choice as she was beginning to show. Surprisingly, they were OK about it. That helped. Mum and Dad didn’t mind too much. They were a little upset that a: that it had happened before Amey was even ffteen, and b: that I hadn’t told them until two months after Amey told me. I thought they were going to be really angry at me about it, but I was relieved that they weren’t. I always knew that I had great parents, and I hoped that me and Amey would be the same to our child.

Once I told my parents, I became more self-confdent again, and it wasn’t that long before the news seemed to spread throughout the school. Against my will, as I still wasn’t that happy about what I’d done, I became a bit of a minor celebrity between my classmates. I, someone who really only became known at school properly in the last year, had ‘done it with someone’ and ‘had proof’. Well, like I said at the time, if having my girlfriend pregnant wasn’t proof that she at least had had sex, I would like to see what would be proof! Most of the teachers at school weren’t that happy about it, and I could understand why. What I couldn’t understand though is why I was being kept under close watch. Apparently, it ‘ruined the school’s image’, and (from what I heard), they were trying to catch me out so they could get rid of me. No chance. I had never done anything wrong at school, well, not with a good reason anyway.

There was this one assembly sometime in June though, where the Head announced that “Because of some recent events with students in this school recently, for the next couple of weeks, we will be focusing our tutorial sessions on the efects of teenage pregnancies”.

He didn’t do a very good job of hiding the fact that Amey and myself were the ‘recent events’, and the person behind me patted me on the shoulder, and someone near the back of the hall shouted “Way to go Matt!” and everyone started cheering for some reason. I just buried my beetroot-red head in my chest, and cringed, just thankful that Amey wasn’t there.

As I remembered the look on the head’s face, I laughed so much I spilt my cofee down my front. He was not an amused little bunny, as my mum would say. After shouting “Silence!” a few times to no avail, he left the hall in a huf, and as he went past, he grabbed my shoulder and pulled me out of the hall and to his office.

“Sit,” he commanded pointing to one of the chairs outside his office, then went in and slammed the door. After a while, he opened the door. Still red in the face, but calmer, he said “In”, using simple commands as if I was a dog. I went in, and stood in front of his desk as he sat down behind.

“You have caused a disturbance Matthew,” he said to me.

“Me? It wasn’t me, it was…” I said. The Head cut me of.

“Silence. You will have a chance to talk later. This is one of the best schools in this area. What you have done to Amey has put the reputation of this school down. You are two good students, a couple of the best in your Year group.” He went through saying stuf like how disappointed in me he was, how I was treating this serious matter as a game of some sort, while Amey was pregnant, and then he hit on the fnal bombshell. “What happened this morning was the last straw Matthew. I am suspending you from this school until the end of the year. You will start again in September, and I don’t want any more repeats of this morning. I will allow you back for your exams in a couple of weeks, but nothing else. I will expect you to be in your correct uniform, stay for the exam, then leave the school at the end.” He paused. “You may now say what you were going to say.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. He was suspending me? For what exactly? OK, so I had made Amey pregnant, but there was nothing else to it than that.

I swallowed. “With respect, Sir,” I started, honestly, “It wasn’t me who caused what happened in the assembly this morning. I may have made Amey pregnant, but I’m not that happy about it really, Sir. I mean, I am, as it’s my child, but I don’t like the fact that we’re only ffteen still, Sir. And I don’t like the fact that I’ve been treated the way I am, Sir, by everyone. All my friends have made it sound like a great thing, and most of the teachers have made it sound worse than it really is, Sir.”

The Head was watching me with an emotionless face, but something in me told me that he understood what I was talking about.

“This may sound weird, Sir, but I’m glad you’re suspending me. Not because I don’t want to come in to school, Sir, because I’d rather be here than doing nothing at home, but because of how everyone is treating me,” I said on a limb.

An awkward pause as I waited for the Head’s response, not knowing what it was going to be.

“I understand Matthew,” the Head said with a lighter tone, but still hard. “By the way, tell Amey that she won’t have to come in until September either.”

“You’re suspending her too?” I said shocked.

“Oh no,” he said with a hint of a laugh – at my expense. I think he was planning that. “I’m just letting her have some time of, what with her condition.”

“Oh, right.” I said relieved.

So that was it. I had been suspended from school, for the sole basic reason that I had made Amey pregnant.

I fnished my cofee, and went back inside. 6.15. I rinsed the mug out, and left it to drain on the rack beside the sink. I went back into my bedroom, collected my clothes for work, and went into the bathroom. I turned the shower on, and got under the steamy hot waterfall.

It was weird watching Amey’s bump grow like it did. To me anyway, it seemed as if it all grew in the last month or so. We were still in love. There was no way that this was an unwanted baby. Unexpected and unplanned maybe, but not unwanted. It was ours.

We were told the due date for the baby midway through August. September 16th. It was funny. It was two days after my own birthday. We had a laugh over that, saying it would be easy for Amey to remember both of them, but not necessarily the rest of our families!

I did return to school at the beginning of the autumn term, but obviously, Amey did not. I was given her work to take back to her. On the thirteenth (which I remember distinctively as being a Friday), during lunch hour at school, the Head came up to me. I was thinking ‘Uh oh. What have I done now’ as he took me to his office.

“Matthew,” he said in a serious, but not harsh, tone. “We’ve just got a message that Amey’s had to be rushed to hospital.”

“What’s happened?” I practically shouted. “Oh no, Amey. Our baby. It’s OK isn’t it? This usually happens? Doesn’t it?” I said, calmer, but still frightened.

“Calm down, Matthew,” the Head said, managing to keep calm himself. I could tell he was genuinely concerned. “I’m letting you go up to the hospital this afternoon if you want so you can be with her.”

“If I want? Of course I bloody want to. This is my girlfriend we’re talking about here. Amey’s just been rushed to hospital, and you’re asking if I want to go?” I said, loosing my cool again. Then as a reprise, “sorry for shouting at you, Sir.”

“It’s OK. I understand,” the Head said.

I couldn’t get to the hospital fast enough, taking only ten minutes to walk across town. Amey was my life. If anything happened to her, I wouldn’t know what to do. Especially if we lost the baby too. The doctors were no help at telling me anything. They just told me that it was OK, and that this sort of thing happens a lot with young pregnancies, and not to panic. That was the part that really annoyed me. One way to make someone panic is to tell them not to. They wouldn’t even let me see her. I just had to wait in the hospital waiting room. Whenever a doctor came around the corner, I would look up expectantly, but nothing. I was there for four hours, alone and frightened. At six, my mum came up with Amey’s, and they sat with me. I was still frightened, but they shared my fear. We mostly sat in silence. Mum did try and occupy my mind with something else, such as the fact it was my 16th birthday the next day.

To be honest, I had forgotten about that. I had been thinking about Amey and our baby for the last week or so now, and even though my grandparents had asked about fve times what I wanted them to give me, I hadn’t really thought about it. But I was in no mood for celebrating at the moment, and the way things were going, it seemed as if nothing was going to change tomorrow either.

A few more hours passed, and the three of us just sat there. Mum was looking at the TV, though I doubt she was paying attention to what was on it, Amey’s mum was looking at a magazine, probably in a similar way, while I just sat there staring into space. Eventually, after what seemed like forever, one of the doctors came over, and started talking to our mums. I couldn’t believe that he was acting like I wasn’t there. Or if I was, like I was a little kid, and not like the worried father-to-be that I was. From what I could tell, they were going to have to get the baby out manually, or something. I wasn’t quite sure.

More waiting. Midnight came and went again. Mum, as the only qualifed midwife that the hospital could get at short notice, got called through to assist in the delivery. She was gone for a seemingly very long time. But when she came out, she was smiling.

“Do you want to come on through, Matt?” she said to me, nodding in the direction of Amey’s cubicle, with a grin on her face.

I looked up, saw she was smiling, and started smiling as well. “Is it OK? What is it?” I asked quietly.
“Go on in and have a look,” Mum replied.

I went through with as much nervousness as I have ever had in my life put together. As I passed through the curtains, I saw Amey sitting up in the bed, holding a small bundle. I walked over to the head of the bed, and crouched down so I was at Amey’s level.

“Hi, Dad,” she said to me, in a cheeky, but weary, sort of way. “Hi, Mum,” I said, returning the greeting.
“This is our daughter, Matt,” Amey said. “Isn’t it amazing?”

“It’s incredible,” I replied. “It’s…” I couldn’t think of any other words to describe it. For once in my life, I was responsible for something good. And there was this strange feeling that came over me that I can’t describe. I just know that I hadn’t felt it before, or since, and I doubt I’ll feel it again. “It’s incredible,” I repeated, quieter

“It’s one O’clock you know,” Amey said, softly.

“So?” I replied, blankly, still in my sense of awe.

“Well, that makes it the fourteenth, doesn’t it,” she said, still softly.

“And?” I couldn’t see where she was leading to with this.

She paused slightly, looked at the baby girl in her arms, and back at me. “Happy Birthday, Matt,” she whispered into my ear.

I moved my stare from the baby up to Amey’s face. I let out a small laugh.

So, I had the same birthday as my daughter. That could prove to be interesting later on in life.

We decided on the name Charlotte Hannah for her. Amey always liked the name Charlotte, and I always liked the name Hannah. We couldn’t quite decide on whose surname she was going to have though. At school, my friends suggested we fip a coin or something, others suggested that we skip on a surname altogether, while the one we decided on the end was to combine the two together, and for Amey and I to do the same if (when it was suggested, I corrected them to when) we decided to get married.

We decided to move in together once we had fnished our GCSE exams in July. Meanwhile, Amey and Charlotte stayed with Amey’s parents. Whenever I could, I tried to be with them. I didn’t want to be an absent father. I wanted to be right there with Amey in this. Charlotte was my daughter as well, and I must have been one of the proudest fathers ever.

I turned the shower water of, and stepped out onto the towel I pre-placed on the foor. I shot a glance to the clock on the wall. About half six. Then I had a sudden idea, and got dried and dressed quickly.

I’d never actually thought of doing this before, but I should really start doing it. I didn’t want Charlotte forgetting her mother. I walked over the hall, and knocked on Charlotte’s door. There was a quiet murmer from the far side of the wall where her bed was. I knocked again.

“Come on Charlie, Wake up,” I said in my usual light hearted way, trying to cheer myself up as much as I was trying to sound normal. Then, in a slightly evil way, “Or do you want me to come in and get you up?”

There was a small playful scream from behind the door, and I slowly and deliberately pushed her door open. Then with a roar, I ran in, and went over towards her bed. Charlotte was on top of her duvet now, and I knelt down beside her bed.

“Humm… There has to be a belly-button here somewhere,” I said acting confused, and ritually looking up her left arm. “I know, perhaps it’s under…” I stopped looking at her arm, and in a fash, pulled her pyjama top up so her belly-button was in view. “…here!” I said evilly again, and gave Charlotte a huge raspberry on it.

She was laughing really hard, because, I had found out that, like most young children, she was very ticklish, especially on her belly-button. I stood up, and backed away.

“Come on, get dressed then, Charlie,” I said in my fatherly sort of way. “I’m taking you somewhere special before school today.”

“OK,” she said, and I left the room, and went through to the kitchen and started cooking breakfast.

Charlotte came out of her bedroom wearing her school uniform about ten minutes later, and started asking me where I was going to be taking her.

“You’ll see,” I simply replied on all the umpteenth occasions that she asked. Eventually she gave up, and went through to the living room where I heard the TV start up. I carried on with the breakfast.

The frst year of my fatherhood was fairly difficult, as Amey and I still lived apart, and Charlotte, obviously, was with Amey. Even though I spent a lot of my time with them, I still didn’t feel involved enough. My dad said that I was lucky that I wasn’t living with them, as I was missing out on what he sarcastically called ‘the joys of early mornings’. In a way, I suppose he was right, but come the summer, after our GCSE’s, Amey’s uncle, who was one of these people who hire out houses, ofered us a bungalow in a nearby village, for quite a cheap rent for what it was, and after a while, and discussion with our respective parents, we decided to take him up on his ofer, and we moved in at the beginning of August.

We didn’t have that much stuf to start with, enough to get us started though. The bungalow was already part sorted – the kitchen was done with a cooker and everything, and there were carpets and curtains in all the rooms, so all we really needed was some basic kitchen utensils – kettle, toaster, that sort of stuf – and beds and chairs etc… . We brought Charlotte’s bed type thing with us, as well as Amey’s bed. We were going to bring mine, with the intention of pushing them both together as a double, but it sort of fell apart before it even left my bedroom.

Everyone was really helpful and kind – our neighbours were nicer than we’d thought they would have been, with a sixteen-year old couple and a one-year old child moving in. We were warned that some people may frown on such activities, but everyone seemed really nice. By the time we started college in September, we’d managed to get ourselves a living room suite, and a decent double bed (I’d been sleeping on my old mattress which wasn’t that comfortable!).

I felt a bit uneasy actually sharing a bed with Amey on a regular basis (ie every night), but it didn’t take long to get used to it.

Charlotte was growing really well. I had never really thought about how fast children grow in their frst year, but I was really surprised at how fast Charlotte was growing. She was a really sweet kid. I always said how much like Amey she looked, but Amey always said how much she looked like me. Amey’s uncle (the one who was renting us the house) was very traditional – he said that Charlotte had my nose, to which Amey promptly replied: “ah well, looks aren’t everything”.

Things were going great. We had really supportive families and neighbours; once we started college, one of us, usually Amey, would take Charlotte to my parents for the day, as her parents were both working, and my mum was available to look after her. At college, it was great. It may have been really unusual for people to start college as parents, especially at our age, but our tutors were really supportive – more than our teachers at school were. We tried Charlotte in the nursery at college, as because of our situation it was free, but she wasn’t that happy there, and three or four times during the day someone had to get Amey or myself to try and calm her down. So in the end, we just stuck with getting Mum to look after her. It was only a short distance from the college.

So we had ourselves settled down to a routine. I started learning to drive, of which I passed in January (frst time!), and so started driving to college, where we’d drop Charlotte of at Mum’s, and start the college day. Like I said, life was going great. Me and Amey were very much still in love with each other, and on the 23rd March, we became engaged.

I remember it well. After Amey put Charlotte to bed, we went to our room, and, putting it simply again, had sex, for the frst time since that Christmas where I got her pregnant. It was as good as before. We didn’t get to sleep until the early hours of the morning, and only woke up at quarter to nine when Charlotte started getting agitated over the fact that we hadn’t given her her breakfast yet. Amey said she wasn’t feeling to well, so when I got to college, she said she’d walk Charlotte to Mum’s, to get a bit of fresh air. It was a Thursday. On Thursdays, I didn’t get a chance to see Amey at college until our break, as our lessons were over the other side of the building to each other. So I didn’t know that she didn’t turn up. The frst I heard about it was when one of her classmates came up to me and asked why she wasn’t there.

That obviously got me worried. My girlfriend – no, my fancée – not showing up after I had just seen her an hour or so earlier, would of course get me worried. I didn’t have my phone with me, so I had to wait even longer to be able to use the college payphone. I frst phoned her mobile, not realising she left it in the car. It just rang and rang, while I was getting more and more worried.

Then I phoned Mum. Yes, thankfully she had dropped Charlotte of. That was something at least. But there was something not right. Why would Amey not show up at college after dropping our daughter of at Mum’s for the day? I decided to do something which I had not done at college so far – skive the lesson of. I had to fnd out what had happened.

I walked out to the car park, got into my car, and headed in the direction of Mum’s house.

I called Charlotte through from the living room for breakfast. It was defnitely something weird – I had actually cooked a breakfast this morning, simply because I had the time to. Charlotte loved it when I cooked a proper breakfast. It was a lot better than just a bowl of cereal, and she just lapped it up so fast, I’m not sure if she tasted it or not. Of course, I told her of for eating her food too fast, but I can’t have seemed too sincere, as I always thought it was kind of funny.

“So where are we going then, Dad?” she asked me once she had fnished. “You’ll see,” I said still sworn to secrecy.

“Oh, please tell me,” she pleaded.

“Nope.” I said simply, but with authority. I had fnished our breakfast by now, so I said “Go and get ready to leave.” Charlotte did so like the obedient girl she was. I was always amazed at what Charlotte was like, especially with me as her parent. I took the breakfast stuf through to the kitchen, and stacked it by the sink, ready to be washed up before I went to work. Charlotte appeared in the kitchen doorway wearing her coat.

“Come on, Dad. Please tell me where we’re going.” She asked once again.

I just shook my head, and walked past her, and picked the car keys from the phone table by the front door.

“Come on, lets go,” I said, cheerfully; the opposite to how I was mainly feeling. I felt kind of nervous. I hadn’t talked much about Amey to Charlotte. Charlotte knew that her mother had died when she was still a baby, but not much else. Scanning quickly through my memory, this was the frst time I could recall where I had, or anyone else for that matter, taken Charlotte to Amey’s grave.

Charlotte took the car keys from my ofered hand, and ran down the garden to the car while I locked the house up. When I got down to the car, she had already sat herself in her booster seat in the front passenger seat, and put the keys onto the drivers seat.

“Seatbelt,” I said to Charlotte, and heard the satisfying clunk of it being locked into place. I pulled mine over, and started the car. I had a quick look at the clock before pulling out of our parking space. Half an hour before we would normally be leaving. Plenty of time. Charlotte kept on asking me where we were going – I kept on pretending not to hear her. The cemetery was pretty much completely the opposite side of the village to where Charlotte’s school was, so right at the beginning of our ‘mystical journey’, she was wondering where we were going.

There were some unexpected roadworks on the road past my workplace on the way to the cemetery, and the hold-ups kept reminding me of when I found Amey.

It was while I was driving up to my Mum’s from the college. About one street away from her house, there was a long traffic queue. It wasn’t until I got closer that I realised that the hold up was being caused by an ambulance, and a couple of police cars. I didn’t think much of it really, until I was going past, and saw Amey’s college bag on the road. I stopped my car, and got out, leaving the door open, and causing more problems with the traffic. I couldn’t believe what I thought was happening.

“What’s happened?” I said to one of the police officers.

“Nothing much,” he replied. “Could you move your car along please, sir?”

“That person being put into the ambulance. Who is it?” I said, surprisingly calm, but with a racing heartbeat.

“Could you move along please, sir? You’re holding up the traffic.” He replied. I did so, and moved my car into a space further up the road. This time when I got out, I locked up, and returned to the scene.

“Look,” I said to the policeman again. “I need to know who is being put in the ambulance here. If it’s not the person I hope it isn’t, then I’ll leave without fuss.” I drew a breath, wondering if what I had just said made sense. “Please, tell me.”

The police officer sighed. “OK, if you really must know, the person hasn’t been identifed yet, but she seems to be about seventeen years old, with fairly longish brown hair,” he paused to consult his notepad.

“Is she about this tall,” I said, putting my hand a small distance away from my body, slightly higher than my own head, “with slightly tanned skin, and wearing jeans and a dark green t-shirt with a black coat?

“Yeah, that’s roughly what she looks like,” the policeman started. That was all I needed to hear. The policeman tried to stop me as I ducked under the incident tape, and ran to the ambulance before they closed the doors as the paramedics were about to do.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” I said to the paramedics as they started closing the doors. “That’s my girlfriend in there,” I said, climbing in. “Amey, you OK?” I said to her.

In hindsight, I realise I would have looked a complete idiot if it wasn’t Amey in the ambulance, but luckily (for that reason and that reason only) it was.

“Excuse me, but who are you?” one of the paramedics asked me.

“I’m Matt Thomas, this girl’s boyfriend,” I replied.

“You got proof that you know this girl?” the paramedic annoyingly asked me, although once again, in hindsight, it was a pretty sensible question, after all, they couldn’t just let anyone come in with her.

I angrily sighed, and took my wallet out of my pocket, where I kept a photo of the two of us from back a couple of years ago. “This proof enough? That’s me,” I said, pointing me out, “and that’s her”, doing likewise to Amey.

The ambulance rushed to the hospital, and while Amey was taken through to somewhere or another, I was once again left in the waiting room for news on what was happening with Amey. I didn’t even know what had happened for her to be taken to hospital anyway, just that it must have been something bad if there were two police cars at the scene as well.

According to the witnesses, she had been walking along the pavement, when a car came speeding around the corner, skidded on the newly-surfaced road, and hit Amey, knocking her into the road. Apparently, she would have been driven over by another car if it hadn’t have stopped just in time.

Nothing like that here though. Just boring old plain road works. Workmen digging the road up for something or another, which no one really needs.

We managed to get past the road works, and we got to the cemetery twenty minutes before Charlotte was due to start school. The two of us got out of the car, and with Charlotte holding my hand, we made our way through the gates, and towards where Amey’s grave was.

“Why are we here?” Charlotte asked me nervously.

Enough of the secrecy, I fgured, and replied by saying “We’re here to see your Mum”.

A look of confusion appeared over my daughter’s face, and her hand tightened her grip on mine. I suppose a graveyard is a bit of a scary place for a fve year old, but I thought it important for us to visit Amey, today of all days.

“Here we are,” I said as we came up to Amey’s headstone. Charlotte let go of my hand, and started reading the inscription out loud.

” ‘Amey Smith, fy… fyarn…’ what’s that word, Dad?” she asked looking up at me.

“Fiancée. That means we were going to get married.” I replied.

“Oh. ‘Fiancée of Matthew Thomas, mother of Charlotte Thomas-Smith’.” Charlotte looked up at me. “That’s me isn’t it?” she said. I nodded. Charlotte got back on to her reading. ” ‘An Angel of God’. Does that mean that Mum’s an angel?”

I thought about this for a moment, before replying, “Yes, I suppose it does.”

“Cool,” Charlotte said in her special way, making this short word lasting fve seconds. “My Mum is an angel.”

There was something about the way Charlotte said that, with a glint in her eye, that made me smile. Properly, the frst proper smile I had done all morning.

“Come on Charlie,” I said. “Let’s go. You’re going to be late for school if we stay any longer,” I said, and Charlotte grabbed hold of my hand. We walked about two steps before I lifted Charlotte of of the ground and onto my shoulders. She laughed happily as we made our way back to the car, and at least twice I heard her quietly say “Mummy’s an angel.” Each time she said it, I smiled. There was something about that that seemed to make her really happy. And when my daughter was happy, I was happy.

It seemed like Amey wasn’t doing to bad in the hospital. The doctors said that the car had only done her minor injuries – nothing too serious. I was thankful about that. I didn’t know how I would cope without her, especially with a one year old daughter. It would be diferent if it was a son, as I knew about being male, but I wasn’t sure how to react when she started maturing. I tried not to think about that. Amey woke up after a couple of worrying hours of me by her bedside.

“Hey Matt,” she said when she saw me.

“Amey. Thank God you’re alright. I’ve been really worried about you since we got here.” I said in a relieved sort of way.

“We? Who came with you?” she asked.

I realised then that she wasn’t conscious when I arrived at the scene of the accident, so wasn’t aware that I had come up in the ambulance with her. I briefy flled her in with my side of the story, starting with how some of her friends came to me asking where she was, how I rang her mobile, and in the end drove up to my Mum’s.

Amey didn’t seem to be hurt that much. She seemed to be a bit pale, and a but distant from the world, but I was certain that she was going to pull through it and instead of my original plan to phone Mum from the hospital to ask if she and Dad could look after Charlotte over night while I stayed at the hospital, I decided to go home. Amey agreed with that. She said that it would be better for me to go home where it would be easier for me to try and relax than in the hospital.

So, I did. I went home. Surprisingly, and annoyingly, I slept well. I woke up feeling good about myself, about life, and with a certain knowledge that Amey was going to be alright.

I went back up to the hospital before college, dropping Charlotte of at Mum’s on route. I was really cheerful as I walked into the Accident and Emergency section of the hospital. My good mood lasted a whole ten minutes. Once I got through the A&E’s admin system to Amey, I realised right away that something was wrong. The day before, she seemed to be distant. Now, she was very distant, and very pale.

She smiled a weak smile at me. I smiled back. “How are you feeling?” I asked.

“Come here Matt,” she said quietly.

I approached the side of her bed. Amey kissed me on the cheek.

“This is it. I’ve reached the end,” she said.

“What? What do you mean you’ve reached the end?” I wasn’t quite sure what she was saying. I knew what it sounded like, but I was sure it couldn’t have been.

“I’m dying Matt. It’s as if I’m being pulled away from this world to somewhere else. It’s hard to explain,” she paused. I just looked at her, still unsure of what she was saying. “I just know that this is the end.”

“No. You can’t die. You’re only sixteen. We’ve got a kid. We’re going to get married.” I then said what will probably be the stupidest thing I’ll ever say. “I can’t marry someone who’s dead.”

Amey laughed. She mouthed something. I asked what.
“Till death do us part,” she said. “Do you?”
It took me a while before I fgured out what she meant. “I do,” I replied. “So do I. Let’s have one last kiss.”

We kissed the last kiss of our life together, after a small improvised wedding ceremony. It may have not been official, but for the last two minutes of Amey’s life, she was my wife, and I was her husband.

“I love you,” she said. “And I know you’ll be a good father to our daughter. See you around, Matt.” She smiled.

“I love you too.” I replied, and smiled back.
Amey put her head on her pillow, and closed her eyes. And then she was gone.

I don’t really understand what exactly the reason was for her death, and horrible as it may seem, I don’t really care. It was some unseen complication when the car hit her or something. But to

me, Amey was always an angel. She helped me become more self confdent in myself. Without her, I don’t know where I would be now. I certainly wouldn’t be sitting in a car watching my daughter walk up the school path.

I know the day will come when I’ll have to let go of Charlotte too. She’ll grow up, and fnd someone to settle down with, but she’ll always be my little girl. I can look at Charlotte and think of all the good times I’ve had with Amey. She’s a link with the past, as well as a new hope for the future. And I know everything’s going to be OK. Amey or no Amey. I may fnd someone else, I may not. But whatever happens, memories like this last a lifetime.