Babies in Waiting (30 page)

‘We?’ said Rachel suspiciously.

Oh Lord. What was she going to do now?

‘You might as well come round,’ Louise said. ‘The flat’s in the middle of Kingston.’ And she gave Rachel the address.

She had about fifteen minutes. She knocked on Brian’s
bedroom door, expecting him still to be asleep, but he was up and showered and dressed, and was sitting at his computer.

‘My sister’s on her way over,’ Louise said without preamble. ‘It might be better if you’re not here.’

Brian turned to look at her. He looked different somehow, as if he had got some of his spirit back. ‘Why shouldn’t I meet your sister?’

‘Because . . .’ She couldn’t believe they were having this conversation. ‘Because she doesn’t even know you exist, let alone that you’re here, and I don’t feel like explaining it all to her now.’

Brian’s expression darkened. ‘So she thinks this baby was an immaculate conception? Wow. Only the second one in history. You’d think you’d have been on the news or something.’

‘Brian . . . I don’t have time to have this argument with you now. She’s on her way over. I will explain to her who you are and what the situation is, I’d just rather not do it . . .’

‘With me here?’ Brian was still sitting down. Did he not get the urgency? Why was he not up and finding his keys?

‘So, tell me, Louise, what
is
the situation? You didn’t mention me to the man whose company you were running, you haven’t mentioned me to your sister. You seem to be trying very hard to pretend I don’t exist. Meanwhile, I’ve given up my whole life, not to mention my job and my family, to be here for you and our baby.’

Louise knew she and Brian were due a discussion about
their situation. She just desperately wished it didn’t have to be now, with Rachel practically on the doorstep. But he’d provoked her now, and she was going to say her piece.

‘That’s complete bollocks, and you know it! You’re here because you didn’t have anywhere else to go, not because you want to be here. You wanted me to have an abortion, remember? We had a one-night stand, Brian. I am not the love of your life, and this baby is not your convenient new family. You don’t even like me, let alone care for me or this child, and to be honest, if I never saw you again, that would be fine with me.’ She glanced at her watch. ‘Look, Brian, I really can’t have this argument with you now—’

‘Because your sister might arrive and it all might impact on
your
family? Forgive me if I’m not full of sympathy.’

At that moment the door buzzer sounded. Brian looked bitterly satisfied. ‘There she is now. Well now, I’ll have to meet her, unless you expect me to hide in the bathroom or jump off the balcony.’

The balcony sounded like a good option, except for the fact that they were only two storeys up. Louise went to buzz Rachel in. She made one last attempt to plead with Brian.

‘Look, I’m sorry. I know we should have talked more, but can I just get through this morning with my sister? Things with her are difficult enough as it is. You and I can sit down this afternoon and thrash everything out. Please.’

Brian looked ready to argue more, but then his face softened a little. He could hardly miss her distress. ‘Okay. I’ll say hi and go out for a coffee.’

Rachel came bustling in, her arms full of shopping bags. She looked around at the chaotic living room, with its stack of boxes and a pile of Louise’s clothes on the sofa. ‘Wow! This is . . . nice. I’m sure you’ll make it cosy in no time at all!’ She looked for somewhere to dump all of her bags. Every surface was covered with boxes, so she piled the parcels below the window. Brian chose that moment to emerge from his room, with his jacket on. Freshly shaved and with his hair combed for the first time in days, he looked presentable. In fact he looked better than presentable, he looked downright handsome. ‘You must be Louise’s sister,’ he said smoothly, offering his hand.

‘Rachel,’ she said, breathlessly, smiling up at him. ‘And you are?’

‘Brian. Do excuse me, I was just going out. Lovely to meet you.’ He nodded politely to Louise, swung his laptop case on to his shoulder and was gone.

Louise took a deep breath and turned to her sister, prepared for a barrage of questions, but Rachel was silent, staring at the door where Brian had gone out. Her face was suddenly pale. ‘Is that . . .’ she said quietly.

‘The baby’s father. Yes. He arrived the other day. We’re not together, but . . .’

‘He’s married, Louise. He’s wearing a wedding ring.’

He was? Louise couldn’t remember Brian having worn his ring since he arrived. He must have put it on that morning. The bastard. Knowing that women always notice that sort of thing, it was his way of getting at her through Rachel.

‘Rachel—’ she began.

‘Don’t you speak to me. You’re having a baby with someone else’s husband. I . . . I don’t even know where to start.’

Louise took a deep breath. ‘I’m sorry you found out this way. I didn’t want you to—’

‘You think it matters how I found out? What about you? About what you’re doing? It’s disgusting.’

With anyone else, Louise would have lost her temper. She would have torn a strip off the person in question, as she had with Gemma, and told them to mind their own business. But this . . . this was her sister, with all the baggage that brought with it.

‘Rachel . . .’ she said again, in her most conciliatory tone. But her sister turned on her with the speed of a snake.

‘Don’t talk to me like that.’

‘Like what?’

‘Like you feel sorry for me, like I’m some kind of simpleminded charity case that you and Simon snigger about. I’m so, so sick of it.’

Louise was floored. She tried to speak, but Rachel ploughed on.

‘You know, I cannot believe you and I come from the same family. You seem to hate everything I believe in. Everything that matters to me. Sometimes I think you do this stuff because you hate me.’

Louise found herself raising her voice to Rachel’s level, just to be heard. ‘What the hell are you talking about?’

‘I always knew I wasn’t clever like you and Simon. Even when I was small. I knew I didn’t want a big important career, or to be able to make clever, unkind jokes at dinner parties like you do.’

‘Is that what you think I do?’

Rachel ignored her. ‘I just wanted a husband to love, and a nice home and a family. I know you think I married Richard for money, like some kind of tacky little golddigger, but for your information, I married him because I love him very much.’

‘I know . . .’ Louise tried to say.

‘Do you? Do you know? Or do you just think you know all about me? Silly little Rachel, staying at home, going out to get her hair done and her nails done. Someone to laugh at. Someone stupid.’

‘I’ve never laughed at you,’ Louise said firmly.

‘You’ve also never really listened to me either,’ said Rachel, her voice softening slightly. ‘You know I’ve been trying for a baby for years now, and I think you think I’m just being silly, that it’s Rachel’s little obsession, wanting a baby to keep her occupied.’

‘I don’t think that—’

‘But you have no idea what it feels like to want something so much that every part of you hurts. To spend every single month praying . . .
begging
your body not to bleed. I used to love making love with my husband. Now it’s this horrible, sad, mechanical thing we do on the right days of the month. I can’t remember what it’s like to have sex for the pleasure of it any more.’

‘I’m sorry . . .’

‘Are you? Are you? You’ve never even
wanted
a baby, and here you are, three years older than me, and pregnant without even trying. And you never even bothered to tell me that the father was someone else’s
husband
.’

‘It’s not exactly something I’m proud of.’

‘Tell me, does he have other children?’

‘Two daughters.’

Rachel snorted and walked away. ‘It’s like you’re trying to make a mockery of everything I’ve ever wanted. It’s repulsive.’ Then she turned, and said very softly, ‘Do you know what my biggest fear is? That Richard will find some young, gorgeous bit on the side, and she’ll get pregnant. I think . . . no, I know . . . I would kill myself. Do you have any idea what women like you do to women like me?’

Finally, Louise exploded. ‘For fuck’s sake, Rachel, can you cut back a bit on the histrionics? For once, this situation is not all about you. And what do you mean women like me?’

‘Women like you who sleep with other women’s husbands.’

‘There’s no point in my trying to defend myself. No point in my trying to tell you the story of what happened with Brian and me, or what happened with Brian and his wife. You’ve made up your mind that I’m this evil, awful person, and the reasons why have nothing at all to do with me, it’s all your own personal stuff. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m thirty-six weeks pregnant, what life I have is all in boxes and I’ve had enough of you and everyone
else crapping on me for today, thanks. The door’s there.’

Rachel looked as if Louise had slapped her. She went white, and then very red. She scooped up her handbag and stalked out of the door, leaving it open behind her. Louise went to close it and make sure it was locked. Then she went back into her bedroom and sat on the bed.

It would have been a good time to have a cry, if she’d been that kind of woman, but she wasn’t. She wished she could ring Simon, but he’d gone away for the weekend with friends to a cottage in remotest Wales. Even if he had a mobile signal, which she doubted, it wasn’t really fair to ruin his weekend by ringing up to whinge that she’d had a fight with her little sister. They weren’t six any more after all. Right at that moment, things felt very bleak. Toni wasn’t speaking to her, Adam wasn’t speaking to her. She felt terribly, terribly alone. For the first time since she decided to keep the baby, she found herself wondering whether the price was too high. She’d given up a very successful career, her home and her social circle in Leeds to sit alone in a rented flat in Kingston without a single friend to talk to.

She knew she should get on with unpacking, but she just didn’t have the energy. So she turned on her laptop and clicked through to the baby site. She was a fairly regular visitor to the forum, although she seldom posted. It was nice to read everyone’s news . . . she recognised lots of the user names, and quite a few women had posted pictures of their growing bellies. It was odd to think of the thousand-odd women across the UK who had joined this group, who would all give birth in September and raise babies of
the same age, experiencing all the same milestones. At the moment, it was the closest thing to friendship she had. Pathetic. She considered writing a post about her awful week, but then she imagined how it would read to others: ‘Got kicked out of the house by my new boyfriend (and boss), got snubbed by my friends and yelled at by my sister. Now sharing a flat with a smelly squatter, a.k.a. the father of my unborn child.’ It made her sound like a character on one of those terrifying morning chat shows. They’d assume she lived in a caravan and was missing some of her teeth. Besides, Toni was a member of the group too, and a frequent poster, and Louise was not going to give her the satisfaction of seeing how low she was.

She curled up on the bed and considered just going to sleep, but then she heard Brian’s key in the lock. She shuffled down the bed and gently kicked her door closed. After a while she could hear him moving around in the living room. It sounded like he was heaving boxes around. She couldn’t leave him to do her unpacking, so she dragged herself off the bed and went through. She smelt fresh coffee, and Brian was kneeling on the floor, pushing books into the bookcase. He looked up and said, ‘I made a pot of decaff for you, and there are some nice pastries. There’s a great bakery just around the corner.’ Even though he’d been an arse and caused her row with Rachel, it felt like the first nice thing anyone had done for her in a very long time. If it were anyone but Brian, she would have hugged him. Instead, she said, ‘Thanks’, and bit into a sugary bun.

I met Robyn and Caro for brunch one sunny August morning. We hadn’t got together for ages, but I think they were both feeling bad about how they’d been a bit useless when they found out I was pregnant. It was a bit strange, but I appreciated the fact that they were both making such an effort.

‘We got you pressies,’ said Caro, sitting down at the table and dumping an enormous bag in front of me. ‘This is going to be the best-dressed baby south of the river. Hell, it’s going to be the best-dressed baby outside of Brangelina’s nursery.’

And she wasn’t kidding. She’d obviously got some baby-fashion guru to advise her, and there were gorgeous white quilted satin sleepsuits and delicate knitted cardigans, and even a sweet little sailor suit. ‘I know you don’t know the sex so I went for gender-neutral stuff. It’s all very retro this year,’ said Caro helpfully. ‘You should get one of those old-fashioned Silver Cross perambulators with the great big wheels.’

Robyn chipped in. ‘And maybe get an Edwardian frock and a big hat for yourself, Tones. Seriously, Caro, a baby isn’t a fashion accessory.’

‘I know,’ said Caro, slightly hurt. ‘But that doesn’t mean it can’t have a signature look.’

‘Well, I haven’t met “it” yet,’ I said, ‘so I’m not too sure what its look is going to be. At the moment, I think it may be “premiership footballer” or “Riverdancer” . . . it spends enough time booting hell out of my bladder.’

‘Well, my presents are a bit more practical,’ said Robyn briskly. ‘I got you a bottle of champagne for afterwards and an ice pack for your fanny.’

‘I appreciate the thought, Rob, but I’m very much hoping my fanny will be fine.’

‘Well, if champagne is being bandied about, I suggest we get some!’ said Caro, flagging down a passing waiter. ‘Still not drinking, Toni?’

‘Sorry, no . . . not for a long while yet, especially . . .’ I stopped myself. I was going to say ‘ . . . if I breastfeed’, but that wasn’t a conversation I wanted to have with those two. I could just imagine their views on breastfeeding. The waiter brought the bubbles and poured for Rob and Caro. I sipped my fruit juice.