Crystal (41 page)

Once she’d told Jez and Danni she knew that she would have to come clean with Sadie. She was dreading it, despite Jim’s reassurance that Sadie would be happy for her. After agonising about when to do it, she finally blurted out her news when she and Sadie were going through the publicity schedule in her office. Sadie’s office totally reflected her personality – it was like a cosy boudoir, red velvet curtains hung at the windows, thick purple sheepskin rugs were scattered over the floor, Jo Malone candles burned, filling the room with the fragrance of tuberose and, while Sadie had a beautiful antique desk, she conducted most of her meetings lounging on an enormous zebra-print sofa, using her laptop. She was clicking away at it now.

‘So, Crystal, once the first single is out and doing well, as it’s sure to, we’ll leave it a month and then reveal you’re Pearl. I thought maybe we should do it live on air, say on Radio 1. What do you reckon?’

‘I’m pregnant,’ Crystal replied.

‘I know,’ Sadie answered, smiling and looking up from her laptop. She didn’t seem at all surprised. ‘I wondered when you were going to tell me.’

She laughed at the look of shock on Crystal’s face and said, ‘Honey, it doesn’t take Einstein to work it out. You’re a size eight usually and you’ve blossomed quite a bit, haven’t you? And you’ve gone from wearing mini skirts all the time to tunics and leggings. And I even saw you in a poncho last week. I can’t remember the last time I saw you have a drink. You may as well have hung a sign round your neck saying
I’m pregnant
.’

‘Are you really pissed off with me?’ Crystal asked tentatively. ‘I know the timing’s bad.’

At that Sadie put down her laptop and leaned across the sofa to hug Crystal.

Then she looked at her, and Crystal was touched to see that she had tears in her eyes. ‘I’m really happy for you; a baby is a blessing and there’s never a right time. We can work round it; it just means we’ll release the single earlier. Even pop stars have babies. Jake must be so thrilled.’

At that Crystal’s own eyes filled with tears. ‘He doesn’t know, Sadie. It’s over between us. He doesn’t love me.’

‘Oh come on!’ Sadie exclaimed. ‘Sure he does. I’ve seen the two of you together, he
adores
you.’

Crystal shook her head and even though Sadie continued to protest that Jake loved her, eventually, in the face of Crystal’s resistance, she stopped.

‘Well, we’ll see, but you’ll be okay, Crystal. My husband left when our girls were three and one and at first I thought I’d never be able to cope as a single parent. But I did and so will you and you’ll be a wonderful mother.’

Sadie was true to her word and fast-tracked the release of the single. It went straight to number one. The interest had been steadily building while it was only available on MySpace and once it was released it reached fever pitch. Everyone wanted to know the identity of Pearl – the woman with the beautiful, soulful voice. While Sadie had always insisted that the song would be a hit, in her heart Crystal had never really believed her but now practically every time she switched on the radio she heard
her
song – ‘U Can’t Break Me’. She was amazed at her success but it didn’t mean what she thought it would mean. She had always imagined that if she made it as a solo artist she would feel that she had achieved all her ambitions and she would feel fulfilled, but she found it wasn’t enough. She longed for Jake with all her heart, with every part of her being. He completed her and without him she felt an emptiness inside that the success could not fill . . .

‘I feel sick,’ Crystal groaned as Danni applied the finishing touches to her make-up. She was about to go on air and reveal her true identity at last and was crippled with nerves. ‘And I look terrible! Nothing to do with your make-up, Danni,’ she quickly added. She hadn’t even wanted to be made up for the interview but Sadie had pointed out that there was bound to be press waiting outside the Radio 1 building once the world found out that Crystal was Pearl. So Crystal had dutifully made an effort, putting on a black and silver wrap dress, black leggings and silver pumps. She thought she looked like the most enormous pregnant woman ever.

‘You look blooming,’ Danni told her.

‘I need to look sexy and sharp,’ Crystal groaned. ‘Who is going to want to buy a record by a great fat porker like me?’

‘You’re not fat, you’re pregnant!’ Danni and Jez chorused back – they had to say it to Crystal at least five times a day. ‘And,’ Jez added, ‘your video is seriously steamy. People are going to be too busy lusting after you in that to think about you being pregnant.’

Crystal gave a small smile, but it hurt to think of the video, to think about Jake directing her, to remember how happy she’d been back then . . .

‘How’s my girl?’ Sadie asked, breezing into the room. In honour of Crystal’s big day, she’d swapped her usual skintight jeans and T-shirt combo for an Yves Saint Laurent black trouser suit and put on some of her bling – a dazzling diamond cross pendant, and a seriously huge sapphire ring.

‘God, Sadie, I hope we don’t get car-jacked because of you!’ Crystal joked.

Sadie shrugged. ‘Well, I thought it was a day for flaunting it, and I’ve a little present for you.’ She handed Crystal a velvet pouch in the distinctive Tiffany pale blue, which she opened to reveal a stunning platinum and diamond Tiffany heart necklace.

‘Wow,’ Crystal exclaimed. ‘Thank you so much, it’s beautiful.’

‘I thought you deserved to wear something special today – jewels for Pearl,’ Sadie replied, fastening the necklace round Crystal’s neck.

Sadie had booked extra bodyguards who were all built like tanks to help smuggle Crystal into the building unobserved. Crystal also had to put on dark glasses, a floor-length coat and, to Jez’s horror, a long blonde wig.

‘Do you know how long I spent blow drying her hair this morning?’ he said huffily.

‘Relax, Jez, she’s only wearing the wig for a few minutes. I’m sure her hair will look perfect,’ Sadie assured him.

Sadie’s plan worked perfectly and Crystal got into the building and into the studio without anyone recognising her. Now there was just the interview to get through . . .

Damon Williams, the DJ, had no idea that Pearl was Crystal either. When Sadie had set up the interview, she hadn’t told anyone. His surprise made for great radio. Once they started chatting, Crystal’s nerves left her. She was here because she wanted to make a success of her music and it wasn’t just for her, it was for her baby, a fact that Damon was quick to pick up on.

‘So it’s going to be Crystal plus one soon?’ he asked halfway through the interview, having already played several tracks from the album and raved about them.

‘It is,’ Crystal answered, her heart sinking because she really didn’t want to give anything away. Damon wanted a lot more detail than that and asked about the father, mentioning Jake’s name, but Crystal firmly but politely declined to reveal the father’s identity or even when the baby was due, and he was forced to change the subject. The minute she left the building the cameras went off all around her and the press were everywhere, calling out her name, demanding a comment. But for the first time in what seemed like ages the questions didn’t seem hostile and Crystal held her head high and posed away for the cameras.

The next few weeks were a whirlwind of interviews and photo shoots. The media couldn’t get enough of Crystal; she
was on the cover of every magazine, she appeared on chat shows, music shows, kids’ TV shows. Sadie kept checking that the schedule wasn’t too much for her, but the truth was, she wanted to be busy. She didn’t want to have time to think, because when she was alone that’s when the sadness caught up with her, that’s when the thought of being a single mother, of a future without Jake, almost seemed too much. She knew that Tahlia and Sadie had coped, but it wasn’t what she would have chosen. She wanted her baby to have a dad. She kept remembering her own childhood – of how much she had missed her father when he left. Was that how her child would feel? Would he have the same sense of loss that Crystal had had or would he feel even worse because he didn’t even know his dad? And what would she tell him about Jake? Maybe, in spite of everything she had thought, in spite of her fears that he might end up staying with her because he felt he had to, she had a duty to tell Jake – not for her and not for him, but for the baby. She spent a week agonising about what to do. Every night when she lay in bed, she would pick up her mobile, select Jake’s number and be on the verge of calling him, and every night she would come up with a reason not to. But by Friday she decided that, whatever her reservations, she would make the call.

Tahlia and Jez were both round her flat that evening. Jez had taken to coming over at least once a week to cook supper for her. At first Crystal had told him that she was perfectly capable of doing it herself, but Jez wouldn’t take no for an answer. ‘This baby cannot flourish on a diet of baked potatoes. You need more protein; I’ve been checking the baby book,’ he declared. So Crystal gave in. It was lovely having home-cooked food – she was tired of eating out, bored of ready meals, which were all she could manage to shove in the microwave in the evening when she returned home. And it felt good being looked after.

The three of them were chilling in the lounge while Jez’s fish pie – his finest yet, he boasted – was cooking. Tahlia and Crystal were chatting while Jez flipped through a copy of
Grazia
magazine and commented on the different styles and fashions he came across, delivering damning verdicts on many of the celebs he saw – ‘Frocky horror show!’ and ‘I wouldn’t go to the corner shop to buy a pint of milk looking like
that
’ were just two of his favourite put-downs.

‘God, I hope we’ll always be friends,’ Crystal joked. ‘Because there is nothing crueller than a gay fashionista passing judgement.’

But Jez didn’t appear to have heard her; he looked shocked, muttered ‘shit’ and then shut the magazine.

‘What’s the matter Jez?’ Tahlia asked. ‘Did you see someone wearing last season’s colours?’

‘No, no, it was nothing,’ Jez replied, but he looked uncomfortable.

‘Jez, you are the worst liar,’ Crystal said, grabbing the magazine from him.

‘It was nothing,’ Jez insisted, trying to wrestle it back from her. ‘Come on, I think dinner’s nearly ready.’ But by now Crystal’s curiosity was aroused and, ignoring Jez, she began flipping through the pages.

‘Please don’t,’ Jez said quietly. But it was too late. Crystal had found the page. It was coverage of an exclusive masked ball in New York for a leading designer. There were photos of various A list actors and supermodels. But it was one supermodel in particular who held her gaze, or rather the person she was with, because on the arm of Phoebe, the stunning Australian model, was Jake. Feeling as if she’d been punched, she read the captain underneath – ‘
Has Phoebe got a new man? The gorgeous and talented Jake Fox? The two were inseparable at the ball.
’

‘It doesn’t mean anything,’ Jez said quickly. ‘They’re just friends.’

‘They don’t look like friends,’ Crystal said numbly. ‘Look at him smiling and the way they’re standing so close.’

‘Pictures can be misleading,’ Tahlia told her gently. ‘You know that – look at how Jake got the wrong idea about you and Jim.’

Crystal shook her head and said miserably, ‘Thanks for trying, but I think they’re probably together.’

Tahlia and Jez carried on trying to reassure her, but all Crystal could think was that Jake was lost to her forever. He had obviously moved on.
How stupid to think I could tell him about the baby and that we might be together again.
It had been a fantasy, nothing more
.

‘The first stage of labour is when the cervix opens out fully or dilates to let the baby’s head pass through,’ the midwife explained, holding up a rather battered looking toy baby and what Crystal had initially taken to be a scarf, but now seemed to be a uterus and birth canal, made out of knitted pink wool,
Were NHS cuts that bad that they couldn’t afford a model?
‘The cervix is fully dilated when it’s approximately ten centimetres in diameter,’ the midwife continued, holding up the pink woolly uterus to demonstrate what ten centimetres looked like.
And this was just the first stage?
Crystal looked at Tahlia, and whispered, ‘Bloody hell, I don’t like the sound of that!’ It was her first antenatal class and she’d been dreading it, thinking that she’d be the only one without a partner, but there were two other women in the same position – one of whom was there all by herself – so Crystal counted herself lucky to have Tahlia.

‘That’s nothing,’ a woman sitting next to her said grimly. ‘You wait till she starts talking about the second stage when you have to push that baby out. And you don’t even want to know about episiotomies.’

‘What’s that?’ Crystal asked nervously.

‘That’s when they cut you down below to deliver the baby,’ the woman replied. ‘A friend of mine had to have one, never the same again.’

Oh God.
Crystal had been so preoccupied with Jake that she hadn’t given the birth much thought, but now she was feeling very apprehensive.

The midwife caught the mood and said, ‘I know it seems scary but the thing to remember is this is just a day in your
life, hopefully less than a day, and at the end of it you’ll have your baby.’

She beamed at the group, still holding up the knitted uterus, with the baby bulging inside it. Crystal made a mental note to get rid of the pink scarf she had at home; she didn’t think she’d ever be able to wear it again.

‘Don’t you think it might be better to have a Caesarean?’ Crystal whispered to Tahlia.

‘No, I do not!’ Tahlia said sternly. ‘You should only have one if there is a good medical reason. It takes longer to recover from a C-section.’ Tahlia’s aunt was a midwife and Tahlia had a very firm grasp of the subject. In fact, she was a bit of a hardliner when it came to natural versus Caesarean births.

‘Anyway, you’re not too posh to push. If I can do it, so can you.’

‘Yeah, but what about my pelvic floor,’ Crystal groaned. ‘What kind of state is it going to be in after I’ve pushed an eight-pound baby out? Wouldn’t a Caesarean keep it – what’s that expression – honeymoon fresh?’