Positively Yours (31 page)

The meal had been lovely, and unlike all the rest of the women at the table, Beth had asked for seconds. Her appetite was increasing, and she couldn't seem to resist potatoes. That was one great benefit to being pregnant, you could eat as much as you liked, and no one thought badly of you. And even though her doctor had reminded her that she was not in fact ‘eating for two' during her pregnancy, Beth liked to imagine she was. She hadn't put on a lot of weight; she was just enjoying good food more than ever.

‘You can have one glass of wine, you know. All my sisters did,' said Simon, as he poured Beth out a small amount of white wine. She was tempted, but resisted.

‘No, I won't, thanks. It's not good for the baby. And anyway, the last thing I need is people in work thinking I get drunk while pregnant! No I'll get myself another 7 Up when the waiter comes back.'

Simon shrugged, and Beth did feel a bit like a wet fish, but she only had two months to go, and then she would be able to drink any time she wanted. And even though she was tempted to have the odd glass of wine now and then, on the whole she didn't miss alcohol.

Simon was just filling Beth in on his new job as a website designer when suddenly Matt, one of the guys in Beth's work pod, shouted over.

‘OK, so what names have you got for us this week?'

Beth laughed. Every day she changed her mind about the best names for her unborn child. The guys on her team had some kind of internal bet going on about it.

‘I still think it will be Jones, after the Dow Jones. One
of Beth's favourite things!' Graham O'Reilly called out. ‘Or maybe even Nikkei?' The whole table laughed.

‘No, it's got to be Peter, after Peter Pan. You know because of all those
pains au chocolat
!' said Matt, cheekily. Beth pretended to be annoyed, and playfully hit him, but knew he was only messing. His wife had been obsessed by the smell of coal all through her last pregnancy, so he knew about funny cravings.

‘Well,' said Beth. ‘For a boy I still like Christopher or Robin, after my favourite book,
Winnie The Pooh
.'

Matt groaned and tried to tell Beth both were gay names. Beth ignored him.

‘And for a girl I like Amy, Katie, Ellie and Kelly.'

‘So, all names ending in y,' said Simon.

Beth was stunned, she had never thought of it like that. She would need to rethink her method of choosing names.

‘I also like the name Harry for a boy.'

‘Harry?' asked a snotty woman near her. ‘God, that's so English. And old-fashioned. No, you can't call a baby that. And as for Robin, well, as your friend said, it's pretty dire.'

Beth stared at the woman in surprise. This complete stranger was criticizing her name choices in front of a large table of people. It was OK for the guys from work to playfully tease her, but not some stranger.

‘And what are your children called?' Beth asked her.

‘Oh, well, I don't have any,' the woman replied. ‘I'm not with anyone at the moment.'

‘Hmm,' said Beth. ‘I thought as much.' It was always the people furthest from something that liked to knock it as much as they could. This was obviously some single, jealous cow. Well, she might be envious of the baby, but that didn't allow her to take it out on Beth's choice of name.

‘If you finally meet someone, and after a few years get engaged, and then married, and then years later have a baby,
you can call it whatever you like. But, in the meantime, if I want to name my baby Harry, I will.' The lady looked embarrassed and dismayed. Beth had put her in her place.

‘Well done,' said Simon to Beth. ‘I once made the mistake of questioning my sister Jill's choice in calling her new son Elliot. I thought it was a bit too E.T. But trust me, after getting attacked by an over-protective first-time mum, I would never question a woman's baby-name decision again!'

‘It's just so hard to pick a nice one. It's a lot of power to have. I mean, what you decide affects your child for ever. They'll be stuck with that name their whole life.'

‘Well, what does your husband like?' asked Simon.

‘I'm not married,' she replied. ‘It's just me picking the names.'

‘Oh,' he said. Beth thought she saw a little smile creep on to his face.

The rest of the meal went very well – that is, until the music started. The newlyweds were up swinging each other around to ABBA's ‘Dancing Queen'.

‘You have to dance,' said Simon, as he tried to usher Beth on to the packed dance floor.

‘No way,' said Beth strongly. ‘I think seeing a heavily pregnant woman try to swing her bump to the sound of ABBA, or any band, is disturbing. Like the unwritten rule of no white after Labour Day, pregnant women should not attempt to boogie. It's just wrong.'

Simon started laughing.

‘I'm serious. Pregnancy takes away your balance, grace and mobility. Add all of that to a packed dance floor and some corny music and you have a recipe for disaster! Trust me, nobody wants to see me dance.'

‘I do,' replied Simon.

After that Beth might have been able to resist ‘Rock the
Boat', but she had to have at least one small dance with Simon, especially once the DJ started playing Beyoncé. Beth ignored the stares from her colleagues, as they all tried to work out if Simon could be her baby's father. If only they knew the truth, she thought.

Once it hit midnight Beth decided that was an acceptable hour for a pregnant woman to leave a very drunken wedding. She said goodbye to Susan, who still looked beautiful, even if her dress was soaking up all the spilt beer. The minute Beth walked into the hotel corridor she bent down and took off her stilettos. Her legs and back were so sore. Pregnancy and high heels did not go well together. She had been tempted to wear her very comfortable flat shoes, but knew that was only one step away from being a complete granny.

‘Were you not going to say goodbye?'

Beth looked up to see Simon walking towards her.

‘God, if I hadn't needed to go outside for a smoke I wouldn't have seen you trying to sneak out of the wedding!'

Beth blushed. She knew she should have said goodbye to him, he'd been such good company all day, but she'd felt a little awkward. What was there to say? They wouldn't see each other again, and he was hardly going to ask her out when she was carrying another man's baby.

‘Let me at least walk you to your room?' Simon asked, as he picked up Beth's shoes.

They were at her door in no time.

‘Well, it was lovely to meet you. Susan has some gorgeous friends that she's been hiding away in Dublin!'

Beth smiled.

‘Best of luck with your new job,' she said, as she searched her handbag for her room key.

‘Thanks, and best of luck with the baby. Your whole life will change!'

Beth shrugged. She was sick of people telling her that. Her life had already changed quite enough in the last few months.

‘But don't worry, I know you'll be able to handle it,' said Simon, sensing her mood. ‘Christopher Robin or Amy will be a very lucky child.'

Beth was secretly chuffed that he had remembered her baby names.

‘Anyway, I had better get back to the dance floor, there is a rumour that there's a Michael Jackson medley coming up, and I do a mean moonwalk!' said Simon, handing Beth back her silver shoes.

Just as Beth went to shake his hand, he leant in and gave her a kiss on the cheek, and then another brief one on her lips.

‘Take care. And I pity the guy who's left you coming to weddings alone, and picking baby names all by yourself. He doesn't know what he's missing, the fool.'

And with that Simon turned around and headed back to the function room.

Stunned, Beth walked into her hotel room, and sat down on the plush bed. For the first time in months she felt attractive and wanted. Some guy she barely knew had liked her. It meant nothing, and wouldn't be going anywhere, but it felt so nice to know that even if Tom didn't want her, other guys did.

Beth's feet might be killing her, she was wrecked from all the dancing and tired from the long day, but it had all been worth it. Because today her confidence in herself was the highest it had been in a long time.

BETH WATCHED THE
couple across from her. The woman, whose hair was in dreadlocks, was engrossed in a leaflet on breastfeeding, while the man – who had long dark hair tied in a ponytail – was actually on one knee, speaking to her swollen belly. Beth felt her mouth drop open. Is this guy for real? she thought. Suddenly he caught her eye.

‘Speaking to the foetus is very important at this stage, so that they will recognize their parents' voices. I also play him classical music, it's supposed to increase his I.Q.,' he informed Beth in an American accent.

She looked at him in disbelief. What a nut! she thought. She turned away from him, and studied a leaflet on Vitamin K injections for newborns. As she pretended to read, Beth cast glances round the room. She couldn't believe the class she had got stuck with. Today was her first day of the ante-natal classes that took place in Holles Street. She hadn't realized you had to book them early to get the time, day and class you wanted, and so she'd been left with no choice: just the Friday afternoon Couples Class. What a nightmare! Beth had been dreading it – yes, she was dying to learn about the birth, labour pains and pain relief, but she didn't want to have to sit beside twenty happy couples each week and be reminded of her single status.

As people took their seats Beth was amazed by how old some of them were. She knew the average age of a woman's first baby had risen to thirty-one, but it was still funny to think that years ago women had finished having kids in their mid-thirties, and now it was when they started. Some women looked old enough to be grannies, not first-time mums. But regardless of their ages, at least they had partners, she thought, once again cursing Tom – which she did about twenty times a day!

She looked at all the bumps next. It amazed her how different everyone's were: some round, flat, huge, or very wide. Such different children lay inside them all. The mothers all looked so different, too. A few, like Beth, had obviously come straight from work, and were dressed very smartly, while others seemed to be wrecked from the pregnancy, and looked as if they had just rolled out of bed, flung on a tracksuit and forced themselves to come into the hospital for today's class. They all might be different but Beth did feel a slight connection with them: the whole class were going through exactly the same thing at exactly the same time, and would all have kids of the same age. It was amazing, really.

Suddenly a girl with bright red hair and a neat bump stood in front of her. She seemed nervous.

‘Is this seat taken?' she asked. Beth smiled, the girl was alone. Finally someone who is in my boat, she thought, as she cleared her bag off the seat next to her so the girl could use it.

‘I'm Grace, by the way,' said the girl, who had a slight American accent.

‘Are you American?' asked Beth.

‘No, but I lived there for years. I've just moved home from California. I didn't know this class would be so packed,' Grace said, taking out a notepad and pen. Beth suddenly noticed that almost all the women had notepads. God, she thought, I never know the right thing to do with this baby. She grabbed
her handbag, and – amidst
pain au chocolat
wrappers, an empty bottle of Lucozade, her work Blackberry, and some Rennies for the odd bit of heartburn she seemed to have developed – she found a blank piece of paper and a pencil.

‘So, when are you due?' asked Beth.

‘The twenty-fifth of July,' said Grace, placing her hand protectively on her small bump. Beth smiled, she always did the same these days, when talking about her future bambino.

‘And you?' asked the girl.

‘The twenty-ninth of July. It seems so far away in one way,' said Beth. ‘But then, at other times I think it's coming too soon, and I won't have everything organized!'

The girl laughed. ‘My husband feels the same way. He keeps worrying because we haven't got the cot or car seat yet, but when I suggest we spend a day baby shopping he says we have all the time in the world, and puts it off for another weekend! He can't be here today, but he'll come next week. You can meet him then.'

Beth smiled, but felt a little dismayed that the girl had a partner, too. Beth was definitely the only single lady in the group. Suddenly a nurse came in, shut the door and walked into the middle of the room. Everyone went silent. Here was the woman who knew the answers to all their questions, all their worries. They didn't want to miss a word she said.

‘Hello, everyone! My name is Nurse Mary Egan, and I'll be taking you every Friday for the next eight weeks, to prepare you for the birth of your children. Now, before we begin I'd like everyone to introduce themselves and their partners, and tell us when you are due. You should try to remember the names because the woman sitting next to you could be sharing a hospital room with you in two months' time! And, guys, these men could be pacing the corridors with you, and when you feel like a hard-earned smoke or moan these will be your comrades!'

Everyone laughed. The couple at the far end of the room stood up and began introducing themselves. Beth listened to couple after couple reel off their due dates and names. She was dreading having to stand up on her own and say she was unmarried and single. It had been hard enough admitting it to friends and family, let alone complete strangers. Beth was just listening to the annoying hippy couple, who were telling everyone about their plan for a natural birth. ‘No pain, no gain,' they were saying in chorus, when suddenly she heard the door open. Everyone stared. Beth almost collapsed: her father was there. William spotted his daughter, and as quickly as he could made a beeline for her. The young girl beside her moved up.