The Secret of Happy Ever After (49 page)

Anna couldn’t see Becca’s face, but she could picture it. Becca adored Phil and he adored her, his uncomplicated, high-achieving first-born. He didn’t hug Becca as much as the other two, limpet-like, girls, but his intense love for her radiated around them in other ways, in their private jokes, and his near-bewildered pride in everything she did.

‘You’ll always be his little girl,’ she said, stroking Becca’s hair. ‘Even now you’re grown-up and ready to make your own way in the world. He’s so proud of you.’

That provoked another flurry of hiccuppy sobbing. Anna was congratulating herself on correctly diagnosing the cause of Becca’s distress when she pulled away from her shoulder and looked her in the eye, then looked straight down at the cubicle floor.

‘Anna.’ Becca’s voice was barely a whisper and she seemed to be testing each word carefully, as if she was scared to hear them come out of her mouth. ‘Anna, I’ve got to tell you something, but you can’t tell Dad.’

Anna’s heart sank. ‘You know I can’t promise that,’ she started, but Becca was insistent.

‘You have to,’ she said wildly. ‘You have to
promise
.’

Anna held her by her arms, trying to look calmer than she felt. ‘You haven’t got engaged to Owen?’

Becca shook her head, and relief washed over Anna’s chest.

‘Thank God. I mean, he’s a nice guy, a lovely guy, but you’re very young and . . .’

Shut up, Anna.

‘So what? What’s so bad that you can’t tell your dad, eh?’

Becca lifted her wet eyes, beseeching her to understand. ‘I can’t take up my place.’

‘Why not? Is it the course? Because you can always change after a year if you really don’t enjoy it. I’m sure with the grades you’ve got they’d be fine about letting you read something else. What about English?’

Becca’s lip wobbled. ‘Dad’ll be so disappointed.’

‘No, he won’t! He only wants what you want and he thought you always wanted to do Law. Don’t tell him, but
I’d
be thrilled if you did English. I’d love it! It’d be our secret that I made you change courses by letting you work in the bookshop. Eh?’ Anna smiled encouragingly.

Becca managed a broken half-smile, then her face collapsed again. Anna put her arms round her again, feeling more confident now.

‘Things change,’ she said into her hair. ‘That’s life. We’re all allowed to change our minds, and you’re not letting anyone down by wanting something different. I mean, it’s not like there’s a ten-year-old in your old house stamping her foot because she’s not going to grow up to be Judge Judy. Hmm? But you’ve earned that place, and it’s yours to take. And you should take it.’

‘I can’t go,’ said Becca, more emphatically this time, and she pulled away, staring at the floor now as if she was dragging up all her reserves.

‘Owen will understand,’ Anna began, but Becca stopped her.

‘No,’ she said firmly. ‘Anna, I can’t go to Cambridge next week.’ She swallowed, then looked her in the eye and said, ‘I’m pregnant.’

27

Later, when Anna replayed the moment in her head, she really hoped that her first reaction hadn’t shown on her face, because she wasn’t proud of it. It was going straight into the box of terrible things that she kept locked at the back of her mind, to pick over masochistically on sleepless nights.

The bitter, white-hot thought that flashed across Anna’s brain like a streak of sheet lightning was:
How come everyone else gets to have a baby except me?

She slammed it down instantly, ashamed of herself for even thinking it, but she had the awful feeling that Becca had caught a brief glimpse of it as it crossed behind her eyes, and Anna hated herself.

But there it was. Another baby. Another unarguable reason for Phil to say no to theirs.

She started talking immediately to wash the thought away – ‘How many weeks? Are you sure? Have you done a test? Does Owen know?’ – but the questions were too much for both of them. Becca started crying again and Anna felt a dam burst in her own heart, and they cried and hugged each other until a sharp voice cut through the air behind them.

‘For heaven’s sake, what’s going on? This is a public place, anyone could walk in! Have some dignity!’

Anna spun round. Evelyn was standing by the cubicle door with an expression of curiosity mixed with disapproval, pinching her mouth into a scarlet crimp. She had to press her hands against her sides, so strong was the impulse to slap her.

‘Becca’s upset,’ she said tightly. ‘Isn’t it obvious?’

‘It’s very obvious. It’s obvious all the way down the corridor. What is it this time?’ Evelyn tipped her head like a bird. ‘Something to do with Sarah again? She always was a troublemaker, right from the time she got herself pregnant when she was barely out of school. I did tell Philip that – a mother can always see when a girl has no moral fibre, but—’

‘It’s got nothing to do with Sarah,’ snapped Anna, feeling Becca flinch under her arm.

‘Rebecca?’ Evelyn peered at her beadily. ‘Cat got your tongue? Aren’t you a bit old for this sort of carry-on? This is behaviour I’d expect from that silly little sister of yours, running out of rooms like a drama queen. Come on, what’s this about? They’re all talking, you know,’ she went on, as if it was a personal slight. ‘It’s going to be the
only
topic of conversation at dinner . . .’

‘Stop it!’ Anna was startled by her own anger. How Phil – thoughtful, easy-going, loving Phil – could possibly be related to this self-absorbed old bag was beyond her. Evelyn didn’t
deserve
family. She didn’t deserve grandchildren.

‘Evelyn,’ she said, her voice shaking, ‘I’m no relation of yours, so I have absolutely no compunction in telling you to mind your own bloody business.’

‘She’s my granddaughter, and as you say, you’re no relation,’ Evelyn retorted. ‘So in the circumstances, as her only
real
family member present, I think I’ve got every right to ask what’s going on.’

‘Becca, come on,’ said Anna, before she lost her temper properly. She put her arm around Becca and started to usher her out.

‘I really thought more of you,’ said Evelyn, as Anna passed. ‘I really did.’

Anna couldn’t work out whether she was talking to her or to Becca, but she was too furious to ask.

Anna called Phil at work and by the time she and Becca pulled up outside the house, they could see him in the kitchen, staring anxiously out of the window.

‘Oh my God,’ said Becca under her breath. She shrank back in her seat. ‘He’s going to be so disappointed with me.’ The last word vanished in a new hiccupping sob.

Anna turned round and grabbed Becca’s hand. ‘Listen, just remember that whatever he says first, he loves you,’ she said urgently. ‘He will always love you, whatever you do. He might say some things first that he’ll regret, but—’

‘Can’t you tell him? Can you go in first and tell him?’

‘No.’ Anna’s voice was firm. ‘I’ll be right behind you, but if you want him to treat you like an adult, then you’ve got to do this yourself. We’ll do it together.’

Becca nodded as if it hurt her head to move it.

‘And I’ll help you make all the calls you need to, and I promise I won’t lecture you, and . . .’ She stopped, close to tears herself. These were calls
she’d
hoped to make, with happier news than this. ‘Becca, I know it’s not the same as having your mum here, but till she gets here I’ll do everything I can. I promise that. You mean the world to me. If I could take some of the pain away for you, you know I would.’

Becca looked up at Anna. ‘I know. And I need you here
because
you’re not my mum,’ she said. ‘That sounds wrong. But I mean it in a good way.’

She gave Anna a brief, awkward hug, then got out of the car with a determined set to her jaw, before she could change her mind.

Anna watched as she marched down the path, her biker boots huge on the end of her slender legs, Owen’s leather jacket slung over her shoulders. Already she looked like a different person.

That’s the end of her childhood, thought Anna, watching the buckles on Becca’s boots flash in the cool autumn sun as she made the short journey from car to kitchen. That’s the beginning of the end of Phil’s parenthood; and I’m going to be a step-granny before I get the chance to be a mother in my own right. And there’s no way Phil will agree to us trying for a baby now.

She closed her eyes against the stab of bitterness that nearly stopped her heart beating. It was so unfair, she couldn’t see the whole unfairness at once – just the middle of it, the tiny baby in Becca and Owen’s arms part.

Then, just as quickly as Becca had left the car, Anna pushed her own door open and hurried up the path after her.

She was just in time to see Phil’s face as Becca said, ‘. . . pregnant.’

He looked confused at first, then horrified. And then, when Becca sank against his chest, sobbing and wrapping her arms around him like a child, his own eyes filled with tears and he lifted his chin as high as he could over her head so she wouldn’t hear any stray gulps.

‘Becca,’ he kept saying, ‘my little girl. My little girl.’

‘Don’t be angry,’ Becca sobbed. ‘Please don’t be angry with me.’

‘I’m not angry. How could I be angry?’

Anna hesitated at the door, unsure whether he wanted to be left on his own with her, but his eyes told her that she should come in. She found it unbearable, the sight of Phil crying. She’d never seen him cry before, not like this.

Slowly she went over to the pair of them and put her arms around Becca too, wrapping her up in what comfort she could offer. And Phil seemed as grateful for her hug as Becca did.

Michelle watched Owen shovelling back his supper at her kitchen table as if he hadn’t been fed for a week, and wondered when he’d started looking so . . . ironed.

‘Owen, have you had your hair cut?’ she asked curiously.

‘Yeah. I had a meeting with the gym about doing their website support, and Becca said I had to go to the hairdresser.’ He stopped shovelling and looked sheepish. ‘Rory said it might be a good idea too, so, you know . . .’

‘
Rory
said?’

‘Yeah. I’m going to do the new website for Flint and Cook. Had to go and meet the head honcho and Rory reckoned he’s got a thing against guys with long hair.’ Owen touched his new, somewhat shorter but still shaggy hair. ‘It’ll grow back. Becca likes it. And the suit.’

Michelle marvelled at how she’d managed to miss all this.

What suit? Since when had Rory been helping Owen find work? Since when, in fact, had Owen been motivated enough to seek out new contacts, without her nagging him from a great height?

Maybe they’d been wrong to worry about Owen being a bad influence on Becca. She seemed to be having a much more significant influence on
him
. He’d be reading books next.

‘When did Rory put that your way?’ she asked, trying not to sound nosy.

‘I saw him in the bookshop. He’s often in there, browsing. Telling Anna how to do her displays better.’ Owen looked cheeky. ‘Passing comments about what you’re feeding Tavish.’

‘What?’ Michelle started but Owen’s phone beeped by his plate and his eyes swung to it at once.

‘Sorry, can I just get this?’ he said, already reaching for it. His generous lips curved into an automatic smile, and Michelle knew the text must be from Becca as he pushed the button with a practised thumb.

‘Don’t tell me, you’re supposed to be having dinner with her tonight?’ Michelle tried not to be jealous at the way a cloud of cartoon stars practically appeared round Owen’s head whenever he texted Becca. It
was
real for some people. It seemed to be happening for Owen.

He didn’t reply, and Michelle started to clear the plates to distract herself. Much as she loved Owen, and liked Becca, this wasn’t the best time for her to watch the cutesy texting back and forth. Now she’d unleashed it, Michelle’s grief for her lost twenties had sharpened over the past few days, and only close study of her accounts could take her mind off it.

‘Owen, can you come and help me?’ she asked. When he didn’t reply she looked over to the table. He was staring at the phone. ‘What’s up?’

Owen said nothing, but pushed his phone over the table. His expression was oddly blank, and she wondered for a second if Becca had dumped him.

It’d be a bit mean to do it by text, she thought – not Becca’s style. Maybe it was some other girl, the Dublin fling coming over and wanting to hook up? Awkward.

Michelle picked up the phone. The text was from Becca, but it read, ‘I’m pregnant. Can you come round to mine tonight at 7pm?’

‘Oh my God,’ said Michelle.

It was perfectly punctuated, no txtspk for Becca. And yet the tiny message was explosive. It changed the direction of everything, in just enough characters to fill a mobile phone screen. She had to read it three times just to absorb what Becca had said.