Bella Summer Takes a Chance (23 page)

‘Thank you,
Suesse
,’ she said quietly. ‘Now I see why you left Mattias. I understand what you were saying. You wanted a different life. It wasn’t enough. I’m so sorry I judged you.’

I welled up at her apology. I guess I
had
resented her, especially after she waxed lyrical over The Hairy Biker and the miracle of love. As if I hadn’t told her the very same thing. As if she hadn’t judged me harshly for daring to want to be in love. I didn’t realise I’d been waiting for her approval until I got it. I was vindicated. ‘Thank you, Kat.’

‘Don’t thank me. You were right. I was wrong. I didn’t understand. Now I do. Once you know what you could have, you can’t go back. You can’t pretend that what you have is enough.’

But that was exactly my problem, wasn’t it? I didn’t know what I could have. I didn’t really know what was out there, or whether it was better than what I had. I only knew what was at home, in the flat we shared. He was out with James tonight, as he had been most nights lately. And I looked forward to hearing his key in the door, knowing he’d throw himself on the sofa and ask all about the minutiae of my night. We were as comfortable as we’d always been, so in some ways, nothing had changed. In other important ways, though, much had changed. Mattias was in my mind now, in a way he hadn’t been for a long time. I was forgetting why it was so important to leave him. The certainty in my decision was slipping away.

I shoved these thoughts from my mind. It wasn’t fair to be so self-absorbed, not on Clare’s birthday. ‘Many happy returns,’ I said, raising my glass. ‘To Clare,’ we chorused.

‘Thanks, my little petunias, I do appreciate the effort,’ she said, eying the oil stains on the concrete floor. ‘I’m just not feeling very jolly these days. Besides, it’s a nothing birthday. Yours will be more fun, B. Your penultimate birthday. It’s coming up fast!’

‘Don’t remind me. Thirty-nine, sheesh. I may celebrate the anniversaries of my thirtieth instead. Let’s call it the ninth anniversary, shall we?’

‘Fine. What do you want to do for your thirtieth birthday’s ninth anniversary?’ Kat asked.

‘Something low-key I think. I’ll just get everyone together, maybe at Fred’s. It’s not really that big a deal.’

‘Oh, but it is, B.,’ she objected. ‘I know you won’t let us celebrate your fortieth, so this is a milestone. Besides, technically you will be in your fortieth year. You’ll be in the middle ages.’

‘Kat, how dare you, I will not be middle aged! Middle age is your fifties. Late fifties.’

‘Really.’ Faith arched her eyebrow. ‘How many hundred-and-ten-year-olds do you know?’

‘You know what I mean. It’s not the same now as it was in our parents’ generation. Thirty-nine is the new twenty-nine. Or do only thirty-nine-year-olds say that?’ My question was answered by pitying looks. ‘All right, whatever. You’ll be the first to know when I decide. Clare, honey, you’ve hardly eaten anything. Do you want to try the pudding?’ She agreed to acknowledge her birthday on the condition that there was neither cake nor candle. We’d ordered the entire pudding menu instead.

‘Ugh, I can’t, B., I’ll vomit.’

‘I thought morning sickness happened in the morning,’ Faith said.

‘That’s a myth. Everything makes me vomity, no matter what time of day. Will you promise me something? If I ever volunteer to do this again, e-ver, don’t let me do it. It’s a miserable existence.’ She rounded on Kat. ‘Why didn’t you warn me!’

‘What good would that have done? The horse was out of the door already. It wouldn’t have made you feel better to know what you were in for.’

‘You see? This whole pregnancy thing is one giant conspiracy, and it’s perpetuated by women. For shame!’ She glared at Kat, who remained unapologetic. ‘If we knew what it was really like before we did it, we’d die out as a species.’

‘That’s why nobody tells you,
Liebchen
.’

‘Well, I’m not continuing this cruelty to women. Girls, there are things you need to know.’ Faith and I leaned forward in anticipation, even though Clare hadn’t exactly suffered in silence lately. ‘You know I’m sick all the time, right? Well, imagine suddenly having a superpower sense of smell too. I actually know when someone has just used a tampon.’

I blushed when she looked at me.

‘Yes, I know, it’s disgusting but it’s true. Don’t get me started on body odour. Everything smells about a thousand times stronger than normal. Imagine. Garlic, fish, yeasty bread, your rubbish. I projectile vomited over Marmite the other day, and you know I love my Marmite. They also don’t tell you about the piles. I haven’t had a painless poo in months. I’m afraid I’ll crap out an intestine when I go into labour. See this?’ She pointed to a dark patch on her face. ‘They call it a pregnancy mask. Bollocks. You can take off a mask. This may not go away afterwards. My body is deformed.’ She waved away our protests. ‘It is. My tits are obscene.’

Poor Hairy Biker tried not to stare at what had become Clare’s dominant feature of late.

‘They hurt. I swear I’d punch anyone who tried to touch them. I’ve had to buy bras that make foot-binding look like a bit of discomfort, just to keep control of them. And I can’t even wear my shoes. My feet have grown. I’m a constipated blotchy-faced mutant Sasquatch.’

‘Just wait till you have the baby.’ Kat smirked cruelly.

‘Thanks. Thanks for that, Kat. I farted the other day in the interview,’ she confessed.

‘Maybe nobody noticed.’

‘Oh, she noticed. She opened a window.’

‘She must have really liked you, then. You got the job.’

‘I guess so. That’s a relief anyway, though I can’t keep the pregnancy a secret for long. Right now they just think I’m fat and flatulent.’

‘When do you have to tell them?’ I asked her, catching Kat’s eye. She was thinking the same thing. If she wasn’t keeping the baby, then it wasn’t a big deal, she’d be back to work in a few weeks. Was she keeping the baby?

‘In three weeks. That’ll go down well, won’t it, at the end of my first week of work? I’m sure to win Employee of the Year for that.’

‘Wouldn’t it have been easier to wait till after the baby’s a bit older to find work?’ The Hairy Biker asked. I tensed. Hadn’t Kat briefed him about
the decision that shall not be mentioned
? We didn’t know that Clare’s life would include an ‘after the baby’s a bit older’. Besides,
we
may have the right to question her integrity in the workplace. The interloper did not. He’d known us for five minutes. To ask anything beyond ‘How are you?’, ‘More wine?’ or ‘Have you lost weight?’ was going too far.

‘It might have been easier, but you never know,’ Clare said with no trace of rancour. ‘My CV was in with the headhunter from before I was pregnant. I’ve always kept some lines in the water. This job came up and it’s perfect, no travel and normal hours. It was too good to pass up the chance. Besides, I’m only taking off a few months after the baby.’ She searched our faces for a reaction.

‘Clare,’ I whispered. ‘Do you mean you’re keeping the baby?’ She nodded, looking like she couldn’t quite believe it herself. ‘Aghhhh!’ I launched myself on her while Kat and Faith lunged to join us. ‘You’re going to be such a great mum, and we’ll help you, won’t we? Oh, Clare, I’m so happy for you!’ The four of us bounced, arms around each other, in a squealing circle.

‘All right,’ Clare said. ‘Please sit down. You’re making a spectacle. The last thing I need is to call more attention to myself.’ Chastened but grinning, we retook our seats. Hairy Biker squeezed Kat as soon as she rejoined him, and kissed her forehead. ‘Lord knows it’s not going to be easy. I will take you up on your offers to help, so they’d better not be empty promises.’

‘What about The Shag?’ Kat enquired, emboldened by the recent disclosure.

‘I haven’t made any decisions about that, Kat. So please don’t push me. He’s still insisting that we’ll make the perfect couple but honestly, I’m not interested in a relationship. Let alone sex. God, I can’t imagine ever doing it again.’

‘You’ll change your mind. About the sex, I mean,’ Kat clarified, seeing Clare’s warning look. ‘Once your hormones calm down again and your body goes back to normal. Are you sure you only want to take a few months off, though?’

‘I’m sure. Even if it weren’t a new job, I wouldn’t want to stay at home. Kat, I don’t know how you managed with the boys. It takes the kind of selflessness that I just don’t have. You know me. If I gave up work, I’d be miserable. Besides, the new hours are very reasonable, and I’m going to have someone to watch him, her, it. It’s better this way. If I stayed at home, I’d be unhappy and that wouldn’t be good for the baby. I’ve thought a lot about this, and I’ve worked it out. I can do it all. You know how some people get night nurses, right? They stay with the baby at night and do the feedings. You remember, B., Fiona had one when she had the twins. She raved about what a lifesaver she was. Well, they do that overnight. I’ll just be doing the opposite. I’m at work while the baby eats and sleeps on the nanny’s watch, then I’m with the baby the other two thirds of the time. So it’s exactly what a night nurse would do, except I’ll be shattered from getting up every two hours during the night. Yay, lucky me. Exhausted and probably judged a bad mother for going back to work.’

‘Clare, nobody’s going to judge your decisions,’ Faith said.

‘Oh, but you’re wrong, Faith. Everybody judges your decisions when they see the bump. It’s as if the pregnancy, the birth, the child all become communal property. People feel they’ve got the right to tell you what you should be doing. Trust me, they judge. I’m happy with my decisions. I’ve weighed up all the alternatives and I’m satisfied. My new employer may not be, but they’ll get their pound of flesh.’

‘Clare, I’m so happy for you,’ said Faith. ‘You’re going to be such a cool, level-headed mother. He, she, it… will be so lucky to have you… but can we please stop calling it “It”?’

‘I’m afraid not, sorry. I didn’t want to know the sex before when they did the scans, in case I decided to give
It
up for adoption. Now I want the surprise.’ She smiled.

‘Fair enough,’ Faith said. ‘I’d want it to be a surprise too. And Clare? We’ll never judge you, you know. We love you and completely support you. Even if you decide, wrongly, not to get together with The Shag.’ She smirked. They both knew that Faith may not judge, but she also wouldn’t stop fighting The Shag’s corner.

‘Faith, you wouldn’t be you if you let things drop. I love you anyway. That’s why you make such a good reporter.’

‘Tell that to my bosses. Really, please tell them. At the rate I’m going I may have to sleep my way to the middle. Though I did finally get an invitation to one of my boss’s famous dinners. Careers are made and broken at these things. B., you can still come with me, right?’

‘Absolutely. Shame Frederick’s out of town.’ He couldn’t miss his mother’s seventieth birthday, inconveniently located in the village where he grew up. I was surprised to learn that despite his urbane manner he was a country bumpkin at heart. It probably accounted for his penchant for flat caps.

‘It’s okay,’ she said. ‘You’re an acceptable substitute. They know you’re coming. And I might have talked up your singing a bit, so be warned.’

‘Oh no, why’d you do that?’ I had visions of being the impromptu after-dinner entertainment.

‘Because I’m proud of you, sweetheart. You’re a true talent, and great things lie in store. So shoot us for bragging about you.’

Clare and Kat nodded vigorously. Their belief in me was absolute. I didn’t have the heart to tell them about my conversation with People. I had called her when I got home from the hospital, just like I’d planned. When she said she remembered me, sycophantic drivel spilled from my mouth. She let me carry on before neatly cutting me off at the knees. She was taking on very few clients, she explained, but she wished me all the luck in finding the right manager. It didn’t so much prick my balloon as blow a howitzer-sized hole through it. Bits of dream floated down around me.

Chapter 20

Faith was uncharacteristically nervous when we met at the Tube near her boss’s house. ‘Okay, there are just a couple of things to keep in mind,’ she said as we made our way to his address. ‘You know Ken. You met him at my birthday drinks, so you know he’s an arsehole. But please try to be nice to him. And if he makes a joke, just laugh this time. He’s used to sycophants. His wife’ll be there too. Wait till you see her. I don’t know most of their friends but I’m sure they’re called things like Felicity or Araminta, so you know the type. Do I look okay?’

‘You’re beautiful.’ She hardly ever had crises of confidence when it came to her appearance. While the rest of us fretted over too-blue eyeliner, flyaway hair, the wrong bra and pinchy waistbands, she never fidgeted, instead swiping on a bit of lip gloss and smiling through her perfection. I’d have hated her if I didn’t know her. ‘You don’t need to be nervous, it’ll go well. Do I look all right?’

‘Gorgeous. It’s just that it’s taken me over two years to get one of these invitations. Ken’s parties are legendary for making careers. If you’re invited, you could be on the way to great things. Unless you fuck up. I know of two who did. They’re no longer with us.’

‘Were they murdered?’

‘Don’t joke. They were…’ She made ditto marks with her fingers. ‘… managed out.’

‘Wow, and you’re trusting me not to fuck it up for you? Brave.’

‘Desperate. The invitation was plus one. I told Ken I’d come on my own and he told me to find someone to bring along. Maybe they don’t want to mess up the seating arrangements.’

‘Maybe he wants to judge you by the company you keep.’

It wasn’t exactly my cultural milieu. My flat with Mattias was surrounded by kebab shops and bars, not Kenzo and Balenciaga. Faith’s boss lived in a townhouse. As did we, except ours had three buzzers at the front door instead of just the one. ‘I didn’t realise being a newspaper editor paid so well.’

‘It doesn’t. It’s his wife’s money. They bought this a few years ago and had it completely renovated. There’s a lift in the drive. Like the bat cave. He drives over it and lowers the car into the underground garage.’