From Mum With Love
Page 25
But the night of the awards ceremony didn’t end there. Not long after heading back to the table, I climbed into a cab with Daddy and asked the driver to drop me at Mel’s house so I could spend time with my friends. He’d drunk far too much champagne by this point and was more than happy to head home and collapse in bed, reassured by the fact Granny and Grandad were around if you decided to wake in the night. So I made him promise to sneak in and give you a kiss from me and then I jumped out of the cab and knocked on the door of one of the places I have felt happiest since I became a mother.
After Mel opened the door, I followed her through to the kitchen – and there was Henny with a bottle of champagne in her hands, standing alongside Deena, smiling from ear to ear. And as I smiled back at them, the champagne cork suddenly popped and hit the ceiling above us and all three of them cheered, clapped, and ran over to hug me.
We spent the rest of that evening laughing, chatting, passing around the award to pose for silly pictures, and swigging champagne (or sparkling grape juice in Mel’s case, which she told us was torture). And just as I was starting to think about calling it a night and phoning for a cab to bring me home to you, I felt another wave of nausea rise from my tummy right up to my throat.
‘Oh Jesus,’ I said. ‘Not again’. And when I told the girls I had thrown up earlier in the evening, they all frowned and asked what I’d eaten at dinner. But the truth is that I had barely eaten anything at all.
I’d felt sick a few too many times recently for it to be nerves, or food poisoning, or drinking on an empty stomach. I was starting to wake up from the fog and stress and excitement of the previous few weeks to realise that these constant waves of sickness might be something else entirely.
Within a few minutes of airing my concerns to the girls, Mel had dragged us all upstairs to the bathroom and started rummaging in the cabinet. And she was suddenly holding out a box, containing a plastic stick that had the potential to change my life – and your life – forever.
Just three minutes later, I would know for sure.
So, I did a wee on that pregnancy test, Bella, with three friends waiting the other side of the bathroom door, yelling to ask if I’d done it yet. And when I stood up and replaced the cap, we all stood over that piece of plastic, four faces craning to see one line appear straight away, then squinting our eyes to see if another was joining it to make a cross. My heart was beating so hard and so fast that I could barely focus. But I kept watching, Bella. I couldn’t drag my eyes away.
And do you want to know how it turned out? How this part of our story is going to end? Well, winning that the award was never meant to be the biggest shock of the night – because as another line appeared and shrieks rang out all around me, I flopped down onto the bathroom floor to stare at that test. I clasped it tightly in my hand, and I realised that everything was going to change. Everything was going to start again – right from the swollen bump, to the contractions, to the pushing, to the moment I would stare down into two eyes for the very first time.
This is the start of a new story, Bella.
Not just for your little brother or sister – but for us, too.
And we started writing it that night.
Not in a glitzy ballroom.
Not on a stage, with my eyes blinded from camera flashes.
Not clutching an award in my hand, as every head in a ballroom turned to me.
Not arguing in the toilet with another blogger, who didn’t think I deserved to win.
But right there on the bathroom floor.
Clutching that piece of plastic with two bright blue lines, surrounded by my four best friends.
Love from Mummy x
We hope you enjoyed this book.
Louise Emma Clarke’s next book is coming in 2019
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A note from the author
Acknowledgements
About Louise Emma Clarke
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Note from the author
This novel is inspired by my own experiences as a blogger, but the characters are constructed entirely in my head. Tiggy does not exist as a single person, but is created from snippets of people I have met along the way that, let’s say, made my path a little more difficult to navigate – as is Wendy, who represents the many friends I have made in the industry since I started blogging. It’s not such a bad place to be, after all.
Acknowledgements
I would like to thank the following people:
My husband Charlie, who has only ever encouraged and supported me on both my blogging and writing journey.
Our children Stanley, Wilfred and Mabel - because without them, I would have neither a subject for my blog, nor a subject for my novel.
Our friends Alex and Graeme Thompson (and their children Oscar and Bea) for allowing me to write most of this novel from their kitchen table.
My parents, Roger and Sarah; my sister Rebecca, and my in-laws Paul and Penny, for all the offers of childcare and for the general support and encouragement (sorry about the swear words).
My brother Anthony, because I couldn’t possibly write these acknowledgements without mentioning him. He never did like reading books very much, but he would definitely have been proud that I have written one.
My favourite English teacher; Mrs Lennox. Every time I write, her advice still comes into my head.
My agent; Caroline Montgomery from Rupert Crew, for believing in me from the beginning and helping me whip this manuscript into something worth pitching to publishers.
And finally to my editor Hannah and the whole team at Aria at House of Zeus, for making my writing dreams come true.
About Louise Emma Clarke
LOUISE EMMA CLARKE’s blog, ‘Mum of Boys and Mabel’, has over 100k followers. Having moved to Dubai with her family she’s now back in the UK and is enjoying writing. From Mum with Love is her debut novel.
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Addictive Fiction
First published in the United Kingdom in 2019 by Aria, an imprint of Head of Zeus Ltd
Copyright © Louise Emma Clarke, 2019
The moral right of Louise Emma Clarke to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act of 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
This is a work of fiction. All characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
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A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
ISBN 9781789541908
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