Amy, mid-sip, nearly choked. ‘You’re joking me, right?’
‘But he’s still your son.’
‘Not if he’s gay, he won’t be. And as for what his gran will have to say about it…’
‘Look, I don’t know much about this sort of stuff and I know diddly-squat about kids but all I can say is that you fretting and worrying won’t change how Ashley is going to turn out. He’s a nice kid with nice friends and as long as he’s happy – well, isn’t that all that matters at the end of the day?’
‘I suppose,’ said Amy, gloomily. ‘Anyway, let’s not talk about Ash.’
There was silence for a second or two before Belinda said, ‘This date of yours… do you want the same arrangement as before – me giving you a message from Ash if you rub your nose?’
‘Nah. If this guy is as bad as the last one I’m not going to worry about hurting his feelings; I’ll just bugger off. And if I’d known how crap the last guy was going to be I wouldn’t have bothered making that plan.’
‘Amy,’ said Belinda ringing up Amy’s bill and getting out the change, ‘if you’d known how crap the last guy was going to be, you wouldn’t have bothered coming to meet him at all.’ She handed over the coins.
‘Good point.’
‘So what’s this one like?’
‘His profile looks OK. You know, the usual.’
‘Tell me.’
‘Single, good sense of humour.’
‘Which means he hasn’t got one. People who’ve got one don’t make a song and dance about it.’
‘He said he’s honest,’ countered Amy.
‘Pathological liar.’
‘Athletic.’
‘Watches sport on TV.’
Amy started to giggle and got her phone out to give Belinda the benefit of the full profile. She scrolled to the app with her thumb. ‘Attractive.’
‘Arrogant.’
‘Likes pubs and clubs.’
‘An alcoholic.’
Amy was shaking with laughter. ‘Outgoing.’
‘Thinks he’s funny when drunk – see previous answer,’ added Belinda. ‘Oh, hang on, customer.’
A bloke with bad posture, a massive beerbelly, thinning red hair and a wispy beard came through the door.
‘What can I get you, sir?’ said Belinda.
‘Actually I’m looking for someone,’ he said. His voice was a Brummie nasal whine
‘Oh, yeah. Who might that be?’
‘A lady called Amy.’
Belinda caught the look on Amy’s face. She frowned, as if in deep thought. ‘Are you sure you’ve got the right place?’ she said to the man.
‘Oh, yes.’
‘Can’t help you, I’m afraid. Never heard of an Amy.’ She looked straight at Amy. ‘Have you, ducks?’
Amy bit the inside of her cheeks as she shook her head. ‘Nope.’
The man looked as if he might cry. ‘Oh, well. Sorry to have bothered you.’
‘No worries,’ Belinda called after him as he shut the door.
The pair dissolved.
*
Next morning, after Belinda had cashed up, taken the takings to the bank and hoovered the pub carpet, she popped next door to see Bex. The car was parked on the drive so there was every possibility her neighbour was in. She rang the doorbell and waited… and waited. A chill breeze nipped at her legs under her skirt and Belinda began to wish she’d slung on a coat. Maybe Bex was in town running some errands – or doing PTA business…
The door opened and there was Bex looking grey and ill.
‘Oh, hi, Belinda.’
‘Hell’s teeth, Bex, what on earth is the matter?’
Bex let Belinda in and closed the door behind her. ‘Just some rotten bug.’
‘Have you seen the doc?’
‘It’ll pass.’
‘I’ll take it that means “no”.’
Bex led Belinda into the kitchen and slumped onto a chair. She looked done-in. Belinda sat opposite her.
‘Bex, you’ve been ill for three days. This can’t be some twenty-four-hour sick bug.’
‘So, it’s a seventy-two-hour bug. Look, I’m sorry I’ve let you down this week.’
‘I’m not here about you going sick. I’m here because I’m worried about you. And so is Miles.’
‘You shouldn’t be.’
‘How are you coping?’
‘Honestly, don’t fuss.’ She sounded tetchy.
‘But seriously, what about cooking?’
‘I manage.’
‘Miles could help. He could rustle up some stuff so all you have to do is heat it through.’
‘No!’
Belinda stared at her friend. She was tempted to tell her to keep her hair on but stopped herself. She stayed silent, hoping to force Bex into talking. The silence stretched on.
‘I’m sorry,’ said Bex eventually.
‘I’m not asking for an apology.’
‘Then what?’
‘Look, tell me to mind my own business but is it something more than a bug?’
A tear slid down one of Bex’s cheeks. She dashed it away.
‘Honey, tell me,’ implored Belinda.
‘I can’t.’
‘Oh, God, you’re not… I mean… not… not cancer.’
Bex gave her a weak smile. ‘No, it’s nothing terminal. Nothing life-threatening.’
‘Then what?’
‘Don’t judge me.’ There was a long pause. ‘I’m pregnant.’
‘Bloo… dy… hell,’ whispered Belinda.
‘Yup, pretty much my reaction.’
‘Are you sure?’
Bex nodded. ‘I’ve done the test – there’s no doubt. I mean, I was pretty sure anyway. I’ve done this twice before so I kind of know the symptoms.’
Belinda stared at her and blinked. She didn’t know what to say.
‘I’m not sure if I can cope with it, though, this time,’ admitted Bex.
‘What? You mean…’
Bex nodded and shrugged. ‘Belinda, I don’t know. I’ve been over and over it. I can’t bear the idea of a termination but I can’t bear the idea of nappies and sleepless nights either. And then there’s Megan. I mean, she mightn’t react as badly as I think she might, but why wouldn’t she go bat-shit? Her dad died only last year and she might be horrified. What I’ve done isn’t against any law, but Megan mightn’t see it like that. I wouldn’t blame her if she felt as though I’d betrayed Richard. And if she does… well, it might destroy her relationship with me.’ She gazed at Belinda. ‘You’re the only person I’ve told so far and please, please don’t breathe a word.’
‘No, no of course not. Shit, I’d never do that. It’s your body, your life; you must do what’s best for you.’
‘I suppose.’ Bex still looked miserable. ‘I wish I knew what that was.’
‘Would you like tea?’ offered Belinda.
Bex shook her head. ‘But you make a cup – I’m not sure mine’ll stay down.’
‘The morning sickness is that bad?’
‘Worse. I can function by the afternoon but the mornings are the pits. It’ll pass.’
‘If you keep the baby.’
Bex rubbed her face with her hands. ‘Yes. God, this is a mess.’
‘Does the father know?’ asked Belinda, getting up to fill the kettle.
Bex sighed. ‘Not yet.’
‘Are you going to tell him?’
Bex looked close to tears again. ‘I don’t know. If I do, it’ll complicate everything all the more.’ She looked up at Belinda. ‘And don’t tell me I should.’
‘Sweetie, I wouldn’t dream of it.’
‘At least you haven’t asked me who the father is.’
‘Believe me, I’m dying to but… well… very occasionally, I do know how to behave properly and tactfully.’
Bex smiled for the first time. ‘God, you’re such a great friend.’
‘It doesn’t mean I’m not still gagging to know.’
*
‘Megan, Megan,’ called Ashley across the school playground.
Megan turned, her heart sinking. She’d been avoiding him on purpose because, if she was honest, she was getting a bit sick of him wanting to rehearse all the time.
‘Yeah?’
‘What you doing after school?’
‘I’m going round to Soph’s.’
‘Can I come?’
‘Er… why would you want to? Soph and I have got things we want to talk about – girl things.’
‘Oh.’ Ashley looked crestfallen.
‘Anyway, won’t you want to be going over your lines or something?’
‘I know my part backwards.’
Which was undeniably true and which was a boast Megan couldn’t share. ‘Yeah, well.’
‘Besides, I’d really like to see Soph’s mum.’
Megan frowned. ‘Then why don’t you ask Sophie if you can? Although you must have got every last shred of info about acting out of Lizzie.’
‘I doubt it,’ said Ashley. ‘I mean, there’s so much to know. I bet actors like Benedict Cumberbatch never stop learning.’
‘But you’re not an actor, you’re a kid in a school panto.’ Ashley looked devastated and Megan regretted her hurtful words instantly. ‘I’m sorry, Ash, I didn’t mean it like that.’
‘You don’t get it, do you?’
‘I don’t get what?’
‘You don’t get acting. To you it’s just an after-school thing. But to me… to me it’s… Oh, you just don’t understand. No one does.’ He strode off.
Megan stared after him. This acting thing was really changing him. Maybe he was really serious about it after all – like he was going to wind up doing it for a living. People did, she supposed, she just never thought she’d be friends with someone who did. Wouldn’t it be cool to be mates with a film star?
Chapter 24
Amy let herself into Bex’s house.
‘Coo-ee.’
A weak ‘hello’ was the response from the sitting room. Amy crossed the hall and saw Bex sitting on the sofa – she had dark shadows under her eyes and she looked far from well.
‘You still poorly? Belinda said you weren’t well when I saw her the other evening.’
‘It’s just a bug,’ said Bex.
‘Dragging on a bit, ain’t it? Belinda said you’ve been off a couple of days and that was on Wednesday.’
‘Yes, well… I’m sure I’m going to be better soon.’
‘The usual, then?’
‘Please.’
‘I’ll shut the door so you don’t get disturbed. You look like you could do with a rest. Thought I’d make meself a cuppa – you want one?’
Bex shook her head.
Amy pottered off into the kitchen. While the kettle boiled she decided to empty the bin. She flipped open the lid and began to haul out the plastic bag. Jeez, what was in it? It was full to bursting and weighed a bloody ton. She gave it a yank and the bag ripped.
‘Oh, for gawd’s sake,’ she sniped. She sighed and got a fresh bag out of the drawer where Bex kept them. She returned to the bin and wondered how best to go about dealing with the mess. She opened up the new bag and rolled it down so she could dump the torn one straight into it once she’d extracted it. Well, that was the plan. As she hauled the old one out it gave way completely and rubbish cascaded over the floor.
‘Bollocks!’ Amy shook her head in frustration, grabbed the rubber gloves and began to pick up soggy bits of kitchen towel, non-recyclable plastics, used tissues – ugh – a pair of socks with holes in, cling film, a Clear Blue pregnancy test box… A what?!
Amy rocked back on her heels and looked at the box. Blimey. She glanced at the door then rattled the box. Yup, the result was in there although she really didn’t think she needed to check – not with the way Bex was looking – but she did anyway. Well, well, well.
*
Later, when she’d finished at Bex’s, Amy thought she’d call in on her mum.
‘Wotcha,’ she said, when Mags opened the door.
‘Hiya, Ames. Cuppa?’
‘Love one. Gasping, I am.’ Amy closed the door behind her and peered into her mum’s sitting room. ‘You look nearly straight.’
‘Yeah, pretty much. The spare room’s still got stuff in it but I ain’t in no hurry to get that sorted. Can’t see loads of people queuing up to visit all of a sudden.’ Mags filled the kettle.
‘It didn’t take you long, did it?’
It’s amazing how much time you’ve got when you don’t work. What do people on the dole do with themselves all day?’
‘Watch daytime TV, I suppose. Although that Mrs Osborne up at Mrs L’s old place ain’t straight yet and she don’t work, and I can’t see her watching Jeremy Kyle – right snooty she is. Mind you, when you’re hell-bent on having every last thing you own hidden in a cupboard, I suppose it takes longer.’
‘What’s the point in having stuff if it’s all shoved out of sight?’
‘Lord knows. But she’s going to have to get most of it out again soon – she’s got builders coming in to rip half the house out – new bathrooms this time… I dunno, more money than sense, if you ask me. There was nothing wrong with the old bathrooms. Anyway, that’s not why I’ve come round.’
‘What’s up?’
‘Guess what I found out today.’
‘Dunno, tell me.’
‘Bex is up the duff.’
‘Get away.’
‘Straight up. I found a positive pregnancy test in the bin.’
‘It could be her daughter’s.’
‘Megan? Give over.’
‘It’s not such a daft idea, she’s been knocking around with that Zac lad again.’
‘I used to hope that her and Ash might get friendly but even with the panto and everything they don’t seem to want to walk out together.’
‘If you’re right, that he’s … you know… that’s not going to happen, is it?’
Amy sighed. ‘I suppose. On the other hand I wouldn’t have to worry about him getting some girl up the duff like his dad did to me. Or someone did to Bex. She was on the sofa when I went round this morning, looking like death warmed over.’
The kettle boiled noisily and clicked off.
‘Who do you reckon the dad is?’ asked Mags as she chucked teabags into two mugs.
‘I reckon it’s Miles. I’ve seen him round there a few times. Besides, I don’t think Bex knows any other men – well, not single ones.’
‘Being single’s never mattered.’ Mags fished out the bags and added milk.
‘I think it would to Bex,’ said Amy. ‘She’s a really nice lady and as she’s lost her husband I don’t think she’d nick someone else’s.’
‘If you say so,’ said Mags.
*
Bex clicked off the website on her laptop. She’d been looking at ideas to combat morning sickness. When she’d been pregnant with the boys it hadn’t really bothered her; she’d felt ropy first thing but then she’d been pretty OK for the rest of the day. This sickness was something else and while she didn’t want to take medication – knowing about thalidomide meant that she didn’t trust anything pharmaceutical – she was happy to have a go at some natural remedies. Ginger and lemon tea seemed to be a popular one, along with nibbling on crackers before getting up. She’d give it a whirl over the weekend. She really wanted to go back to work and the kids needed a proper mother, not a semi-invalid.
She dragged herself to the Co-op and got a packet of water biscuits, a few lemons and a large piece of ginger root. As she paid for her purchases at the till she saw Belinda enter the shop. Putting on a brave face she waved across the shop floor.
‘How are you doing?’ said Belinda as she approached.
‘Oh, you know…’
‘Still feeling crap?’
Bex indicated the objects on the conveyor waiting to be paid for. ‘I’ve read that this lot might help and I am willing to try anything – well, within reason. It can’t d
o any harm.’ The cashier rang up her shopping and Bex handed over a fiver, stuffed her shopping in a carrier and took her change.
‘I don’t know anything about this,’ said Belinda, ‘but isn’t it going to get worse before it gets better?’
‘Not necessarily and I need to come up with strategies so I can cope. I can’t lie around all day. Apart from anything I’m going stir-crazy.’
‘Look, I’ve got a part-timer filling in for you, but she knows her stuff and the pub is like a graveyard at the mo; frankly I am surplus to requirements. Why don’t I come round to yours when I’ve done my shopping and we can have a bit of a chat? What time do you have to get the boys?’
Bex consulted her watch. ‘Not for another hour. Yes, that’d be lovely.’
Ten minutes later the pair were both in Bex’s kitchen; Bex sipping water with a slice of lemon floating in it and nibbling on a cracker while Belinda tucked into tea and Hobnobs.
‘You must be poorly if you can’t eat a Hobnob,’ observed Belinda.
‘Actually, while I don’t want to eat one, I don’t feel sick at the thought of you eating one, which is how I felt earlier this week. I have to be able to function if Megan isn’t going to start asking awkward questions.’
‘You haven’t made your mind up what to do, I take it.’
Bex shook her head and took another sip of water. ‘I think if it were just me and the boys I wouldn’t hesitate about keeping it. My first reaction was horror at the thought of nappies and broken nights but… well… it might be a girl and, while I loved looking after Megan when she was little, I didn’t come into her life till she was gone two.’ She sighed. ‘And I don’t think the boys would judge me, not being as young as they are, nor knowing how babies are made.’ She gave Belinda a lopsided grin. ‘But Megan…’
‘Yes, I understand.’
‘I’ve got to consider her too and I think, in fairness to her, I can’t keep the baby. Except a part of me wants to. Belinda, I am so torn.’ Bex felt close to tears. Hormones, she told herself. She sniffed and sat up straighter.
‘Oh, Bex.’ Belinda put her hand over her friend’s. ‘You can’t keep putting off this decision, though. To be honest, I’m surprised Megan hasn’t noticed.’
‘She’s all wrapped up in the play she’s in and I was careful she never saw M… I was very discreet.’
The Bells of Little Woodford Page 18
