Are We Nearly There Yet

by Lucy Vine

  ‘That’s even more reason to do it, Eva,’ I say, enthusiasm building in my voice. ‘This is probably your last chance to do something this random and spontaneous for the next eighteen years! Soon you’ll be trapped with Jeremy and the baby, with no exit or escape.’

  That last bit was probably a bit harsh, but it is also true.

  She looks thoughtful. ‘I mean, I could . . .’ she starts but then stops. ‘No, no, I can’t. What about work?’

  ‘Surely they’d let you take a week or two off?’ I try, but I can see I’m losing her. ‘Oh, come on, Eva! Why not! I know what you’re like. You never take your holiday entitlement, and your boss is nice, isn’t she . . .? Listen, I really miss you, we haven’t seen each other in months, and I think you actually need this.’

  A sudden look crosses her face and she sits up straighter.

  ‘I’m going to do it,’ she says, determined. ‘I’m coming.’

  ‘Are you SERIOUS?’ I shout, and people nearby shoot me a look. ‘Do you mean it?’ I say, quieter this time but I am jumping up and down inside.

  She nods happily. ‘I’m going to book a flight right now,’ she says, and she is already tapping away at her computer. ‘Send me the details of where I’m flying to. Can I stay with you?’

  ‘Of course,’ I crow, and I am so happy. ‘We will have such a great time. We can take the slow-boat trip up the Mekong river, visit the Golden Triangle and stay overnight. I wanted to do it, but thought I’d run out of time. This is perfect!’

  She claps her hands, thrilled. ‘I can’t believe I’m really doing this. Oh, I can’t wait, Alice! I can’t wait to see you and catch up. I’ve missed so much.’

  We grin at each other.

  25

  AWOL.COM/Alice Edwards’ Travel Blog

  27 June – 7.19 p.m.

  Oh HIYA!

  Guess who’s just arrived over here!!!!! My best friend in the universe, Eva, has come to see me in north Thailand, and she is currently sweating her way through her UK travelling clothes. She has never looked better. We’re going to hook up with my fabulous pal Clara, and get on a boat. Thailand doesn’t know what’s coming.

  Many, many blurry drunk selfies to come. No more monkeys though, I swear.

  Love,

  Axx

  8 Comments · 145 AWOLs · 101 Super Likes

  COMMENTS:

  Sarah Sommers

  | No way! The pair of you are going to rip up East Asia. So jel!!

  Clara Weber

  | I can’t wait to meet you Eva, I’ve heard so much about you!!!

  Eva Slate

  Replying to Clara Weber

  | Clara, I’m so excited to meet you, too!!

  Kirpa Saul

  | You paint such evocative images. I can just picture sweaty Eva in a scarf right now.

  Eva Slate

  Replying to Kirpa Saul

  | Kirpa, I’m literally in a scarf, hahaha!

  Seamus NaughtyLad678

  | lol u have freinds? Yeh rite

  Karen Gill

  | Aren’t you heavily prego right now, Eva?! Take it easy you two!

  Eva Slate

  Replying to Karen Gill

  | Karen, yes I am just nearly six months!! But it’s OK because pregnant women aren’t broken or ill, lol!

  ‘What are these?’ Eva is pawing through my drawer, trying to find room for her stuff. She holds up my favourite grey pants.

  I grab them off her. ‘I have pared down my luggage,’ I tell her self-importantly. ‘I have learnt to value things for their internal importance rather than judging them on their external appearance, like most people.’ I shoot her a supercilious look before adding, ‘Plus, I am a Sheathologist now and have learnt to love my vagina and give it what it needs. And it needs giant, comfy, grey pants, so stop judging me.’

  Eva giggles and dumps her casually expensive stuff out of her bag into the drawer, on top of mine. We’ll just share, I guess.

  I still can’t believe she’s actually here. I stare at her for a moment, smiling my head off.

  ‘Do I look awful?’ she says, looking gloomy as she catches my adoring gaze. ‘I feel awful. It’s been so long since I felt out of control of my body like this.’ She cups her protruding little stomach. ‘I thought I’d just gain weight on my belly, like those celeb mums you see in the mags and on telly, but I’ve gained it everywhere. And like, I thought it would just be this perfect, neat little bump. But it’s all lumpy and flabby. And I also didn’t think it would be here yet! I’m six months gone, and I have a layer of blubber all over. It’s everywhere. Al, I’ve even gone up a shoe size! And look at this . . .’ She pokes at the skin showing through the rips on her jeans. ‘I have blobs of fat poking through the holes. I swear this has only happened since I left England. Every day I wake up and my body has changed in another weird way.’ She sighs and I give her a long hug.

  ‘Eva!’ I say, slightly scolding. ‘Firstly, you are absolutely beautiful, I wish you could be less hung up on your weight. It’s all just societal messaging brainwashing, telling you that you need to look a certain way. And your mum. But it is really meaningless. We might just as easily have decided a hundred years ago that being a size twenty was the ideal look. It’s totally subjective.’ She sighs again heavily, and I keep going. ‘And secondly, dude! You are literally making another human being. Of course your body is going to change. I know it’s weird and scary, but you are a fucking superhero. Your body is creating life, it is magnificent, you are magnificent.’

  She smiles a little wanly and sits down heavily on the end of the bed. ‘Ali . . . it’s not just the body thing. It’s been a rough few weeks.’ She takes a deep breath. ‘I don’t know how to say this, so I’m just going to say it.’ She pauses. ‘Me and Jeremy broke up.’

  ‘WHAT?’ I say, too loudly. No! What? Did she really just say that? I’m flummoxed, I can’t believe it. Where has this come from?

  ‘What?’ I say again in a lower voice, sitting down next to her and putting my arm round her. ‘Oh Eva, no! I’m so sorry. No, you can’t mean it. What’s happened?’

  She is silent for a full minute, staring at the floor. ‘Things have just changed between us since we found out about the baby,’ she says at last, her voice full of emotion. ‘He doesn’t seem to get it that things are going to need to be different. He’s been out just as much as ever and I need him at home. I don’t know how to say that without sounding like a needy nag, though. I don’t know how to talk to him about how I feel. I knew my life would change, but, I don’t know, I thought it would be more magical. It’s all so unfamiliar and I don’t know what is happening to me. I am so scared and everything is going to be so different. I am different, and I don’t just mean with my body, but my mind.’ She breathes in slowly. ‘I don’t know how to get my head round the idea that me and Jeremy are going to be responsible for a person. A whole person. If we get that wrong, if we mess her up, we’re going to be to blame!’ She is cradling her stomach protectively as her words rush out. ‘I feel so overwhelmed with the information. I keep reading books, but they all just make me more afraid. There’s so much you’re supposed to know, and it keeps going on about maternal instinct, but what if I don’t have that? I don’t think I have it yet, so when does it kick in? Will I just somehow know how to change a nappy? And, oh, there are going to be so many nappies, Alice! Did you know a newborn needs to be changed twelve times a day?! And we’re never going to get any sleep – you know how much I love my sleep – and there is just so much responsibility. I’m so, so scared.’ Tears are rolling down her face and I pull her close as she finally stops for air. My poor, poor Eva.

  ‘I want to talk to Jeremy, but I don’t know how, and I know he won’t understand it,’ she swipes at her face but the tears keep coming. ‘It’s easy for the dad, they just have to take their kid to the park once a week an
d everyone hails them as some kind of a hero. People keep saying they’re sure he’ll be “helpful”, as if he’s a bonus rather than a parent who should do half. And I’m worried about leaving work. What if I forget everything or they realise they don’t need me at all? I like working – what if they don’t want me to come back? I mentioned to my mum about not taking my whole maternity leave and she laughed in my face. She said I probably won’t ever want to go back and why should I. But no one expects Jeremy to stop working! Then Mum said it wouldn’t be possible to go back to work early, what with breastfeeding, and when I admitted I wasn’t sure how long I’d be doing that, or if I’d be able to breastfeed at all – Al, you know what tiny nipples I have! – she looked at me like I’d told her I was planning to drown my own baby. Then she started talking about hiring nannies but I don’t want to do that either . . .’

  She trails off and puts her face in her hands to cry properly.

  Fucking hell. Being pregnant sounds awful. What is with all these dickheads telling her how to do everything? Eva is going to be a lovely mum! Surely the only thing that really matters is that the baby is really loved? And that’s never going to be a problem for my kind-hearted Eva.

  I don’t know what to say. But I don’t think this is one of those conversations where Eva wants me to offer solutions or try to fix this, she just needs to talk and let it all out. It doesn’t sound like she’s been able to talk to anyone about any of this. Reading my mind, she continues in in a raspy, cried-out voice. ‘I’ve tried so many times to tell Jeremy all that, but it’s hard to explain, y’know? Then I told him I was coming here and we had a huge fight. It was horrible. He didn’t understand why I was going. Then he even said he’d come too. He didn’t get it, he didn’t understand that I needed an escape from him. I told him I needed space and then we . . . then we broke up, Alice.’ She pauses and I think she is going to properly lose it. She sobs, ‘I am so, so tired from all this, so tired of trying to understand, and of trying to make him understand, Al. And you’ve been so far away . . .’

  ‘Oh my God, Eva, I’m so, so sorry,’ I say in a rush. ‘I’m so sorry. I had no idea. I thought you were in your little pregnant love bubble. I thought you didn’t want me around. I assumed you wouldn’t want me getting in the way of your new life with Jeremy and the baby.’ I pause and add slowly, ‘I thought you didn’t need me in your life any more.’

  She looks up at me, eyes wide, the crying momentarily stopped. ‘Did you really? Alice, I’m so sorry. I didn’t realise.’ She takes a deep breath. ‘It was the opposite, I have needed you more than ever, but I didn’t want you to feel like you couldn’t get on with your own life or stop you having all this fun. Oh God, Al, have I been awful? Have I been shoving my relationship in your face? Have I been leaving you out? Am I one of those dreadful smug couples we used to moan about? Is it my fault you ran away? Is it because of the flat? Honestly Alice, you really didn’t need to move out, I didn’t want you to go. Certainly not yet. But you seemed like you wanted to go. I thought you couldn’t wait to escape the boring pregnant lady and the idea of a screaming baby on its way. I’m so sorry, Alice.’

  I feel terrible. She hasn’t been awful. She’s been wonderful. My wonderful, wonderful Eva. My warm, sweet, kind, lovely Eva. She has always been there for me. Always looking after me, caring for me, making sure I’m OK. Always understanding when I’m horrible and selfish and snappy.

  I shake my head slowly. ‘Eva, no,’ I say quietly. ‘You haven’t been awful. I’ve been awful. I can’t believe the way I’ve been acting. I’ve been a child. I pushed you away, like I do with everyone. Like I always do. I think I . . .’ I hesitate, taking a deep breath. ‘I think I was punishing you for being with Jeremy. Punishing you for having a baby. For moving on with your life. For going off and getting yourself a life without me. I didn’t do it entirely consciously, but I think I’ve been out here, ignoring you, to make some kind of point. Not replying, not contacting you like before, to make you feel bad for “abandoning” me. And that makes me the most unbelievable selfish prick. I am so, so sorry. I hate myself.’

  I’m crying too now, a lot. Eva reaches for me this time, pulling me closer. Even when she’s in pain, going through hell, she’s still the one comforting and reassuring others. The thought makes me cry even harder and I sob into her t-shirt as she whispers, ‘It’s OK Al, it’s really OK.’

  We cry together for a few more minutes, and when we pull apart we are both red and blotchy.

  ‘I’ll get a tissue,’ I say, laughing weakly. She sniffs and smiles gratefully.

  Returning from the loo, I hand Eva a wad of tissue and say quietly, ‘I’m really so sorry about Jeremy.’

  She smiles brightly, shaking the emotions away. ‘Thank you, me too. But I’m OK. I think it’s the right decision. We haven’t been good together for months. It’s changed between us. I love him so much, but if we can’t get through this bit together, how will we cope when we’re changing nappies on no sleep? Obviously it’s not ideal with the baby coming. But I can be a single mum, can’t I? Maybe I can hire one of Mum’s nannies after all. And he’ll still be a good dad. He’s a really good man, Alice, he’ll still be there for us. It’ll be OK, I know it.’

  I nod confidently. ‘It will be OK, definitely, Eva.’

  She’s broken up with Jeremy. I can’t believe it.

  But shit, this is a good thing, isn’t it? I knew they weren’t right for each other, I knew it! I called it. I never liked lame old Jeremy.

  Except . . . wasn’t that all just the resentment and jealousy talking? Wasn’t it just because he was the one making My Eva happy instead of me? Wasn’t that just me being petty because I felt left out? And didn’t he always treat her nicely? Didn’t he always make an effort to be friendly to me and all our friends? Wasn’t Eva always smiling when he was around? Didn’t he make Eva happier than I’d ever seen her?

  I push the thought away.

  ‘You will be absolutely fine – great even,’ I say emphatically again, sitting back down and dabbing at the mascara smeared all over Eva’s face. ‘Just because you two Frankensteined a baby together, doesn’t mean he’s the one for you, Eva. I think you just decided he was The One because your ex’s penis looked like a ketchup bottle and Jeremy’s was so normal in comparison.’

  She nods, agreeing half-heartedly, but she still looks sad.

  ‘I might go for a little walk on my own, if you don’t mind too much?’ she says after a minute, standing up. ‘Clear my head, get a bit of air on these swollen eyes!’

  ‘Are you sure?’ I say, worried. ‘I could come with you?’

  ‘No, no,’ she says nicely. ‘I think I just need a little quiet time on my own. I need to stretch my legs after that massive flight, wedged into that middle seat – and then again in the taxi. I won’t be long, and then we can get a drink and plan what we’re going to do for the rest of this week. I’m excited! I promise I won’t spend the whole time being a weepy, wail-y mess!’

  She kisses me on the cheek, giving my arm a last squeeze and heads briskly for the door.

  Eva has never liked getting emotional in front of me. Or anyone. I’m guessing she is going somewhere quiet to cry some more. I have learnt over the years to just let her go in these situations.

  The door shuts and I sit heavily on the bed again. What a selfish bitch I’ve been. Just because my friend is doing new things with her life doesn’t mean I have to lose her. Sure, things will change – that is life – but we will always have each other. And I am excited about being the best Auntie Alice ever.

  But what about Jeremy? I can’t believe I didn’t realise things were this bad. Or bad at all! I’ve been swanning about, ignoring Eva when she needed to talk. Maybe if she had me to talk to, she wouldn’t have needed Jeremy so much. We all need different people for different things in our lives, right? Without me around to talk to, and with Eva going through so much, how could t
hings not start imploding with Jeremy?

  A buzzing interrupts my thought process and I realise Eva’s left her phone on the bed.

  Caller ID says it’s him. It’s Jeremy. I take a deep breath and I answer.

  ‘Jeremy?’ I say and there is a pause on the end of the line. ‘Alice?’ he says, hesitantly.

  ‘Yeah,’ I say heavily, unsure. ‘It’s me.’

  ‘Does Eva not want to talk to me?’ His voice breaks and I clock how wretched he sounds.

  ‘Oh, it’s not that,’ I say hurriedly. ‘She’s just popped out for a walk. She forgot her phone, she won’t be long. Are you doing OK, Jeremy?’

  There is a long, dark silence and I realise he’s crying. ‘Not really,’ he says simply. ‘I guess she told you she broke up with me?’

  ‘Yeah. Yeah, she did. I’m really sorry.’ I don’t know what else to say.

  ‘I didn’t know anything was wrong!’ he says through his tears. ‘She has been a bit quiet lately, and I know she’s found it strange with her body changing and everything, but I laughed that off. Of course her body was going to change! I didn’t think she was being serious.’

  For a moment I am annoyed with him. How could he not know his partner was going through a big thing? And how could he think it was just that simple! Isn’t it his job to know she was suffering?

  The flare of anger fades just as quickly as I realise I had no idea she was struggling either. I had no clue. She’s very good at hiding things and I have no right to judge. If Eva wasn’t talking – wasn’t explaining how she felt – how was he supposed to help her or change things?

  There’s a weird onus we put on each other in relationships, an expectation that our loved ones should be able to guess what is wrong with us from tiny hints – but how? Really, how? How is anyone supposed to know what’s happening in anyone else’s head? Why can’t we just talk to each other? Be honest and explain what we need? If we could start asking for help, the world would be a much better, easier place to live in.