by Rachel Dove
‘You look nice. Are they really divorcing because of that?’
Cassie looked down at herself, shrugging.
‘Oh, thanks. Tucker picked it out. Not just that, no. He’d also been slipping one of the godmothers a bit of special attention, but still, it got me thinking.’
Maria was baffled. ‘About what?’
‘Kids’ clothes! You could make them, Mar, for the shop. No one in Westfield does them really. New Lease of Life does the knitted stuff from the nana knitting club thingy, but not clothes. You do the Halloween children’s stuff already, so why not do more? People have to do mail order or go into town. You could even make christening gowns! They’re just like wedding dresses for babies anyway, aren’t they? I bet they’d sell well, and Lynn could help you, and you could make a load for the baby too, save money.’
‘Oh my God, Cass, that’s bloody brilliant!’
Maria sat up quickly, sending bubbly water flying over the end of the bath. Cassie grabbed a towel from the rail and mopped it up before Maria could even make a move.
‘Wow, I’m living in a parallel universe, aren’t I? What the hell are you doing?’
Cassie looked up from wiping the last of the water away one-handed, throwing the towel into the newly acquired laundry hamper that now sat in there.
‘What?’ she said, swigging her wine. ‘Tuck cleaned up today; I’m just giving him a hand. He still can’t quite bend right.’
‘Tuck, eh?’ Maria knew her friend too well to let her off the hook. ‘And what else do you do for our little Australian friend, eh?’
Cassie knelt down near the top of the bath, her voice dropping to a whisper.
‘It’s not funny. I don’t know what to do, Mar. I think I might actually like him, but what am I going to do? I hit him with my car door and really hurt him. He’s been off work for ages. He’s got to be skint, but he’s too nice to say anything. He keeps buying food and cleaning stuff too! Do you think I should offer him some money, to help him? He won’t take any shopping money from me; I’ve tried. He might lose his digs!’
Maria shook her head. ‘No way. I think Tucker would really hate that. He doesn’t strike me as the kind of guy who would agree to that. You might offend him.’
Cassie rested her head on the side of the tub, and Maria stroked her hair, leaving a little trail of bubbles on her black locks.
‘Tell him how you feel, see what he says. He’s recovering well now; he knows you didn’t mean to batter him with your car—’ Cassie groaned. ‘I think you might be surprised.’
Maria had watched the pair of them skirt around each other every night, laughing at each other’s jokes, sitting on the sofa together, close enough to touch but not quite. She had been expecting to hear the pitter-patter of tiny, horny footsteps across the landing, but obviously that hadn’t happened yet. Perhaps Tucker wanted to be fighting fit before he started round two. Knowing their luck, he would probably sneak onto the couch and scare her to death, getting a throat punch for his trouble. She couldn’t blame him for wanting to be able to make a quick getaway from the lioness that was Cassie.
Cassie stood up, moving to the door. ‘Maybe, I don’t know.’ She drained her glass, waving her arms out wide. ‘I don’t do this, Mar, I don’t know how! How on earth did you do it?’
Maria laughed. ‘I didn’t do a stand-up job, did I? Left at the altar, knocked up on a one-night stand a month later, and now I’m planning—’
Cassie’s face dropped. ‘I thought you weren’t telling him? Mar, you can’t!’
Maria sank back down into the bubbles.
‘I’m not! Planning his wedding is bad enough. I feel awful, Cass. James’s sister – poor Annabel. Her Mark is my Mark. THE Mark. I still can’t believe it. James would be so upset, and he’s so lovely. I mean, today he—’
Cassie walked out of the bathroom door, slamming it shut behind her. Maria was still looking at it in shock when she came back in, bottle and glass in hand.
‘Tucker says dinner will be an hour. Roasted peppers and chicken something.’
She sat on the floor, pouring wine to near the brim of her wineglass.
‘You have to tell me everything, and you have an hour. Spill, now. Tell me about James.’
The roasted peppers were gorgeous, and the dinner was lovely. Tucker and Cassie were their usual selves, skirting around each other and making each other laugh with their daft jokes and sarcastic humour. Cassie was quite merry from the wine and, being exhausted from her day of passing out and gossiping, Maria headed off to bed early, leaving the two of them alone.
Cassie had grilled her, as only a solicitor could, asking her every little detail, who knew what, what happened next, whether Darcy had been in touch.
‘I haven’t seen him since he came to the hospital, and I don’t answer his calls. I think he’s got the message.’
‘And James? What about him? Does he really not know?’
The very thought twisted in her gut like a knife.
‘No, of course not. I’m doing it for him. He wants his sister to be happy, and so do I. I can do the wedding, save money for the baby, and then be out of their lives.’
She had thought of lying in James’s arms today, and a feeling had stirred in her that she squashed down. Nope, not today.
Cassie had looked dejected. ‘Can you do that, though? Not see him again?’
Maria had risked a look at her friend; she knew Cassie wasn’t daft.
‘Cassie, he’s Annabel’s brother. Mark’s brother-in-law. They’re family, not me. I have to get out of their lives as soon as the wedding is over, let them be happy.’
‘Do you think James will be happy, you not being his friend anymore? Because the way I see it, he’s got quite used to you being in each other’s lives, and so have you.’
Maria swallowed hard. ‘I have no choice. There’s no other way to do this. Besides, I have the baby to think of. That’s my priority.’
Cassie nodded. ‘Just remember, Mar, how lonely you were when your mum passed, even with Darcy. I haven’t seen you this happy in a long while, even with everything you have going on. It’s not a coincidence that James came along when he did.’
The words rattled around in her brain half the night, till she eventually passed out in a heap, her quilt wrapped around her. She dreamt she was trapped in a burning building, a tiny little bundle in her arms. She was screaming for Cass, for Lynn, calling her mother’s name. Then she saw him. A man, striding through the fire, fireman trousers slung low on his waist, showing the deep V of his taut muscles. His jacket was open, showing a bare, sticky-with-sweat chest, glistening in the bright, crackling flames of the fire. He took her into his arms, the baby in hers, and started to walk to the exit, through the flames. She looked at his face, and was met with Darcy’s.
‘I’m sorry, my love,’ he said. And then he was gone, his face morphed into Mark’s. His straggly, unkempt hair stuck to his head with sweat.
‘I’m here,’ he said. In her dream, she looked away, pushing her face closer to the bundle in her embrace.
‘I’ve got you both,’ a voice said, tickling her ear. She looked back at her rescuer, and it was James, smiling down at them. ‘I’ll always be here to carry you over the threshold.’
She woke up with a start, looking around her wildly before realising she was still warm in bed at Cassie’s house. She punched the pillow beside her, feeling more than a little flustered. It was going to be a very long pregnancy at this rate.
Christmas Day came, and Maria awoke in Cassie’s cottage to the sound of carols and the smell of bacon. Tucker was in the kitchen, clad in a pair of tracksuit bottoms and a Santa hat. Even his kangaroo tattoo looked festive.
‘Morning, mummy-to-be,’ he said, tipping his spatula towards her. ‘Happy Christmas!’
Maria, clad in a nightie and slippers, dressing gown wrapped around her against the chill of leaving her bed, grinned at him.
‘Happy Christmas, Jesse, you okay? Where’s Cass?’
Tucker grinned. ‘She’s in her bed. She got a bit pissed last night and forgot she was on the sofa.’
Maria’s mouth formed a perfect O as she gasped.
He shook his head. ‘Nah, mate, I was a perfect gent. I came into the lounge.’
Maria sagged, disappointed.
‘You two need to sort it out.’ Tucker nodded earnestly.
‘Tell me about it. Once I get better, I plan to. It’s just…’
He sneaked a peek into the hall, to check Cassie wasn’t listening.
‘Your mate is a complicated woman. I would rather things happen sober next time, then she can’t palm me off.’
Maria nodded, smiling at him. Cassie might just have met her match in Jesse Tucker.
‘Besides, she’s a bit handy with strange weapons, so I have to be careful.’ He raised his potted arm and she laughed. The doorbell went and she froze, looking at the door in terror.
Lynn was with her sister, sunning herself in Jamaica for the festive season. And Cassie’s parents were also in the Caribbean, no doubt making their private butler earn every penny of his wages and forgetting they had ever spawned a child.
Tucker went to the door, throwing a tea towel over his shoulder.
‘That’ll be our guest, right on time.’
Maria looked down the hallway, wondering who on earth would be coming here on Christmas Day. Tucker walked back into the kitchen, waggling his eyebrows at Maria.
‘Santa’s here,’ he said, and Maria found herself looking into James’s bright blue-green eyes, as he stood there, gift bags and a bottle of wine in hand.
‘Happy Christmas,’ he said, and she grinned.
‘Happy Christmas, James.’
***
January
Lynn took one look at her the first morning back at work and headed for the kettle.
‘Decaf coffee, love? You look awful!’
Maria pulled a face, taking off her hat, scarf and coat and slinging them onto the shoe rack. She kissed her fingers and touched her mother’s photo frame and her father’s hat on the way to the biscuit jar.
‘Thanks, Lynn. I didn’t sleep much, but the midwife says everything’s still fine. My iron levels are better, and my blood pressure is good.’
Fine and dandy. And apparently she was now a baby-making machine and a sex maniac. Over Christmas, the dreams had intensified, somehow including James dressed in nothing but a Santa hat. She couldn’t look at a Santa image now without blushing. Thank God it was back to normal business now.
‘Aww, that’s amazing! Did you hear the heartbeat again?’
Maria grinned. ‘Yeah, I did. It was so fast! I recorded it on my phone; I’ll send it to you. Amazing to think a little person with a little beating heart is in my tummy, isn’t it? I’m so glad everything’s okay.’
Lynn grinned. ‘Feeling the pregnancy bloom now, are we?’
Maria nodded. ‘Yes, I really think I am.’ She opened the biscuit tin.
‘Oh my God, where in the name of cock have all the friggin’ biscuits gone?’ She rounded on her work colleague, brandishing the tin at her and narrowing her eyes. Lynn was half-expecting a laser to shoot out of them and shrank back, shielding herself with a jar of decaf coffee.
‘Have you eaten them all, Lynn? Why didn’t you buy any more? I’m sooo hungry!’ She slammed the biscuit tin down. ‘Nothing goes right. Everything is so shit!’ She burst into tears, reaching for the kitchen roll and blowing her nose loudly. Lynn started making the coffee, and Maria felt a pang of shame.
‘I’m s-s-sorry, Lynn, I love you so much, I really do. I just really wanted a biscuit.’
Lynn nodded, passing her a coffee mug as though she was walking with a live bomb. Or towards one.
‘That’s all right, dear, I understand. You ate the biscuits, remember?’
Maria nodded, sniffing and trying to smile through her tears. She took a sip of her coffee and burst into loud tears again.
‘Decaf coffee tastes like turd! Why do I have to do this? I never asked for any of this. I’m so depressed!’
She plonked her coffee down on her desk, cradling the empty tin to her chest.
‘My life is over,’ she said, in a very undramatic tone.
The door opened then.
‘Whose life’s over?’ James asked, standing there with a tray of takeaway coffees from the café up the road, and a bulging carrier bag. ‘I just came to see what the midwife said, and I brought coffee. It’s not decaf, but I looked it up and you can have one a day without it hurting the baby. Also, the baby seems to like biscuits, so I brought some of them too.’
Maria burst into hysterical wails and Lynn ushered him in, giving him a hug and a peck on the cheek before taking the coffee with her name on it.
‘Baby’s fine, chicken, and I can honestly say I have never been so happy to see anyone in my life. I’m going to nip upstairs and do the online orders. Give me a shout before you go.’
James waved her off, taking a seat next to Maria, who was now sniffling into a huge wad of sodden kitchen roll. He put the coffees on her desk and, after a bit of coaxing, managed to pry the empty tin from the death grip she had on it. He opened one of the packets from the bag and filled it up. He held one to her lips, and she laughed through her tears.
‘Open wide,’ he commanded, and she bit into it, taking the rest from him. ‘So, midwife go okay?’
He took a hanky from his pocket and wiped her tears away. ‘Blow,’ he said, and she squeaked at him.
‘Eugh, no! I can’t!’
He wrapped the hanky round her nose and gave her his best stern look, which was mildly cross at best and very cute.
‘I’ve seen snot before. I work with big, burly builders. I’ve seen worse things come out of arse cracks, trust me.’
She giggled and did what she was told. He looked her over, seemingly satisfied.
‘Better. So, what’s wrong?’
‘I got a bit upset. It was a biscuit thing. Hormones, I think. The midwife says it’s going to get worse, and the rest of the stuff is no picnic either.’
‘Rest of the stuff?’
She blushed furiously. Not the best time to let slip about how horny she was, or the fact that her dreams were about him as a fireman, a jolly red-suited man, and a go-go dancer.
‘Nothing, just silly stuff.’
‘You’re both healthy, though, yeah?’
She told him yes, and he looked so relieved that her tummy fluttered. And then it fluttered again. Weird. She put her hand to her tummy, and she felt it again. A tiny little flutter. The midwife said she had felt it this morning, when she had the Doppler on, but Maria had discounted it as a hunger pain. Or maybe a suppressed fart. Another thing they left off the glowing-mum adverts on TV. The fact that your bum cheeks turned into the mouthpiece for a concerto of duck farts and foghorn toots.
Flutter flutter. There it went again. Definitely not flatulence.
‘Quick, feel!’ She grabbed James’s hand and placed it on her stomach, under her own. His hand felt huge on her tummy, hers fitting snugly on his. She could feel the warmth from his skin through her T-shirt. It fluttered again, and James’s face lit up.
‘Wow, was that the baby?’
She nodded, too choked up to speak. It felt so weird being here with him, doing this. Right, but so wrong. ‘I’m over four months now. The midwife said it would be happening.’
James leant in close, putting his other hand on her and cupping her belly.
‘Hey, little Sparky,’ he said softly. ‘You all happy and healthy in there?’
‘Sparky?’ she asked, entranced by his interest. Was this what having a baby with someone was like? She felt a pang for what she was missing out on.
He looked embarrassed. ‘Sorry, just my nickname. It’s an electrician thing. I know you call it Button, but I just call her Sparky.’
‘Her?’ Maria and another voice said. Darcy was standing in the doorway, staring at them both with a look Maria had ne
ver seen on him before.
The air crackled with tension. Maria felt like she could physically hear the hum of it in the air. Oh God, this is bad. He knows. Did he know already? Why is he here?
‘Her?’ Darcy asked again, a little meaner this time.
‘I… I… what are you doing here?’ she stammered, standing up. James’s hands fell from her tummy and he put them on his own jean-clad legs.
‘It’s a her? Our baby?’ Darcy said, a hint of wonder in his voice now. Our baby? Oh God, no. Why didn’t he seem more surprised? Was that why he was here?
‘Her baby,’ James growled. Darcy’s eyes narrowed, his sculpted brows furrowing.
‘Ours, I think you’ll find. Last time I checked. Here again, are we? Who are you, exactly?’
Maria opened her mouth to explain, but James stood up, standing close enough to Maria’s side to brush his arm against hers.
‘I’m James, not that it’s any of your business.’
Darcy snorted, a ridiculous, over-the-top sound he always made to show people his holier-than-thou contempt. Maria hated it, and she felt her skin bristle at the memory.
‘Funny thing, business, isn’t it? Being that this isn’t yours… James.’ He said James like a child might say Marmite sandwich, or extra homework. ‘I’ll thank you to leave now, so my fiancée and I can talk.’
‘Fiancée?’ James boomed, making Maria jump at his side. He didn’t take his eyes off Darcy, but squeezed her hand gently in his as if to apologise, to check she was okay. She couldn’t help but squeeze it back, keep it in hers for comfort. She could feel herself watching them distractedly, as though she was watching something she wasn’t a part of. Like a telenovela, enjoying the drama from her couch. ‘Mate, when you leave a woman at the altar, it’s a pretty sure sign that the engagement is off. Maria, do you want me to kick him out?’
‘Kick me out! How bloody dare you! You can leave, go on, go! Before I get really cross!’
‘Oooh, really cross, eh? Well, we can’t jolly well have you being cross, can we, you simpering douchebag!’
