by Jenny Kane
Rupert sat back down. ‘Tell me, Jack. I am making no promises, but I will let you speak without interruption.’
With his eyes fixed unwaveringly on the top of his wine glass, his hands clenched on each of his knees, Jack began to explain about his trip to Heaven, the frustration and sense of failure that had sent him there. And then how he’d felt the following morning, waking up in a stranger’s bed on the other side of the city. Again.
The silence across the table lasted a long time. Jack couldn’t bear to look up. He didn’t want the last image of Rupert stored in his memory to be that of him leaving the bistro, never to return.
At last, the younger man spoke. ‘I’m hungry. Curry? I saw a nice-looking place as I walked from the Tube.’
Jack hadn’t expected to get much sleep, knowing that Rupert was only a wall away on the sofa bed in the living room, but in fact he’d been out like a light. The previous evening had progressed from the early unease of his confession, to a gorgeous Indian meal, and a conversation about each other’s lives that had never faltered, going from the arrival of the complementary poppadoms to the after-meal tea and beyond, to them sitting on Jack’s sofa until the early hours of the morning.
It had felt the most natural thing in the world to ask Rupert to stay, and although he would have been lying if he’d said he didn’t want to share a bed with his guest, this was something he didn’t want to ruin by rushing, and so he’d said nothing.
Now, over coffee, orange juice, and Jack’s homemade croissants, Rupert switched on his laptop. ‘Can you help me pick out the best photo, then? As I said last night, I can’t narrow it down, and I can only enter one shot.’
‘Sure.’ Moving around the table so he was sat next to Rupert, Jack couldn’t stop the smile on his face. ‘These are breathtaking. I’m not surprised you can’t narrow your choice down.’
As Jack studied each photograph in turn, Rupert said, ‘You know Phil and Rob will never believe I slept in the spare room, don’t you?’
‘True. Although it’s none of their business that you’re even here, and I wasn’t planning on telling them. I’m not ashamed or anything; I just want to keep this safe for a while. Does that sound soppy?’
‘No. It sounds good.’ Rupert placed a tentative hand on Jack’s. ‘I don’t want to tell anyone either. Not yet.’
Chapter Thirty-one
Tuesday 26th July
‘Will you stop being so over-excited! Your demented puppy routine is making me more nervous than I am already.’
Paul couldn’t stop smiling. He was positively bouncing as they walked along. ‘There’s nothing to be nervous of, love. This is where we find out all the nitty-gritty bits.’
‘Exactly!’ Amy felt as though she was heading further out of her depth with every step along the clinic’s corridor towards the antenatal classroom. ‘I’m scared enough as it is without being told about the nitty gritty. I was perfectly happy in denial, thank you very much.’
Paul shook his head lovingly. ‘But you wanted the parenting classes to start last week. You said so?’
Seeing that her husband was in his element, Amy tried harder to hide the fact that she was terrified. ‘But what if I can’t do it?’
‘Which bit?’
‘All of it.’ Amy took Paul’s hand, partly to slow him down and partly for courage. ‘I can’t begin to imagine how it’s going to feel to be a parent, even though I’ve known it will happen, all being well, for months now. I can feel our child moving inside me, and it is wonderful, miraculous, and one hundred per cent terrifying!’ She stopped her slow wobbly walk and looked at her husband. ‘Aren’t you even a little bit worried?’
Paul cupped her chin. ‘Of course I am. A million things worry me. I’m frightened of not being able to care for you both, or provide for you, or be a good dad. Scared of not being strong enough for you during the birth – or worse, being held up and not getting to you in time. But I’m not as scared as I am excited about doing exactly those same things.’
Amy threw her arms around Paul. ‘Thank you. I’m just having a panic. It’s probably because we’re finally here. It seems to have taken so long to get to the antenatal stage. Makes it all very real.’
Paul patted his wife’s baby bump affectionately, ‘More real than this?’
‘Oddly, yes.’
Taking a deep breath, Amy followed Paul into the stiflingly warm antenatal room, which had two pink walls and two blue ones. Amy couldn’t help speculating if those who knew they were having girls would be sent to sit on the pink side, those with boys due on the blue one, and those who didn’t know yet, like her and Paul, would be given chairs in the middle of the room.
Amy was about to share her colour theory with Paul when they were descended upon by a broadly smiling woman in her late forties. ‘Hi, you must be Mr and Mrs Donahue?’
‘Amy and Paul.’ Paul shook her hand as Amy nervously looked at the woman’s practical short-sleeved shirt, jeans, and sensible shoes.
‘I’m Jean, and I’ll be taking care of you from now until b-day!’
‘B-day?’ Amy couldn’t help but like Jean straight away. She exuded a very welcoming quiet confidence.
‘Baby day.’ Jean indicated two empty chairs at the side of the room. ‘Come and say hello to your fellow almost-parents.’
Five minutes later, Amy and Paul had been introduced to three other couples and two unaccompanied women, who, much to her relief, seemed as apprehensive as she was.
Once everyone was kitted out with fruit tea, water, or orange juice, Jean dived into her introductions, the plan for the next few classes, and a rally of reassurances that Amy knew the midwife must have spoken a thousand times before, but somehow seemed to work.
Half an hour later, after everyone had introduced themselves, declared if they were having a boy, girl, or didn’t know, and what their biggest fear was, as well as the thing they were looking forward to the most, Amy felt more comfortable, and much less alone. As every woman there was expecting their first baby; there wasn’t a future mother in the place who wasn’t a heap of anxious excitement.
After teaching them some calming exercises with a gust of exuberance, Jean announced, ‘Right, everyone, that’s all for today. Obviously this is just the introduction session. You all have four to eight weeks left to go, and in that time we’ll go through pain relief techniques, baby care, looking after yourselves once baby has arrived, feeding your child and so on. In the meantime, before we meet here again on Friday, I’d like you all, if you haven’t already designed one, to put together a birth plan and pack your bag ready for the hospital. If you are planning a home birth, still pack a bag – hopefully you won’t need it, but birth isn’t an exact science, and if you have to go into hospital at the eleventh hour, the last thing you want to do is start hunting for clean nightshirts and nappies as the ambulance pulls up on the drive!’
Amy felt her nerves begin to swirl again as Jean walked between her comrades, handing out sheets of paper.
‘These are examples of various birthing plans. They are not the law and the prophets. You’re at liberty to change them to suit you. Remember, this is your baby and your body, which makes it your choice – as far as Mother Nature will allow, of course! There is also a list of everything you’ll need for the hospital printed on the back of the leaflet. If I was you, I’d add “a good book” to the bottom of the list, as there is one heck of a lot of hanging around on b-day, and it can get a bit dull.’
‘Between the blasts of pain, you mean?’ Amy smiled at the comment from the young woman sat on her own in the front row, as she voiced her own thoughts precisely.
Jean laughed. ‘To begin with the moments of pain will be few and far between, and hanging round in a hospital room is truly dull. Clara, I promise I’ll go through all of that with you on Friday.’
The young woman gave Jean a thankful smile, and Amy was relieved at how the midwife had made her reply sound genuine and not patronising.
‘So, tro
ops,’ Jean waved her arms, ‘my phone number is on the top piece of paper I’ve given you. Any worries, you call me. I’ll be here for another twenty minutes if you want to ask me anything in private today, otherwise I look forward to seeing you at the end of the week.’
Leaving Paul chatting to another future father, Amy decided to be brave, and went to talk to Jean.
‘Hi, Amy,’ Jean smiled. ‘How can I help?’
Feeling suddenly shy, Amy almost whispered, ‘It’s probably nothing but, well, I’m getting a lot of indigestion which the usual cures don’t seem to touch, and my stomach seems to be tightening more and more every day. I’m being paranoid, I expect, but, well...’
‘You want to know if that’s normal.’
‘Well, yes.’
‘Oh, I’m getting that as well.’ Amy hadn’t noticed Clara follow her to the front of the room. ‘The indigestion, I mean, although I haven’t had any belly tightening, should I have been?’
Jean nodded kindly. ‘This is exactly why I’m here. There is no such thing as normal in pregnancy. Some of you will get horrific indigestion, some will experience Braxton Hicks tightening, some will get ordinary occasional stomach tightening, and some will get none of the above. It doesn’t mean anything bad is happening.’
Having given her advice for coping with indigestion, Jean sent Clara, who still had two months to go, on her way. ‘Amy, you have only four weeks before you’re due, yes?’
‘Yes.’
‘Does the tightening keep you awake?’
‘Sometimes.’
‘It does sound like Braxton Hicks. It’s not unusual, but if it would put your mind at rest, I can book you in for a check-up tomorrow if you like?’
‘I don’t want to put you to any trouble, especially as I suspect I’m being over anxious.’
‘Not at all. My job is to look after you. That means helping with your private worries as well as your baby. Now then,’ Jean opened her diary, ‘3.30 OK for you?’
‘Perfect, thank you. Sorry to be a pain!’
Jean shook her head. ‘You’re not a pain – in fact, you’re the bravest person here. I’m sure that every almost-mum in this room wanted to ask a question, but you were the only one who dared. So good for you!’
‘I’m really proud of you.’ Echoing Jean’s sentiments, Paul kissed Amy’s check as he delivered her back to her office. ‘I’m so glad you asked Jean for help.’
‘I’ve been driving myself mad worrying about the skin-tightening thing.’
‘You should have said!’
‘Probably, but you only know what I know, which is what it says in the book, and as Jean said, the books are only general guides. They can’t be right for everyone, can they.’
Paul hugged her. ‘Well, just be safe this afternoon, you must be tired. I’ll see you tonight.’
Climbing up the stairs to the Home Hunters office, Amy tried to ignore the feeling of nausea that had started to swim in her stomach alongside the indigestion. Cursing herself for getting into such a nervous state before the class, Amy sat at her desk with a relieved sigh, and not caring that she was at work, kicked off her shoes.
Lauren arrived like magic with a cup of mint tea and a big smile. ‘You alright, boss?’
‘This flipping indigestion is driving me mad.’ Taking the tea, Amy tapped the seat next to her, ‘Come on then, Lauren, let me show you the bits of my job that don’t come with a handbook.’
Lauren frowned. ‘Such as?’
‘Such as which clients need at least two pairs of kid gloves when you’re dealing with them, which ones will always try and wangle a discount out of you that is far greater than we are able to give, and which ones will try and swap two weeks in their Marbella villas for a fortnight in London. Preferably with you in residence wearing a scanty bikini!’
The afternoon passed quickly, and as Amy taught Lauren all the tricks she’d learnt in dealing with the more challenging clients on the Home Hunters books, the heartburn and nausea diminished, leaving her wondering if she needed her appointment with Jean the following day after all.
Chapter Thirty-two
Tuesday 26th July – 3 p.m.
‘Hello there.’
Amy was surprised to see Jack appear by her Home Hunters desk as the clock ticked around to three o’clock.
‘I had some work this side of town, so I thought I’d walk you home. It was your first parenting class today, wasn’t it?’
‘It was, and I am very ready to go home!’ Amy slipped her shoes back on and picked up her bag. ‘Luckily the class wasn’t as scary as I thought it would be. I have a lovely midwife called Jean, who has put my mind at rest about a few things.’
‘That’s great.’ Jack helped lever Amy out of her chair, and with a flirty wave at Lauren which made Amy raise her eyes to heaven and back, he escorted her to the door.
As they hit the fresh air, Amy’s stomach tightened, making her catch her breath for a split second before the sensation passed. Glad that Jack hadn’t noticed, she said, ‘You have news.’ It wasn’t a question, but a statement. She could see that Jack was bursting with something to tell her.
‘I have indeed. I assume Kit told you that Peggy and Scott lost the second Pickwicks?’
‘I was there at the time helping them get ready for the opening. What a nightmare for them! Have they found anywhere new yet? I had to go and see Chris about a difficult client, so couldn’t hang around to see what happened next. I meant to call Peggy and see how she is, but by the time I get home all I’m fit for is crashing out on the sofa. I’m ashamed to say I tend to fall asleep pretty fast. I’ve got hardly any energy left for anything, even phoning my friends.’
Pleased that Kit hadn’t told Amy about his offer to Peggy and Scott yet, Jack filled her in on the plan.
‘I can’t believe Kit didn’t tell me! I can’t believe you didn’t tell me!’ Amy felt put out.
‘Kit probably thought you had enough to worry about, and I haven’t told anyone. I have no idea if they’ll accept my proposition or not.’
‘Fair enough. I guess I’ll have to get used to being out of the loop once the baby is here and takes over my life!’ Amy stopped walking, a fresh sharp pain making her gasp.
Jack paled slightly. ‘You alright?’
‘Just this bloody heartburn. It sort of gets trapped behind my ribs, and there isn’t much room in there right now. I’m fine.’
Looking unconvinced, Jack steadied his pace so they were walking slower. ‘I hate indigestion, must be horrid when your belly is permanently full.’
‘You have no idea! It’s been making me feel rough on and off all afternoon.’
Jack’s eyes narrowed. ‘On and off, you say?’
‘Yes.’ Amy caught his expression. ‘Don’t panic, Jack, I’m not in labour. I have a month to go yet. Apparently this is normal. I’m tired and fed up of being massive though. So, tell me, what else is happening? Sorted things with Rupert yet?’
Remembering his promise to Rupert to keep things between them low-key for now, Jack simply said, ‘He accepted my explanation about Gareth. Even better, Rupert has agreed to set up a website for Megan to advertise her art. They might even do a joint site, so he can sell his photographs as well.’
‘Now that is fabulous.’ Amy took hold of Jack’s arm, more for companionship she told herself, rather than because she was beginning to feel dizzy. ‘Kit did tell me about Megan having a new commission. She was thrilled apparently because although she wasn’t going to have a wage increase as a waitress, she now had this big sum coming in from her art. Who was it from? Do you know?’
‘From Gareth.’
‘Gareth from Kent? That Gareth? Your sort-of-ex Gareth?’
‘The very same.’
‘How do you feel about that? It must be strange to think that Megan will ... ouch!’ Amy gripped Jack’s arm and clutched her bump in shock for a second before carrying on as if nothing had happened, ‘be drawing pictures for the bloke that you left the job
you loved to get away from?’
Jack stared at Amy. ‘Sod Gareth! You said ouch. Pregnant women saying ouch is not normal.’
Amy laughed despite her fast growing nausea. ‘Saying ouch, and a lot more besides, is fairly common at certain stages of pregnancy.’
‘Exactly! At one very certain stage!’
‘Oh Jack, stop overreacting.’ Trying to ignore her fast-growing anxiety, Amy said, ‘I’m fine.’
‘Fine?’
‘Well, I’m a bit queasy. Trust me to get sickness at the end of pregnancy as well as the beginning!’
‘At least you didn’t get it all the way through. My sister threw up for the whole nine months. It was horrible.’
‘I bet it was! Can we talk about something else? I’m sure I’m just really tired.’
Unconvinced, Jack agreed, ‘Well, one of the things I was going to tell you about was the opening menus I’ve designed for my bistro. I’m pleased with them, but a bit nervous about them as well. It’s so important to get the first menu right. Sets the tone of the place and all that.’
Amy listened as Jack began to list all the delicious sounding meals he was planning. His exuberance and excitement at what lay ahead for his new life was contagious. ‘I can’t believe we’re starting such major new ventures in our lives at the same time. Isn’t it amazing how far we’ve come!’
Jack smiled. ‘It is. It’s ...’ He stopped talking as he caught the expression, ‘are you sure you’re alright?’
Amy’s face had become pallid. ‘I feel a bit odd, actually. I’ve gone all dizzy. Sit down. Must sit down.’
Trying to stay calm, Jack lowered his friend onto a blessedly handy bench at the side of the path. ‘I’m going to call Paul.’
‘Thanks.’ Amy began to breathe harder. ‘Oh, God ... Jack, I think ... but it can’t be coming now. It just can’t! There is so long to go ... aww, hell’s teeth!’
‘Damn, Paul isn’t answering.’
