Whitehall Baby: A Surprise Pregnancy, Fake Relationship Romantic Comedy Perfect for Chick Lit Fans

by Laura Barnard

  ‘She did say they divorced.’

  He grimaces. ‘Yes, but we’re not talking a bog-standard divorce here. I’m talking police being called on several occasions. Finding them intoxicated and screaming at each other.’

  Shit. Poor Charlotte. It’s hard to imagine that she’s gone through that. She seems so well rounded. I think of a little Charlotte being brought up around such vicious rows.

  That means they’ll be police records. This won’t look good if it gets out.

  ‘But,’ he continues, ‘I have to say that for a woman who grew up in such a hostile environment she’s done very well for herself. A degree, a steady job. No debt.’

  ‘Thanks. I appreciate you being so thorough.’

  Well, this has left me in a conundrum. I still have time to discuss this with her, the news hasn’t leaked to the press, yet. They normally request a comment first. I’m sure they’ll have lots of questions the nosy bastards. Like my private life has anything to do with how I do my job. Still, I’m going to have to think about how I can broach this with her. It’s bound to come up at some point.

  She’s already so down after meeting my parents, I can’t land this on her too.

  No, I’ll do something nice instead. I buzz through to my PA Rachel.

  ‘Rachel, can you please find me the interior decorator I used for the flat? I have another job for her.’

  10

  Thursday 1st October

  Charlotte – 24 Weeks Pregnant

  Arthur has been in and out of my office all day and I don’t know what’s happened to me, but I have the major horn. His broad shoulders, strong jaw, the luscious hair with the curl to it. That man is sex on legs. I know I’ve been trying to uncomplicate things by not having sex with him, but damn, why does he have to be such a big piece of man candy?

  And he’s so powerful. It just oozes out of every pore. So serious, with that frown that brings his eyebrows together and wrinkles his forehead. He’s going to have a huge Botox bill in a few years. He takes his work so seriously. Even that turns me on.

  Every time he looks my way and smiles, it’s as if we share a secret. I mean, I know we share a baby, but this is something more. Something that makes me feel connected to him and makes me want to purr deep down in my belly like a pussy cat.

  I’ve found myself squeezing my thighs together to try and get some sort of small release. At one point I even considered going into the bathroom just so I could touch myself. Can you even imagine?! In a government building! I’m on the crazy train. Toot toot!

  When I get home I can’t help but punish myself further by watching Fifty Shades of Grey. Damn that Jamie Dornan is hot. The things I’d do to him. Not that he has a patch on Arthur.

  He arrives home just as the film is finishing. He gives me that secret smile again and I swear, my knickers set fire. Before I know what I’m doing I stand up, walk over to him, and use his belt to pull him towards me.

  His eyes widen in shock. I revel in having the upper hand in the situation for once. Everything else in my life feels so out of control. This is the one thing I know. Him and me equals hot sex.

  I keep eye contact as I undo his belt, then his top button and zipper. I slide my hand in to find him already hard as rock. There he is. The penis with the killer sperm.

  His eyes are so unsure, flitting from one side to the other. I feel strong and powerful, so I drop to my knees and drag his trousers and boxer shorts down to his ankles. I take him in my mouth, too eager to go slow.

  ‘Jesus, Charlotte,’ he hisses, his thighs tensing under my hands.

  Feeling encouraged I suck harder, allowing him further down my throat. Sure, it’s hard to breathe through my nose and my knees are already aching like hell but I persist. Ultimately I want to make him happy. That and I’m getting as much from this as he is. I don’t know what’s come over me, but I need this. Need to forget I’m pregnant and enjoy myself. Feel desired.

  After several minutes I’ve started to lose momentum. I’m desperate for him to finish. All enthusiasm has long fallen behind the crushing fatigue and jaw ache. I’m just about to stop when he speaks.

  ‘Yes, Charlotte. I’m so close. So close.’

  Well okay. If he’s that close I can’t stop now; I don’t want to be cruel. I persevere like the total champ that I am. That is until I start to feel lightheaded, a bit dizzy.

  The next thing I know I’m on the floor. I look around. What the hell happened? I look up to see Arthur running around with his limp cock flapping about.

  ‘Oh my god, you’re awake,’ he says when he spots me. ‘Where’s the book?’

  ‘The book?’ I repeat, still feeling dazed.

  ‘The book! The BOOK! Your pregnancy book thing! With the numbers to call!’

  I try to sit up, but I still feel wobbly. ‘Oh. Um… in my bag?’

  He runs to get it, then he’s back with me, helping me to sit up. I feel so weak and wiped out.

  ‘How are you feeling?’ He checks over my face, cupping my cheeks in his giant hands.

  ‘A bit dizzy, but okay.’ More embarrassed than anything.

  He punches in the number on his phone, hands it over to me and then goes to get a glass of water.

  ‘Hello, maternity ward,’ a cheery female voice answers.

  ‘Um, hi. I think I just passed out?’ I mean, I still don’t know for sure what happened. My head is all over the place.

  ‘Okay and how many weeks pregnant are you?’ she enquires.

  ‘I’m twenty-four weeks.’

  God, I’m still so far away from delivery. What if I’ve done something to hurt the baby? I’ll never forgive myself. All because I was bloody horny.

  ‘Okay and what were you doing right before you fainted?’

  Arthur hands me a glass of water.

  ‘Umm…’ I look to Arthur in wide eyed panic. I have to lie. There’s no way I’m telling her the truth. ‘I was just… getting up from the sofa.’

  ‘Really?’

  Damn, she doesn’t sound convinced.

  ‘Because fainting just from standing is very rare. Especially this early on in the pregnancy.’

  She’s got me there.

  ‘Tell her the truth,’ Arthur whispers with an encouraging nod. ‘It might be important.’

  How the hell would it be relevant?

  I sigh, already feeling my cheeks heat. ‘Okay, I was actually on my knees at the time.’

  ‘Okay and what were you doing on your knees?’

  What do you bloody think I was doing? Nosy bitch.

  ‘Um… I was…’

  ‘Yes?’ She encourages. ‘Please rest assured that anything you tell me is to be kept strictly confidential. I’m not here to judge.’

  ‘Okay.’ I take a deep breath. ‘I was giving my…’ God, how do I describe Arthur? He’s not my boyfriend. ‘The father of my child a… a blow job.’

  Arthur covers his face with his hands. Only I could get myself into this mess.

  Silence greets me on the other end of the phone. Is she still there? Maybe she’s passed out from shock.

  ‘Hello?’

  ‘Yes.’ She clears her throat. ‘Sorry, I’m here.’ It’s clear in her voice she’s trying not to let a giggle escape. Judgy bitch lied. ‘Have you felt the baby move since?’

  I nod even though she can’t see me. ’It’s moving right now.’

  Arthur puts his hands on my stomach and smiles back in surprised wonder when he feels it.

  ‘Okay that’s good. Keep on counting your kicks and if you could please drop in a urine sample to your GP tomorrow morning. We’ll also send you for blood tests and an ECG, just to be safe. But between me and you I think it’s just a case of poor circulation mixed with not enough oxygen.’ Her tone is amused.

  I’m sure all the nurses will have a good laugh tonight. Glad to be of service to the NHS.

  I thank her even though that was totally humiliating and hang up.

  ‘Jesus, Charlotte. You nearly gave me a
heart attack.’ His eyes are wild and jittery. He was genuinely scared. He really does care for this baby. That’s good to know.

  ‘I’m the one that passed out. Don’t make it out like I did it deliberately.’ I don’t know why I’m sounding so bitchy.

  He frowns. ‘I’m not. I just…’

  ‘You just what?’ I ask, already dreading the answer.

  He takes my hand, a sad smile on his lips. ‘I think this is a sign that we should stop all sexual involvement.’

  ‘Involvement?’ God, this man is cold. Just when I think he’s starting to show some emotion he goes and says that. I had the man’s dick in my mouth less than ten minutes ago.

  He nods, all matter of fact.

  ‘It’s safer all round. Plus you were right before. We shouldn’t make things more complicated than they need to be. This baby is going to be hard enough. We don’t want to add any complications to that.’

  ‘Oh. Yeah. Of course.’

  And just like that my heart which had soared so high, plummets back down to earth.

  Friday 2nd October

  Arthur

  Well last night was a weird one. I have no idea what came over her to suddenly be so randy, but I can’t say I wasn’t having the time of my life. Until she passed out of course.

  The thoughts that were racing through my head had me feeling sick to the stomach. Would she be okay? Was the baby alright? What if she miscarried?

  It made me realise how invested in this baby I really am. A short while ago I couldn’t imagine myself with kids and now the thought of losing one has me gasping for breath, my chest tightening.

  It scares me that it’s left me so vulnerable. Her pregnancy is completely out of my control and that makes me feel uneasy. It’s not that I don’t trust her. I know she’d never do something to intentionally harm her or the baby, but something could happen, no fault of her own.

  Babies are so small and helpless. Then the thought that I might be worrying about this kid for the rest of my life jumps into my brain. Dammit. I’m not sure I can cope with that level of anxiety.

  ‘There’s really no need for me to have the day off,’ Charlotte whines the next morning as she eats her croissant with fruit that I insisted upon.

  ‘I don’t care. It’s happening. You’re to lay on that sofa and relax. Understood?’

  She rolls her eyes but I can see the slightest hint of a smile.

  ‘I still need to drop in my urine sample.’ She’s so cute how she goes red at just the word urine. How she’s going to feel giving birth in front of me I don’t know.

  ‘I’ll drop it in for you,’ I offer. Any excuse for her to try and leave the flat.

  ‘Are you sure?’ She squirms uncomfortably. When is she going to realise she’s not a burden to me?

  I roll my own eyes. ‘Charlotte, would you stop being so immature and give me your urine.’ A sentence I never thought I’d say.

  She snorts a laugh. ‘Okay.’

  She sighs but goes to the bathroom and emerges a few minutes later with a tiny plastic container of urine.

  ‘Have fun,’ she says as she hands it over.

  I put it into my trouser pocket, wait with raised eyebrows until she settles back down onto the sofa and then leave for the clinic. I’m almost there when I feel a sort of wetness. I look down and follow it to my pocket. Shit.

  I take out the pee bottle and peer at the lid. The stupid woman hasn’t done up the bottle properly. Her pee has leaked all over me! Dammit. I don’t have time to walk home before my next meeting. I toss the sample into a nearby bin and power walk the rest of the way.

  Damn that Charlotte. I swear she’ll be the death of me.

  I’ve barely walked in when Roger approaches me, face like thunder.

  ‘That PA you recommended to me has called in sick. So thanks for that.’

  I grit my teeth. The idiot has no idea that she’s pregnant with my baby and I’m the one that forced her to stay home.

  ‘I don’t have time for this Roger.’ I turn and walk away before I pummel him in the face.

  ‘Can anyone smell wee?’ I hear him ask in the distance.

  Yep. The absolute death of me.

  Monday 5th October

  Charlotte – 25 Weeks Pregnant

  After what I’m referring to as ‘pee gate’ happened Arthur hasn’t been able to look at me the same again. To say he was mad would be the understatement of the year. Oh well, it served him right for being so bossy and demanding I take the day off.

  His PA had to run out and buy emergency trousers, so he was late for his meeting and then apparently they kept asking if anyone could smell pee. He was mortified but I couldn’t stop laughing, even if I never realised my wee smells. I’m not sure he’s ever going to forgive me.

  Roger’s had the arse with me since. He’s a bloody psycho. One minute he’s saying I haven’t given him some documents, only to find them ten minutes later. I’m walking on constant eggshells. It’s messing with my head.

  When I get home from work the following week there’s the unmistakable smell of another woman’s perfume. It’s pretty pungent, a tangy smell of florals mixed with spice.

  My stomach recoils at the idea of someone else being in what’s supposed to be my home. Why would a woman be here?

  I go into the bedroom to see if anything is out of place. Nope. All seems fine here. I open the wardrobe and all of my clothes have been organised by colour like in those fancy celeb’s wardrobes. He must have paid someone to come and organise me. All my handbags are lined up prettily. With no room to unpack, I’ve been living from suitcases since I officially moved in. I didn’t feel right taking his things out to make space for my own.

  Bless him to think to do this. That must be it. He knows being unorganised was driving me mad. I wonder where he’s put half his clothes.

  I call him and he picks up after three rings.

  ‘Hi.’

  ‘Hi, thanks for getting my stuff put away.’

  ‘One less thing for you to worry about.’

  I smile, imagining the cocky smile which I’m sure is on his face right now.

  ‘Did you pay someone specially to do it?’ I need to know where this perfume came from. My unsettled stomach and irrational mind is telling me to be worried.

  ‘No. Just our regular cleaner.’

  I love how he says ‘our’ regular cleaner. Like I really live here. Like I’m really part of his life.

  But then… surely I’d have smelt the cleaner before if she wore perfume that strong? Or maybe it’s just the pregnancy making my sense of smell more intense? I’m sure I’ve heard that happens.

  Either way I’m sure he’s had a woman other than our cleaner here. And that makes me nervous. Far more nervous than I’m comfortable with.

  Arthur

  ‘We have a problem,’ Sally my PR Officer says, barging into my office.

  This must be bad. She’d never normally be so rude.

  ‘What is it?’ I snap, turning away from my computer.

  She chews on her bottom lip. ‘We’ve just had a national newspaper contact us and ask for a comment.’

  I frown. Oh god. Time has run out. It’s happening.

  ‘In regard to what story?’ I ask, playing for time.

  ‘In regard to you getting one of your employees pregnant.’ She raises her eyebrows at me.

  ‘Ah.’

  Shit.

  Her eyebrows shoot up to her hair line. ‘Please tell me this isn’t true?’ she pleads

  ‘Well… she wasn’t my employee when I got her pregnant.’

  God, I hate having to discuss my private life with her. This is one reason why I don’t date. There’s always the risk of someone selling a story on me. The press can always sniff out a scandal and despite how far we’ve come in this day and age, an unexpected pregnancy for someone in my position is still bad for the government’s image. It has people wondering. If I can’t organise my personal life, what chance do I have at doing my job rig
ht? Even though I am more than bloody capable.

  I live and breathe this job and have been a civil servant since university. Not that they’ll write any of that of course. They only care about scandalous headlines and selling papers.

  ‘Shit.’ She sits down on a chair across from my desk, pulling her hair away from her face. ‘But now she works here?’ she asks, desperate for me to elaborate.

  I nod. ‘She’s Roger Fielding’s PA. Nothing to do with me at all.’

  She sighs. ‘We both know that’s not how it’ll be seen.’

  ‘I know.’ I stare out of the window. I knew it was coming, but I still feel sick about it.

  ‘Are you at least engaged to be married?’ Her face brightens up at the prospect. ‘Or did you marry in secret?’

  I shake my head. ‘I tried to talk about marriage, but she doesn’t want to marry just for my image.’

  She rolls her eyes. ‘Ugh, trust you to impregnate a hopeless romantic.’

  I bristle at her discussing Charlotte. She’s not just some idiot, she has her own brain and passionate ideas.

  ‘Well, you’ll have to convince her,’ she insists, crossing her arms over her chest.

  I scoff. She’s clearly never met Charlotte. ‘I can’t just force her.’

  ‘I didn’t say force, I said convince. This will look a hell of a lot better if we come back tomorrow and say that you’re happily engaged.’

  I sigh, scrubbing my hands over my face. ‘I mean… I can try again.’

  ‘Marvellous.’ She stands, making me think the conversation has ended until she adds, ‘You know the PM will much prefer it this way. The less scandal we have, the better.’

  I nod, even though I’m pissed. How many MP’s have been found cheating on their wives and forced to resign? That’s a real scandal, not innocently knocking a woman up.

  Guess I have some grovelling to do tonight.

  11

  Charlotte

  I might have called Eloise and cried hysterically down the phone about smelling the perfume. I’m sure she was terrified. These damn hormones are seriously changing who I am as a person. That’s what scares me most.