Who Needs Men Anyway?

by Victoria Cooke

  I gestured for her to come in and she entered after me, taking in the room as she did before clearing her throat. ‘Well, this is . . . delightful.’ She forced a terse smile.

  She hated it. I folded my arms protectively across my stomach in case somehow she could see the baby kick and want in on the private moment I’d just shared with Andrew.

  ‘I’ll cut to the chase. That little flyer you sent . . .’ I furrowed my brow – it was supposedly anonymous. Miraculously, she picked up on my expression and changed tack. ‘I received a flyer anyway. In an unmarked envelope. It was like a promotional flier for Emsworth, Haiden & Haiden Law but it had been tampered with.’ She paused to read my expression again but I held the confused eyebrow furrow like I was a feature in Madame Tussauds. It was strange because just beneath the surface, within my muscle tissue, was humour just itching to break out. I caught my reflection in the stainless steel splashback. Confusion was holding up well. She drew a breath, obviously dissatisfied that I appeared to know nothing about it. ‘I know what James did to you, Charlotte, and I wanted to say, I’m sorry.’

  My words caught in my throat. I wasn’t expecting an apology – a tirade of abuse or one hundred and one reasons to go back to her precious son perhaps but not an apology. It threw me a little. ‘Oh.’

  ‘I didn’t have him marked as the sort who’d have an affair and quite frankly I’m furious with him.’ She shook her head. ‘So you weren’t aware of any leaflet?’ I probably should have just come clean but I couldn’t be bothered with a lecture about decorum.

  ‘No, but to be fair, of all those office women there was bound to be one with a grudge.’ I think I sounded convincing.

  ‘I suppose so, and any one of the office staff could have sent it. I’ve always been on the company Christmas card list after the initial investment I put in to help them get started.’ I’d forgotten she’d helped set the practice up. ‘Anyway, the fact is, I don’t blame you for leaving him and I wanted you to know I’d like to help you out.’

  She reached into her handbag and pulled out an envelope, which she placed on the kitchen counter. ‘I know that James wasn’t just deceiving you, he also betrayed the trust of his business partners and the fact I supported him financially when he went into business with the Haiden brothers makes me all the more cross at what he did. Ambition I love, but greed I despise. That’s a little something for you and the baby and don’t offend me by trying to give it back. James has lost everything and won’t be supporting you for a while and that’s entirely his fault. I’d kept this aside for him but he can sort himself out.’ She clenched her jaw. ‘I would have come sooner but I’ve had a lot to sort out thanks to James. Anyway, I wanted you to know I’m happy to help you out with her if you need me to and this is just a start.’ She tapped a well-manicured fingernail on the envelope.

  I softened to her a little. My parents were gallivanting; James’s father was dead. She was the only grandparent available and for all her faults she was trying. ‘Thank you, Frances, I’m sure I’ll need all the help I can get.’ She smiled a proper smile – it was her ‘James is wonderful’ smile and I’d received the baton.

  ‘I appreciate it, Charlotte. I know we haven’t been close and perhaps I’m to blame.’ Perhaps? ‘But James has proven me wrong about himself and you seem to be trying your best. That’s something I respect.’

  She declined the offer of a coffee and left a short while after. I took the envelope and sat on the sofa gorging myself on crisps. It was a cheque, no note or anything, just a cheque, for a sizeable sum – enough to live off for a couple of years probably, or enough to do something meaningful with. Kate’s determination to set up a business had motivated me. I was sure there was some kind of business that would suit me, I just didn’t know what.

  I’d already spent time planning and plotting my future, trying to establish where my skills were, and the money would certainly help. I’d contemplated going back to accountancy work but I’d never really enjoyed it all that much and wanted to do something more creative. My real strengths were knowing what looked good and organising people and things. I almost baulked when Megan suggested it but the idea of being a wedding planner grew on me over the course of a few days. I liked clothes and accessories, I had an eye for interiors, and I wasn’t afraid of telling people what to do – and despite everything, I was still a believer in marriage.

  With Kate’s help for promotion, I’d put together some literature advertising my services as the best wedding planner in Cheshire. Despite being a little bit (a lot) pregnant, I felt up to the job and my father always said ‘there’s no time like the present’ so I had to just get out there. If you counted my own, I had a one hundred per cent track record of planning amazing weddings. I offered no guarantees that the marriage would last though – that was down to the bride and groom.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  WhatsApp was going crazy. I was seriously thinking about my business and what I needed to do but the messages kept coming. Nonsense mostly but I couldn’t ignore them.

  Kate: I have my first client – small florist’s wants some leaflets designing.

  Sam: Going to put tits on those too :=)

  Megan: Sam!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

  Kate: There were no visible tits on the flyer I sent Frances – anyway, aren’t you two sat right next to each other???

  Sam: OUCH!!! She elbowed me!

  Kate: Sam, you have a point – sex sells. Maybe some boobs on the flyer would attract attention!

  Megan: I hoped you had more class, Kate!

  Sam: What’s this florist called again? ;)

  Sam: OUCH!!! MEGAN . . . I’M A GARDENER! IT’S MY JOB TO KNOW!

  Megan: Don’t shout!

  Kate: Get a room!

  Me: I have something to announce . . .

  Sam: It’s twins?

  Kate: She’s big enough . . .

  Megan: ???

  Me: I’m going to start up a wedding planning business . . .

  Kate: typing

  Sam: typing

  Megan: typing

  There was a pause in the incessant messaging. I wasn’t sure what exactly that meant but it wasn’t going to stop me. I continued planning, making a ‘things to do’ list. I was going to need social media, a website, flyers, and other bits and bobs but once I had a client, the hard part would be done. My phone buzzed again, and I picked it up thinking they’d finally replied. My heart thumped.

  A friend of mine is getting rid of some nearly new baby stuff. They’ve said it’s going to charity if nobody wants it so I thought I’d see if you were interested? A x

  I only had eight weeks left and had intended to go shopping for things that weekend but this was better – it would save me some money and I’d get to see Andrew.

  That would be great – thanks. C x

  My phone shrilled again. It was WhatsApp.

  Megan: That’s great – glad you listened. You’ll be great. xx

  Sam: Are weddings a good idea? Do you really want to encourage marriage???

  Megan: Are you anti weddings, Sam???

  Sam: STOP ELBOWING ME!!!

  Kate: I can sort your marketing out. x

  Me: Megan and Sam – you’re sat next to each other! Kate, thank you xx

  Me: Megan, forgot to say. Antenatal class is Friday night if you can still make it?

  Kate: Friday nights have taken a turn . . .

  Megan: Definitely xxxxx

  Me: Thank you xxx

  My phone buzzed again. ‘Jesus!’ I reached down for it, all set to mute WhatsApp but it was a text:

  Great, when can I bring it round? Friday straight from school would be good . . . A x

  A flicker flashed across my chest. I’d still make the class.

  Yes, that works. C x

  Perfect – see you then. A x

  And then I turned my phone off.

  ***

  Friday came and I was a bag of butterflies. I changed my outfit twice – God knows why. Maternity
wear was hardly flattering at its best. Not on me at least. The women in the pictures advertising the clothes were a picture of health and beauty with neat little bumps. I’d grown everywhere and had dry, blotchy skin on my face. Hardly glowing, still, my daughter was in there and as long as she was okay, I’d cope with the temporary side effects. There was a knock at the door and my heart started pounding. Checking myself in the mirror on the way past, I straightened my dress before pausing at the door to take a breath.

  ‘Hello, Andrew.’

  My breath caught when I saw him. His piercing eyes hit me first but it wasn’t just those that took my breath away. Under one arm he had a baby bath filled with baby paraphernalia: baby grows, nappies, and a few toys. Under the other was a gorgeous, soft, white rabbit cuddly toy with big floppy ears. Something about this rugged man carrying such pure items made my heart melt.

  As I was about to beckon him in, a lady who I recognised as my next-door-but-one neighbour waved from the bottom of my driveway.

  ‘I’m Annie. You must be the new neighbours,’ she said, giving a smile.

  ‘Hi, Annie, lovely to meet you. I’m Charlotte.’ Andrew was smiling at Annie too. ‘And this is Andrew,’ I added. It seemed odd to leave him out of the introductions when he was stood right there.

  ‘Lovely to meet you too. Welcome to the street and congratulations both of you!’ She pointed to Andrew’s swag and continued on her way. Heat flushed my cheeks.

  ‘Gosh, I didn’t mean to give her the wrong impression,’ I said. Andrew wore a look of amusement. ‘Come in anyway.’

  ‘I don’t mind.’ He smirked as he crossed the threshold. ‘This is nice – it feels homely,’ he said, taking in the small space.

  ‘I like it.’ I smiled. ‘Can I get you a drink?’

  He placed the bath and rabbit down on the kitchen counter. ‘I’d love a coffee please.’

  ‘No problem. So what is it you’ve brought?’ I’d already started rifling through the bath – there were half packs of wipes and nappies and things, some brand-new BabyGros and muslins and a few toys.

  ‘It’s all stuff my friends didn’t use with their newborn. He was big and didn’t fit in the tiny stuff for long and it’s all neutral, as they didn’t know what they were having. Will it come in handy?’

  ‘Definitely, it’s great, thank you.’ I filled the kettle and put it on to boil. ‘I haven’t got anything like this yet, but I’m going to order a Moses basket and cot this week.’

  ‘I got you this too.’ He reached inside one of the nappy boxes and pulled out a DVD. I took it from him and smiled.

  ‘What to Expect When You’re Expecting.’

  ‘I’ve, er, no idea if it’s any good,’ he said. I gave him a raised-eyebrow response. ‘Okay, okay, yes. I did see this one. No explosions or car chases though so it’s a bit boring really. Sorry, I’ll take it back.’ He put a hand on the DVD and tried to take it back, joking. I let go and folded my arms. ‘Fine, it’s hilarious!’

  I laughed. ‘I already know you’re a sucker for a romcom. Don’t worry, I won’t tell your friends.’ I winked. ‘Thank you though, I’m spending next week sorting out the nursery so I’ll probably need something fun to collapse on the sofa to.’

  ‘Well if there’s anything I can do, just give me a shout. I can help paint the nursery or assemble the cot, probably, if there are instructions.’

  I smiled and handed him his coffee. My hand brushed his as I did.

  ‘I’ll take you up on that.’ My phone buzzed. ‘Sorry, just a sec.’ I left him sat at the breakfast bar and grabbed my phone off the coffee table.

  Charlotte, I’m so sorry. My client has just dropped a 10kg kettlebell on her foot!!! Driving her to A and E as we speak. I’m not going to make the antenatal class. I’m so sorry – can we reschedule? Xxx

  I groaned. No, I couldn’t bloody reschedule. I’d pre-paid for the session.

  ‘What’s up? Not another holy water and sage situation is it?’ Andrew asked.

  ‘No, not this time. Megan, my birthing partner is supposed to be going to antenatal classes with me tonight but she’s had to cancel. I’m sure people go on their own all the time.’ I tried to shrug it off, even though the thought horrified me so much I contemplated taking Frances up on her offer of help and asking if she’d go with me.

  ‘I’ll come with you.’

  My eyes shot up, meeting his. ‘No. No way, that’s too much to ask of you. You’ve done so much already.’ I gestured to the baby bath.

  ‘It’s fine – I’ve no plans. I’m happy to help.’

  I chewed down on my lip. Extra time with Andrew was a bonus, but extra time with Andrew whilst pretending to squeeze out a baby wasn’t so appealing. Neither was going alone. ‘Are you sure?’ I looked up at him from beneath my eyelashes. ‘It won’t be pretty.’

  We’d chatted for so long, it was six-forty before I’d checked the time and I’d had to run upstairs and change into a T-shirt and my loose-fitting pregnancy pants that were a bit like yoga pants with ‘growing room’.

  ‘I can’t believe we’re going to be late after just sitting there,’ I said as we were leaving.

  ‘Don’t worry, in between watching romcoms, I’m partial to the odd Fast and Furious film. We’ll make it.’

  We made it, just, and he didn’t speed. I was impressed. As we walked inside, the room was already filled with couples sat on mats. The instructor smiled as we hovered in the doorway. ‘Please, come in and take a mat. There’s a space over there.’ Fortunately, the space she’d pointed out was near the back. Andrew picked up a mat and we weaved between the couples to reach our spot.

  There was lots of practical information about planning ahead, what to pack for the hospital and so on, and then we were on to labour. I shuffled uncomfortably, feeling terrible for Andrew. It must have been so dull for him. I glanced at him every now and then but he was listening so intently that he didn’t seem to notice. Maybe he was okay after all.

  ‘So, ladies, if you’d like to sit in front of your partner, we’re going to practise breathing techniques.’

  I looked awkwardly at Andrew, who’d already spun around and was sat with his arms open. I smiled shyly and shuffled towards him. The instructor started teaching us a technique and whilst I sat there wondering how on earth deep breaths would help, Andrew pressed his mouth to my ear, sending a shiver down my spine. ‘If you can’t breathe without lessons, should you really be having a baby?’ I snorted and a few people turned to look at me.

  Then we were on to massage, and as Andrew massaged my shoulders I whispered ‘sorry’. It should have been Megan learning to do that. It was almost as if I’d wasted my money because she’d learned nothing but, guiltily, I enjoyed every minute.

  By the end of the session, I did feel a little bit more confident. Megan would just have to watch the NHS antenatal videos on YouTube. As I sat in Andrew’s car, I could still feel the warmth of his hands in all the places he’d touched: my tummy, my arms, and my shoulders. ‘Thank you for coming – it would have been unbearable on my own,’ I said as he turned the ignition.

  ‘My pleasure,’ he said cheerfully.

  ‘It must have been so boring for you though. I’ll have to take you for a coffee sometime to thank you.’ I said it breezily but noticed a slight clench in his jaw when I spoke. Maybe he was fed up of my company.

  ‘I never got to do that with Beth,’ he said, jolting me.

  ‘Oh, of course not. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you,’ I said softly and my stomach almost cramped with pain. The orange glow from the streetlights reflected off his watery eyes as he stared straight down the road ahead.

  ‘No, don’t be sorry. I didn’t mean it in a bad way, I just meant that it was probably something we would have done if cancer didn’t steal our future away.’

  My eyes burnt and an involuntary sniff escaped. We both sat in silence awhile, me with nothing soothing to say, and him probably thinking of what should have been. I wondered if while I’d
been enjoying the feel of his touch, he was resenting the fact I wasn’t Beth.

  ‘I’m glad I came,’ he said eventually. ‘It was nice to share that with someone and I don’t know if I’d have had the chance otherwise.’

  I didn’t reply but my chest tightened and I hated myself for not having anything comforting to say. ‘What was she like? Beth?’ I said eventually. I was relieved to see his mouth lift up at the corner.

  ‘She was fun, never took life too seriously. She was a firm believer in the “you only live once” mantra and in some ways, after she’d gone, I wondered if she’d always known she would die young.’

  ‘She sounds perfect.’

  ‘She was.’

  His hand was resting on the gear stick and I placed mine on top, just for a moment. He turned his attention from the road for a moment to smile.

  When we pulled up outside my house, the road was quiet and still. ‘Thank you again for coming,’ I said and reached for the handle.

  His lips parted like he was about to say something but his phone buzzed in the cup holder and cast a bright unpleasant light across us both. I didn’t mean to but I glanced at the screen, out of habit. It was from ‘Luce mobile’. There was a thud in my chest.

  Where the hell are you? Xxx

  He glanced at it too before turning to me. ‘Er, it was nothing. I’m glad I could help,’ he said, and I climbed out. Deflated. I could’ve sworn he was about to say something else.

  ***

  Megan had been at my house since four o’clock, badgering about going out for a meal.

  ‘Plenty of divorcees let their friends throw them a “just divorced” party once their divorces are final. You can buy a “just divorced” sash and a black veil and everything.’ She’d been on at me for well over an hour.

  ‘That’s great, Megan, but I don’t want that. I’d barely acknowledged the divorce other than checking the letter to make sure my marriage was definitely over. ‘I wish I hadn’t put it on the WhatsApp group,’ I huffed, just as there was a knock on the door. I glared at Megan, knowing full well who it was.