Who Needs Men Anyway?

by Victoria Cooke

  ‘Come in.’ I sighed at Kate and Sam when I’d opened the door.

  ‘Happy divorce day!’ they sang in unison.

  ‘Here,’ Kate said handing me a black ‘just divorced’ badge. ‘Put this on. We’re taking you out for dinner. It’s booked and we’ll drag you there if we have to.’

  Despite their enthusiasm, I was feeling tired. I don’t know if it was because I was in the later stages of my pregnancy or because I was emotionally drained after the ups and downs with Andrew. I’d managed to convince myself any spark I’d felt was all in my head. That I’d built up a fantasy because he was so wonderful, kind, and handsome. You couldn’t blame me really. The things I felt when he touched me, I’d thought he felt too but that was silly. Of course he hadn’t. I’d mutated his kindness in my head. It was one-sided and I blamed hormones. The rational part of my brain, fortunately, came back to save me and whoever ‘Luce’ was, probably deserved him more than I did.

  I eventually managed to get ready with all the excitement of a vegan in McDonald’s.

  ‘You look . . . nice,’ Megan said as I sloped down the stairs in maternity jeans and a blouse resembling a blue whale. My un-styled hair hung around my shoulders shapelessly and my face was all potato-like. At least Kate stayed silent.

  Eight months ago, I’d never have gone out like that. I’d have been so worried about what people would think. Did I look fat? Could you see my roots? Why am I wearing something that looks like a tent? But those things didn’t seem important.

  I’d come to realise that I couldn’t control everything. That much was obvious, looking at how my life had changed. But strangely, it didn’t seem to matter.

  As my tummy grew, so did my love for the little body inside of my own. It felt enough, and I knew that once the baby arrived, I’d love her unconditionally in a bubble so thick, no other love could penetrate it anyway. I would be okay. We would be enough.

  I felt my daughter kick as if she were telling me that we would be okay too. I placed my hand on my belly. It’s going to be me and you, kid.

  ‘I’m ready. Let’s go.’

  The dinner was pleasant enough but my mind wasn’t in it until Kate perked up, clanging her spoon on her Prosecco flute.

  ‘I’ve got an announcement to make.’ She waited for silence before continuing. ‘As you know, I’ve been a bit hard on poor Carl recently because quite frankly I’ve had nothing better to focus on. Now I’m in the throes of working on my own business, I realise just how busy Carl must be. I was a cow basically. So, the other night, I asked Carl if we could start again, and renew our vows.’ She smiled and turned to me. ‘Charlotte, will you plan our ceremony?’

  There were coos of congratulations and I realised my hand was clasped over my mouth.

  ‘Kate, I’d love to,’ I said, tearing up. ‘My first client.’ I smiled, standing up to hug her.

  ***

  Over the course of the following week, Andrew texted me twice but I hadn’t replied. It would be better to just let him and ‘Luce’ get on with life. I’d busied myself with the house, the nursery, and I’d even started planning Kate’s ceremony. The baby bath still sat on the kitchen worktop so I carried it upstairs to the nursery where I unpacked the items and put them away neatly. I had a cute little pink, cotton hanging shelf for nappies and emptied them out of the packaging.

  As I folded the empty cardboard box, something fell out onto the floor. It looked like a credit card or something. Bending down wasn’t easy. I’d resorted to slip-on shoes even – it was ridiculous. I put my legs in a wide squat position and lowered, taking deep breaths and trying to avoid panting. I scrambled around on the floor, my fingertips managing to brush against it but not pick it up. I widened my legs further and went down again. Pressure was everywhere in my body but I managed to pick up the card.

  Straightening up, I was out of breath and burst out laughing. It was funny – all those personal training sessions, feeling so smug about my toned physique. Pregnancy isn’t pretty. Why the hell did I bother with all that bullshit? I was still laughing until tears rolled down my face when I looked at the card. It wiped the smile off my face immediately. It was Andrew’s gym card.

  I grabbed a packet of salt and vinegar crisps and paced the ground floor from the front door, past the kitchen and sofa, to the patio doors and back. I could just bin it. I paced again. I should be nice and give it back – he’s done nothing wrong. I paced again. I could post it to his school. I was still pacing. Crisps did not have the same effect as wine but they were bloody delicious. I couldn’t post it to his school – that would be odd. I had to remind myself that, in Andrew’s eyes, I was still his friend. A friend would text their friend to let them know they’d left something behind. They definitely would. I grabbed my phone before I had time to change my mind.

  Just putting baby things away and found your gym card in the nappy box.

  I pressed send and it was done. I opened another packet of crisps and stared at my phone until two empty packets sat on the coffee table. He hadn’t texted back.

  I woke the following morning early and freezing cold on the sofa. Heaving myself up I stretched my arms, remembering not to stretch my tummy muscles out even though they desperately needed it.

  I’d made a decaf coffee and some toast before I glanced at my phone. Some kind of feeling dashed about my stomach when I saw who it was from, but I refused to let it be excitement.

  I wondered where that went. Can I pick it up? A x

  That meant I’d see him. Unless I left it under a plant pot outside like my mum used to do with our door key. I contemplated the pot idea. Surely one more feast for the eyes wouldn’t hurt? I was so persuasive. And it was worrying that many of my conversations of late were in my own head. I made a mental note to organise something for the charity, where I could speak to actual people.

  Of course. I’ll keep it safe. C x

  Thx, you’re a star. Does weekend work? Got a busy week. A x

  I took a deep breath. He’d probably be with Luce in the week, perhaps she’d moved in and had his dinner ready each night like I had for James, and since Andrew wasn’t the type to shag the secretary, or whoever else, he’d dash off home as early as he could each night to his caring partner.

  No problem. I’ll be in all weekend. C x

  ***

  I’d not thought about him all week. It was a conscious decision. A forced decision. A decision that would have perhaps required drugs to control in some people. But I focused on work and I pushed Andrew out of my mind. I started seeking venues for Kate’s vow renewal and looked into colour schemes and bands.

  It was Saturday morning before I allowed myself to think about Andrew. By the time the doorbell went, I’d convinced myself that ‘Luce’ would be with him.

  ‘Hello.’ I swung the door open and beamed.

  ‘Er, parcel, love.’ It was just the postman and I felt so foolish I practically snatched it from him.

  The postmark was Peru. Intrigued, I opened it. It was a strange-looking soft doll. I eyed it for a moment before digging into the package to see if there was a note.

  Our dearest Charlotte,

  We’re sorry it’s been so long since we were last in touch. We did send a postcard from Hawaii last month – hope you received it. We know you’ll be busy and not thinking much about us but wanted to let you know, we got your email and are thrilled you and James are going to have a baby – it just made us up!

  We’ll be back in England next year (flights pending) and can’t wait to see you all. The doll is for the baby. It’s an Andean doll from Peru.

  Hope James is taking good care of you, darling.

  We love you.

  Mum and Dad

  xxx

  I sunk into the sofa. When I’d emailed the scan picture, I didn’t mention anything about me and James but somehow it seemed peculiar for them to assume we were still together. I made a mental note to email them and let them know later. There was no rush since it takes them months
to check their email. I took the doll upstairs to the nursery and there was another knock at the door as I was on my way down.

  I opened it without remembering who’d be standing there. My parents’ parcel had thrown me off.

  ‘Andrew, hi, come in.’

  He smiled and stepped inside. Walking straight to the breakfast bar, he sat down. I wasn’t expecting him to stay; I wasn’t even expecting him to be alone actually. I wanted to ask him, where’s Luce? Luce not with you? Don’t you need to get back home to Luce? But I froze.

  ‘Any chance of a coffee?’ He grinned, flashing his electric eyes at me. There wasn’t any harm in coffee was there? I’d make Sam or Carl a coffee if they popped in.

  ‘Sure.’ I smiled and proceeded to make coffee.

  ‘I’m so glad you found my gym card. I must have shoved it in the nappy box with that DVD. Five quid they are to replace! I told them I’d have another look first.’ He let out a small laugh. I carried on making coffee. ‘So, did the antenatal class leave you feeling confident?’ he asked as the kettle boiled.

  ‘Yes.’ I smiled politely, pouring hot water into two mugs.

  ‘Good. I thought so, but then again, I’ve no idea how you feel so it’s irrelevant what I think.’

  I put down his coffee.

  ‘Is everything okay?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes, why wouldn’t it be?’ I sounded snappy when I didn’t intend to. He’d done nothing wrong and I shouldn’t care anyway.

  He glanced down at his cup. ‘I don’t know, you just seem . . . different.’

  I shrugged. ‘Nope, just the same old Charlotte.’

  He eyed me suspiciously and looked like he was about to say something but didn’t. The whole Luce thing was eating me up. I had to mention it. If I told him I was happy for him, that would be okay, wouldn’t it?

  ‘The other week, when you dropped me off I accidentally glanced at your phone screen. I saw “Luce” was worried about you. I hope you didn’t get in trouble.’

  My chest tensed in apprehension.

  He looked puzzled for a moment. ‘Luce? No, she was fine.’ He batted a hand in the air. ‘Great coffee by the way.’

  Luce must be secure in the knowledge that Andrew was hers and would always come back to her.

  ‘So, do you live together, you and Luce?’ I dared to ask.

  He furrowed his brow. ‘God no, no way.’

  It was a silly question. He probably never wanted to live with a different woman to Beth – too many memories I imagined.

  ‘It would be hard to live with another woman I suppose,’ I said sympathetically.

  ‘Living with a woman would be okay; it would, however, be hard to live with my mate Chris’s wife!’ He laughed.

  His friend’s wife! Suddenly, my chest cracked, freeing the butterflies I’d frozen in tension. It took all my resolve not to giggle.

  ‘Wait, did you think Luce was my girlfriend?’ he asked.

  ‘I, er, no, I . . .’ He placed a hand on mine and looked me straight in the eye. Feelings of electricity zipped and zapped about my body.

  ‘There is just one person I’d even want to go on a date with, never mind live with.’ He smiled and my heart leapt.

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘Yes. Someone beautiful, who I can’t help but find excuses to see.’ He held my gaze for a moment. ‘Charlotte?’

  I swallowed hard. ‘Yes.’

  ‘Can I take you out on a date?’

  The butterflies were on acid.

  ‘Yes.’

  ***

  I walked across the park, my stomach filled with cartwheeling butterflies. The early December sun was still warm and the air fresh; it was the perfect day for an indoor picnic. I entered the park’s orangery and could see Andrew sitting on a blanket on the other side of the long room, and I wanted to turn back and check my appearance one last time, though it was safe to say my bump did look big in that. I forced each foot forward until he spotted me and waved, and by that point, there was no turning back.

  ‘Hello, you,’ he said, smiling once I was close enough. He looked as gorgeous as ever; his dark hair had been trimmed and the strand that used to fall into his eye now skimmed his eyebrow, allowing me to see more of his face. He was wearing a grey round-neck T-shirt and slim-fit black jeans, which I loved. James had only ever sported a suit when working and chinos when he wasn’t. That was the extent of variety he’d displayed.

  ‘Hello,’ I said, smiling back nervously, taking in the gorgeous spread laid out neatly on the tartan picnic blanket and cushions scattered around. There were little triangular sandwiches, crudités and hummus, and a selection of cakes to satisfy the sweetest tooth.

  He reached up and offered a glass of something yellow and fizzy, and I glanced down at him, frowning.

  ‘It’s Shloer.’ The sun glinted through the glass and reflected off his bright blue eyes and he raised a hand to shade them.

  ‘In that case, let’s rock and roll!’ I took the glass from him.

  ‘Is the lady going to sit?’ he asked. I handed my glass back to him and plonked my handbag down on the mat before squatting down and trying to reach the ground with my hand. It was no good; I was stuck. Heat rose up through my cheeks as I tried again with the other hand. Noticing my struggle, Andrew jumped up and came to my aid, wrapping two strong arms around me just above my bump and easing me down onto my bottom.

  ‘Thanks,’ I said, when I was safely down.

  ‘God, I didn’t think the seating arrangements through – I’m so sorry, Charlotte, I’m an idiot.’

  ‘Being hoisted like a wale was not how I imagined the first time being wrapped in your arms would be like.’ I smiled to let him know I was teasing him and he looked down sheepishly before laughing.

  ‘Are you sure it wasn’t just an excuse? You could’ve just asked for a cuddle, you know. I might’ve even said yes.’

  ‘I bet you never envisaged yourself on a first date with a ready-to-pop pregnant lady,’ I said, crossing my legs for balance.

  ‘To be honest, no. But it’s not something I’m bothered about. It’s odd. I’ve known you now such a long time – since before you were pregnant if you count the Me & You website.’

  ‘I know, it’s just . . . well, most men I’m sure would have run a mile.’

  ‘I’m not like most men,’ he said. ‘Besides that, I value life. If losing Beth taught me anything it’s that all life is precious, especially new life, and if my date is growing a human, then that makes her pretty fantastic, don’t you think?’

  My stomach tightened so much it was almost painful and I came over all shy, unable to make eye contact for a second, which was so unlike me.

  ‘Anyway, I think this date was long overdue.’ He held up his flute.

  ‘That, I can agree with,’ I said, clinking my glass against his. ‘I can’t believe I’ve only got two weeks left! It will certainly be a shock to the system, but at least I’ll be doing what I do best.’

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘Taking over, making the decisions, being in complete control – all in a helpful way, of course.’ I laughed.

  ‘Ahh, yes – and you’ll have the perfect victim, I mean beneficiary.’

  ‘She’s going to move out by the time she’s five, isn’t she?’

  ‘If she’s strong, like you, she might last that long.’

  I nudged him playfully in the ribs.

  ‘I’m joking, she’s lucky to have a mother like you.’

  I smiled. I wasn’t sure he was right, but it was a nice thing to say. ‘I’m planning on giving it my best shot.’

  ‘God help her.’ He laughed, proffering a sandwich, which I took gratefully. Being pregnant was odd in the sense I never actually felt all that hungry, because my stomach was squished up, but I knew I needed to eat.

  ‘This is delicious. Did you make them?’ I asked, tucking into a delicious lamb and chutney sandwich.

  ‘As a matter of fact, I did. Cooking took my mind off things after Beth di
ed. I never wanted to go out for a meal or anything, and I had a constant stream of visitors filing through the door. Cooking was something I forced myself to do at first, by ordering a food shopping delivery each week, then I discovered I enjoyed it. I think it’s the structure – there’s no time for moping when you’re cooking: there’s prep, oven heating, and then putting it all together, cooking it, cleaning up, and so on. By the time it was ready to eat my mind was so clear, I actually had an appetite.’

  ‘So it was therapy?’ I said. I got it.

  ‘I suppose so. It took its toll though. There are only so many en croute dishes you can eat before your jeans don’t fasten.’ He grinned.

  ‘Well, I can’t exactly say anything about rotund bellies, can I?’ I giggled.

  ‘No, yours is definitely bigger than mine ever was!’ he said, raising both eyebrows animatedly.

  ‘So that’s where the gym came in.’

  ‘Yes, I still eat well, but I burn it off at the gym and on my walks.’

  ‘That sounds perfect.’ I started to feel uncomfortable, and my tummy cramped. ‘I think I need to stand up. I feel like everything is squashed up,’ I said.

  ‘God, I’m sorry, making a pregnant lady sit on the floor was a really crappy idea.’ He jumped to his feet and held both hands out. ‘Ready?’

  I took them and put my feet out in front of me, pressing my heels into the ground as he pulled me up. ‘Thank you,’ I said, once I was on my feet. ‘My tummy can ache a little sometimes. I think it’s because my skin is stretched to breaking point.’ I smiled.

  ‘I’ll get this packed away and we can either have a walk or I could take you home?’

  ‘A walk would be lovely, but you’re on your own for packing up, I’m afraid. I can’t bend down.’ I winced as my tummy tightened again.

  As he crouched down to pack everything back into the picnic basket, an almighty gush flooded from between my legs. For a moment, I was confused and embarrassed. Had I wet myself? My body wasn’t my own. Then an almighty wave of pain consumed me like a rabid wolf was trying to claw its way out of my stomach and I realised what was happening. Andrew was staring at me, mouth slightly agape.