Times Like These

by Laura Carter

  ‘I know he does,’ Andrea mumbled. ‘I’m sorry, it’s just, if he did more, then maybe you’d have more time, for…’ Then she sighed, her usual straight back and broad shoulders seeming to deflate and taking with them Hannah’s fight.

  ‘For what?’ But Hannah didn’t need Andrea to answer that question. She never would and Hannah already knew the answer. Me. ‘Are we still talking about me being seven minutes late to work here, or is something else going on?’ Hannah asked.

  The question seemed to fall on deaf ears, as Andrea continued to stare out of the office window. As she waited, Hannah’s attention was drawn to the bundle of documents Andrea had thrown down on her desk just moments before and in particular, the name blazoned across the front of them. SANFIA RECORDS.

  She picked up the papers, feeling Andrea turn and shift her attention to Hannah as she read the sub-heading Acquisition of Stock.

  She turned then to face her boss, who stared at her silently. And she knew, this was Andrea’s way of telling her something, without telling her.

  ‘You’re trying to buy Sanfia Records?’ Hannah asked.

  Andrea didn’t move or speak.

  ‘Silly question, maybe, but does your sister know?’

  Andrea drew in a breath but didn’t speak.

  ‘I’ll take that as a no.’

  ‘I’m not trying to buy Sanfia Records outright, I’m trying to buy Jay out.’

  ‘Andi, I know you’ve been looking for something to make your mark at Stellar but…’

  ‘It’s not about that,’ Andrea said calmly.

  Immediately, Hannah understood. Andrea was trying to get rid of Jay from Sofia’s life, once and for all.

  Hannah set the papers back down on Andrea’s desk and walked to the window, where they stood next to each other, looking out across the river. For long minutes, Hannah thought about the most appropriate response.

  ‘Andi, for as long as I’ve known you, you’ve tried to look out for Sofia and do the best by her. I know that there was a part of you that made the move to Stellar to try to give Sofia and Jay space to make a go of things.’

  ‘I told him Stellar would buy his stock on the condition that he files for a divorce,’ Andrea said.

  ‘You did what?’ Hannah was unable to hide her shock. ‘Andi, that is not your call to make.’

  ‘And yet, I made it,’ she said, shrugging, with her hard-faced bitch persona firmly in place.

  ‘Andi, what the hell is wrong with you? You live in your own world, sometimes. You aren’t God. You can’t meddle with people’s lives like this.’

  ‘She isn’t people,’ Andrea said calmly. ‘She’s my sister and I know what’s best for her.’

  ‘What if what’s best for her is Jay? He’s getting help now.’

  Andrea turned to look at Hannah. ‘Hannah, you know everything I know. He’s bad news. He always has been and, thankfully, I don’t believe Sofia loves him any more. How could she? My sister is afraid of being alone, afraid of letting people down and, most of all, afraid of admitting that sometimes, being family just isn’t enough to stop bad things from happening.’

  Hannah scoffed. Andrea was unbelievable. ‘You know, for years, I have defended the way you behave. For years, I’ve thought that the way you are with Sofia is maternal instinct. But this… This is too far, Andi. I mean, God, is this really just about Sofia?’

  ‘What is that supposed to mean?’

  ‘You know exactly what it means. Is this about you not wanting to let go of Sanfia Records and wanting to prove something to the exec. board at Stellar? Seems funny that Sofia finds a chart hit with Seth Young and you’re all of a sudden interested in buying the label.’

  ‘How dare you? You of all people should know that this isn’t about me! I want to give Sofia a way out. She’s tied to Jay financially, in business, in misplaced loyalty.’

  ‘And that’s her decision. Not yours.’

  ‘If I don’t help her, who will?’

  ‘You’re bang out of line, Andi, and when this thing backfires, I won’t help you pick up the pieces.’

  Andrea glared at Hannah, her nostrils flared. ‘You have work to do.’

  Hannah laughed, sardonically. ‘That’s right. The truth isn’t easy, so let’s run. Typical Andrea.’

  They stared at each other, each of them breathing hard with anger, until Andrea said, ‘There’s a memo on your desk to be typed up.’

  Hannah finally took up her post at her desk and felt drained. Her morning had been frantic, made worse by Andrea’s revelation. She had been put in the middle of Andrea and Sofia again.

  She was tired of it. Tired of everything. She did need help.

  How was it that Rod could wake up, get dressed, and swan off to work without a care in the world, whilst she panicked and fretted about everything in their lives?

  What on earth was she supposed to do about Andrea’s latest move? Did she tell Sofia?

  Why did she constantly have to think about everyone else and no one ever thought about what she might want or how she might be feeling?

  Her cell phone chimed with a WhatsApp message…

  ROS: Lunch, ladies? I have so much to tell you. Rx

  And the next thing, Andrea shot out of her office running in the direction of the bathrooms. Hannah replied to the message.

  HANNAH: Count me in.

  She could use a lunch catching up on Rosalie’s latest shenanigans. Nothing took Hannah out of her real life quite as easily as a catch up with Rosalie and her distinctly un-average life.

  She set her phone on her desk and picked up the memo that Andrea had scribbled all over. As she read, she noticed Andrea come back out of the bathroom; pale and wiping her mouth with a tissue. A number of things occurred to Hannah…

  First, the arguments she had endured with Andrea over the last few weeks about heartburn and inappropriate lunch choices.

  Second, Andrea had replaced her three mugs of coffee each day with tea.

  Third, Andrea had been way more irritable and emotional than usual lately.

  Fourth, it seemed she was throwing her guts up in the morning.

  Fifth… She scrutinised Andrea’s breasts as she passed by, the way they now tugged at the buttons of her blouse, which usually fit perfectly.

  Oh, shit.

  She turned to find Andrea’s eyes already on her and in a look, Andrea confirmed Hannah’s thoughts. She was pregnant.

  Oh God, was it Hunter’s? Was there a chance it could be Tommy Dawson’s? The rock god whose snake was generally in a new cave every week or the asshole, cheating, scumbag CEO.

  Suddenly, nothing else mattered. The arguments, the bickering, the slanging matches, they were forgotten because Andrea needed her.

  But before she made it to Andrea’s door, the asshole, cheating, scumbag of the hour, was making his way along the corridor toward Andrea’s office.

  Did he know?

  ‘You wanted to speak with me?’ he said, entering Andrea’s office.

  Andrea glanced from Hannah to Hunter, with a look that said Help!

  ‘Yes, but not here.’

  Hunter knocked the office door, which began to slowly shut. ‘Well, I haven’t got time for anywhere else. What is it?’ he said, clearly still sour about the break-up.

  The door shut and Hannah felt helpless. She didn’t want to stare but she couldn’t look away either. She wanted to go inside and put her arms around Andrea. This would rock her world. She never spoke about kids, except negatively. Her only maternal instincts were in respect of Sofia and were otherwise non-existent. Andrea was terrified of commitment and a child was the antithesis of non-committal.

  Hannah watched as Andrea came to perch on the edge of her desk, facing Hunter, who looked arrogant as ever, with his hands in his pockets and pushing the tails of his flashy suit jacket open.

  Andrea spoke.

  Hunter’s composure broke.

  He rubbed his chin and paced the floor of the office.

  Andrea
looked down to the ground. Disheartened? Apologetic?

  Oh no, she was not accepting this as her fault.

  That bastard.

  It takes two, fuck-weed! Hannah wanted to scream.

  Then Hunter was in front of Andrea, flinging what looked like a credit card in her face. Andrea recoiled, startled. Hunter flung open the office door.

  ‘Get it done,’ he said.

  As he marched down the corridor, Hannah ran to Andrea, who was unmoving, still perched on the edge of her desk, Hunter’s credit card on the floor in front of her.

  ‘Leave me,’ she mumbled, her eyes fixed on a spot on the floor.

  Hannah stepped forward. ‘Andi…’

  ‘Please, Hannah, just leave.’ She looked up to Hannah, her eyes full, and whispered, ‘Please.’

  Hannah hated him. She hated that bastard. She wanted to drive a stake through Hunter’s stone-cold heart and tear it to shreds.

  * * *

  It wasn’t her fault, Hannah knew that, but as she walked into the French boulangerie and saw Rosalie waiting for her, Hannah’s lips curled, almost snarling. There had been a time in all of this that Hannah had felt terribly sorry for Rosalie, unsuspecting as Andrea screwed her dad. Now, all she saw when she looked at Rosalie was Hunter’s child and the fact Hannah had just bore witness to that vile man throwing a credit card at her best friend and telling her to go kill her unborn baby.

  She had to separate the two things. Lunch had been a bad idea, in hindsight, but she had fretted about Andrea too long before realising it was too late to cancel on Rosalie, especially since Andrea, for obvious reasons, had done a no-show.

  But there was a sickness in Hannah’s stomach that wouldn’t go away. It was hatred for Hunter, combined with disgust over Andrea and Hunter’s affair, mixed with sympathy for her best friend who would be feeling truly lost. She knew exactly how lost Andrea would be feeling because she remembered being a young woman, barely more than a child, in the middle of college, finding out that she was pregnant and not having a clue what to do, or how to tell people, or what Rod would say. With everyone who should have supported her being disappointed in her.

  The difference was, Hannah had never thought, not for a second, that she wouldn’t have the baby. Rod had never thrown money at her and told her to sort it. She couldn’t imagine what she would have said to someone who told her to abort her child. Her parents had alluded to it and that was part of the reason, seventeen years on, that she didn’t have a good relationship with them.

  Yet, here she was, kissing Rosalie on her cheeks and trying to pretend like her dad wasn’t a murderous dick.

  ‘Are you all right?’ Rosalie said, as they took seats opposite each other. ‘You look… bothered.’

  Hannah was staring at her friend, in a moment when she could air it all – the affair, the baby, the abortion – but knowing that it wasn’t her story to tell. There would come a time, who knew when it would be, that everything came out in the wash. Would she lose Rosalie’s friendship then? Wasn’t Rosalie as much a victim in all of this as that unborn child?

  But Andrea meant everything to Hannah. They had always been by each other’s side. Andrea had been the only person there for Hannah and Luke in her darkest days. Hell, Hannah suffered an agonising commute every day to work for Andrea and she knew that, without Hannah, Andrea had no one to truly rely on, or at least that was what she believed.

  And so, Hannah told Rosalie, ‘TJ is out of nursery again.’

  ‘Oh, that poor mite. You know you can call me when you’re stuck, right? I’ll be there in a flash.’

  Hannah gave a soft smile, hating that she was lying to Rosalie. ‘Thank you. Should we have a look at the counter? This place does the best focaccia.’

  She knew what she would pick for lunch, though she had no appetite, but feigning looking at the options in the glass counter bought her a few minutes to centre herself. It was Rosalie. The same Rosalie as yesterday. Her friend.

  They paid the cashier for their orders and resumed their spots at the table.

  ‘I’m hoping you’re going to tell me all about this perfect baby daddy you’ve found,’ Hannah said, as brightly as she could manage.

  ‘Perfect baby daddy? Ohhh, Lance?’ Rosalie asked. ‘Oh, you know, I’m not sure that’s going to work out, after all.’

  ‘But I thought he was perfect. Good job on Wall Street, matching values, all that jazz?’

  ‘Good looking, too. Like, Idris Elba good-looking.’ Rosalie smiled from behind her coffee cup.

  ‘Let me get this straight, he ticks all of your boxes and he’d make gorgeous babies with you but you don’t think it will work out? Didn’t you get along when you met?’

  ‘Oh yeah, we really did. He’s funny and sweet. Obviously smart. I like him a lot but I got thinking about you know, what kind of baby I want…’

  Hannah bit down on her lips to stop herself from saying something unkind. Rosalie. Andrea. What was it with the women in her life that they thought they could pick and choose which babies they had or didn’t have or what kind of baby they had? No one ever asked Hannah and she adored all three of her kids, regardless of whether they had been planned, what shape or size they were, whether they were smart or just a little bit dumb, whether they were athletic like Rod or anti-athleticism, like her.

  ‘…and the thing is, I want a baby that looks like me.’

  Hannah felt her features twist in confusion. ‘I thought the idea was it was your baby? Your egg, womb, all of that.’

  ‘No, it would be, I don’t mean, like, have my nose or whatever.’

  Then Hannah understood. ‘What do you mean?’ she asked, fakily breezy.

  ‘You know… Like, when I was looking after TJ, people asked if I was babysitting or whatever. They didn’t look at TJ and think he was mine.’

  Hannah felt her temper rise. ‘You mean because he’s black?’

  ‘I… Well, yeah, I think, mostly. I don’t mean that I have a problem with black kids, or anything…’

  Oh. My. God.

  ‘Just that I want my kids to look like they’re mine.’

  Hannah stood, her chair screeching against the tiled floor. ‘So my kids don’t look like they’re mine because they’re mixed-race? Is that what you’re saying?’

  ‘No! No. I… I’m sorry, this isn’t coming out right. It doesn’t even matter any more because I don’t think I’m going to go through with the whole process.’ She sighed. ‘Look, I just think if I had a white baby, people would know… I mean, it’s different for you because you have Rod. If I went down the Swans agency route, then my baby wouldn’t necessarily have a dad around when I was out with it, so it would need to look—’

  ‘Enough!’ Hannah yelled, drawing the attention of other diners. ‘How dare you? I’m so sick of you, and Andrea, and your first world problems. Babies aren’t toys, Rosalie. They aren’t trash you can throw away when you’re done with it or because you never wanted them in the first place. You think that a baby will cure the fact that you’re bored with your shoes and your handbags and the fact you have nothing meaningful in your life.’

  Rosalie stood. ‘How dare I? How dare you? I don’t want a baby to cure boredom, Hannah. I have meaningful things in my life.’

  Hannah grabbed her purse. ‘No, Rosalie, you don’t. You want a designer baby that you can pick up when it suits you and dress in fancy clothes and take for babyccinos then drop him off to Daddy, who is straight and white and rich, just like your daddy because isn’t Hunter just goddamn perfect?’

  ‘Don’t bring my dad into this!’

  ‘I will because the reason you can’t find a decent man and a father for your child is that you think the sun shines out of Hunter’s ass. You would overlook a decent man because he isn’t the CEO of a music label or because, god forbid, he isn’t a rich white man. Well, news flash, Rosalie, your dad is a lying, cheating, scum of the earth. If that’s what you want from life. If that’s someone you want to father your child, I don’t th
ink I want to know you.’

  Hannah stormed from the bakery with Rosalie hot on her heels. ‘What are you talking about? Why are you saying those things about my dad?’

  Hannah spun and found herself inches from Rosalie’s face. ‘Because he’s a heartless, cheating bastard.’

  ‘He is not! How would you even know that? Why would you say that?’

  ‘No? He isn’t, huh? Ask Andrea if she agrees with that.’

  Fuck. Fuck-fuck-fuck.

  Hannah startled herself, straightening her back as she sucked in a breath. What had she done?

  ‘Andrea? Andi? What are you saying?’

  There was no going back. She released her breath, resigned. ‘I think you know what I’m saying.’

  * * *

  Hannah felt faint as she made her way along the corridor to her desk. What had she done? She had outed Andrea and Hunter to Rosalie in a moment of rage. She had destroyed Andrea’s trust. Ruined a friendship. Made everything a thousand times worse for Andrea than it had been this morning.

  As she neared her desk, Andrea stepped out of her office and stood calmly, with her hands by her sides. Hannah was going to have to tell her the truth. Today of all days. Despite what Hunter had done to her this morning.

  There was no going back.

  She swallowed the bile that rose in her throat as she reached her best friend.

  ‘Andi, I have to tell you something.’

  Andrea spoke calmly. ‘You’re fired.’

  ‘Andi.’

  ‘Pack up your things.’

  ‘Andi, the kids.’

  ‘You had kids before you had lunch with Rosalie, perhaps you should have thought about them then.’

  Then she turned her back on Hannah, walked into her office and closed the door on their decades of friendship.

  20

  Andrea

  Rosalie hadn’t said anything that wasn’t true when she had called Andrea, yelling at her down the phone after Hannah had broken her silence about Andrea’s affair with Hunter.

  Andrea was a liar, a terrible friend, a horrible person, a homewrecker. She was all those things and worse.