by Lisa Swallow
Sky looks over, blonde hair loose across her expressionless face. “Dylan—”
Her look knocks into my life something I can’t control; a reminder I can’t have everything I want.
“It’s okay.” I sit on the bath’s edge next to Sky and pull her shoulders to me, resting a soothing hand on the back of her hair as I kiss her forehead. “I’m sorry… next time.”
My arms empty as Sky pulls away and picks up something recognisable next to her. I’ve seen these a lot in recent months. “Look at the test.”
I take the long plastic strip from her shaking fingers and stare the way I do every month, willing the lines to appear.
Two blue lines on the pregnancy test.
My heart skips out of rhythm, then speeds. “Tell me. I need to hear this.” But she doesn’t need to, her shining eyes are the answer. “Are you pregnant?”
“Yes.”
This.
This is fucking incredible.
I squeeze Sky to me, and she laughs, the sound catching in her throat as the emotion grips her too. “You’re incredible,” I whisper. “This is the best end to a shitty day.”
Sky wriggles against me as I cover her face in kisses, giddy excitement spilling out as I whisper how much I love her, how amazing she is… I don’t know, just… words.
“Only just though, Dylan. I don’t want to get excited,” she says, her voice muffled by my face.
I pull away, hold her cheeks, and gaze into the eyes of the woman who now holds a new person to complete our world. “I know, but I can’t help it. But this will be all right. Everything will work out this time.”
She grips my hand. “It will. I can’t believe this has happened.” The pure happiness on Sky’s face radiates through the room, to me, lighting up a corner reserved for her and our baby that’s remained overshadowed for months.
My bright future now fucking dazzles me.
18
JULY
SKY
Dylan walks through the London apartment door and straight over for a kiss. He ducks as I swat him on the head with a magazine and covers his head with a look of confusion.
“What the hell?”
“You did it again!” I smooth open the magazine on the kitchen table and point to the bottom right hand corner.
“Did what?” He takes hold and studies the page. Dylan, gift bags in hand, hidden behind sunglasses, walking out of a store in Camden.
“Your shopping trip. When was this? Last week? Exclusive or not, that’s a baby store!”
“My friend is having a baby next month. Why wouldn’t I visit a baby store?” he snaps.
I stare at him and speak words I never thought would cross my lips. “You’re buying Jem baby equipment?”
“No, I asked Tina what to buy for a new baby, and she sent me to the shop with a list. I bought uh… not sure. Some kind of thing they wear.”
“Thing?”
Dylan gestures at himself. “Dunno. All in one suit thing. Yellow.”
My mouth twitches in amusement. “You’re unpredictable sometimes, Dylan. Two years ago you didn’t know how to use a supermarket, and now you’re buying your rock star friend baby clothes.”
Dylan places a hand on my small bump. “Told you, I’m gonna be a hands-on dad. I can practice with Jem’s baby.”
“Right,” I say and squeeze his hand. “Uncle Dylan.”
He looks at the magazine again. “So why am I in trouble just for visiting a baby store?”
Adjacent to the image of Dylan walking into the shop is a separate shot of me, bending down to climb into my car. This time I have to admit there’s a bump showing beneath the loose T-shirt, to match the attached pregnancy rumours headline. “Morgan baby on the way?”
I clear my throat: “‘Normally, Dylan would compare the merits of prestige cars, but today he was spotted looking for wheels for a baby.’“ I roll my eyes and continue. “When we asked a close friend, they refused to confirm or deny the rumours, but a radiant Sky with just a hint of a bump answers our question.”
“I love the way they need to use arrows to indicate where your belly is,” snorts Dylan.
“Radiant?” I ask with a scornful tone.
“I’m sure the morning sickness will stop soon.”
“Morning, afternoon and evening sickness, you mean?”
Four months pregnant. Close friends and family know, but the public knowledge scares me. I don’t want a repeat of Lily’s reaction following our wedding. We’ve heard nothing from her since, and as the weeks pass, my anxiety she’ll appear somewhere or send anything else lessens. The legal threats worked, I guess.
The prospect of announcements and another interview don’t thrill me, but we need to make the news public soon.
Dylan’s lack of thinking might’ve forced our hand. “You were buying baby items, Dylan. Of course people will jump to conclusions.”
“Oh. Didn’t think. Oh well.”
I wrinkle my nose at his nonchalance but know his attitude is the better one.
“Of course,” I sigh. “I’m in denial, aren’t I? Thinking we can hide this.”
“Yep. And the doctor says everything is going perfectly with the pregnancy. We have nothing to worry about. The world can know.” He curls a hand around the back of my head and kisses my forehead. “Do you know how bloody hard it is not to tell every single person I meet? I am so fucking excited!”
“I know.” I squeeze his hand, heart swelling at his reaction. “I guess if we confirm this, they’ll back off a little.”
“Right, sure.” Dylan sits and flicks through the magazine. “It’s very confusing, by the way.”
“What is?”
“Prams and shit.”
I laugh and push him. “Maybe chat to Jem? You can make sure you don’t get the same model, then, unless you want to match. Or you could get custom Blue Phoenix ones.”
He flicks my nose. “Funny, Sky.”
I return the flick. “Have you seen him recently?”
“No. I think he’s in hiding in Hampshire.”
Blue Phoenix are split across the world again. Bryn is with his girl, Avery, travelling around Europe, and Liam on summer holidays with Cerys and Ella. I could be wrong, but I think I detected some tension between Liam and Cerys when we dropped round to visit and shared our announcement. I asked Cerys later, but she played things down, making a joke about how the boys are always in competition.
“And have you spoken to anybody in the band about the recording plans?” I ask.
Dylan puffs air into his cheeks and looks back at the magazine. “Not yet.”
“Dylan, if you can’t hide a baby, you won’t be able to hide this. Five months! You start recording in a few weeks too.”
“I’ve nothing to hide. Anyway, I told Steve. He isn’t bothered, just reminded me of my contractual obligations to the record company.”
“I know you’re worried about upsetting you friends, but I don’t think they’ll take this personally.”
“I know. But after the dramas I’ve caused in the last couple of years, I don’t want them to think I’m leaving the band.”
Dylan slumps back in the kitchen chair, and I spot his doubts and worry furrowing his brow. “They won’t think that.” I move to sit on Dylan’s lap, nudging his arm until he places it over my shoulder. “You’re not the only one involved in other projects, isn’t Liam doing some session work?”
“Not a solo album.”
I squeeze his thigh. “You worry too much.”
“Says you!”
“We’ll come clean with the world, take cover for a few days, and carry on with life. When you’re locked in the studio later in the week, I’ll chat to Tina about a press release, and you can arrange to meet up with Jem and Liam and chat to them about your plans. They’ll be cool, and I think Bryn will be good too.”
“I could wait for Bryn to come back and talk to all of them at once?” he suggests.
“Stop being a coward,” I say wi
th a laugh. “And don’t scowl, you know I’m teasing. I understand how this is a big deal, but life and people change.”
“Okay, baby first and band later? Deal?”
“Okay, deal.”
Life and people change? That’s the understatement of the year.
With Dylan involved in endless talks with Jack, we remain in London. Next week we head back to Berkshire for a couple of weeks where he can work on the tracks himself in his Dylan cave. Spending time in the heart of London always leads to mixed feelings for me.
Partly, I like the crowds and the anonymity London occasionally affords; other days it’s as if the media lie in wait, ready to pounce. I never understood the term “press pack” until my own status led to pack attacks by the bunch of dogs they can be. The baby rumours grow, as does the stalking.
I hate London traffic but prefer to drive myself and have some freedom. As the months pass, I become more used to the chaos. I don’t want to rely on people driving me around, and that or public transport is my alternatives.
I drop Dylan at the West London studios, I head to nearby SBC PR for my dreaded meeting with Tina. I have a shaky relationship with her still, but now Dylan and me are settled, things’ve been better.
She’s in her office, and her look focuses straight on my belly. I’m in a khaki shift dress, aware maternity clothes are merely weeks away, the pregnancy definitely visible.
The pristinely dressed woman purses her pink lips at me, and I can practically hear her brain whirring. “There’s no way we can pass your belly off as weight gain, Sky. I hope you’ve come to help me out here.”
I sit opposite, at her vast desk covered in papers. “Can you make this a low-key announcement? As if somebody leaked the news? No interview.”
She shrugs. “For now. Might need to allow someone official photos once baby arrives.” She pauses. “Why the look?”
“Sorry, I hate all this. I’d rather stay out of public focus, you know that.”
I swear she mentally rolls her eyes at my broken record refusal to accept marrying a world famous, billionaire rock star brings disadvantages too. “This is good for Dylan. After all the crap I’ve fielded for him, it’s nice to be involved with something positive in his life.”
“True.”
She pulls over a pad and poises a pen. “Right, tell me the facts, and I’ll get onto this. When are you due?”
“Early January.”
“Right. Anything else. Baby’s sex? Names? Plans for the birth?” She rattles off a set of questions we’ve barely addressed ourselves. I spent twelve weeks on tenterhooks wavering between joy and worry, only the last few weeks have I allowed myself to be pulled into the excitement.
“We don’t know the sex, yet and no names. Even if we had one, we wouldn’t tell.” Though I told Dylan I’m half tempted to share a ludicrous name and watch the world’s reaction.
“Are you intending to find out if this is a boy or girl?” Tina looks up, her own curiosity edging through.
“Yes, but I won’t share that, Tina.”
“Sure.” She scribbles notes. A lot of notes. I crane my neck but can’t read anything.
“Promise me this will be handled quietly.”
“Of course. I can’t control the public reaction though. If you’re bothered, disappear for a few weeks. Travel overseas and hide.”
I wrinkle my nose. Hide. No can do, Dylan needs to stay in London for his project, and I don’t want to be alone.
“Can I get you a coffee?” she asks when I don’t respond.
“Thanks.”
I stare out of the window, at the enclosing buildings stretching high above the noisy streets. Maybe peace would be nice. We chat about who Tina is allowed to tell as we wait for her assistant to bring our drinks. Sienna appears with a cardboard tray holding coffees in one hand and papers in her other.
“I brought Sky’s letters too.”
Tina’s eyes widen. “No, don’t. Leave those for me to deal with.”
“What letters?” I ask.
“It’s nothing. A few we’ve filtered out from the Blue Phoenix fan mail,” says Tina.
Her brush-off doesn’t fool me. I hold my hand out to Sienna and the creased A4 papers. “Let me see.”
“Sky, probably best you don’t.” Tina stares at Sienna as she says the words, and I swear she’s about to stand and throttle the poor girl.
I grab the letters from a paling Sienna’s hands. “I need to know about this kind of thing. Is somebody threatening me?”
The words blur as I scan them, not absorbing anything, not needing to read the signature at the end.
Lily.
“Tina! What the hell?” I say in a hoarse voice. “When? How many?”
Tina sighs in defeat as I leaf through them. “Have you seen Lily recently?”
“No way. I would’ve run in the opposite direction if I caught even the slightest glimpse of her.” I swallow down the rising panic. “I thought she’d backed off.”
“Neither of you have seen her?” continues Tina.
I jerk my head up from the letters. “What do you mean ‘neither’?”
“Sky, can we please go through this with Dylan here.”
“Why? Tina?” She refuses to answer, and I skim read them more closely. All the letters have the same theme: Lily writes as if I’ve spent time with her:
Sky, Thanks for the catch up last Tuesday. The cafe is one of my favourite! The muffins are to die for, though it was funny the way some people watched us. I’m glad we put everything behind us and are friends now. Are you still planning to catch up with Tara next week? I’d love to meet her. I haven’t had the chance since we visited her in hospital.
My cheeks heat as I flick through. Ten letters sent over the last four months, and not once has anybody mentioned this to me.
“Does Dylan know?” I ask through gritted teeth. “Has he seen them?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Which means yes!” I snap. I catch sight of the date. The first letter arrived shortly after we discovered the pregnancy.
“Has she written to him too?”
“No.”
My palms sweat as I grip the handwritten paper. “What are you doing about this?”
Fury grows. How dare Dylan hide something like this from me? He’s broken one of our most important promises. No more hiding anything.
“We’re biding our time.”
“What?” I hiss. “Biding your time? Write to Lily! Bloody send somebody to threaten her again!”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Sky.”
Her calming tone has the opposite effect, and I shake the letters at Tina, voice rising. “You’ve read them, I presume? Lily’s delusional. She’s been following me again. How often? This reads like I’m meeting her for lunch catch-ups and we’re best friends. What if she comes to the house next?”
In the moment, the decision is made to return to Berkshire, as my overactive imagination plays frightening scenarios over in my mind.
“Somebody is watching Lily, and if she slips up, we’ll be down on her straightaway.”
I snort. “Watching her? So you’re watching her watching me. How insane is this?”
I stand and stumble as the blood struggles to my head with the sudden movement. “I need to talk to Dylan. Now.”
Sienna hovers in the door. “I’m sorry,” she says in a meek voice. “I didn’t realise.”
“Leave, and bring Sky some water,” snaps Tina, then turns to me. “Sky, sit down. You don’t look well.”
“Not well?” I half shout. “How dare you! Both of you!”
“It was Dylan’s decision. I—”
I slam my hands on the table. “I need to leave before the rest of this building hears me screaming at you. Because I’m this bloody close.” I hold my forefinger and thumb millimetres apart.
Tina picks up her pen again. “The press release, what do you want to do?”
I blink at her indifferent reaction to m
ine. “Do what the fuck you like!”
My anger blinds as I stumble from the room. I shove the letters into my bag. If they won’t deal with this, I bloody will.
The heat hits my already clammy skin; the English summer weather hit a sticky, muggy stage. Add in the pregnancy and I’m uncomfortable and nauseous. I parked my car around the back of the SMC offices, and when I round the corner, I halt and back up.
The scene greeting me shifts my day from crap to a huge bloody nightmare. A girl leans over my car bonnet as she writes a note, oblivious to passers-by. Her long, blonde hair falls across her face obscuring her features, but there’s no doubt who this is.
Lily.
The apparition wears blue shorts, exposing her long legs and a short cut white top. An ordinary girl on a summer’s day, not a stalker hitting the jackpot. My racing heart pounds harder. Do I confront Lily or leave this?
How closely does Lily follow me? How long for? Close enough if she knew I’d be here. I’m not often in public alone. Has she snatched her chance?
I should bloody show them I can deal with her myself. I’m in public. She can’t touch me.
I stride across the car park to confront her. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I growl.
“Sky! I was hoping I’d catch you.” She gives me a warm smile, cornflower blue eyes shining. “I was writing you a note to leave on the car. You keep missing our coffee dates. I wanted to see you again.”
“I think you’ve sent me enough notes.”
Lily’s delusional smile continues, despite my stony look. “You didn’t reply to my letters. I wondered if you weren’t receiving them. I wish you’d give me your phone number. Then I’d be able to contact you more easily.”
“Why would I do that?” I snap.
“In case I need to get in touch, silly.” Lily tucks the pen into her small handbag and takes out her phone.
Does she seriously think I’ll give her my number? But if I say no… If she touches me… I look around the small car park, towards the busy street. How fast can I move if I need? “We haven’t spent any time together, Lily. Have we?”
Genuine hurt fills her eyes. “That’s unfair of you.”