The Undercover Mother_A laugh-out-loud romantic comedy about love, friendship and parenting

by Emma Robinson

  Gail started to shake her head and then changed her mind. She perched on the edge of the sofa and crossed her arms.

  Antonia continued. ‘Geoff is a very clever man – he always was. He’s also used to getting what he wants. Even when I look at the way we met, our early times together, I realise that it was not a fateful, accidental meeting of two people. I was exactly what he was looking for. A pretty, bright – but not too bright – girl who was ready to be moulded into what he wanted.’ She flicked her hands slowly downwards. ‘He didn’t do too bad a job, did he?’

  Gail cut in. ‘I’m not actually interested in any of this crap,’ she said. ‘I am already aware that your marriage is far from perfect.’

  Antonia laughed hollowly. ‘But that’s the point. It doesn’t need to be perfect. It just needs to look perfect.’ She took another sip of her drink. ‘And that is why he will never leave.’

  Jenny knew that Antonia was telling the truth and, despite the anger emanating from Gail, she could tell that she knew that, too. Imperceptibly, something had changed.

  There was a long pause. The weight of it made Jenny feel more obvious as an intruder. Nevertheless, they had chosen to have this conversation in front of her, so maybe she had a right to take part. ‘So why haven’t you left him?’

  Antonia shrugged. ‘I was speaking the truth earlier. What would I do? Where would I go? At one point I almost thought I might, but then Jessica came along. She’s my priority now.’

  Gail sank back into the sofa. ‘And Jake is mine.’

  The three women sat in silence for a few minutes. Then Gail spoke. ‘He told me you married him for money.’

  ‘He told me you were known for trapping married men.’

  ‘He also told me that you weren’t coping with motherhood.’ Gail looked Antonia in the eye. ‘That was a lie, too. You are a good mum.’

  Antonia sucked in a sharp breath and put her hand to her chest. Was that a stifled sob? She bit her lip, and it took her a while to reply. ‘So are you. It can’t be easy for you with your job to juggle, too.’

  Gail sighed. ‘I hadn’t really ever seen myself with a child. I didn’t know if I was even mother material. But Geoff was so confident. So stable. I let myself imagine this other life. The three of us. A house with a little garden. Rather pathetic, really.’ She paused, but no one interrupted. ‘I had two months of that before I found out that you were pregnant, too. I was so angry.’

  Antonia nodded. ‘You should have seen me the night of the antenatal class. There are calmer volcanoes.’

  Gail shook her head. ‘But I was angry at you, not at him. Isn’t that strange?’

  ‘Not really. Geoff is good at that. How do you think we’ve stayed married all these years?’ Antonia put her head on one side and looked at Gail intently. ‘I might have lied about the nanny. But there have been others.’

  Gail looked exhausted. ‘I really do need to go to bed now. I can’t think about this any more.’ She got up. ‘Are both of you going to bed, too?’

  Antonia curled her feet up onto the chair. ‘I’m going to wait up for Ruth.’

  Jenny looked at her mobile. At last, a message from her.

  I’ve checked into a hotel. Speak to you tomorrow.

  Jenny sighed. Now she bloody tells me. She held the screen up to show the others. ‘No need.’

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  I envy the people who have the kind of home where you can drop in unannounced and they are always tidy. I need at least a half-hour warning from any impending visitors so that I can kick toys under the sofa, cram shoes into cupboards and scoop three days of kitchen debris into the bin/sink/dishwasher.

  Both Posh and Scary have cleaners, so their houses always look tidy. Sporty told me that she has a ‘thirty-minute blitz every evening’. I tried that for three days but the clutter just came creeping back by midday, so I gave in to it. Mr Baby says that at least we won’t get burgled, as they’d walk straight back out, thinking someone else had already turned us over…

  From ‘The Undercover Mother’

  * * *

  The kitchen was large and sleek, in lime green and grey, the floor cold as Jenny walked across it barefoot in search of coffee. Hopefully, she opened the cupboard above the kettle and found a myriad boxes of speciality teas and, thankfully, a cafetière and half a packet of filter coffee sealed with a pink plastic food clip. Finding a spoon in a precisely organised drawer, she scooped a few heaped spoonfuls of coffee into the cafetière and waited for the kettle to boil.

  Her own house was nothing like this. In her kitchen, she would have had to retrieve a cup from the dishwasher. That’s if the dishwasher had even been turned on the previous evening. If it had been Dan’s turn to stack it, chances were he would have left it open because there was still an egg-cup-sized amount of unfilled space and he was waiting until it was ‘full’.

  There was movement upstairs; at least one other person was awake.

  Despite the drama, much of last night had been fun. The restaurant had been nice, if you ignored the last ten minutes; the drinking games had been enjoyable, if you forgot about the drink-throwing; even the walk home had been pleasant, if you managed to black out the sobbing, the barbed comments and the subsequent revelations of marital infidelity. It was all about perspective.

  The kettle clicked as it boiled and Naomi appeared at the door, her hair wet from the shower. ‘Morning.’

  ‘Good morning. Would you like some coffee?’

  ‘Is there any herbal tea?’ Naomi started randomly opening cupboards. The fringes on the hem of her skirt were beaded and they rattled softly as she walked.

  ‘The tea is in that cupboard over there.’ Jenny motioned with her hand. ‘How are you?’

  ‘My head feels like it belongs to someone else this morning. Which, considering I only had about half a glass of wine, is rather unfair.’

  Jenny brought the cups over to the table and took a seat. ‘Look, Naomi, about last night and what the others said. I don’t think you should make any rash decisions.’

  Naomi sighed and sat down, too. ‘I’m not a complete idiot, Jenny.’

  Jenny was taken aback. ‘I know you’re not, I just meant—’

  ‘Look, I know what you all think of me. I didn’t need to read your blog to know you think I’m an airhead hippy with weird and wonderful ideas. I also realise that I don’t really fit in with you all.’

  ‘That’s not true!’ Jenny lied automatically.

  ‘I used to feel bad about it,’ continued Naomi. ‘But now I’ve realised that none of us actually fits. Not even you.’

  Jenny attempted to protest, but Naomi was right. They didn’t fit. Jenny had spent the last six months trying to hold together a group of five very different women, at least two of whom had good reason to detest one another. What a waste of time.

  So why was Naomi smiling?

  ‘The thing is, I think that that’s okay. We don’t need to be the same. The fact that we are all completely different is a good thing. This weekend could be the making of our friendship.’

  ‘Ah, yes, well…’ How could she best explain why that might not be the case? That this might be the last time they would be together like this. Which was a little sad. Sadder than she’d expected.

  Another set of footsteps was coming down the stairs.

  Gail came into the kitchen, dressed in smart trousers and a shirt and carrying her leather overnight bag. She looked from one to the other. ‘Am I interrupting something?’

  Jenny got up. She would have to wait to tell Naomi about last night’s main event. ‘No. Would you like some coffee?’

  ‘That would be great, thanks. Strong and black.’ Gail sat down on a kitchen chair and checked her watch. ‘What time are we going to the station? I’m all packed and ready.’

  Naomi stopped blowing on her tea. ‘You’re in an awful rush suddenly. Something we said?’

  Gail tapped her fingernails on the table. ‘Just ready to go, that’s all. As the
least popular house guest, I’d hate to outstay my welcome.’

  Naomi started to plait her damp hair. ‘Why wouldn’t you be popular? What happened after I left last night?’

  Jenny put a mug of coffee on the table and waited for Gail to explain. But she didn’t need to. An immaculate Antonia breezed in and took up the story.

  ‘What happened, my darling, was that Gail confessed to shagging my husband and I informed her that I already knew.’

  Naomi froze mid-braid and looked at Gail, who gave a small nod of affirmation.

  Jenny couldn’t face a rerun of the previous evening. She just needed to keep things going for a few more hours. ‘So, now we’re all up to date. Coffee, Antonia?’

  ‘Wonderful idea. And then does anyone want to join me in going out to get some breakfast? I’m desperate for some bacon and pancakes. Anyone else?’

  Once again, Antonia was not acting as would have been expected in the presence of her husband’s mistress. Gail, on the other hand, looked shaken, and nothing like her normal confident self. Now wasn’t the right time to mention that, though. Unless you were Naomi.

  ‘Gail, are you okay? You don’t look right.’

  Antonia wheeled around. ‘Is she okay? What about me? I’m the wronged wife here!’

  There was a pause.

  ‘To be fair to Naomi, you don’t seem to be looking for a shoulder to cry on this morning,’ said Jenny. Antonia always looked good, but there was a new lightness about her today. Wearing a brightly patterned linen dress and with bare feet, it was as if she’d just arrived home from a holiday in the sun.

  Antonia laughed. ‘You’re right. I’m feeling surprisingly chipper. I made some decisions last night before I went to sleep. I’m not coming back with you. I’m going to stay here for a while. I called my friend and I can stay if I want. Emily, the nanny, is going to bring Jessica later today.’

  This was quite a sudden turn around. How much of Antonia’s ‘I can’t do it alone’ speech last night had been an act for Gail’s benefit? She was clever.

  ‘Are you leaving Geoff?’

  Antonia nodded. ‘I’ve been thinking about it for a while. I hired a private detective to take some incriminating photographs in case I ever decided I wanted a divorce. He was a dad I met at a baby group – we got talking, he told me what he did and I thought, “Why not?” That day we went clothes shopping, Jen, I met up with him and he gave me the photographs he’d taken.’ She turned to Gail. ‘There’re some gorgeous ones of you.’

  The young man in the suit! So that’s why Antonia hadn’t told Jenny about him that day – no wonder they had looked so intense. Could she have got it more wrong?

  If Gail looked shaken before, she looked like she might fall to the ground now. ‘Have you told Geoff?’

  ‘No. I think I’ll let him work it out for himself. It should only take him a few days at most to realise that we’re not there.’ She looked hard at Gail. ‘Why? Are you planning on running around there to tell him?’

  Gail waited a few moments before shaking her head. ‘No. I think he and I are done.’

  Antonia sat down. Her voice softened. ‘I should hate you, Gail, but I don’t. I think that’s what made up my mind.’

  Neither of them looked like they were going to speak again any time soon, and Naomi was standing there with her mouth wide open. Time to sort out the other problem.

  ‘Has anyone heard from Ruth?’

  ‘Did she not come home last night?’ asked Naomi. Antonia and Gail reflexively checked their mobiles.

  Jenny shook her head. ‘She sent a text to say she had booked into a hotel. I’ll send her another message. If we haven’t heard from her in half an hour, I think we should go and look for her.’

  ‘But where do you suggest we look?’ asked Antonia.

  ‘I don’t know… the shops, the beach, anywhere.’ Jenny waved her hands vaguely.

  ‘She could already be on a train home,’ said Gail.

  ‘She might be, but do you want to call David and ask him if she’s there? I’d rather just see if I can find her first.’ Plus, Jenny had an idea she knew where to look.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  One of the many books I am consulting for guidance suggests that you should be able to discern whether your baby wants feeding, changing or comforting from the sound of their cry. I couldn’t even pass GCSE French so I don’t hold out much hope that I can translate the different tones in The Boy’s persistent yell. Feed? Change? Comfort? Sometimes I do all three and he’s still going at it. What then?

  The whole responsibility thing has kept me awake more than once in the last few weeks. Mr Baby has already had to talk me down from taking The Boy to A&E because I thought his breathing pattern had changed. It was when I was trying to impersonate the said change that I realised how ridiculous I was being: Mr Baby suggested I supplement my maternity pay with a slot on an adult chat line for heavy-breathing fetishists.

  Sometimes the fear of getting it wrong is overwhelming. And then I have to remind myself how lucky I am to have a baby to worry about…

  From ‘The Undercover Mother’

  * * *

  The breeze was cool, but the morning air was starting to warm up. Jenny slowed down as she got to the beach, took off her sandals and felt the cool stones under her toes. She was beginning to understand Naomi’s fascination with the sea.

  In the midst of the revelations of the night before, she was relieved to have finally told the girls about the blog. They hadn’t seemed too bothered about it in the end; other events had rather overshadowed it. Ironically, it probably wouldn’t matter much now anyway. As far as Eva was concerned, she would be stepping back into her ‘Girl About Town’ role next week, and that would be the end of The Undercover Mother.

  Right then, all Jenny wanted was to be at home on her sofa, with Henry on one arm and Dan on the other. Despite the hangover beginning to manifest itself at the back of her head, she would have even swapped her lie-in this morning for an early morning cuddle. If she went back to ‘Girl About Town’, every weekend would be like this: juggling late nights being a party girl with early mornings being a mother, and trying to write in the middle of it. But Eva had made it clear that this was what she wanted her to do. If she didn’t, she knew that she would have to kiss goodbye to her own column at the magazine.

  Putting her hand up to her eyes, she scanned the beach. There were a couple of people out walking their dogs and a young man asleep, but other than that the beach was empty. What a disappointment. She had been sure she would find Ruth here; hadn’t she told them that her teenage self had always gone to the beach to think? Maybe Gail was right, and she had gone home already. Feeling terrible again that she had persuaded Ruth to come at all, Jenny turned to go.

  It was then that she saw her, sitting in the exact spot they’d found Naomi yesterday.

  ‘Can I join you?’

  Ruth hadn’t heard Jenny coming and she started at the sound of her voice. Smiling automatically, she motioned for Jenny to sit beside her. ‘Please, take a seat.’ She seemed quite comfortable, picking up pebbles and throwing them into the sea. If she was irritated about being found, she wasn’t showing it.

  Still, Jenny wanted to make sure she wasn’t intruding. ‘You can tell me to go away if you want. We were just worried about you.’

  Ruth shook her head. ‘No, stay, please. I’m sorry for leaving and waiting so long to tell you I’d found a hotel. It was thoughtless. I just needed to get away, not think about anyone else for a few hours.’ She looked levelly at Jenny. ‘Is Naomi okay? I feel guilty about throwing my drink over her. What a stupid overreaction.’

  ‘She’s fine. And she completely understands why you were so upset.’ Jenny was relieved. This was the Ruth she recognised. Kind, thoughtful, not given to unpredictable reactions.

  Ruth frowned. ‘Didn’t need to throw my toys out of the pram like that, though, did I? I’m not normally so dramatic.’

  Jenny shrugged. ‘If I
were you, there would have been several toy-throwing incidents by now. To be honest, Naomi has brought out the tantruming toddler in me on many occasions. I’ve grown to love her, but it’s taken some work. Do you mind if I text the others to say that I’ve found you? Everyone is out looking.’

  Ruth nodded. ‘Yes, of course. Please do. I don’t want to worry anyone. I need to go back and face the music at some point, anyway.’ She put her hands up to her face. ‘I’m so embarrassed.’

  Jenny started to tap away at her mobile. ‘You don’t need to be. Naomi will just be happy you don’t hate her. She feels terrible for blurting out the pregnancy like that. She’s a bit mixed up.’ She stopped typing and looked at Ruth. ‘Speaking of feeling guilty, I’m sorry if I did the wrong thing persuading you to come away. I didn’t want to make you feel bad.’

  Ruth put her hand over Jenny’s. ‘Don’t be silly. And don’t apologise. I’m glad I was invited. It’s been good for me.’

  They sat in silence for a few minutes, just listening to the sea. After a while, Ruth turned to Jenny. ‘It’s not like me, you know, losing my temper like that. And I have certainly never thrown a drink over someone before.’

  Jenny shook her head. ‘Really, don’t worry about it. Everyone understands.’

  Ruth carried on as if she hadn’t spoken. ‘And the feeling sick. That’s not like me, either. I really wanted to have a good drink this weekend, but I haven’t managed more than a sip of anything.’

  ‘Well, you’ve got a lot going on and—’

  ‘—and last night, lying in that hotel room on my own, my mind began to turn over. Feeling sick. Temperamental outbursts…’