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

by Emma Robinson

Jenny stopped talking and stared at her. She didn’t want to jump to conclusions, but Ruth was looking at her intently and it was hard not to. ‘What are you saying?’

  A smile started to spread across Ruth’s face. ‘I’m saying that I did a pregnancy test this morning. I’ve been trying to keep it in because I wanted to tell David first, but I must tell someone before I burst. I’m pregnant!’

  Jenny almost dropped her mobile in her rush to throw her arms around her. ‘That’s wonderful, Ruth! So very wonderful! I can’t believe it.’

  Ruth grinned. ‘Me, neither. I’m still scared, but I’m so excited, too. I know I haven’t got a good track record, but I feel exhausted, sick and hormonal. That’s got to be a good sign, right? I’m trying to keep the terror locked away for now and enjoy this moment. I can’t wait to get home and tell David.’ Her words spilled out in a rush of enthusiasm.

  ‘Oh, Ruth, I can’t imagine how you must feel! The doctors will watch you and this baby like hawks this time. Nothing will happen. Everything will be perfect. Oh, I am so, so pleased. This has made the whole weekend!’ She hugged Ruth again. They were laughing happily when Jenny’s mobile beeped and she looked at the screen. ‘Ah, they got my message. They want to know where we are.’

  ‘I suppose we should put them out of their misery. Maybe I’ll pretend I went home with a strange man. Shall I take my knickers off and leave them hanging out of my handbag?’

  Jenny groaned. ‘Please don’t. I don’t think I could cope with any more revelations this weekend. Come on, let’s go.’ She stood up and held out her hands to Ruth to pull her up.

  When their eyes were level, Ruth kept hold of Jenny’s hands. ‘Please don’t mention my pregnancy to the others yet. I’d rather as few people know as possible until I’ve had the first scan.’

  ‘Of course not.’ Jenny paused. ‘Whilst we’re on the subject of secrets, though, I have a little confession of my own.’

  It was easier telling Ruth than the others. For a start, she hadn’t been writing about Ruth’s parenting idiosyncrasies for the last few months. Plus, Ruth was barely listening to a word Jenny said: she had far more important things on her mind. Which was fine by Jenny. Anyone would be happy for Ruth.

  But Jenny’s happiness was bigger than that: Ruth was her friend.

  When she’d first met these four women, they had been so far removed from her existing friends that Jenny could never have imagined that she would feel as she did now. But somewhere along the way, through a sea of nappy changes, sleep regimes and undigested milk vomit, they had somehow, unbelievably, become her friends. This was both wonderful and terrible: wonderful, because she had new buddies; and terrible, because she couldn’t continue to write about them.

  The Undercover Mother had been a stop-gap. A smokescreen. A means to an end. All she had wanted was to show Eva that she still had it, that she could be a mother and a writer. Once that had been established, Eva would have had no reason not to give her back ‘Girl About Town’.

  The problem was, she didn’t want it back. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to write; there were plenty of ideas fluttering about her brain. But they were all ideas for The Undercover Mother. Writing about the restaurant, the bar, the social scene for ‘Girl About Town’ didn’t interest her at all.

  But no one wanted her to write The Undercover Mother. Not Eva, not Mark, and not the four women she now realised were her friends.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  It’s a pretty weird thing, being thrown together with a bunch of other women just because you have your babies around the same time. With normal friendships, you have a certain chemistry which attracts you to someone: they might make you laugh or have really interesting ideas; they might read the same books as you, like the same restaurants or secretly enjoy watching World’s Strongest Man (you know who you are).

  Scary, Sporty, Posh, Ginger and me – we never actually chose each other. Someone at Antenatal HQ stuck us in a class together and we’ve just made the best of it ever since. I was pretty sure that it wouldn’t last. Like the blind date who turns up wearing a cagoule, the signs of lasting friendship between an earth mother, a lady who lunches and the businesswoman of the year were not looking good.

  But all these months on and we’re still together. Somehow, through a haze of weaning, changing and lack of sleep, we have slowly become friends. I'm not sure how it’s happened, but it kind of has…

  From ‘The Undercover Mother’

  * * *

  As the sun climbed higher, the day got warmer. Antonia and Naomi were seated outside a café, underneath a large blue parasol. They made an incongruous pair: Antonia in her designer sunglasses and Naomi with her two long plaits.

  Naomi jumped up and threw her arms around Ruth. ‘I am so, so sorry. I was completely thoughtless.’

  Ruth hugged her back. ‘It should be me apologising to you. I don’t know what came over me.’

  ‘Where’s Gail?’ Jenny automatically looked at Antonia and then quickly switched to Naomi.

  ‘She went towards the shops, looking for you. She's on her way back now.’

  ‘Maybe she’s calling Geoff to give him the good news.’ Antonia looked at them over the top of her latte. ‘He could be moving my things into the front garden as we speak.’

  Jenny brought Ruth up to speed on the events of the night before. She had thought that no one could open their mouth as wide as Naomi had that morning. Turned out, she was wrong.

  ‘What do you want to drink? Geoff’s paying.’ Antonia waved a credit card.

  ‘You’d better make the most of that,’ warned Jenny. ‘I’m sure he’ll get that stopped pretty quickly.’

  Antonia smiled smugly. ‘Actually, I have an account I’ve been transferring money into for the last couple of years. Just had a hunch I might need it someday.’

  Naomi raised her peppermint tea cup. ‘Well, I say good luck to you. I really hope you’ll be happy. I’m jealous you’re going to be living here. I’d love to live by the sea. Any chance your friend could be persuaded to open up her house as a respite centre for single mothers?’

  ‘Not you, too?’ Ruth’s mouth fell open again.

  Naomi sighed. ‘No, I’m going home. I just can’t see how much longer John and I can go on pretending everything is okay. I also have no idea what he’s going to say about this pregnancy.’ She looked glum, then glanced up sharply at Ruth to make sure she wasn’t upsetting her. It was one thing to have wine thrown over you, hot tea was quite another. Her phone rang. ‘Oh, bugger, that’s him now. Excuse me.’ She pushed her chair back and left the table to take the call.

  ‘Well, the weekend hasn’t quite turned out as I planned,’ said Jenny. ‘I think I need a coffee. Ruth?’

  ‘Yes, please, a decaf cappuccino. Oh, here’s Gail.’

  Jenny waved at the young waiter, who came straight over to take their order. Ruth was apologising to Gail and Antonia for necessitating a wild goose chase all over Brighton.

  ‘Don’t worry about it. Naomi’s news must have been a shock,’ said Gail.

  Antonia nodded. ‘Yes, it’s been quite a weekend of revelations, hasn’t it? I suppose our Undercover Mother has told you her big secret?’

  ‘She was just telling me.’ Ruth smiled at Jenny. ‘I need to take a look at this blog. Maybe I’ll get a guest appearance one day?’ She shook her hair. ‘I’m pretty sure I’m only a couple of shades away from being ginger.’

  ‘Unsurprisingly, I couldn’t sleep last night,’ said Gail. ‘So I read your blog. It’s actually pretty good.’

  ‘Thanks. I appreciate that.’ Much as Jenny was grateful, she just felt sad.

  ‘I read it, too,’ said Antonia. ‘It was funny. Even the bits which took the piss out of me. You made me sound such a snob, darling.’ She nudged Jenny.

  ‘Thanks. You’ve all been so understanding. Honestly. But it doesn’t really matter now. It’s over.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Antonia lifted her sunglasses. ‘I know that we we
re a bit cross last night, but we’ve read it now. It’s fine.’

  Jenny had a mysterious lump in her throat. ‘It’s not just that. I can’t get anyone to take it on. My editor hasn’t wanted it from the beginning. I hoped I could change her mind, but I can’t.’

  The waiter arrived with their drinks and passed them out. Gail took her black coffee from the tray and then turned to Jenny.

  ‘Why do you need someone else’s approval? Why can’t you carry on doing it yourself?’

  ‘Oh, I know I can keep it up as a hobby. I meant I can’t do it as a job. A paid job.’

  ‘Ridiculous. Of course you can.’ Gail sat up straight, reached into her handbag and pulled out her mobile.

  Jenny sighed. ‘No, that’s what I’m saying. I’ve tried. My boss doesn’t want it.’ She didn’t tell them how she had even tried her ex-boyfriend in her desperation.

  Gail was tapping and swiping her mobile screen. Then she turned it towards Jenny. ‘Look. Read this. Monetising your blog. Everyone is at it.’

  Jenny took the phone and scanned the page. There were pages and pages of advice about how to make money from websites and blogs. Advertising. Affiliate programs. But she knew all this.

  She handed Gail’s phone back. ‘I know about those things, but it takes an awful lot of time to build that up. And I doubt I could make it cover my entire salary.’

  ‘Maybe not,’ said Gail. ‘But what’s to stop you picking up some freelance work at the same time? Much more flexible than a full-time job. Plus…’ She was tapping her screen again. She found what she was looking for and gave the mobile back to Jenny.

  It was a comment on one of Jenny’s posts, added last night:

  I love this blog! It’s made me feel sane again. Pleeeasssseee can you write a book to get me through the bad days?

  The comment already had about 200 likes and replies agreeing with the idea:

  Yes!

  and

  Please do!

  and

  I’ll buy it for me and all my friends!

  A book? Was there a journalist anywhere who didn’t secretly dream of publishing a book? Could she do it? Going freelance was a risk, but what was the alternative? Jenny felt a flutter in her stomach. The same flutter she had got on the day she’d published her first ‘Girl About Town’ column.

  Gail sat back in her seat confidently. ‘Obviously, we will start charging a fee for our words of wisdom.’

  ‘And I will not be happy if I start getting papped. Unless I look gorgeous, obviously.’ Antonia flicked her shades back into place.

  Before Jenny could answer, a wonderstruck Naomi rejoined them, sat down beside Antonia and started mechanically stirring her peppermint tea. The others watched her, waiting for her to speak. When she started to sip her drink, uncharacteristically quiet, Antonia prompted, ‘Everything okay?’

  Naomi looked up, a little dazed. ‘It seems we might be going away.’

  Jenny nearly spat her coffee across the table. ‘What?’

  Naomi’s eyes shone. ‘We might be moving to Canada. Or not. Or somewhere else. Like here.’

  Ruth frowned. ‘You’re not making sense. What do you mean?’

  Naomi put her tea cup down and looked at them properly. She was bubbling with excitement. ‘It’s all John's idea. He started off asking me if we’d had a good time, then told me that Daisy was fine, which I already knew because I’ve been texting him about every hour to check on her.’

  ‘Yes, yes. Please get to the point before you force me to shake it out of you,’ said Jenny.

  Naomi giggled like a young girl. She flicked her plaits from her shoulders. ‘Well, he was silent for a few seconds and then kind of launched into it. He knows I’m not happy, but he loves me and Daisy and can’t live with the thought that we might leave.’ She paused for breath. ‘So, he’s been thinking about what’s changed and he spoke to your David’ — she nodded at Ruth — ‘at Antonia’s house yesterday, and he’s realised that he lost himself a bit. He’s been trying so hard to be a good dad and provide for both of us that he’s ended up being someone completely different. He also admitted that he knew dealing with his mother had not been easy and that I must be feeling lonely. He said he thinks if we go away for a while and spend some time just the four of us, we might be able to get back to the way we were – and make it work this time. He has an uncle in Canada with his own gardening business and—’

  ‘Back up, back up – the four of you?’ asked Ruth.

  Naomi smile seemed to get even wider. ‘He found the pregnancy test box in the recycling bin and put two and two together with the fact that I've been so emotional lately. It was that, coupled with not having me around for the weekend, that made him realise he needed to do something.’

  ‘So you’re having this baby?’ asked Antonia.

  ‘We’re having this baby,’ nodded Naomi.

  ‘And you’re moving to Canada?’

  ‘He has lots of ideas. Backpacking around Asia when you’re six months pregnant might be a little impractical, so we’ve agreed that just a change of scene would do us for now and then, who knows? One day we might buy a camper van and take both kids on a tour around Europe.’

  ‘I’m so pleased for you.’ Ruth put her hand over Naomi’s. ‘And I’m so glad you’re happy about the baby.’

  Naomi covered Ruth’s hand with her free one. ‘I am. It’ll happen for you, too, Ruth, I know it will.’ She looked around at the others. ‘I’ll miss you all, though.’

  Jenny glanced at her watch. ‘Speaking of which, we’d better get a move on or we’ll miss our taxi.’

  * * *

  Jenny stood with Naomi and Gail at the bay window. What a weekend. She still didn’t know if she had done the right thing by bringing them all here.

  ‘I feel quite sad.’ Naomi had tears in her eyes.

  Jenny put an arm around her. ‘It’s the hormones. You’ll be all right when you get to twelve weeks.’ But hormones didn’t explain why she felt the same way. Was this an ending? Or a beginning?

  The taxi came into sight around the corner. Naomi played with her bracelets. ‘Do you think we’ll all stay in touch? You know – with Antonia down here, me moving somewhere, you getting stuck into promoting your blog and maybe writing a book. And then there’s the, the—’ she glanced at Gail ‘—other situation…?’

  Gail shrugged. ‘Who knows? We will if we want to.’

  ‘I’d like to stay in touch.’ Ruth joined them, carrying her overnight bag. ‘I’ll need lots of tips if David and I do manage to have another baby.’ Jenny reached over and squeezed her arm conspiratorially. If she had it in her power to do anything right now, it would be to guarantee the safety of that foetus. Keep growing, baby. Keep growing.

  Antonia appeared in the doorway. ‘Your ride is here. Are you all ready to go?’

  ‘Naomi wants us to make a pact to be together for ever.’ Jenny was pretty sure Antonia would be moving on sharpish. Brighton must be full of Antonias, just waiting to meet each other for afternoon tea.

  ‘Well, I’d like to,’ said Antonia. ‘It’s been good to go through this with you all. The babies, I mean.’ She focused on Gail. ‘You do realise that our children are half-siblings? If neither of us have any more children, they might be the only family each other has one day.’

  Jenny hadn’t expected that response. Judging by her face, neither had Gail. But Gail nodded. ‘I’d like to stay in touch, too.’

  ‘Give it a while and maybe we can start going to events for single mums together?’ Antonia winked and smiled. ‘Too soon for jokes?’

  Gail’s eyebrows shot up and then she spluttered a laugh. ‘Why not? This year has been crazy enough that that might actually happen.’

  Jenny nudged Naomi. ‘Looks like we will.’

  * * *

  New baby. New friends. New job. Sometimes, when people tell you that your life is about to change, they are absolutely right.

  Epilogue

  Today, in the midst o
f having Weetabix wiped in my hair, realising I didn’t have one single pair of clean knickers and discovering that Mr Baby had eaten the last of the biscuits I was saving for nap time, I had a bit of an epiphany. So, just for a moment, please indulge me.

  In those first few months of motherhood, a group of friends with babies the same age can be the difference between a thin grip on sanity and being tipped over the edge. Being able to confide in someone that you’re worried that the small pimple on your baby’s cheek is actually the beginning of bubonic plague, especially when your pragmatic husband has suggested that you may as well add the NHS advice line to your Friends and Family phone package, is vital. As is that ever-comforting phrase, uttered after you tearfully admit the latest stage of horror you have encountered with your small baby: ‘Oh, yes, mine is doing that, too.’

  Although other friends with children are valuable, it is amazing how quickly they forget the bittersweet joys and terrors of those first few months. A handful of women going through the same experiences at the same time can give you reassurance, a reality check and a really good opportunity to get everything off your chest.

  No one wants to be lunching with the Super Mother who tells you she has everything under control and proceeds to lecture you on the ‘right’ way to bring up your child. No, far better to have a group of L-plate parents to accompany you on the journey: those who haven’t slept in the last day because they have kept a twenty-four-hour vigil over the baby that rolled off the sofa the morning before; who confess that they haven’t actually had sex with their husbands in over six months because they are just so damn tired; who admit that they feel like they have been run over by a very long steam train on a daily basis. These are the mothers with whom you should be spending your time to ensure that you keep that fingernail grip on the hope that you’re doing okay.