11 p.m. On the way back down I noticed a tall, kilted man with brilliant legs at reception. It made me miss sex for a moment, and as I walked past the man with his sexual legs said, ‘Phoebe?’
I knew that voice. That Irish voice. I turned around, and standing there on those very legs was Oliver, looking so handsome I could have just leapt on him from across the room. ‘Oliver! How … What … what are you doing here?’ I stammered.
‘Wait for me inside. I’m just going to dump my case. You look deadly, by the way.’
I rushed through to the hall, thankful that I’d changed my shoes, and grabbed Lucy, who was doing shots with Kevin.
‘He’s here! Oliver is here!’ I blurted out.
‘I know.’ Lucy smiled. ‘I invited him. I was worried he wouldn’t make it.’
‘What? Did you tell him? Oh, Lucy, please tell me you didn’t tell him.’
‘Of course not. That’s your job. I just made him realize that he should be here for New Year, with the people that love him. Like you.’
And with that Lucy was dragged off to dance by some old fella in a grey suit and I sat down at the table. God, I was nervous.
Oliver came in five minutes later and sat down beside me.
‘So, how are you?’ he asked. I could tell he didn’t have a clue what to say to me and noticed that his gaze had moved from my face and was now transfixed on my boobs.
‘Why are you back, Oliver? All those emails and texts I sent and you never replied. To any of them. I felt so stupid.’
‘I’m so sorry,’ he said, looking down at the table. ‘I behaved so badly – I just didn’t know what to say to you. I’m a cunt, I know.’
I took a sip of my orange juice and tried to figure out what to say next. ‘Orange juice?’ remarked Oliver, like he’d just watched me drink bleach. ‘You’re not pacing yourself, are you?’
‘No. Well, yes … long night ahead, you know.’
We sat in an awkward silence for a moment as the ceilidh ended and the band began. ‘Want to dance?’ asked Oliver, taking my hand.
‘Sure,’ I said, not really wanting to but we made our way to the dance floor anyway, Oliver waving at people as we walked past. We both danced stupidly to the band’s terrible rendition of ‘Billie Jean’, but I wasn’t having fun. At all. Half of me wanted to grab him and kiss him and pretend like none of this was happening and the other half wanted to sit him down and ruin his life.
‘Oliver!’ I shouted over the music. ‘We need to talk.’
‘What?’ he said, straining to hear me. ‘What did you say?’
The music dimmed and: ‘Ladies and Gentlemen, one minute to go, please have your glasses ready!’ the band leader announced.
Lucy ran over with lemonade and orange juice for me and a glass of champagne for Oliver and I saw everybody make their way over to join us. Both Hazel and Lucy glanced in my direction as if to ask, ‘Have you told him?’ but I shook my head and took another sip of my drink.
As I watched my friends count down to the New Year, I suddenly felt horribly alone. They had no idea what lay in store for them, but I knew exactly what was ahead for me. The only thing I didn’t know was if Oliver would be part of it.
‘HAPPY NEW YEAR!’ So we all kissed and hugged and sang that traditional bloody song and then danced to the band like maniacs. Half an hour later I decided it was time.
I took Oliver by the hand and led him up to his room. I’m sure the poor guy must have thought I was taking him there for make-up sex, but he was in for a shock. He went to kiss me and I kissed him back for a second, remembering how much I missed his kiss and his touch and his… ‘Wait,’ I said, pulling away, ‘I need to talk to you. It’s important and might rule out any future kissing.’
‘Oh fuck, you’re not seeing someone, are you? Lucy didn’t mention anyone and I thought—’
‘No, I’m not seeing anyone, Oliver, it’s just—’
‘You’re not still doing those challenges, are you? I mean it’s fine if you are, but don’t involve anyone else. Please. I don’t want you to be with anyone else. Can you do that? For me?’
‘Well, I do have one more challenge,’ I said. ‘An unplanned one, shall we say … and it will involve another person—’
‘A girl?’ he asked, suddenly becoming interested.
‘Or a boy,’ I replied. ‘I don’t know yet.’
‘I don’t understand, Phoebe.’
‘Oh Christ, I’m not explaining this very well. Just sit down, Oliver.’ He sat on the edge of the bed looking totally confused.
‘Oliver, I’m pregnant. That night at Halloween … my antibiotics fucked up my pill and I’m pregnant. Yes, it’s yours, and, yes, I’m keeping it. So there will be a new challenge. Fuck, this will be my biggest challenge yet. And I’d love for you to kiss me and be excited and want to be involved, but I’ll also understand if you don’t. There’s no pressure from me at all.’
He just stared at me. I could see his mind working overtime.
‘So what I’m going to do is this: I’m going back to my room because I’m exhausted. If you come to my room later – room 202 – come only if you want this too. You have to be sure. But if you don’t come, I’ll know the answer and I’ll see you at breakfast and we can talk about what’s going to happen when you go back to Chicago. Deal?’
Sounds which resembled ‘Fuck’ and ‘OK’ were made, so I turned around and made my way back to my room. Which is where I am now. In bed and waiting. It’s been two hours.
I know it’s a lot to take in; perhaps a few hours isn’t enough time for anyone to make this kind of decision. If he doesn’t come, I’ll manage somehow, but I’m hoping he loves me enough to show up …
Sunday January 1st
I was woken by the sound of Lucy and Hazel knocking at the door at around four in the morning.
‘PHOEBEEEEE. WAKE UP!’
‘Go away,’ I grunted, annoyed it wasn’t Oliver.
‘Phoebe. Play with us. Come and play with us … forever … and ever …’
‘I’m sleeping, you bastards. I’ll see you tomorrow.’
‘FINE!’ shouted Hazel. ‘But we brought you back something from the bar. If I leave it out here someone will steal it.’
I got up and dragged myself to the door, and when I opened it, there was Oliver, looking completely dishevelled and tipsy, with Lucy and Hazel on either side, smiling like lunatics. He stepped forward and placed his hand on my stomach.
He grinned. ‘Let’s fucking do this.’
Acknowledgements
I’d like to say a massive thank you to the following people:
My spectacular agent Kerry Glencorse at Susanna Lea Associates and my fabulous editor Kathryn Taussig at Quercus, who believed in my novel from the beginning and who have guided and supported me throughout. Also, to everyone who read my novel at various stages and gave me invaluable feedback.
My wonderful parents Yvonne and Hassan and my sister Claudia for their love, understanding and support and who never once doubted that I’d get there in the end, even when I did. Also to my friends who have encouraged and supported me regardless – I’m very grateful to you all.
Finally to my precious, beautiful daughter Olivia who makes every single day just that little bit brighter and who is never, ever allowed to read this book.
www.quercusbooks.co.uk
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