by Rosie Nixon
I had been intrigued to see Oscar and, from what I could see, he was certainly allaying any worries Lucy previously had to do with whether he was ready to be a dad again. He seemed to ooze enthusiasm and Lucy looked justifiably proud.
A dark, nagging concern about Jason’s readiness for fatherhood and his unpredictability descended on me again. I pulled my phone out of my jeans pocket and checked it. No more messages from him. No indication of whether or not he was coming back, never mind an apology for leaving me here alone yet again.
As the class came to an end, Maggie reminded us that there was only one group session left. I couldn’t quite believe we were soon going to be left to fend for ourselves. Lucy had suggested earlier in the week that we should decamp to the local pub after today’s meeting. Part of me wanted to go home, but I was still so furious with Jason that another part of me wanted to punish him. Perhaps the pub was a good idea. Leave him wondering where I had got to, for once. Although the idea of a heavily pregnant woman going on a bender was ridiculous.
‘Coming for the drinks?’ Lucy asked hopefully. I noticed a frown across her forehead. The fact that she was clearly holding out for me to go helped make up my mind.
‘Sure,’ I replied, as breezily as possible, pulling my cardigan off the back of my chair and gathering up my things.
I stuck it out for a whole hour before excusing myself to go to the bathroom, where I sat on the loo going over the events of today. Jason still hadn’t even bothered to send me another text. I was gripped by anxiety again and couldn’t help thinking about the day I told him I was pregnant. Was this weird behaviour another sign he wasn’t up to the challenge of fatherhood? I tried to distract myself by scrolling blankly through my Facebook feed and randomly liking things, until I decided it was now a respectable time to claim I felt tired and face Jason. One advantage of pregnancy was always having an excuse to leave a rubbish party.
When I got home, Jason was already in bed, AirPods in his ears, watching something on his phone. It was unusual for him to be so subdued. Perhaps sensing he was in the dog house, he didn’t say anything, but watched me for a while as I moved around the room, taking off my jewellery and changing out of my clothes. It irritated me that he had got into bed without even closing the curtains, so I pulled them together loudly, making the point.
Finally, he took a bud out of one ear. ‘Everything okay?’ he asked. I noticed he looked pale.
‘Shouldn’t I be asking you that question?’ I said, feeling the familiar tightening in my chest. Jason had pushed things too far today, with his unreliability. It made me seriously question his readiness for all this.
‘I didn’t feel well,’ he said morosely.
I knew there had to be more to it, but I was tired and not in the mood to start a big conversation right now. I went into the kitchen and ate some dinner on my own. We went to sleep in silence.
Chapter Fifteen
Aisha
Sunday 9th May
I woke up the next morning to a WhatsApp message from Lucy. She had sent it late the evening before.
Lucy: Hey, just checking how you and Jason are? Hope all ok.
I spent a while considering how to respond. I was so angry that Jason had put me in this position, where I had no option but to lie to my new friend in order to cover up my embarrassment and shame that I had had no idea he was not coming back to The Baby Group yesterday. I eventually responded:
Me: Yes, all good. Jase had a funny turn, think he’s coming down with the man flu!
Lucy: Oh dear, sorry to hear that. Nothing’s as bad as man flu. Fancy another coffee and croissant this week? Maybe in town this time, while we can?
Me: I’m actually meeting a friend at Selfridges tomorrow, for tea and a look round the baby department. You’re welcome to join us?
Lucy: Sounds great, love to! I’ve got to pop into the office first thing, but I’ve got some holiday to use up, so I’ll take off the afternoon. Just let me know what time. Lx
Monday 10th May
With less than two weeks until my due date, I was feeling nervous about travelling too far from home on my own. The possibility of my waters breaking, a ‘show’, or the onset of contractions in a public place, when I wasn’t in easy reach of our house or with Jason, scared me. But with Jason’s unreliability reaching new heights in the last few days, I was starting to think that Lucy cared more about me anyway. She was certainly looking out for me more than he was right now. I hadn’t seen Tara for a few weeks, so when she had suggested taking a day off work for a shopping trip to the Selfridges baby department, followed by tea and macaroons in the Foodhall, I decided there was safety in travelling as a pair. Plus I really needed to speak to someone about Jason. I told Lucy to meet us slightly later, in The White Company concession, so Tara and I could talk before she arrived.
Tara kindly offered to get an Uber from Crystal Palace to Clapham Common station so we could get the Tube into town together. She greeted me with a hug so warm and familiar it made my eyes water on the spot. I felt a lump in my throat that no amount of deep breaths and light-hearted chat about what her kids had been up to could make go away. As we sat next to each other in the Tube carriage, travelling towards Stockwell, her eyes landed upon my face and settled there. She read me like an open book.
‘You’re not your usual bubbly self Aish, what’s up? Is it Jason?’
I nodded in response.
‘Is he working too much again?’
‘He’s still doing all the extra hours available, but there’s more to it than that, Tara,’ I said. My eyes filled with tears. She took my hand in hers. I noticed a woman sat opposite register that I was on the brink of crying and felt a pang of shame. She smiled sympathetically at me. It wasn’t a healthy look for a heavily pregnant woman to be in tears, unless she’s in labour. It was just a pity that my husband had barely noticed how close to the edge of despair I was.
‘You can tell me,’ Tara continued, reaching into her bag for a pack of tissues and placing them in my lap.
‘I just don’t think he’s ready. For fatherhood. And I’m scared,’ I uttered hesitantly. They were such big words to say aloud.
The train stopped at Stockwell and we stood up to cross the platform onto the Victoria Line. I swallowed hard and wiped a rogue tear from my eye with one of the tissues.
‘Maybe I could speak to him?’ Tara offered. I knew it pained her to see me like this.
‘I don’t think he’ll listen,’ I replied.
‘Or perhaps I could ask Hugo to take him out for a beer? Maybe he’ll open up to him?’
I shrugged; it was sweet of her to make suggestions, but Jason and Hugo weren’t close. Besides, deep down, I knew this was mine and Jason’s situation to work out.
We were making cooing noises around The White Company baby clothes, when I spotted Lucy walking towards us.
‘Fancy bumping into you! Literally,’ she joked, as we embraced each other and our bumps touched. My middle felt especially massive now, so black had become my staple colour. Lucy looked great in a leopard print coat and her trademark red lipstick. She was holding a cashmere onesie in each hand, one grey, one navy.
‘Aren’t they cute?’ She cocked her head, to take a closer look at one of them. ‘Found them in the Ralph Lauren sale area. I still can’t get my head around the fact that they’re going to be filled with an actual baby soon.’
‘They’re gorgeous, you should get them both,’ I replied, before turning to Tara. ‘This is Lucy, from The Baby Group.’
‘Really? I’d never have guessed!’ Tara rolled her eyes sarcastically.
‘Guilty,’ Lucy smiled, looking down at her bump, which was poking out of the coat. ‘This thing is a bit of a giveaway.’
‘This is Tara,’ I continued, ‘one of my oldest friends. We met at primary school.’
Tara smiled warmly and held out a hand, which Lucy shook enthusiastically.
‘Lovely to meet you. I could go wild in here,’ Lucy said, replacing
one of the cashmeres on a nearby rail. ‘I need restraining.’
‘Me too,’ I replied, thinking Lucy really could go wild in here if her Gucci handbag and the fact Oscar ran his own company was anything to go by.
I suggested we go to the Foodhall to take the weight off our swollen ankles.
Over mint tea and macaroons, Lucy explained how Oscar would be working flat out this week and going on his last work trip before the baby, so she’d be home alone most of the time. I told her she could call me if she needed anything and Jason and I would try to help. I got the impression she didn’t have family nearby. She had never mentioned them.
‘How’s Jason coping with the man flu?’ she asked. My instinct told me she had sensed things hadn’t been quite right between Jason and I that day.
‘Still pretty bad. But he’s dragged himself into work today, so he’ll live, I expect,’ I replied. ‘We’re both asleep by nine o’clock most nights at the moment, so I’m sure he’ll manage to sleep it off.’
‘Sounds familiar,’ Lucy said. ‘Oscar and I had a “date night” last night. It involved a Chinese takeaway that gave me chronic heartburn, so I had Gaviscon for dessert and then I fell asleep half an hour into a film. Rock and roll.’
‘Ladies, I hate to burst the beautiful baby bubble, but a takeaway and a film will be a hot date night for the next, ooh, eighteen years. Welcome to your new life!’ Tara giggled. ‘Anyway, I’ve got to dash, I need to get back in time to pick the boys up from nursery. You take care of each other okay, no dashing around or buying up the whole macaroon display. I know what your sweet tooth is like, Aisha.’ She looked at me affectionately. ‘And you two preggos will travel back to Clapham together, right?’ Lucy and I nodded obediently. ‘Good. Lovely meeting you, Lucy. Look after each other!’ And she rushed off.
We finished our macaroons and ordered seconds. I figured I already weighed the same as a Smart car, so a few more macaroons wouldn’t hurt. I got the impression Lucy wasn’t in any hurry to get home either. A couple of times she looked like she was weighing up whether or not to tell me something.
‘It was weird the other day, in the meeting,’ she offered at last. I bristled, thinking for a moment that she was referring to Jason’s behaviour; that she was going to pry. ‘Having Oscar there. I found it weird.’
I visibly sighed with relief that she wasn’t going to interrogate me; I didn’t feel strong enough today, to continue pretending everything was okay. But the idea that perhaps there was a chink in her seemingly perfect relationship gave me a little comfort.
‘Weird, in what way?’ I asked.
‘Because this baby was made differently—’ she stopped herself abruptly mid-sentence, her eyes a little watery and her cheeks flushed all of a sudden. I leant forward, studying her, wondering what was coming next. ‘He’s… an IVF baby.’
A waitress came over and refilled our tea cups from the pot between us.
‘You told me, and that’s not unusual,’ I said lightly, trying to make her feel at ease. I could tell she wanted to talk but I knew better than to push her. Lucy seemed quite fragile today. Her eyes were reddening. She sat up straight in an effort to pull her emotions into check.
‘This probably isn’t the right time or place. I just – well I don’t really have many other people to talk to.’
‘It’s fine to talk. I’m all ears, if you want to.’
‘What I didn’t tell you the other day, in Gail’s, is that Oscar and I were actually on a break when I found out I was pregnant.’ I sat up straighter, intrigued. She was certainly full of secrets. ‘It was a tough time, you know. The IVF was under way, but he got cold feet. He panicked, big time, and called it off.’
‘Oh that’s awful. What a thing for him to do. It must have been such a tough time for you,’ I sympathized. ‘You must have been devastated. But you obviously got back together?’
‘Yes, on the first day of my second trimester. Oscar changed his mind. He told me breaking up with me was his “biggest regret”. Said he was determined to be there for me and the baby, and would pay me attention like never before.’
‘Was it easy to forgive him?’
She thought for a moment.
‘Aisha, as you probably know, all relationships reach a point where you have to think with your head as well as your heart. I know from friends that bringing up a child isn’t easy and I already knew that Oscar was a great dad; he has a fantastic, close and loving relationship with his children Evie and Ollie, and although he is probably a little rusty, I figure he can probably still remember how to change a nappy, with some practice. Plus we have great sex.’
I squirmed. I’d always been prudish about talking about either my own, or other people’s sex lives, especially in public.
Lucy didn’t seem to mind though. ‘We’re definitely compatible in the bedroom. I mean, it wasn’t easy at first, but he really did mean it this time, I could tell. I came to the realization that good things often come after a fight and the best things are worth waiting for.’ She stopped in her tracks, as if afraid she might have said something shocking, or out of turn. ‘Sorry, is this too much?’
‘No, not at all,’ I replied. ‘I’m intrigued.’
‘We began seeing each other properly again – there were trips to the theatre, days out visiting art galleries and a couple of weekends away at country spa hotels. The sex was unreal. Turns out I’ve never felt sexier than with these curves. I was five months gone when he asked if we could become a bona fide couple and move in together. Neither of us wanted to waste any more time.’
‘Wow,’ I said, enthralled. ‘So are you happy now?’
‘Yes, we are. I love him. He’s close enough to the full package.’ She shrugged.
I giggled. ‘And “close enough” is all any of us can ask for, right?’ She had, at least, made me feel a little better about Jason and me, by reminding me that all relationships go through difficult times and ‘close enough’ is sometimes, enough.
‘Sorry if I went on a bit, I hadn’t planned to come out with all that; to get heavy,’ she said.
‘It’s not heavy,’ I reassured her. ‘Anyway, we’re friends, aren’t we?’
She smiled, and for a moment I thought she had tears in her eyes. To think, when we first met I assumed she had everything figured out. It occurred to me that perhaps she was lonely.
Tara texted me later on:
Tara: Lucy seems lovely. Really down to earth.
Me: Yes, I think we could be good friends.
Tara: But not besties, I hope. I knew you first, remember?! Xx
Me: Of course Ax
Chapter Sixteen
Lucy
When I got home from town, I found a note from Oscar on the breakfast bar: ‘Popped out to meet a potential new client. Will be home by 7. O.’
I set down the two yellow Selfridges bags. I felt so exhausted, I was glad he wasn’t home. Shopping normally gave me such a buzz and today I had been fairly extravagant spending more than I planned to on 0–3 month items – some of them as pricey as adult’s clothing – but instead of feeling elated, I felt wrung out. The conversation with Aisha had left me feeling conflicted. I had planned to take one of the bags upstairs, unpack its contents and put it neatly away in the nursery, before Oscar could ask too many questions, but I felt too tired.
I took off my coat and shoes and filled the kettle before glancing at the oven clock: 4.25. I had a while before he’d be back. I made myself a peppermint tea and sat on the sofa, flicking through a magazine, but failing to properly concentrate on anything.
I felt the baby kick and decided to head upstairs. When I passed the spare room, I stopped. My legs were aching; we’d been on the go for most of the day. I sat on the edge of the spare bed and looked out of the window at the backs of the houses beyond our little garden. The buildings might be tightly packed around here, but the view was still pretty. The house directly behind ours was partially covered in ivy, and from an open window I could hear the soft
tinkle of piano keys.
I took a sip from the mug of tea I’d brought upstairs with me, and looked towards the desk in the corner of the room. A piece of paper was poking out of the middle drawer of the filing cabinet beneath it, stopping it from closing properly. I stood up and gently pushed it back in. A blue folder behind it prevented it from sliding in easily. Its little plastic header caught my eye; it was written by Oscar and entitled ‘Divorce Docs’. I pulled out the file. Oscar had shown me his divorce certificate before, but I still found it morbidly fascinating to look at.
In the High Court of Justice Principal
Registry of the Family Division
Between PHILIPPA JANE BRIGHT Petitioner
And OSCAR LEOPALD BRIGHT Respondent
On 10 May 2019
I noticed goosebumps appear on my arm as I realized it was two years ago to the day. I recalled how the reason for the breakdown of this marriage had been squared at Oscar, basically for working too hard and being absent.
And now we had set up a home together. We shared a filing cabinet. A joint bank account. There was a baby on the way. Although I was very grateful for the life I had with Oscar, there would always be a niggling doubt about whether he really wanted any more children and what he would be like when the baby arrived.
I placed the folder back into the drawer and had almost closed it, when another large file grabbed my attention. This time the label was in my handwriting: ‘IVF Docs’. I remembered writing it. I lifted the folder out, coming across a few printouts of correspondence I had had with the fertility clinic in the run up to having IVF. There were some leaflets they had given me about pre- and post-procedure care when I had begun the process; I had dutifully kept them filed away for future reference, although I’d never actually read them again. As I flicked through, my heart began to race. I stroked my bump as I remembered how badly I had wanted this pregnancy. How much time, effort, heartache and money had gone into producing this unborn child.