by Izzy Bayliss
“Yeah – they’re great kids.” He sounded wistful.
“Is em . . . everything alright, Marc?”
“With me? Yeah, I’m doing alright.”
“You just don’t sound yourself?”
“I’m cool and the gang.”
“Okay, well I’d better go then.” I had read countless books on relationships and they all agreed that the person who ended the phone conversation first had the upper hand.
“Oh, okay, well, Lily, it was good to talk to you. Really good.”
“Yeah you too, Marc,” I said hanging up.
There was definitely something wrong with him. I wasn’t just imagining it.
Chapter 18
That evening Frankie and I had arranged to meet Joannah for dinner in Café Le Monde. It was Jo’s first night leaving baby Noah, and I could tell she was nervous, but three phone calls home and two glasses of wine later she was finally starting to relax.
The waiter had just cleared the plates from our main course away, and we were waiting for our desserts.
“Sorry, ladies, but I have to go pump and dump,” Joannah said standing up from the table.
“What?” Frankie asked.
“Y’know because she’s breastfeeding, Noah,” I said.
“But where have you put the pump?” Frankie asked looking around the room. I think she was expecting to see a bicycle pump somewhere.
“It’s in my bag,” she said giving it a tap and laughing at Frankie’s horrified face as she walked off towards the toilets.
Frankie might have been horrified, but I was in awe that she was such a good mother, doing her best for baby Noah. I really hoped that would be me one day.
I took my phone out from my clutch bag to check it and I saw there was a message from Marc:
“It was really good to talk to you earlier, Lily. Goodnight xxx”
He had even used my kisses hierarchy. OMG.
I handed the phone to Frankie.
“Well?” I asked, after she still had said nothing.
“Well, I think you’re right. It does seem as though he is having second thoughts alright.”
“Really? So I’m not just imagining it?” I asked giddily.
“But, Lily after everything he’s done, do you really want him back?” She placed both her hands on the table and leaned forward to me.
“Well it's not that simple . . .” I said defensively.
“Really? Isn't it?” Frankie seemed disappointed in me, but she didn’t understand. Frankie’s longest relationship had lasted a whopping six months, and that was because she got bored. She had finished it because Anton wanted to get more serious, so she had run a mile. When they had first started seeing each other, he would stay over in hers one or two nights a week, but soon he was looking for more. After a weekend together, he would call in on his way home from work on a Monday, and then again on a Tuesday evening. So Frankie had quickly put a stop to that. Poor Anton had been devastated – he was a lovely guy but he was just looking for more than Frankie was able to give. Frankie had heard that he had met another girl soon after they broke up and they were now engaged. She was happy for him. She wasn’t like me, she loved her independence but I hated being on my own. Plus Marc was my husband after all.
“We were married, Frankie – are married – it’s not that simple,” I said miffed. She had never been married. It wasn’t black and white.
“Look you know I’ll support you either way – it’s your decision, but I just don’t want you to get hurt again. Look how far you’ve come? I’d hate for you to go back to that broken woman that you were when he first walked out on you.”
“What’s going on?” Joannah asked, sitting back down at the table.
“Lily has received a text from Marc.”
“I didn’t realise you were back in contact?”
“We weren’t until the other day. He just phoned me up out of the blue and we’ve been talking a few times since.”
I handed her the phone and she read the text.
“Wow, Lily – it sounds like he wants you back!”
She was happy for me, I could tell.
“Do you not think though, Jo after all he has done, there’s no going back?” Frankie turned towards her.
“Well, it’s not that simple, Frankie – they were married after all. He deserves a second chance,” Joannah said, echoing me.
“Exactly!” I said. She understood because she was also married.
“Well not if he was my husband,” Frankie retorted.
“Can you not just be happy for me?”
“Lily, if that’s what you want, then I am happy for you. Of course I am. Just be careful is all I’m saying.”
“Of course I will.” I took another sip of wine. I couldn’t escape the giddy feeling in my head. I began to text him back.
“You’re not texting him back already?” Frankie asked looking at the message I was in the middle of typing.
“Well yeah, why not?”
“God at least wait a while. You don’t want him to think you’re just sitting there watching your phone the whole time.”
“But I am.”
“Look, give it an hour and then just say something like ‘Night Marc,’ no kisses.”
“No kisses?”
“What do you think?” I turned to Joannah.
“Frankie’s right – you have him where you want him, now you just have to play it cool.”
“But I hate playing it cool – I’m the uncoolest person I know.”
“Don’t we know it,” Frankie started to laugh. “Seriously, Lily, just be careful.”
Chapter 19
Later that night as I slept in deep, wine-induced sleep, I dreamed a strange dream where Frankie had invented a new-fangled breast pump that also doubled up as a bicycle pump, and was doing door-to-door sales targeting it at sporty mothers.
I thought I heard the doorbell, but I wasn’t sure if it was Frankie ringing another doorbell in my dream. I opened my eyes and looked at my clock – it was 9.54 a.m. Then I heard it again, there was no mistaking it – it was definitely real. I began to panic. Who on earth would be calling to me so early on a Saturday morning? Everyone I knew lived in town, Ballyrobin was miles away for anyone to be just passing. Then I started to worry – I hoped nothing was wrong. I jumped out of bed and wrapped my humongous dressing gown around me and hurried out to the door. My heart was thumping. Nervously I looked through the peephole to make sure it wasn’t an axe-murderer trying to kill me, but instead I saw Frankie standing there, her face looking strangely round through the glass.
I took off the chain to let her in.
“Frankie? I was just dreaming about you!”
“You were?”
“You had invented a breast pump that doubled as a bicycle pump – I'd patent it if I were you.”
She looked at me quizzically. “Sit down, Lily, I have something I need to show you.” Her voice was serious.
“What is it?” I asked suddenly feeling panicked. I made my way over to the sofa and sat down. She took off her khaki parka jacket to reveal a yellow and blue silk tunic over grey skinny jeans and her Isabel Marant trainers. The same outfit on me would look like I was just a lazy scruff, but on Frankie it looked cool and effortless.
“Here.” She handed me the latest issue of Social Importance magazine. “You had better read this.” I saw the headline instantly: “Nadia and Marc’s Baby Joy – Read Their Exclusive Interview Inside!” I couldn't believe it. The two of them were on the front cover again, with Marc sitting behind Nadia on the sofa and both their hands protectively holding her non-existent bump. It felt like a kick to the stomach.
The magazine practically fell open at the centre-page spread, as I quickly read through it to see what wonderful PR spin Marc and Nadia were spouting out of them now.
Actress Nadia Williams and her partner Marc Glover will soon be hearing the patter of little feet after her announcement that they are expecting a baby together. Congratulations, Nadi
a, can you tell us how you felt when you first found out that you were expecting a baby?
Nadia: “When the test first turned positive it was such a shock – but a good one. We hadn’t sat down and planned to have a baby, but it was the best surprise I could have asked for. I couldn’t wait to tell Marc, and when he came home that evening I handed him the stick, of course he didn’t know what it was,” Nadia explains as she laughs good-naturedly. “When we had the first scan, I cried. I couldn’t believe there was an actual baby kicking away inside me, and yet I couldn’t feel a thing. Having a baby really is one of life’s miracles.”
And Dad-to-be, Marc, can you tell us about the moment you found out you were going to be a father?
Marc: “I was in complete shock – I still am. I am in awe of the whole thing. I’ve always loved children, so to find out I’m having one of my own is such a blessing. I can’t believe a little person will be calling us Mummy and Daddy. This baby is going to be the biggest responsibility of my life, and I’m ready for that,” said the actor, who is clearly besotted with the nation’s sweetheart.
My blood was boiling – he didn’t “love” children. He tolerated them. This was such bullshit, especially after all the text messages he had sent me this week.
Nadia, pregnancy obviously suits you – tell us how have you been feeling?
Nadia: “Well I was very sick for the first three months, but I’ve had a real burst of energy in the last few weeks. Marc has been great – just the other night he scoured Dublin at midnight to find a shop that was open because I was desperately craving Hula Hoops. He’s really minding me.”
“I feel so protective over her now,” Marc adds as he gazes adoringly at the glowing Mum-to-be.
Nadia: “I’ve just started to feel the first kicks, and it’s a fantastic, wonderful feeling. The baby kicks me when I’m rushing around and stressing out – it’s as if it’s saying to me, ‘slow down, Mummy’.”
Admirably Nadia isn’t going to go down the birthing route favoured by most celebrity mums:
Nadia: “I want to have as natural a birth as possible – I’m in training for the birth at the moment. I’m reading up on everything I can. I’m doing pilates and yoga and lots of walking and swimming. I’m also practising visualising my baby’s entrance into this world to make it a calm and enriching experience for all three of us.”
I flicked to the next page, where there was a picture of them both holding hands and standing beside an empty cot.
The couple has decided on an animal theme for the nursery after Nadia’s love of animals. They have already commissioned Kip St Clement, who counts Kate Moss and Victoria Beckham among her clients, to custom design furniture.
And will you be present at the birth, Marc?
Marc: “Absolutely. This is one of the most important moments of our lives and I want to be there to welcome our little one into the world.”
“I don’t know, we’ll see,” he laughs when asked if he will cut the cord?
Was this the same Marc who fainted when he got a verruca removed last year?
The last page in the spread had a photo of a serene Nadia standing to the side with her head bowed in thought. She was barefoot on grass, and her hands cupped the underside of her bump. The caption underneath was “My life feels complete now – it’s me, Marc and our little baby”.
I was raging after reading it. Here he was playing happy families with Nadia and acting like he was Mr Nice, whereas in reality nothing could be further from the truth. It should have been me. It should be Marc and I having a baby not her. Why did all the good things have to happen for them, after he had treated me so badly? Where was my happy ending?
“Oh, Frankie,” I sobbed. “I've been such a fool.” I knew she wasn’t the kind of friend to say “I told you so,” but still, she had been right all along and I hadn’t wanted to listen to her advice. She had been able to see what I couldn’t. “You were right,” I mumbled eating a large slice of humble pie. “He’s such a dick.”
“I really wish I wasn’t right though,” she said kindly. “This is one time I had hoped you’d prove me wrong.” She sighed. “Try not to let it get to you – they have publicists and PRs putting the words into their mouths and telling them all the right things to say. I’ve been on shoots where they spout such lovey dovey nonsense and then as soon as the interview is over they literally start killing each other. It’s just the way the industry works.”
“But if they only knew he was texting me last night!”
“You could sell your story – get revenge and solve your money worries in one go?”
“Nah – I’d be too chicken shit. It just hurts. People go through break-ups and separations every day, but they don’t have to watch their husband splashed across glossy magazines with his now pregnant girlfriend.”
“You're doing so well, Lily, look how far you've come. It won't always hurt this much. And aren't you glad that you aren't Nadia? Imagine bringing a baby into the world with someone like him?”
I knew Frankie was right, but it still was painful. It was hard to accept the mistake I had made in marrying Marc, and to let go of my romantic image of our relationship, which Marc had clearly proven hadn't been like that at all.
Frankie and I had spent the rest of the day lounging around talking it over and over. She had hugged me as I had sobbed my heart out at the unjustness of it all.
“Come on, we're going out tonight,” she said eventually.
“I'm sorry, do you mind if we don't, Frankie? I couldn't face it –” All I wanted to do was curl up into a self-pitying ball.
“Come on, get out of those pyjamas. Go into your room and get changed,” she ordered.
“You're so bossy, you know I have some pretty big problems in my life right now in case you hadn't noticed!” I said sulkily.
“So why make saggy pyjama bottoms another one? Go on, off you go now!”
I did as I was told and changed into a cream shift dress and black heels. I didn't even bother trying to curl my wispy hair.
Frankie drove us back into town, and we left her car in her car park before walking to the wine bar around the corner.
There were a few trendy looking couples sharing cheese boards and sipping wine as we entered the dimly lit bar.
“You choose something, Lily, I need to use the loo,” Frankie said.
“But what if I choose something awful? I don't know anything about wine.”
“I trust you,” Frankie said with a wink, leaving me to sit down at a cosy table and quickly scan the wine menu that the sommelier handed to me. I pretended that I knew what I was ordering by picking the second cheapest red wine on the list. I sat back into the leather tub chair and eyed up the little bowl of olives that he had left on the table. I hated olives – they were evil little green things.
The sommelier returned, and made a big display of presenting the bottle to me to check it was correct before opening it with his corkscrew. Then he folded his left arm behind his back before using his right hand to pour a small glass for me to sample. I always hated this bit – I felt he was watching me for my complete lack of wine knowledge to be exposed. I swirled the glass a bit like I had seen people do somewhere once, and then took a little sip. It tasted good to me, so he poured the glass fully and left me to get stuck into my vino.
I instantly started to relax as I breathed in the heady aromas of whatever fancy grapes went into making the wine.
Two bottles later, and we were the last ones left in the bar. The staff were starting to clean up around our feet, so we finally took the hint and left. The wine had made us giddy, and we were in the mood for more. As we went out into the night air the effect of the alcohol hit me hard, and suddenly I was feeling drunk. We walked up and down South William Street, but most places had stopped serving and were busy folding up tables and stacking chairs to get ready for the next day.
“This is shite, our capital city and I can’t get a drink after midnight!” Frankie complained loudly
.
Just then we saw a gang of men making their way down tiny metal steps leading to a basement. They were all dressed in suits, with the top button open and loosened ties. They were obviously work colleagues celebrating something. Their laughter was loud, and they were all well on.
“That’s where we’ll go,” I said pointing towards them.
We made our way down to the basement, our heels clanging off the metal steps. We entered the tiny room where there were only four small tables. The place was practically in darkness except for a small lamp sitting on the bar. I could see that the walls were painted a deep red, and a purple tasselled curtain hung on the back wall. Beside it was a handwritten sign, which said, “toilet.” I made up my mind there and then that no matter how badly I needed to go, I would cross my legs and hold it.
Frankie looked around warily. “I don't like the look of this place. What if it's a sex-den?” she whispered.
My eyes scanned the darkness of the room and I suddenly realised where we were. “It's a karaoke bar!” I cheered giddily.
“Are you sure?” Frankie said as she took in the dodgy surroundings.
“Of course – I love karaoke.” If I could ever wish to be blessed with a talent, well then singing would be it. If I had even a hint of a note in my head I would audition for the X-factor. I’d probably even be able to coast through to Judge’s Houses on the back of my sob story with Marc.
One of the men from the group got up straight away to sing Queen’s We are the Champions while I went to the bar and ordered two double vodkas for Frankie and myself. Another sang ACDC Thunderstruck, complete with air guitar accompaniment and knee skids, and before I knew it he threw the mic at me and all eyes were waiting on me expectantly. I was well tanked up at that stage so I gladly claimed the mic and hopped up on the stage. I chose Madonna’s Like a Prayer and Frankie came up beside me to do the Gospel choir bit. The lads cheered us on. Next we did Wilson Philip’s Hold On, before we passed the mic back to another of the lads who did Nirvana’s Smells like Teen Spirit while we all clapped wildly. It had been so long since I had had this much fun. One of them came back with a tray of shots for all of us and we knocked them back. Frankie had caught up with me, and she got up to do Lady GaGa’s Poker Face. Frankie then did a duet of Islands in the Stream with one of the lads. As I watched them I started to think of Marc and all that had happened. I started to feel a bit morose. I went up and requested Tammy Wynette’s D-I-V-O-R-C-E. As I took to the stage and sang the first few lines, I could see the lads looking at me as they tried to place the song. I kept going until I got to the chorus: “Our D-I-V-O-R-C-E becomes final today/Me and little J-O-E will be goin' away”. I belted my heart out with real emotion. I started thinking about poor little Joe, and felt awful for the poor child, and then I remembered that I didn’t have a little Joe or any children for that matter. And then that made me even sadder. I know people always say “at least there are no children involved,” but the truth was, as selfish as it may seem, I sometimes wished there were kids involved. I wished I still had a part of him, any part, and maybe if we had had children together he wouldn’t have done that to me. If we had kids he would have to call to see them. I would get to see him; I would know what he was doing, what his plans were. Hell the little buggers could be like mini-spies into his life with Nadia for me. I don’t remember much after that, because the next thing I knew I was lying in Frankie’s clashing pink and orange spare room, the same one I had stayed in the night Marc had left and I thought I was going to die. Why did I always end up in that room when I was hungover? It was the worst possible place you could be with a hangover. Every nerve ending, every synapse was in a heightened sense of pain and my entire body ached. I tried to open my eyelids, but it was too painful and my brain felt as though it was pounding against my skull. There was an awful taste in my mouth of stale alcohol. I fell back asleep for a while longer and when I woke again I still felt no better. Soon after I began to feel sick, and stumbled out of Frankie’s bed and ran into the bathroom just in time to vomit.