Whitehall Baby: A Surprise Pregnancy, Fake Relationship Romantic Comedy Perfect for Chick Lit Fans

by Laura Barnard

  ‘Hey, don’t pretend for one second that you’ve been honest with me from the beginning,’ I snarl. ‘We’ve been sleeping together for two weeks and you’ve never once found a time to tell me.’

  Her face falls, her eyes vulnerable again. Shit, I hate making her look like that. It makes my chest tight.

  ‘I meant to. I just…’

  ‘You just what?’ I snap, unable to hide my irritation. This woman has just walked in and fucked my life over.

  She sighs fiddling with her necklace. ‘I wanted to enjoy myself before having to come crashing down into reality.’

  I suppose I can understand that. Last night I was busy enjoying myself. This morning I’m discussing my child with the woman carrying it. Could it be that this was as much a surprise to her as me? It seems to be the case.

  ‘How far gone are you?’

  ‘Twenty-three weeks. Too late for an abortion,’ she adds, as if I was going to ask her to consider it.

  ‘Jesus, you’re over halfway through.’ I grip my hair in my hands, just to have something to hold onto. My life is spinning out of control.

  ‘I’m sorry, but I just couldn’t consider an abortion. But you don’t have to be involved if you don’t want to be. It’s totally fine.’

  I stare back at her in disbelief. ‘Are you fucking joking? Of course I’m going to be involved. Which is why you’re not moving to fucking Devon.’

  I need to calm down and stop swearing, but damn if the caveman in me isn’t coming out. She’s not taking my baby away from me. Sure I might not even want it, but it’s here now and I’m not letting her get away.

  ‘Really?’ she snorts, ‘It’s my only option.’

  ‘No, it’s not. You’ll move in with me.’

  ‘Sorry, what?’ She stares back at me, shaking her head.

  I’m shocked myself. I hadn’t considered it five minutes ago. Now I’m sure with every fibre of my being it’s the right thing to do.

  ‘We get on well enough and you know how much I work. If I’m to see this baby at all you’ll have to live with me. That and at least I can look after you, make sure you’re eating and not commuting every day on an empty stomach.’

  ‘Be careful,’ she warns. ‘You’re starting to sound like you care.’

  I grab her chin and force her to look up at me. Scared, vulnerable hazel eyes meet mine.

  ‘I care. I’m not a heartless bastard.’ Even as I say it I’m not sure that I’m not.

  ‘I’ll have to think about it,’ she says, chewing on her lip.

  I let my hand fall. Yeah, like she has loads of options.

  ‘Fine, you think about it. But when you realise it’s the best plan, I’ll be waiting on the second floor.’

  Charlotte

  ‘He’s such an arrogant arsehole,’ I tell Eloise over the phone at work. If Roger catches me he’ll no doubt go ballistic. He’s a real task master. It doesn’t help that baby brain has kicked in and I keep forgetting stuff.

  ‘I mean, he is right though,’ she tries to reason. ‘You get that don’t you?’

  I sigh. ‘Yes and the practical person in me says it makes sense. He’s down the road from work, I like his apartment, I love his penis.’

  She snorts a laugh.

  ‘But the irrational baby hormone part of me wants to punch him in the face. He basically inadvertently accused me of lying when I said the baby was his last night.’

  ‘You do have to remember that the first night was months ago now.’

  ‘Regardless. It just shows how we still don’t know each other. If he knew me at all he’d know I’m not like that.’

  ‘Well then that’s the perfect reason to move in with him. Get to know him. Let him get to know you.’

  I know she’s right. I just don’t know if I’m ready to uproot my life even further. My back has really started to ache though. A shorter trip home each night does sound nice.

  ‘Plus, this way I don’t lose you to Devon, so you know; win, win.’

  Arthur

  I still haven’t heard from her after lunch when I get an internal post envelope labelled strictly private and confidential. That’s strange. I normally get hand delivered documents of this security level. I pop open the envelope and reach in.

  I pull out a baby scan. Shit. Attached to it is a post it.

  ‘We accept.’

  I can’t hide the grin from exploding on my face. I remove the post it and look at the scan picture. That’s my baby. Shit, that’s crazy. You can see its little legs and what looks like a giant head. Must have a huge brain like its daddy. Shit, I’m going to be a daddy. That’s insane.

  I look at the date. 1st September. I count back the three months. That does seem to be around the first time. Not that I could be certain. But… well, I do trust her. I don’t think she’s a liar.

  This is my baby and I intend to step up to the plate.

  Charlotte

  That’s how I find myself walking into his flat later that evening. I nearly pass out in shock when I find him already sat on the sofa. He smiles, as if waiting for me. My stomach flips inside out. We’re going to have an awkward chat. I can feel it.

  ‘What are you doing here at this time?’

  He smiles. ‘I thought we needed to sit down and have a chat.’

  I knew it.

  The most we’ve talked about these past few weeks is how he got the bump on his nose; fell of a horse as a child—a posh boy injury.

  ‘Right.’ I sigh, dumping my bag and kicking off my heels. Everything aches. I sit down, stretch out my back and wait for him to talk.

  He takes a deep breath, a grave expression on his face. ‘I think we should get married.’

  I cough, caught completely off guard. ‘Sorry, what? You think what?’

  He’s lost his fucking mind.

  ‘I think it’s the most logical step.’

  ‘Why?’ I yawn in his face, unable to suppress the fatigue. I am not rested enough for this conversation.

  ‘Because we’re having a baby. I’m a well-known man in politics. It could be a scandal if I have a baby out of wedlock with a woman I barely know, not least one that is also employed as a PA in my office. But if we announce that we married a while ago in secret the press won’t have much to run with.’

  I stare back at him, open mouthed. Is he fucking serious right now? He’s just worried about his bloody political image.

  ‘Sorry, but less than twenty-four hours ago you didn’t even believe you’re the father. And now you want to marry me?’

  He nods. ‘I just think it’s logical.’

  Just how every girl imagines her marriage proposal; unromantic and logical.

  I shake my head. ‘But I don’t want to get married. I only want to get married if I’m in love.’

  He smiles, as if he finds me adorable. Probably because he doesn’t believe in love. God, we’re so different. Yes I might have divorced parents, but I still believe every person has a soul mate out there. Clearly he’s not mine.

  ‘Think of it as a marriage of convenience then.’

  God, he’s so old fashioned. I’m in a Jane Austen novel.

  I bark a laugh. ‘Err, no. I’m not going to marry you. Especially not if it’s just so you can save face. I’ve told you I can disappear to Devon. There’s no need for me and this baby to be an embarrassment for you.’

  That’s the last thing I want to be. And press? I’ve never bloody heard of the man. I think he’s giving himself too much credit. The press would likely yawn and write something about a Love Island contestant.

  He takes my hand. ‘You’re not. I’m just trying to do the right thing.’

  ‘According to who?’ Damn, I sound mad. ‘Your boss? Society? Because you’re sure as hell not trying to do right by me and the baby. That’s not what I want.’

  ‘Okay, I’m sorry.’ He sighs, running his hand through his hair.

  It’s so curly by the end of the day. I’ve loved running my hands through it, but now I don
’t think it would be appropriate.

  ‘I didn’t mean to offend or upset you,’ he continues. ‘God, that’s the last thing I want to do.’

  He’s made everything awkward now. Or I have… one of us definitely has.

  ‘But I will move in. If that’s still okay.’

  He beams back at me, his mood changing like a swift wind. ‘Good. Actually, I want to show you something.’

  He takes my hand and leads me down the corridor, past his bedroom until we’re at another door I’ve never noticed before. He opens it to a small office.

  ‘This can be the baby’s bedroom.’

  I turn to him confused. ‘You mean my bedroom.’ He doesn’t seriously think I’m going to continue to shag him, does he?

  He frowns. ‘No, you’ll be in my room. With me.’

  I narrow my eyes back at him. ‘I’m sorry, but I think you’ve got things confused. Yes, I’ll be moving in. But no, we won’t be shagging anymore.’

  He raises one eyebrow. ‘Charlotte, we’ve been screwing the last few weeks. We’re having a baby together. You’re moving in. Tell me why you’d be suddenly shy about sleeping in my bed?’

  Well, when he puts it that way I suppose it does make sense. It’s just unclear whether he wants to continue our weird no strings relationship. There are clearly strings now. It could get very messy with our strings tangled beyond repair.

  ‘I just… maybe we’re better off as friends. I don’t want it to get overly complicated.’

  He tucks some hair behind my ear. ‘We got overly complicated a long time ago.’

  Saturday 26th September

  Charlotte

  It’s going to get complicated. Sleeping beside him is only going to let me gaze at his perfect face and feel his body warmth, but not reach out and snuggle into it. We went to bed with no kisses or naughty business so I’m assuming now I’m pregnant he doesn’t want me anymore.

  Today Arthur is introducing me to his parents. And telling them I’m pregnant. He tells me not to worry but I can tell that he’s concerned by the way he’s scratching his neck and tensing his shoulders. If he’s troubled than I definitely should be.

  I find him staring at me as I put my navy coat with flower embroidered arms on. Does he think it’s too much?

  ‘What?’ I can’t help but grin, feeling self-conscious from his gaze.

  ‘I just can’t believe I didn’t notice before.’ He smiles in wonder, comes over and strokes my stomach with his enormous hands. It feels strange to be so intimate. I know we’ve slept together, but this feels different. It’s sweet, not sexy.

  ‘You’re a busy man.’

  He nods. ‘I am indeed. Which is why we need to get this over and done with.’

  We pull up at a London townhouse in Chelsea, far from the suburban semi-detached I grew up in.

  ‘You’re like really rich, then?’ I ask with a gulp, looking up at the impressive four stories. It’s literally like I’ve been dropped into Made in Chelsea.

  He rolls his eyes and performs a perfect parallel park. It’s weird how sexy I find that.

  ‘Come on.’

  He jumps out of the car, runs round to my side to open the door and takes my hand, leading me to the door.

  I get such a rush every time he takes my hand. It feels like I’m his. I wish mine weren’t so sweaty, but I’m dreading this.

  It strikes me that we haven’t discussed our relationship status. They’re bound to ask. I’ll have to just let him take the lead. I gulp, the panic making my mouth dry.

  A man in his early seventies opens the door. Judging from the similar angular jaw it’s his dad, the only major difference his salt and pepper hair. He’s good looking for an older man.

  ‘Hi!’ he says with a warm smile. ‘You must be Charlotte.’

  ‘I am.’ I nod as he shakes my hand and kisses me on the cheek. A charmer just like his son.

  ‘Pleasure to meet you.’

  We bustle into the warmth inside. I follow him down a corridor and then down a set of steps into a huge open plan basement kitchen and lounge. On the sofa is a woman, probably in her sixties. She’s thin and the way she sits ramrod straight makes her look regal. She has a Chanel jacket on from their latest show. Fashionable too.

  ‘Hi,’ I awkwardly wave.

  Arthur smiles. ‘Mum, this is Charlotte.’

  She raises her hand for me to shake in such a way I wonder if she wants me to kiss the back of her hand. Okay, so she’s not as friendly as her husband. That’s fine. I lean forward and shake it. Oooh, strong grip too. Nearly crushed my knuckles.

  We sit down on the sectional sofa. It’s nowhere near as comfy as Arthurs.

  ‘So,’ she says clapping her hands together, as if conducting a board meeting. ‘You wanted us to meet Charlotte. Am I to assume there’s been a proposal?’

  Oh god, how embarrassing. She’s expecting a ring, not a baby.

  He smiles at me, humour in his eyes. ‘I did propose, but she turned me down.’

  His mother’s eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets. ‘Why on earth would you refuse my son?’

  ‘I—’ I start, looking to him for help, forehead sweating. Way to throw me to the sharks.

  ‘That’s not important,’ he says quickly. ‘The reason we’re here is that we’re… expecting a baby.’

  His dad pales, all colour rinsing from his face so quick I fear he’ll faint. His mum just remains very still, while what looks like a million cogs turn behind the scenes.

  ‘A baby? How long have you been together?’ Her eyes narrow in suspicion. It’s clear she’s trying to tamper down her rising temper. Her face is growing red, even though she still remains stoic, her hands clenched together so tightly they’re turning white.

  ‘Not long,’ he answers vaguely, avoiding her direct eye line. ‘That’s why she said no. She doesn’t want us to get married just because of the baby.’

  She starts breathing heavily. A rash blooms across her neck. Shit, I hope she’s not having some kind of allergic reaction.

  ‘I’m sorry, darling, I’m just having trouble processing this.’ She clutches at her temples like a migraine is forming. ‘I assume it wasn’t planned?’

  We both shake our heads. It’s pretty obvious it wasn’t. I feel like a sixteen-year-old child being chastised, not a thirty-one-year-old.

  ‘How far along are you?’ His dad asks, looking towards my stomach.

  Is he asking because he wants me to get rid of it?

  I swallow, my tongue quivering. ‘I’m twenty-three weeks.’

  ‘Jesus,’ his mum exclaims, losing her cool. ‘And this is the first we learn about it?’

  Arthur rolls his eyes. ‘Yes, Mother. It’s still pretty new. We’re just getting used to it ourselves.’ Thank god he didn’t tell her he only just found out himself. Then she’d really despise me.

  ‘And this is what you want?’ she asks him, her face crinkled up in revulsion.

  ‘Yes, Mother,’ he says through gritted teeth. ‘Obviously it’s not ideal, but we’re making the best of the situation.’

  That is what he’s doing isn’t it? Just making the best of a bad situation. I clutch my bump protectively. We don’t want to be referred to as a situation. This is my worst nightmare.

  ‘I did tell Arthur that he didn’t have to be involved if he didn’t want to be,’ I offer, wanting to explain that I gave him a get out.

  She rolls her eyes. ‘Yes, but you are the one who made the decision to keep the pregnancy. He’s hardly going to be able to turn you away now, is he? Not much of a choice.’

  ‘Mother,’ he warns, narrowing his eyes at her. ‘Be nice.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she says, sounding anything but. Her rash is climbing to her jaw line now. She stands up and begins to pace. ‘I’m just finding it hard to adapt to you being trapped by a random woman we know nothing about.’

  ‘She’s not a random woman,’ he snaps jumping up to stand. ‘And if you’re not happy for us, that’s fine. I su
ggest you either get on board or lose us all together.’

  He takes my hand. ‘Come on.’

  I look back apologetically as he pulls me out. I don’t want to come between him and his parents. Even if his mother is the devil incarnate.

  When we get in the car I burst into tears, no longer able to contain the damn of emotion brewing in my chest. These hormones are making me unhinged. I never normally cry. Well, I mean obviously during sad films… and some commercials, but never in front of people. Not even when I was eleven and my parents were getting divorced.

  ‘Hey,’ he soothes, rubbing my arm. ‘Don’t worry about them. It’s a new situation. People are going to be shocked and have opinions. Just ignore them.’

  There he goes calling us a situation again. He doesn’t realise he’s the one hurting me. Thing is, I don’t even blame him.

  Monday 28th September

  Arthur

  Well meeting my parents couldn’t have gone worse. She’s been so low since. It’s only a matter of time before the press get wind of it so I’ve asked my PI to investigate her. Just purely so I know if she’s holding back any skeletons in the closet. Just the usual background checks I’d do on anyone I chose to directly employ.

  Reggie, a short thin man in his fifties, walks into my office with a confident handshake.

  ‘Let’s get straight to it, shall we?’ I say as soon as he’s sat down in front of me.

  ‘Right.’ He takes out his notebook. ‘Her background check came back completely clean. A few funny pictures on her Instagram but apart from that she’s very normal.’

  I release a breath I didn’t realise I was holding. Thank God for that.

  ‘Her last relationship was over a year ago,’ he continues. ‘A Joshua Moore. Ended amicably.’

  That’s good news too.

  ‘The only thing I could find…’

  Oh shit. Just when I thought it was going well.

  ‘Is that her parents had a pretty volatile relationship.’

  I nod. That’s not a shock to me.