Please God, I pray. I’ll do anything. Just don’t have me shit myself in public. I’ve gone thirty-one years without this level of humiliation, I don’t want to start now. Not when I’m with Arthur.
The sweat is pouring off my forehead. Arthur keeps running to keep up with me. He needs to fuck off. He cannot witness this.
‘Leave me alone!’ I shout with barred teeth.
‘I don’t understand. What did I do?’ he asks, blinking rapidly.
‘This isn’t about you,’ I growl.
Oh god, now I feel nauseous too, sick creeping up my oesophagus. If I vomit at the same time as shitting I will die. Actually die.
Dying would be easier than this, surely.
I see it! I see the toilet sign. It’s within sight. I’ve never been so pleased to see that little woman in a dress sign. Don’t shit yourself now, Charlotte. You’re so near the end. The win is within sight.
Arthur is still running after me, asking me all kinds of questions, but I can’t even look at him right now, let alone listen to him. I need to focus on just this one task: not pooing my pants.
I’m here. Halleluiah. I’m at the toilets. I run through the door but all that greets me is the longest hallway in the world. I’m doomed.
I sprint down it, already tugging at the elastic of my legging. It’s happening. It’s starting to happen. I have no control over it. I’m losing my fucking mind.
‘Charlotte!’ Arthur shouts at me, his voice echoing down the corridor.
‘I’m going to shit!’ I scream back, all self-respect long gone out the window.
I slam the toilet door open, rip the leggings down my thighs and sit on the toilet before even shutting the door.
I have the most severe shits I’ve ever experienced. What the hell has happened to me? The most terrifying noises shudder out of me. Growls I wouldn’t expect from an animal, let alone a human.
I rip my jumper off over my head, feeling like I’m suffocating.
When it’s finally over I realise that I did in fact shit myself, my knickers and leggings ruined. I’m sat in just my bra, still too hot to attempt the jumper. There is no way I can just pull these leggings up and run to the car. Ugh, fuck my life.
What the hell am I going to do? I need Arthur’s help. This is where I kiss goodbye to ever being able to look him in the eye again. It’s my only hope though. I need to get home somehow.
Eloise is back in Watford so there’s no way she could get here. Oh god, what has my life come to? I’m a disaster.
I get my phone out and write out a text to him.
I need you to please go and buy me a new pair of maternity jeans/leggings and a loose t-shirt. Bring it into the toilet and leave it by the sink with a packet of baby wipes. I also need you to never speak of this again.
There goes any self-respect I’ve been clinging onto.
17
Tuesday 3rd November
Charlotte – 29 Weeks Pregnant
True to his word, we didn’t speak of it. He brought me my new jeans and a t-shirt and then we drove straight home in silence. Looking back, I think the non-alcoholic drink I’d purchased for Eloise’s Halloween party mustn’t have agreed with me. It was sugar free and Eloise reckons they put sweeteners in it instead which if you take too many can act as a laxative. She’s the perfect person to be around after an emergency.
‘Charlotte.’
I look up to see James standing in front of my desk.
‘James,’ I say completely dumbfounded. I must look like such an idiot. I hate being caught off guard. ‘What are you doing here?’
She smiles, but I see her eyes sweep over my outfit in judgement. There I was thinking I looked good today in my black shift dress with white pussy bow collar. She looks a million miles better in a simple black polo neck paired with a double layered mesh midi skirt in caramel with black posies adorning it.
‘I thought I’d take you out for lunch.’
‘Oh… okay.’ I look at the clock and its bang on lunch time. I search around my mind for an excuse but can’t think of one. Instead I stare back like a rabbit in headlights. Damn that baby brain.
Roger walks out of his office and spots her, his face lighting up like a Christmas tree. ‘Ah, James. How the devil are you?’
Of course they know each other. Probably from the same aggressive polo club.
They air kiss like long lost friends. I’ll have to pick her brain on how she knows him. He’s such an arsehole; she must have some dirt on him.
‘I’m taking Charlotte out, if alright with you?’ She flutters her eyelashes and he’s putty in her hands.
‘Of course,’ he says as if he’s the most reasonable boss around. He turns to me. ‘Charlotte, I’ve been meaning to ask you, do you know why that plant is dying?’
‘The plant?’ I repeat, playing for time.
I stare at it, its leaves limp and sad. I know exactly what plant he’s talking about. The one I threw up in. I’ve tried watering it but it’s like it’s given up on life after the traumatic incident.
‘Yes, this one.’ He narrows his eyes at me. ‘Have you been watering it?’
‘Yes,’ I nod, standing and getting my coat. ‘How strange. Anyway I’ll be back soon. Bye.’
‘So,’ James says excitedly as soon as we’re sat down at far too a fancy restaurant for a quick lunch. I have three sets of cutlery. ‘I have a surprise for you.’
I gulp, my stomach unsettled. ‘You do?’
Shit. She’s moving in, isn’t she?
‘I do.’ She practically beams back at me, jumping in her seat. ‘I’ve decided… that I’m going to throw your baby shower.’
My face drops along with my stomach. She wants to what?
‘My baby shower?’ I repeat back in disbelief. She can’t be serious.
She nods, eyes glowing. ‘I know how stressed you’ve been lately.’
Why does she think that? Has Arthur been telling her stuff? God, if he told her I shit myself I will leave him and never look back until I’m in Canada starting a new life.
‘So I just thought I’d take this one thing from your shoulders. One less thing to worry about.’
‘Oh, but…’ how do I get out of this? ‘I just assumed my best friend Eloise would plan it.’
You know, the girl that actually knows me.
She narrows her eyes. ‘Well, has she offered?’ She smirks, as if she already knows she hasn’t.
‘Well, no,’ I begrudgingly admit, ‘but I’m sure that’s just because she’s been very busy.’
‘Well even better for me to take it off her busy hands then.’ She smiles, her blue eyes insistent.
‘Um… I’m sure she’d want to be the one to do it,’ I press, avoiding her threatening eyes. ‘She has after all been my best friend since we were teenagers.’
She shrugs. ‘Well if she wants some input just give her my number. I’m happy for all hands-on deck.’
She’s really not going to give in. I’m being bullied into it, whether I like it or not.
‘Um… okay.’
It’s easier to just go with it. A lifetime of being a referee between my parents has showed me arguing doesn’t get you anywhere. Especially with someone so stubborn.
‘Marvellous.’ She claps her hands together as if it’s a done deal. ‘Now, let’s talk themes.’
I groan. ‘Me and Arthur can’t even agree on a theme for the nursery, let alone a baby shower.’
I instantly regret telling her. I don’t want her to run back to Arthur and say I’ve been slagging him off.
‘Well,’ she grins evilly, ‘luckily for us the baby shower is nothing to do with him.’
I suppose she’s right. And why shouldn’t I be spoilt a little before my life is over for good? I need to look at this positively.
‘So.’ She reaches in her huge Michael Kors handbag, that I know costs just over four hundred pounds, and picks out a folder. ‘I’ve whittled the themes down to three. Have a look at my mood boards a
nd let me know which one you prefer.’
She hands it over. Why doesn’t she just have a Pinterest board like everyone else?
I scan over the sheets of paper. She has put a hell of a lot of thought into it. I almost feel bad for wishing she wouldn’t do it.
I can choose between Moon and Stars, Mum to Bee and Santa Baby. Each theme is more elaborate than the last.
‘So?’ she asks, eyes alight with excitement.
‘Oh, you want a decision right now?’
She nods eagerly. ‘I have to send the invitations out right away.’
‘Right away. Why? When is it going to happen?’ And shouldn’t I have some say in it?
‘Well,’ she purses her lips, ‘with Christmas and New Year being in the way, along with birthdays, etc the best date is Saturday 5th December.’
‘Oh, okay.’ Now the Santa Baby theme makes more sense. ‘It’s just a lot to think about.’
‘That’s why I’m here to make it easier.’ She smiles keenly. ‘I don’t start my new job until the New Year so I have plenty of time to spare.’
Ah, so that’s why she’s so eager. And she really is trying to be my friend. I should make an effort, for Arthur’s sake.
‘Can I make a suggestion?’ She leans in. ‘What with Linda’s Christmas eve party, I think discount that theme. Go for Moons and Stars. It’ll be magical.’
Maybe I should do the same theme for the nursery. Arthur would probably be pleased thinking our child would grow up to be an astronomer.
‘Okay. Looks like its Moons and Stars.’
She squeals in joy, clapping her hands together. ‘You will not regret this. It’s going to be epic!’
Then why do I already?
Thursday 5th November
Charlotte
Arthur is taking me out to dinner tonight. He said to make up for our disastrous dinner with James. He seemed pleased when I said I’d gone to lunch with her and that she was planning the baby shower. The cynical side of me wondered if the real reason James’s doing it is to look amazing to Arthur. Or Artie as she calls him.
I just bloody hope to God I’m not sick again tonight. He said he’s reserved a table far away from the kitchen and everyone else. He’s also promised not to order any fish.
Even though I’m still exhausted from Roger being a demanding diva I’m looking forward to it. It weirdly feels like our first date. I have a long bath, shave practically my entire body (which is hard because I can no longer see the tops of my legs) while cursing being a female, and then blow dry my hair to perfection. I put my tongs in it to create a little wave at the ends. Then I apply my make up. Smoky eyes and a nude lip.
It’s the first time in a long while that I actually feel pretty good about my appearance. The wine coloured floral midi dress I ordered looks good, I’m even getting used to the squelchy breast pads in my bra.
I know it’s not a date and that we’re not even together, but when he said that me and the baby had made his life, well it was hard not to swoon. He probably hasn’t thought about it since, whereas I’ve replayed it in my head constantly and there’s no denying I’m looking forward to going out with him.
I can feel myself falling for him harder each day. In a way I wish he were a bastard so I wouldn’t have to risk being hurt. I already feel vulnerable enough and that’s without indulging my heart in fantasies.
My phone rings, Arthur’s name flashing up on the screen. My stomach tingles with excitement.
‘Hi,’ I sing cheerily down the phone.
‘Hi.’ He sighs.
I know that sigh. My stomach drops. It’s bad news.
‘I’m so sorry but I’m going to have to cancel dinner.’
‘Oh.’ It’s hard to hide the disappointment. I mean, I put so much effort into getting all glammed up. Why couldn’t he have cancelled earlier? I could be in my pjs by now.
‘Yeah, we’ve got a last-minute meeting that we need to have, it looks like it’s going to be a long one. I’m so sorry, Charlotte.’
‘It’s okay.’ I try to sound more upbeat. I mean, he warned me when we first met that he doesn’t date because he will always put work first. Why am I shocked when he’s done the one thing he promised—put work first?
‘I’ll make it up to you,’ he says as someone talks to him in the background. ‘I’ve got to go. Order something in for yourself. Speak later.’
I hang up and look at myself in the mirror. All dressed up and nowhere to go. Maybe Eloise is free? I ring her but she says she’s already out on a date. I don’t know why she’s answering her phone on a date, but I suppose she’s another one constantly stuck to it.
Oh well. I settle down on the sofa, still dressed up to the nines and click onto Netflix. I know I’m in a mood because I don’t fancy watching anything and my watch list is huge. I’m too sad, my chest aching. My heart longing for everything and getting nothing.
My phone pings with a text and I grab it hoping its Eloise changing her mind. Instead I see it’s Josh.
Hey, how are you? Wondered if you fancied a drink or dinner tonight? x
Damn, how is it he can read my mind? I shouldn’t go out with him, I know I shouldn’t. Especially dressed up like I am. It’s disloyal to Arthur who is just trying to do his job. Trying to make this country a better place. But… well, it feels such a waste to be this dressed up when for once I don’t feel the crushing fatigue fighting at my eyelids.
Oh fuck it. It’s just dinner with an old friend.
We’ve gone to Pizza Express at his suggestion. He remembers how much I love those dough balls. I don’t just think it’s just me, it’s the whole nation, but whatever. It’s nice to go to just a normal casual restaurant where I can relax and be myself.
‘So did you really dress up like this just for me?’ he asks with an amused grin.
I sigh, my chest aching again. ‘No, I was planning on going out with Arthur,’ I admit, twirling my engagement ring round my finger.
‘So why aren’t you out with him?’ he asks, seeming genuinely concerned.
That’s one word I’d use to describe Josh: genuine.
I sigh again. ‘He had to work. He does a lot of that; work.’ I nod manically as if trying to convince myself that it’s okay.
He smiles in sympathy. ‘But not too much, right. Like, you and the baby are a priority I’m sure.’
My eyes suddenly sting with unshed tears and my chest tightens. I know the truth and it’s not the answer he’s expecting. It’s not even the answer I want to be true.
‘Yeah,’ I lie, nodding again. ‘I’m sure, of course we are. He’s just an important man with an important job.’
He smiles kindly. ‘I’m sure he’ll cut back his hours when the baby is born.’
‘I doubt it,’ I say absentmindedly while I dip my dough ball in the garlic butter.
‘Really?’ His eyes widen in shock. ‘And you’re okay with that?’
I shrug, already resigned to my situation. ‘To be honest I don’t have much choice. It is what it is.’
He laughs. ‘Quoting Love Island. I remember how much you loved that show.’
I giggle. ‘And you’d always tease me about it. But I know you loved all those girls in bikinis.’
He smiles affectionally back at me. There’s something between us but it’s the past, not the future. A feeling of familiarity.
‘So, what about you?’ I ask, eager to change the subject. ‘Are you seeing anyone?’
He shakes his head. ‘No. There was a girl a couple of months back, but we just didn’t work. Too different.’
Damn, do I know about different people trying to have a relationship.
‘That shocks me,’ I admit. ‘I mean you’re such an eligible bachelor. All I hear are friends saying there are no good guys left.’
And he’s bloody gorgeous too. Don’t get me wrong, he’s nowhere near as stunning as Arthur. They’re on completely different levels. But he’s still very attractive.
He smiles sadly. ‘
I think that’s my problem. I’m too much of a good guy. I’m boring. I just want to find someone to spend my life with. Settle down and have a family. Women say they want that, but in truth they want a bad boy.’
‘Everyone does love a bastard,’ I nod with a mischievous smile. Myself included. ‘Maybe you could pretend to be a bastard at the beginning and then ease them in? Make them feel like they’ve tamed a bad boy. Women love the idea of that.’
He chews on his lip. ‘I suppose I could. Could you coach me?’
I laugh. ‘Of course. I’ve known a lot of heartless bastards in my time.’
I’m currently living with one.
18
Saturday 7th November
Charlotte
I haven’t been able to stop thinking about dinner with Josh. How different and lovely my life could have been I’d stayed with him and got pregnant by him; had someone I could rely on, really lean on and trust.
Luckily I still managed to get in before Arthur so he’s none the wiser. No matter how many times I tell myself it’s no big deal, I can’t help but feel guilty like I’ve betrayed him, which is so stupid. We’re not even together.
James said she was going to pop round today to discuss the baby shower. I’m barely out of bed at ten a.m. when there’s a knock at the door.
‘That’ll be the troops,’ Arthur says sipping from his coffee cup.
I raise my eyebrows. ‘Troops? As in more than one person?’
He grins knowingly as he walks to the door and swings it open. James is there but so is his bloody mother. What is she doing here?
‘Morning darling,’ she says to Arthur giving him a swift kiss on the lips. Do Mums still kiss their adult sons on the lips? That’s weird.
James gives Arthur a squeeze. I’m sure you shouldn’t greet friends that way, but then maybe I’m just a jealous and irrational bitch.
Whitehall Baby: A Surprise Pregnancy, Fake Relationship Romantic Comedy Perfect for Chick Lit Fans Page 12