But this behaviour is all tame until we get to the children’s section. Her eyes are awe stricken as if she’s smoked a blunt. She starts cooing over everything. I have to admit that for a cheap Swedish furniture company they do have some good ideas in here.
She grabs a few things, throwing them in my trolley, and then says we need to go downstairs.
‘There’s a downstairs?’ I ask, unable to hide the horror from my voice.
She nods. ‘The basement. It’s the best part.’
I gulp but follow her to the lifts. The doors open and I’m overwhelmed by textiles of every colour and texture. She starts throwing stuff in the trolley. Blankets, candles, plants, curtains, rugs. I have no idea where she plans on putting this stuff but she insists she ‘needs it all’.
I don’t know how she’s finding the energy for all this. It looks like pushing herself in the wheelchair is actually harder than the crutches. It better not bring on those contractions again.
We have to walk through a hideous warehouse in order to get in the queue for the tills.
‘I’m never coming to Ikea again,’ I announce on a sigh, stooped over the overflowing trolley.
Her eyes widen. Well, shit. I didn’t think she’d be that shocked. She must really love Ikea.
‘I’m sorry, okay? It’s just not a place meant for men.’
‘No you idiot,’ she whisper hisses. ‘I think my waters just broke.’
I look down and the smallest puddle has appeared under her seat.
‘Shit! They can’t have. You’re only thirty-two weeks.’
I knew pushing herself in that wheelchair would exhaust her. Maybe she’s been in some sort of slow labour this whole time.
‘Oh god, I just knew I’d end up being early. Look, we’ll just pay for this and then call the hospital when we get home.’
‘I don’t bloody think so,’ I snap, already looking for our closest exit. ‘We’re leaving this and going straight to the hospital.’
‘But… but… my candles.’
I take her wheelchair and drag her out of the shop.
Tuesday 1st December
Charlotte – 33 Weeks Pregnant
I’ve felt low since the Ikea incident. We rushed off to hospital to only be told that I’d actually pissed myself. How humiliating. It’s a good thing really. Means that there’s nothing wrong with the baby. Just that my bladder control has now diminished to nothing.
But learning that kind of information is never something to be jolly about. They made me do a quick urine sample while I was there, and it turns out I was a bit dehydrated. They allowed me home explaining that I have to drink gallons of water a day. Arthur bought me a water bottle with times along the side of it and is constantly bugging me about it now.
On top of the humiliation of peeing myself in Ikea, I also have the fact that I wasn’t able to buy any of the bits I wanted. Those things were going to help me make his apartment feel like mine. I asked Arthur if we could go back but he said no. Didn’t have time apparently.
And did I mention I’m still on crutches? I know I did, but I’m so pissed off about it.
Oh well. I’m forcing myself to trudge on. To count my blessings and remember that I could be in far worse situations. Sure, I’m still having to live a lie about being engaged but he’s here, although in some of my darkest moments I actually think I’d be better off on my own. Not having to lie, doing everything my own way without having to consult anyone.
I’ve decided to cheer myself up I’m going to buy myself a mozzarella panini in the local cafe. Just what I need, carbs and cheese.
I’ve just placed my order and am waiting at a small table when Josh walks in. He spots me immediately and waves, walking over. Is the guy following me or something? I shake my head at the ridiculous idea. I don’t own bloody London.
‘Hey, how are you?’ he asks, his eyes kind.
I sigh involuntarily. ‘Yeah, I’m fine. You?’
He frowns. ‘Uh-oh. That doesn’t sound good. Want to talk about it?’
My soul feels heavy and tired. Or maybe it’s my body that feels heavy and tired. I’ve got a blister on my palm from this torture device crutch.
‘No, I’m okay. Just a bit low is all.’
He sits down with a friendly smile. ‘Come on. Out with it.’
Damn it, he’s always been able to read me so well.
‘I’m just… I’m realising how different me and Arthur are.’
I feel like such a traitor for even speaking that out loud. Especially to my ex-boyfriend.
He raises his eyebrows. ‘Bit of an understatement.’
‘Yeah, I know. It’s my own fault.’
‘I didn’t say that.’ He shakes his head.
‘We went to Ikea at the weekend and… its stupid, but he just absolutely hated it. I had this idea of us getting excited about buying bits for the flat, for the baby, but he just didn’t want to be there.’
‘And it makes you think he’s not interested?’ he asks, seeming genuinely concerned.
‘Yeah.’ I sigh. ‘I guess that’s the root of everything.’
Regardless of how he’s said he feels about me, there’s still that niggle of doubt in the back of my head that tells me he’s only here for the baby.
‘Plus you don’t like relying on people to begin with, so for you to trust him with that and feel let down. I get it.’
‘I don’t like relying on people?’ I repeat back with a frown. ‘What makes you say that?’
’It’s obvious, Charlotte. Our whole relationship you remained fiercely independent. You didn’t want to rely on me for anything.’
I suppose I am like that a little bit. But why rely on people when they’ll only let you down? My arguing parents taught me early on that I should be self-reliant. They were always too busy arguing with each other to worry about me. I set my own alarms, I got myself to school.
‘Well maybe I’m ready for someone to rely on. It just so happens I’ve found a man who a lot of other people rely on too.’
He smiles sadly. I feel a surge of guilt for talking about Arthur. He’s a good man. Fear grips me at the thought of this getting back to him.
‘I shouldn’t have said all of this. Please don’t repeat it to anyone.’
He squeezes my hand just as my panini is put down in front of me.
‘Hey, I’m always here to listen and I’ll never repeat anything you say. Just know that some of us can be relied on. Even only as a mate.’
He smiles, stands up, collects his coffee and is about to leave when he leans into me.
‘And if you ever need a buddy to go to Ikea with, you know I’ve always loved that place.’
He goes on his way. Why is it I’m forgetting why I broke up with that man?
Thursday 3rd December
Charlotte
I’m not even two weeks into my maternity leave but I’m bored. I need a project and I’ve decided doing up baby’s nursery will be the perfect distraction. Nesting and all that. I’ve been sleeping in here so its quickly become an unorganised dumping ground of my stuff. It’s been giving me anxiety.
My phone rings and I’m sure it’s just Arthur calling me again to ask how I am. He’s gone completely nuts since the hospital incident. He’s forever calling to check I’m okay. I know its sweet and I’m glad he’s interested enough to care but, well, I can’t help but think he’s just worried about the baby. I’m just the human attached to it.
Instead, I find an unknown number calling.
‘Hello?’ I ask tentatively.
‘Hi, is that Charlotte Bellswain?’ a posh woman asks.
‘Yes.’
‘Hi. You probably don’t remember me, but I met you at the Civil Service Awards a good few months ago and you gave me your number in case I ever needed a dress designed.’
Oh my god. Of course I remember Alice Elizabeth Du Pont.
‘Yes, I remember’
‘Well, I have an event a week Saturday. It’s black tie. I d
id have another dress planned but I’ve just tried it on and I’m not happy with it. It would be a quick turnaround, but do you think you could do it?’
‘Of course! I would absolutely love to!’
Saturday 5th December
I can’t believe I have the chance to design a dress for Alice Elizabeth Du Pont. Whatever she wears is talked about in the press. It’s a huge opportunity for me. I already have some ideas I’ve jotted down in my journal. I can’t wait to meet her and get started, even if it will be a nightmare while I’m on crutches.
Arthur of course went mad and said I shouldn’t be stressing my body out designing a dress, but I told him this opportunity was too big to turn down. He eventually agreed.
In the meantime I have my baby shower. It’s been turned into such a dramatic circus it’s nothing like I wanted myself, but it was easier to let James plough on ahead.
As I hobble into the hotel and take in the grand surroundings my stomach churns with nervous anticipation. Arthur reaches down to my crutch and squeezes my hand reassuringly. I look down at it, so grateful he’s here. His phone rings, so he drops my hand to answer.
‘There you are!’
I look up to see James waving at me from across the room. She’s wearing a silver dress with intricate gold stars sewn on it. Her brunette glossy hair cascades beautifully down her lean back. She’s so damn gorgeous. It makes me sick. I feel like such a frump in my navy wrap dress and flat matching ballet pump and sock next to her. Arthur says I’m mad, but I know I’ve started to get puffy in my face.
I force a smile, take a deep breath and make my way over to her. She embraces me in her arms like she’s known me for years, air kissing me. She takes me into the ballroom, past the gold and white balloon arch, complete with stars, and giant sign that says Charlotte’s Baby Shower.
‘Well, what do you think?’
I mean, I have to give it to her. The girl has done an amazing job. The tables are decorated with gold sequinned runners, lush white flower bouquets in the centre containing cala lilies, tulips and hydrangeas. There’s gold trays of biscuits shaped like moons and stars. Above us are fluffy clouds with moons and stars falling from them.
I even seem to have my own throne. There’s a giant wooden half-moon with Stay Wild Moon Child written on it in swirly black script, white and silver balloons adorning it. A wicker chair decorated with white pampas grass waits for me. Great, so all of these strangers can gawk at me
It’s all so thought out and intricate. Then why do I still feel it’s so impersonal? Oh that’s right. Because a lot of the people here I don’t even know. They must be ‘Arthurs friends’ or more likely James’s.
Arthur rushes in rubbing the back of his neck. ‘Charlotte, I’m so sorry but I have to go.’
‘What?’ I stare back at him, begging him with my eyes to stay.
He frowns. ‘There’s an emergency COBRA meeting. I’m so sorry.’
My stomach sinks. Another emergency meeting. I feel like they’re every day right now. Really takes the whole emergency out of them.
‘Okay.’
I don’t sound okay. He can tell too. He looks genuinely torn, biting his lower lip, but like he always does he apologises and leaves, choosing his work over us.
His mother waves coldly from another table, surrounded by a gabble of equally posh women. The two I threw supermarket dog food on are there. Goody. I just need to spot some friends of my own. Where the hell is...
‘Char!’
I turn with a smile to see Eloise rushing in with a present.
‘Sorry I’m late, babe.’ She grabs me in for a quick squeeze then takes a quick look around. ‘God, alive, it looks amazing.’
‘I know. I’m so glad you’re here. Thank God I at least know one person here.’
She frowns. ‘Aren’t Sarah and Lauren coming?’
I shrug. ‘No idea. I gave James my guest list, but she sorted the invites and RSVP’s.’
She rolls her eyes. ‘Why am I not surprised?’
‘It’s probably my own fault. I’ve been shit at keeping in touch the last few months.’
‘Well, you are growing a human. I think you have a great excuse.’
James motions for us to sit down to eat. We’re served a delicious three course meal, with thankfully no fish, and then everyone is left to mingle around while more champagne is served. I’m stuck with orange juice.
James drags me and my crutches over to introduce me to all of her and Arthur’s friends. Some are friendly, some I can see looking at me in wonder. As if to say ‘why her? Why is she so special?’ Trust me, I don’t get it either.
I excuse myself to go to the toilet. I stare back at my tired puffy reflection in the mirror. You can do this, Charlotte. It’s just one day. Yes, your foot is hurting, your back is aching, your armpits are rubbed raw and you feel incredibly awkward, but you can do this.
I pull my shoulders back with fake confidence and walk back out to ‘my’ baby shower.
I walk round the corner but stop in my tracks when I hear my name said by Arthur’s mum. ‘Charlotte is a sweet girl, I’m sure. And at least we know the child will be attractive.’
Her friends agree.
‘We just have to hope it has its father’s brains. God knows we don’t want to pay for private school for it to just end up being a fairy artist like its mother.’
They all laugh as if it’s hilarious. That’s what I am to these women, a joke. This whole party is just some huge joke. I’ve never felt so humiliated. And I’ve shit myself in public. Twice. Air suddenly feels hard to come by. That’s it, I have to get out of here.
I walk past, as quickly as I can with the damn crutches, discreetly grab my bag, and then hightail it out of there. I keep walking, scrambled thoughts rushing through my head. I’m never going to be good enough for them. Never as smart, as sophisticated. I’ll always be the stupid cow that got pregnant.
I walk for what feels like hours, but must be mere minutes, until I find myself in Whitehall Gardens. I sit down on a bench, glad for the relief, and watch as families skip past with happy smiles. I’ll never have that. I’ve somehow got pregnant by the one man in the world that I’m completely incompatible with. I wish I’d never gone to that damn Civil Service Awards. Wish I’d never set this whole shit show in action.
But then I feel instantly bad for wishing the baby away. I clutch at my stomach.
‘You’re the only thing I know I want,’ I say out loud. ‘If only everything else was so simple.’
23
Arthur
Since Charlotte ended up in hospital I’ve told my PA to monitor my phone and interrupt any meetings at number ten if there’s an emergency. I just can’t risk not being there for her again. I try to listen as the PM waffles on, repeating himself. This whole meeting could have been done in an email.
A knock at the door startles everyone. My PA Rachel sticks her head round it, already as red as a tomato. ‘I am so sorry to interrupt, but I’m afraid there’s an emergency Mr Ellison needs to attend to.’
Shit.
I excuse myself, ignoring the dirty looks some give me and take my phone.
‘What is it?’ I ask Rachel. ‘Is Charlotte okay?’ I know she’ll have been mortified having to interrupt that meeting.
‘I just got a panicked phone call from James. Apparently Charlotte has gone missing.’
‘Missing?’ I repeat, more to myself. I call James back immediately. I know she’ll be the calmer, rational one between her and Eloise.
‘Arthur,’ she answers, her voice full of concern. ‘I’m worried about Charlotte. She just disappeared. We can’t find her anywhere and she’s not answering her phone.’
Shit.
‘How the hell do you lose someone from their own baby shower?’ I snap, letting days of frustration out on her.
She scoffs a laugh. ‘Sorry Arthur, but I wasn’t asked to babysit her. She’s a grown woman who is more than capable of telling me, her host, that she’s leavin
g. To be frank, after all the effort I’ve put into it I find it very rude to just leave without saying goodbye.’
I roll my eyes. Trust James to make it all about herself.
‘I’m sure she had a good reason. I’ll go look for her now.’
I hang up and call Eloise, aware I might get a completely different explanation.
‘Hi,’ she answers curtly, out of breath. It sounds like she’s walking somewhere.
‘What happened?’ I ask, deciding to cut right to the chase.
‘I don’t know specifically. She went to the toilet and just never came back.’
‘Did you check she’s not still in there? She could be having contractions again.’
‘Of course I checked. I’m out looking for her now although I have no idea where to start. She’s not picking up her phone.’
‘She can’t have got too far. She’s on bloody crutches for God’s sakes.’
I practically hear her roll her eyes.
‘Why do you think she left?’ I press.
I know Eloise won’t bullshit me.
‘I think maybe she was overwhelmed. Our friends couldn’t make it, so it was basically only me, James and your mum that she knew. It must be hard to have a huge party thrown in your honour but have no one you know there.’
I feel so bad. She would have coped so much better if I’d have stayed. Yet again I’ve let her down. I don’t know how much longer I can continue to disappoint her.
‘Okay. I’ll come out and look too.’
I poke my head back into the meeting and state I have to leave for a family emergency. The PM is actually very understanding.
I go to the apartment first, rushing between the rooms, but she’s not there. Shit. Think. Where would she go? I don’t even know her favourite places. I need to talk to her more. Listen. Eloise has more chance of finding her.
Regardless I can’t sit here just waiting and hoping. I walk down the street, aimlessly searching for her. Asking strangers if they’ve seen her, presenting a picture from my phone.
Whitehall Baby: A Surprise Pregnancy, Fake Relationship Romantic Comedy Perfect for Chick Lit Fans Page 16