It’s getting dark now and I’m worried. Why hasn’t she called me back? I’m wandering down the embankment when I look over at Whitehall Gardens. I briefly remember her saying she sometimes ate lunch there when she worked for Blueberry. I wander in, passing by happy families, wondering if I’ll ever be able to have that.
I search around and finally, when I’m about to give up, I spot her sitting on a bench under a tree, her crutches beside her. She’s staring into space, tears streaming down her cheeks. Damn. I want to murder every single person that has made her cry. Although the biggest worry is that it’s me that’s caused these tears. Me that’s let her down, yet again.
I take a deep breath and walk over to her. ‘Charlotte?’
She looks up startled when she spots me.
‘Arthur. What are you doing here?’
‘I was looking for you. James and Eloise were worried when you left your baby shower.’
She scoffs. ‘It sure didn’t feel like my baby shower.’
I sit down beside her on the bench.
‘Eloise mentioned that you might have felt a bit overwhelmed.’
She nods. ‘I would have been okay though. I’m a big girl. But…’ She stops herself.
‘But what?’ I press, tucking some of her hair behind her ear so I can see her beautiful face.
‘Nothing.’
I lift her chin so she can’t avoid me. ‘Charlotte, it doesn’t look like nothing. If someone has upset you, I’d like to know.’
‘Well, they didn’t mean to upset me.’ She fiddles with her necklace. ‘They didn’t say it to my face anyway.’
I frown. ‘So you overheard someone talking about you?’
She nods, biting her lip.
‘Who?’ I’m ready to murder them.
She sighs, slumping her shoulders. ‘Your mother.’
Rage settles over me. I clench my fists, feeling like I’m going to explode. My fucking own mother is the one who upset the woman I... damn, I nearly just thought the woman I love. I don’t love her. Do I?
‘What did she say?’ I ask, trying really hard not to growl.
She sniffs. ‘She was saying to her friends that she hopes the baby gets your brains so it doesn’t end up being a creative fairy like me.’
My mouth drops open. ‘You’re fucking serious?’
She shrugs. ‘Why would I lie?’
I take her hand. ‘Charlotte, don’t for one second think I’m saying you’re lying. I’m just so fucking mad right now. How dare she?’
She smiles, her eyes still glassy. ‘It’s fine, Arthur. She’s made it no secret she doesn’t care for me.’
‘I don’t care what she thinks. She has no fucking right.’
She stands up, with some effort. ‘I suppose she’s right anyway. I mean, what have I achieved anyway? I’m a bloody PA with a fashion degree I never use.’
I stand up and take her hands again. ‘You’ve just been asked to design Alice Elizabeth Du Pont’s dress. That’s a huge damn deal.’
‘If I don’t mess it up.’ She bites her lip, her brows furrowed.
I hate how her confidence has taken such a battering. She’s so far from the carefree, hysterically laughing woman charming her table that I first laid my eyes on.
‘Charlotte my mother has no idea what an incredible woman you are. You’re caring, funny, sweet, down to earth. Everyone that knows you properly loves you and would die for you.’
‘Would you?’ Her eyes widen when she realises what she’s said. ‘Die for me, I mean,’ she quickly corrects, looking down at the ground.
‘Charlotte, I would use my mother as a human shield to protect you and this baby.’
She snorts a laugh. It makes my heart soar. I want to hear that laugh far more.
‘I’m sure we’ll never be in that particular situation. But good to know.’
I sigh, wanting to say so much more, but not sure if she’d like it.
‘I would die for you Charlotte.’ She looks up at me, her hazel eyes filled with what seems like hope. ‘I thank God every day that this baby forced us together. Brought you into my life.’
She smiles sadly. ‘It’s fine, Arthur. No one is here to overhear you.’
I frown. Is she talking about our fake engagement?
‘Charlotte, regardless of our fake engagement, I’m…’
‘You’re what?’ she whispers looking longingly at me.
What’s the worst that can happen if I tell her how I really feel? She could tell me she doesn’t feel the same way and it will be awkward going forward. Or… well how would I feel if I didn’t tell her, for fear of rejection, and she thinks I don’t care. Goes and falls in love with someone else?
I take a deep breath, gulping down the racing panic.
‘I’m falling in love with you.’
Her mouth drops open, her eyes widening in shock.
‘Like… for real?’
‘Yes, for real.’ I nod. ‘Now I know you might not feel the same and that’s fine. I don’t want you to feel any pressure to try with me, but—’
I’m stopped by her kissing me. She holds onto my face with delicate fingers, like it’s a lifeline. Happiness explodes in my chest. I grab her waist and pull her in tightly, as tightly as the bump will let us. I tangle my tongue with hers, telling her everything I can’t put into words. That I might already love her.
We stop when the baby kicks. We both look down at her stomach and laugh.
‘I think someone is happy,’ she says with a chuckle.
I smile back at her. How have I got so lucky?
‘So we’re really doing this?’ she double checks, biting her bottom lip. ‘We’re trying to make it work for real.’
‘Yes,’ I nod. ‘You’re back in my bed and in my life twenty-four seven.’
She grins. ‘I’ve never felt so happy.’
24
Saturday 12th December
Charlotte – 34 Weeks Pregnant
I’ve had the most amazing week. First Arthur went and professed that he’s falling in love with me. I still can’t believe it and find myself pinching my skin every now and then to check it’s not a dream. To be able to show the affection I feel towards him in hugs and kisses is unreal. I realise now the energy it was taking out of me worrying and wondering what we were; he seems so much happier too.
Arthur Ellison is my boyfriend.
Alice Elizabeth Du Pont also came around and we discussed what kind of dress she wanted. I drew it roughly and then measured her up, all while crawling awkwardly on the floor to avoid foot pain and try to work around this giant baby. Did you know it’s now the size of a pineapple? How terrifying is that?
I presented the dress to her yesterday and she was over the moon with the red A-line cocktail dress made of tulle and lace fabric. I worked my butt off to get it done in time but it was a dream to be doing something I’m passionate about.
Arthur said he’s happy I’m doing something I love. I still find it amazing that he really is so interested in my happiness. How an absolute god like him has picked me when he could have anyone.
Anyway, to celebrate my first commissioned design Eloise has told me to dress up pretty and meet her for lunch at our favourite little pub in Watford. They do the best giant onion rings.
Arthur insisted on paying for a taxi to take me the full way so I didn’t have to struggle on my crutches and sweat on the crowded trains. I said it wasn’t necessary but I’m so glad he insisted. I’m getting up about five times a night to pee and when I am sleeping its uncomfortable, honestly, I’m absolutely exhausted.
I plaster a smile onto my face and hobble in, spotting her straight away. She waves and grabs me.
‘Where are we going?’
‘I booked us a private table,’ she says, guiding me towards the small function room at the back.
Why the hell would she book us a private table?
She opens the door and, ‘SURPRISE!’ is shouted out at me.
I look around to s
ee all of my friends; ones I’ve known from school, ones I made at university and still stayed in touch with, ones I’d made at Blueberry fashion house and even my mum here. Behind them are giant rose gold balloons spelling out baby.
I turn back to Eloise, still in shock, and promptly burst into tears. Everyone looks on anxiously.
‘You threw me another baby shower?’
She grins. ‘I did. But this one is going to actually be fun! Come on.’
Sunday 13th December
Charlotte
We had such a laugh yesterday. I finally felt like I was having a baby shower for me, and not a room of strangers. Eloise had put so much thought into it. She had photos of me and Arthur as children all around the room and played games including ‘labour or porn.’ Basically pictures of screaming women which we had to guess if they belonged to a woman in labour or in a porn movie. So funny. Each person brought a dish they’d made themselves, and I ate my body weight in gorgeous beige fried food. Yeah, my friends aren’t the best cooks.
Arthur even surprised me by turning up an hour before the end to chat to everyone and pose for photos.
Arthur walks into the bedroom, wet and delicious from a shower, in only his towel. My god, do I want to lick him dry.
‘Have you seen this?’ He hands me over a newspaper and turns it to the celebrity section.
There in a big image is Alice Elizabeth Du Pont in my dress.
‘Oh my God!’ I shriek, jumping up and down on my bum. ‘My dress! It’s my dress!’
He grins back at me. ‘I know. Your first official write up.’
I quickly read over the small description.
‘Alice Elizabeth Du Pont wears a dress designed by Cabinet Secretary Arthur Ellison’s fiancé Charlotte Bellswain.’
‘Oh my god they mentioned me! How amazing!’ I let the feeling of euphoria wash over me. ‘Do you actually think I could make a business out of this?’
He smiles. ‘Of course I do.’
Wow.
‘Perfect time for me to give you this.’ He hands over a silver case. Inside are the most stunning gold embossed business cards.
Charlotte Bellswain.
Bespoke Fashion Designer
‘I love them.’ It’s then I realise he must have ordered these before the story was printed. ‘Wait, you had the faith in me to order these?’
He scoffs. ‘Charlotte, I ordered these as soon as you told me you were pregnant. I know that you can do great things. You’ve just needed the chance.’
I stare back at him, open mouthed, no doubt like an unattractive fish.
‘I can’t believe you did that.’
He shrugs, as if he isn’t the wonderful human being he is. ‘I’ll show you the dated invoice if you like?’
I shake my head, feeling myself blush. How is this guy so into me? I still don’t get it.
‘So you had a good day yesterday?’ he asks, sitting down on the bed and tucking a bit of my hair behind my ear. I love when he does that. It makes me feel cherished.
‘Yeah.’ I smile. ‘I know it sounds bad, but it was nice to be with my own crowd.’
He smiles sadly and I know what he’s thinking. He wishes I got on better with James and his mother. I sent James a quick sorry message after I’d ran out of the shower and thanked her for organising it for me. Arthur apparently also spoke to his mother and warned her to back off or we’d be out of her life forever.
I do still worry that we’re from such different worlds. I’ll never fit into his and he’ll never fit into mine. But for now, I choose to ignore all of my niggling doubts and be happy.
25
Wednesday 16th December
Charlotte - 35 Weeks Pregnant
I’ve had no less than fifteen women call me since the article about my dress. After my initial excitement I sat down and really thought about what I want. Turns out I don’t want to jump headfirst into a new business this close to delivering the baby. With my bleeding and early contractions there’s a chance the baby could be premature. Plus, I’m still on these bastard crutches. My life is hard enough right now. It’s the last thing I need.
So I’ve decided I want to relax and finally sort out the nursery. Get in the right head space. God knows I’m not sleeping at night anymore. I find it easier to take small naps during the day. I bravely told the women this. I braced myself, expecting them to lose interest immediately, but instead they asked me to call them when the baby is born and I’ve got childcare sorted.
I have however decided I’m going to design my own dress for Arthur’s mum’s Christmas Eve party. I’ve had a look online and I can’t find anything I like that will fit me, but I already have some amazing ideas. I just have to see if I can get the fabric I need in time.
It also gives me the opportunity to return a lot of the presents I got at James’ baby shower. I mean talk about ridiculous; a sterling silver egg cup, some baby clothes from his mum that look like they come from the Edwardian times and a baby monitor that I already bought for myself. After that I plan on buying some bits for the nursery.
I thought this was all a good idea until I remembered I’m on crutches and holding a bag full of returns while also attempting to walk with them is hard damn work. Maybe I’ll skip the nursery bits.
I’m already sweating my tits off as I queue up in John Lewis, knowing all of the stuff is from here. It’s finally my turn and I step forward with what I hope it a friendly smile.
‘Hi, I think a few of these things are from here and I want to return them, but I don’t have the receipt. Can I get store credit?’
I hope he’ll take pity on the pregnant girl with the crutches. Damn, there needs to be some advantages to this.
‘I can look into that for you, madam.’
‘Charlotte?’ Someone calls from behind me.
I swing round to see James walking straight towards me, three gowns over her arm. Shit. I don’t want to be caught returning the stuff and have her think I’m ungrateful.
I turn back to the woman, hoping she’s going to put the returned items away and quickly. She’s still talking to her manager on the phone.
‘What are you doing here?’ James asks me, already by me. Those damn gazelle-like legs.
I try to stand in front of the items so she can’t see.
‘Oh, just um…’
‘Madam,’ the cashier interrupts, ‘we can give you store credit.’
James’ face falls as she takes in the items I’m returning.
‘Oh, that’s bits from the baby shower. You didn’t like them?’ She actually looks crestfallen.
‘Um… I’m just… really particular,’ I quickly bullshit. ‘But all the stuff was great, just not my style.’
She looks over the baby clothes. ‘I helped Linda pick these out for you. You know a lot of time went into buying this for you. I don’t think she’ll be very pleased.’
Is she threatening to tell her? Any previous sympathy for upsetting her has gone.
‘Well, hopefully we can keep this between the two of us. Right?’ I smile with hope, eyes pleading desperately.
She quirks her lip as if she can smell bad fish. ‘I suppose.’
There’s an awkward beat of silence where neither of us know where to look. God, I despise the tension.
‘Anyway, must be off. See you on Christmas Eve.’
Saturday 19th December
Charlotte
Arthur hasn’t mentioned James catching me returning the baby stuff, thank God
To make matters worse when I got home I found a card in the post from her. She’d taken it upon herself to send out thank you cards for my baby shower. So sweet of her Arthur said. Yeah right. She chose a picture she’d taken of me to be plastered on the front. I look extremely fat, my double chin on full view and I look slightly shocked, as if she caught me off guard.
He has no idea this is her way of declaring war. Well bring it on bitch. Arthur is mine and there is no way I’m giving him up for anyone, especially her.<
br />
The stuff I really wanted was from Ikea so I got a delivery. Arthur kept asking me to look at other higher end websites, which I did, but I found identical stuff for three times the price. I don’t want to waste money like that. Especially when it’ll likely be covered in baby vomit soon.
Arthur drags the huge cardboard boxes into the nursery.
‘Thanks. Now all we need to do is put it together.’
He sighs, looking hassled. ‘Can’t we just pay someone to do it?’
I laugh. ‘Where’s the fun in that?’
Frowning he scratches his neck. ‘I don’t see there being any fun in my near future.’
His phone pings several times with incoming emails.
‘Come on,’ I encourage with what I hope is a sexy smile. ‘It won’t take long if we work together.’
An hour later we’re both stressed to fuck. Yeah, I only ever thought Ikea furniture was fun because either my dad or Josh put it together for me. Arthur might be great at his job, but his strong point isn’t putting flat packs together.
‘Where’s the plastic thing?’ he asks irritably.
‘What plastic thing?’
‘The thing that holds this part up?’ His face is tight with anxiety.
I look at the instructions trying to gauge what the hell he’s talking about.
‘You shouldn’t need a plastic part. You should need one of those little wooden bits.’
‘Ugh, this is bullshit,’ he complains, letting the piece he’s been holding up fall with a loud clatter. ‘None of it makes fucking sense!’
I snort a laugh. ‘Well I suppose it is a Swedish company. But the instructions are in English.’
His phone is constantly binging in the background. Every time it does I see him looking longingly towards it.
‘Whatever Charlotte, I’m done with this.’ He stands up, clenching his jaw. ‘I have work to do, far more important stuff. Just hire someone to put it together.’
Whitehall Baby: A Surprise Pregnancy, Fake Relationship Romantic Comedy Perfect for Chick Lit Fans Page 17