by Tracy Bloom
“You’re still crap at singing,” she said. “Good job you don’t do it anymore. So anyway what do we do about this dinner date then? I assume that’s why you’re here?” Katy asked, looking at her watch.
“What? Oh yeah, of course. That’s what I came to talk about,” said Matthew, trying to get his mind back on track. “So I know this is going to sound really strange, but the thing is Alison is really excited about it. She got home last night and was straight into Gordon Ramsay and has the whole menu planned already. It’s the most cheerful I’ve seen her since we moved here. And there is no way she’ll let you get out of it. Believe me, once Alison has the bit between her teeth there’s no stopping her. I know the whole situation has disaster written all over it but do you think we could go ahead. Life’s so much better when she’s cheerful.”
“God Matthew, we’re really pushing our luck here you know.”
“I know, but if it makes her feel like she’s settling in she might relax a bit which would be such a relief. I know this is a crazy situation and I can’t believe I’m asking, but please come. I dread to think what she’ll be like if you call with an excuse.”
“You do realise, we can’t be friends,” Katy said slowly.
“I know, but this might just be the thing to inspire her into making an effort to make some other friends rather than obsessing about the babies. Though not with you of course. Please come round just this once and then I promise you we’ll never…” Matthew trailed off.
He got up and walked around her desk towards her.
“What are you doing?” she asked as he got closer.
“Is that the baby?” he said as he went past her and peered at the scan photo she had pinned to the notice board behind her desk.
He couldn’t stop his fingers from reaching up to touch the image. He traced the shape of the baby just as he had done with the twin’s picture. He felt the world stopping or at the very least slowing down.
Katy stared at him in horror.
“Yes it is,” she said quietly.
He swallowed. Then turned to look deep into her eyes before muttering, “I’ll go now. See you on Saturday.”
He scurried back round the desk, picked up his briefcase and walked out of her office without looking back.
Chapter 12
The morning of the dinner party dawned and Katy decided that rather than spend the day fretting she should finally get round to buying some baby gear. To her surprise Ben reacted with a degree of enthusiasm, so armed with a list from Louise who couldn’t believe Katy’s lack of preparation, they set off to the out-of-town baby-store.
“Brilliant, there’s a Currys,” said Ben as soon as they got out of the car. “I need camera batteries so I can get some embarrassing pictures on the stag-do. I’ll just pop in now love. Won’t be long, you just carry on.”
He was gone before she could protest and walking far too fast for her pregnant body to catch up with him. Sighing she turned to contemplate the enormous baby store, remembering previous unnerving visits to buy gifts for other people’s babies. The sight of so many pregnant women in one place always disturbed her. She felt as though she had landed on a different planet where all women had to be pregnant all the time. She shivered at the thought before forcing herself to go in and get on with it.
She’d start with clothes she thought. She was good at buying clothes. She had been doing it practically all her life. All confidence however vanished when faced with her first difficult decision. What size? Newborn or 0-3 months? What was that all about? Surely they were the same? What was the difference? Why didn’t she know about this? Was it a conspiracy to confuse her? She looked up in a panic only to see lots of other mums-to-be effortlessly gliding around her looking totally in the know. She hastily stuffed half a dozen of each into her trolley before deciding to move onto something less stressful.
She consulted the list. Monitors. That had to be easy. She took a deep breath and attempted her own calm glide off to the safety section.
Is somebody having a laugh? she thought as she looked in a daze at the row upon row of listening devices blinking at her like evil little aliens. The level of equipment required made her think the baby must at least be expected to do a complete Beatles medley before it went to sleep. She reached out a now slightly shaking hand and took one off the middle shelf and attempted to read the sales blurb. But it might as well have been written in Dutch for all the sense it made. She flung it into the trolley before stalking back to the relative sanctuary of the clothing section.
After an hour and ten minutes she was utterly confused, distraught, angry and a bit sweaty. She looked up from the Templeton Deluxe Pushchair Travel System which she had been in mortal combat with for the last twenty minutes and hoped no-one saw her give it a good kick. The shop assistant had made it all look so easy when, with a flick of the wrist, she had morphed it from what appeared to be a complete tangle of silver chrome and flappy black canvas into a robust, if complicated-looking, baby carriage.
“What about this one?” said the assistant appearing again and pointing at another pram that looked like Tupperware on wheels. “This one is really simple to use, especially if you haven’t got a man who can get it in and out of the car for you.”
Katy stood with her mouth open. How dare she assume she was a single mum. Ben would be here any minute, she said to herself again, looking desperately towards the door for the umpteenth time.
She sat down on the edge of the display to try and pull herself together and watched in a haze as a smartly-dressed couple wandered over to look at the pushchairs.
“I can’t believe that twenty minutes ago we were at the garage selling your convertible and now we’re in here buying a pram,” said the heavily pregnant woman. “Life’s never going to be the same again is it?” she continued, looking almost as shaken as Katy felt.
“You’re right,” replied the man, putting an arm around her shoulders. “But I wouldn’t trade with anyone in the world right now. And do you know what? I loved that car, you know I did, but I bet you I am going to love our new pram a million times more, especially when it’s got our little princess in it?”
Katy watched, mesmerized, as they both turned to face each other, huge smiles on their faces. Then they kissed, quite passionately, for the middle of a Saturday afternoon in an out-of-town store. When they had finished the man reached inside his jacket and pulled out several sheets of paper.
“So,” he said. “I printed all this stuff off the internet last night, after you’d gone to bed to help us make a decision. Now the best one this website said is that one over there…”
Katy turned away. She couldn’t bear to watch the perfect partnership anymore. She looked again towards the door. Still no sign of Ben.
She hauled herself up and trudged to the check-out gulping back the tears which had suddenly threatened to engulf her. In the middle of her purchases being scanned and packed the sales assistant leant over and gave her a tissue.
“Hormones,” she said kindly. “Happens all the time.”
Absolutely mortified she hurled the bags into her trolley as fast as she could and virtually ran out of the store as if the building was on fire.
“Bloody hell, are there wild tigers in there or something?” she heard Ben say, just as she was careering through the automatic doors.
“Where the hell have you been?” she managed to splutter before bursting into floods of tears whilst trying not to hyperventilate.
“Hey, it’s OK, calm down. Did the other pregnant ladies not play nicely?” he said grinning.
“Stop,” she shouted. “Just stop,” she repeated angrily, looking up at him, bright red in the face. He stared back at her in shock. They didn’t do angry with each other. “I don’t need you to do funny OK? Just stop doing funny.”
“OK,” he replied, the grin wiped off his face. “So what do you need?” he asked slowly.
“I don’t know,” she said desperately. “Just not funny OK. I need …
.I need …I need you to just be there sometimes. You know like when I’m going through hell trying to make a stupid pram stand upright,” she whimpered, staring at the floor.
“I see,” he said quietly. “You need me. That’s a new one.”
“Yep, well you know, just sometimes,” she replied. They both stood for a moment staring at the ground, lost in their own thoughts until Ben gently prized the trolley out of her fingers and took it to the car to unload.
That night the atmosphere in the air was so chilling that it could have been made for horror movies. Pitch black, driving rain, howling a gale and with all manner of sudden bangs and crashes to make you leap out of your skin.
Which was exactly what Katy did when Ben jumped into the car, a flashlight illuminating only his face, as they headed out.
“Don’t go on the moors, lassie, don’t go on them moors now,” he moaned as he hovered in her face.
“Don’t Ben,” she said, swatting him away. She had managed to calm down a little since the shopping trip that afternoon. Ben had profusely apologised on the way home explaining he had got caught up with an old pal who was working in Currys and could get him a discount. She was trying very hard not to be pissed off with him still, especially as she needed every drop of positive energy she had to get her through the dinner party with Matthew and Alison.
Ben switched on the radio to listen intently to the afternoon’s football activity. Katy, her heart still thumping wildly, was busy trying to clear her head of the image of Alison hacking her to death with a bloody axe whilst Matthew dug her grave in a misty forest in the middle of nowhere.
“We’re crap. They all want sacking,” declared Ben eventually, pressing the tuning button repeatedly to try and find some decent music.
“Leave it alone will you,” said Katy.
“Sorry,” he said, skulking down in his seat. There was an awkward silence before Ben dared speak again.
“Well I don’t know about you but I am on the edge of my seat with excitement at the prospect of a night with Dull and Duller. Wonder how long the tour of the famous nursery will take? I actually feel as if I have decorated it myself, Lady Alison has described it in so much detail.”
“Don’t remind me,” said Katy, her heart sinking at the prospect. “I’m going to feel so inadequate.”
“No way. You listen here Katy,” said Ben, pulling himself up in his seat. “You will not be an anal mum who turns her children into serial killers. You are going to be as cool as fuck and this baby is going to love you for it.”
Katy allowed herself to smile. “Do you know what Ben? That might have been the nicest thing you have ever said to me.”
“Well I aim to please,” he said. “I do try,” he added when Katy looked sideways at him. “So where the heck are we going then?” he asked changing the subject.
“It should be just up here on the right.”
Ben let out a long low whistle as the large, detached, new-build house came into sight.
“Wow, it’s a mini mansion. No more Lady Alison, its Lady Alison of WAG Towers from now on,” exclaimed Ben.
The wheels of Katy’s car scrunched on the neat gravel drive as they pulled up to the door. They were instantly bathed in a welcoming pool of orange light as ornate wrought iron lanterns came to life, illuminating them and the enormous front porch. Two beautifully-manicured, miniature trees in shiny copper tubs stood guard on either side of an imposing glossy black door with a very large moulded brass handle in the centre. The effect was more high-end restaurant than family home, thought Katy.
“It’s bigger than school,” exclaimed Ben to Katy as he helped pull her fit to burst body out of the car. “They must be minted. Perhaps we should consider actually being good mates with them. There could be fringe benefits.”
“Here, let me,” said Matthew appearing at Ben’s side and grabbing Katy’s hand.
Katy jumped at the physical contact and withdrew her hand sharply. There had been no touching since the reunion.
“I’m pregnant, not disabled,” she said as she wobbled upright and slammed the door behind her.
“Of course,” said Matthew. “Sorry. Look get inside quick. Don’t get wet.” He rushed forward and held open the thick black door, inviting them in to an imposing double height hall.
“Sorry but do you mind if you take your shoes off. New carpets have just been laid,” he said as Katy crossed the threshold.
Katy looked at him to see if he was joking but he was obviously serious. She had a thing about people who asked visitors to take their shoes off. It always made her feel like something the cat had dragged in. She kicked off her shoes refusing to put them neatly on the shoe rack supplied for the convenience of guests.
“You sure Al would rather have my smelly, holey footie socks?” Ben piped up, waving his left foot in the air, revealing a worn through sock with a big toe sticking out.
“Come through,” said Matthew ignoring Ben. “Alison is just finishing off in the kitchen.”
“Hey mate, do you want to show me that programme now, just in case I get too drunk to truly appreciate the piece of history I’ll be holding in my hands?” said Ben as they moved through into the sitting room.
“I guess so,” said Matthew as if he had only just noticed that Ben was there. “Come through to my office. We’ll be back in a minute Katy.”
Katy stood in the middle of the sitting room which must have been at least twenty-five feet long, feeling lost and unsure what to do. She slowly looked around, admiring first the beautiful low-slung designer settee with its soft camel suede cushions symmetrically placed in each corner. She then noticed the state of the art floor lamp she had seen in a very expensive designer store in Leeds, which arched gracefully into the centre of the room to hover over a perfectly weathered coffee table. A super sleek Bose hi-fi system sat on a glass shelf and emitted wonderfully calming sounds as she walked to the other end of the room and stroked her hand down swathes of deep chocolate slubbed silk that hung from a thick wooden pole. She gently pushed the curtains aside and peeped behind them at the illuminated, perfectly manicured lawn. She turned and wandered back into the centre of the room and was just wondering what she could spy on next when her eyes rested on two impressively tall sculptural candlesticks that book-ended the obligatory row of photographs on the mantelpiece.
She took a sharp intake of breath.
This was it, Matthew’s life. The life he had lived without Katy but with Alison. Summarised in half a dozen images staring back at her, framed in matching understated brushed silver chrome.
She went slowly towards the mantelpiece, a little unsure whether she really wanted to see and even more unsure as to why she was unsure.
They were pretty predictable. Crazy young dating couple at a party. First summer holiday together. First skiing holiday together. First black-tie do together. First professional shot which was probably an engagement picture. And of course a glorious wedding photograph. Katy found herself scrutinizing Matthew’s face in each shot. She looked at his eyes and his mouth and then his body language. She realised she was trying to see if he looked happy. Happy in his post-Katy life.
She jumped as Alison came into the room.
“Sorry about that, just finishing off some little nibbles,” she said as she placed two dishes of food on the coffee table.
“Nice photos,” she finally forced out, at a loss as to what to say.
“Oh thank you. I do love our wedding photograph, it’s just so us.”
Katy looked again at the largest frame and took in the artful black and white image. Matthew and Alison stood gazing into each others’ eyes on the steps of what looked like a castle.
“So where did you get married?” she asked tentatively, not sure she liked the subject of conversation.
“Well, we found this brilliant castle in Hampshire with its own chapel. It was so perfect. It was hard work finding the right place though. We seemed to be viewing venues for weeks before we were satisfied. I sti
ll have a file this thick of everywhere we went to see, so if you are ever thinking of taking the plunge, you know where to come. You’re not married are you, you and Ben?”
“No, maybe one day, who knows?” Katy said unable to meet Alison’s eye.
“I was wondering if you were waiting until the baby is born?” she asked.
“No. We haven’t really got that far yet.”
“Well you never know, Ben might have it all planned. The minute you give birth, he’ll pop the question,” Alison ploughed on.
“Pop what question?” Ben asked as he strode back in the room.
“I was just being nosy Ben. I was asking if you have any plans to get married. I’m good at organising weddings you see.”
“I don’t think that is really anything to do with us Alison,” said Matthew sharply.
“Don’t worry. Me and Katy don’t worry about such formalities,” said Ben falling onto the sofa. “I reckon one day we will just wake up and say, you know what, let’s get married. We are more a spur of the moment, fly by the seat of our pants kind of couple, aren’t we love.”
“That’s right,” said Katy, looking anywhere but at Matthew. “Definitely.”
“My word Al, is this tea?” asked Ben. “We’ll have to have a chinky on the way home at this rate,” he continued in a stage whisper to Katy.
“No, no, they are just some nibbles before we sit down to eat properly.”
“I’m just pulling your leg. Right, did someone say go? I’m starving,” he said, picking up an entire plate and helping himself.
Finally, after half an hour of embarrassingly awkward small talk, Alison announced that dinner would be ready in ten minutes.
“Would you like to see the nursery before we sit down?” asked Alison.
Katy and Ben looked at each other. Katy knew that it was the last thing she wanted to do.
“Love to,” said Ben, with a shrug to Katy. “Which wing is it in?”
“It’s ridiculously big, isn’t it,” said Alison as she led them upstairs. “But Matthew got such a good package when he was made partner that it meant we could afford this.”