Baby, Me, OMG: Motherhood fiction (Surprise Baby Romance)

by Suzy K Quinn

  I asked if Jemima liked staying in Great Oakley.

  Alex gave me that half-smile of his and said, ‘Of course. Why wouldn’t she?’

  I said, ‘I just thought … I mean, you Daltons are well-travelled. I thought Great Oakley might seem too small for her. She might want to live in London eventually.’

  Alex said Jemima loved Great Oakley.

  As we were talking, fireworks went off along the river.

  Suddenly, I thought of the burn on Alex’s arm and said, ‘You must hate Bonfire Night.’

  Alex said, ‘Loathe it. But that’s our secret.’

  ‘We didn’t have to go running tonight,’ I said. ‘You could have cancelled.’

  ‘Fire doesn’t bother me anymore,’ Alex replied. ‘Although I’d never let Jemima stay in Great Oakley on Bonfire Night. So I suppose I still carry a few scars.’

  I was a teensy bit drunk at that point – all that running had burned out the contents of my stomach. So I said, ‘There were rumours about that fire. No one knows what to believe.’

  Alex’s expression didn’t change at all. But he said, ‘Great Oakley likes its rumours. Tell me. Would this be the rumour about my father setting our house alight for insurance purposes? Or the rumour that he left me in there to burn?’

  I felt awful then. Because it’s true – they were the rumours.

  Alex took a sip of whisky and said, ‘When the house was on fire, Dad got me out. And Zach. So you see, Mr Dalton Senior isn’t all bad. And no – it wasn’t an insurance job. A firework set the stables alight, and the fire spread to the house.’

  ‘So how come you got burned?’ I asked. ‘No one else was hurt.’

  I knew I’d gone too far then, because Alex looked out at the boats bobbing in the water and said, ‘Let’s talk about something else.’

  So we did. We talked about growing up in the village, and the woods and the fishing stream and all the things we both did as children.

  I teased Alex about being the stuck-up rich kid and he teased me for being a chatterbox and wearing too many bright colours.

  He said, ‘You were always the curly-haired blonde girl with the big voice and the bright pink cycling shorts.’

  Of all the things he could remember … those cycling shorts!

  And then he looked all serious and asked me if I remembered the rope swing.

  I said, ‘The ten-foot-high one? The one that kid got knocked unconscious on? Of course I do. It’s still there, isn’t it?’

  Alex said, ‘Do you remember the day I wouldn’t get on it?’

  I said yes.

  I remember that day very well, actually. Some older boys teased Alex for being a wimp, and he nearly got into a fight.

  Alex said, ‘My father beat me with a cricket bat that morning. So hard I couldn’t sit down. That’s why I wouldn’t get on the swing.’

  I was completely shocked. First, that his dad did that to him. I mean, posh families don’t do things like that, do they? And second that he was telling me, of all people.

  I said, ‘That’s … shit.’

  Because I couldn’t think of a better way to say it.

  Alex said, ‘Do you remember the four-leaf clover?’

  I laughed and said, ‘Yes!’

  Fancy him remembering.

  Alex was about to fight the older boys who were teasing him, but I found this perfect four-leaf clover and gave it to him. I told him it was special and he mustn’t break it by fighting.

  It worked – Alex didn’t fight.

  Alex said he was always grateful for the four-leaf clover. Because when you can barely walk, fighting is never a good idea.

  Alex said, ‘I’ve never told anyone that before.’

  I said, ‘About not wanting to fight?’

  And he said, ‘No. About the cricket bat.’

  I felt like the whole room got really quiet. Like there was no one else around. Just the two of us.

  Then Alex leaned forward and kissed me.

  It was amazing. Just AMAZING.

  Like being swept away.

  Fireworks exploded along the river in showers of gold and silver.

  Then Alex pulled back and he said, ‘I shouldn’t have done that.’

  I said, ‘Why not?’

  He said, ‘You and Nicholas Spencer. You have unresolved issues.’

  I was all breathless, but I managed to say, ‘What’s to resolve? He ran off with my bridesmaid.’

  Alex said, ‘But you’d still get back together with him. Wouldn’t you?’

  I said, ‘I don’t know.’

  He said, ‘That’s the trouble.’

  We sat holding hands for … I don’t know. Maybe twenty minutes or something. Looking at each other. Not saying anything.

  And then, bloody Helen came bobbing up to the table. I’d forgotten that she and Henry drink at the Yacht Club sometimes.

  She said in her horrible shrill voice, ‘Alex. What a pleasure to see you. I’ve just been talking to your mother about arrangements for the New Year’s Eve Ball.’

  Then she pretended to look all surprised to see me. ‘Juliette! Goodness, I didn’t expect to see you here. Where’s baby Daisy? Have you left her to the wolves?’

  She was wearing a Vivienne Westwood suit that made her look like Cruella de Vil.

  Henry was swaying beside her, clearly extremely drunk.

  I told Helen that Daisy was with Mum. And Helen said, ‘Well I suppose your mother knows all about babies. She’s had enough of them.’

  Alex didn’t take his eyes off me. He kept a firm grasp of my hand and said, ‘Good evening Mrs Jolly-Piggott. My solicitor Jeremy Samuels sends his regards. He’s representing Juliette now. So any comments you have to make, make through him.’

  Helen’s mouth fell clean open.

  Then she stammered that she thought Ted Grunty was representing me, and why wasn’t she told about this new development? She shouted at Henry for not passing correspondence on to her. Then she said, ‘Well! I suppose legal matters and socialising don’t mix. Isn’t that what they say? So. Anyway, Henry and I were just getting a drink.’

  Alex said, ‘It looks like Henry has drunk enough for both of you.’

  I started giggling. Once I start giggling I can’t stop. And I didn’t. Not when Alex led me out of the Yacht Club, or up the little roads back to my parent’s pub.

  I was still giggling when we reached my front door.

  Alex said, ‘You’ve got to stop that now.’

  I asked, ‘Why?’

  He said, ‘Because otherwise I can’t say goodnight.’

  I was suddenly all serious. I said, ‘Goodnight Alex.’

  Alex said, ‘Goodnight Juliette.’

  He stood watching me for a moment, with that little smile of his. He said, ‘I’m usually so in control.’

  And then he kissed me again.

  It absolutely took my breath away.

  He was so sexy. So warm. So dangerous. So … everything. And I didn’t want it to end.

  When Alex pulled back, I was left all giddy and silly, holding onto the front door.

  Alex said, ‘I’ll see you tomorrow for training.’

  I think I must have said okay. I remember nodding dumbly, at least.

  ‘Eight o’clock,’ he said. ‘Be ready.’

  Friday November 6th

  Morning

  How can time be going so slowly? When will eight o’clock be here?

  Afternoon

  Too nervous to eat.

  I just can’t stop thinking about Alex.

  This is madness.

  Daisy slept soundly last night. Yet I was wide awake – crazy infatuated like a teenager.

  Oh this is ridiculous. I’m a mum now. A single mum. I don’t have silly romances. None of this makes sense.

  It was just kissing. Just stupid, drunken kissing.

  Oh my God!

  What am I going to say to Alex? Are we going to pretend like it didn’t happen?

  Will he want to
forget all about it?

  Or … or …

  6pm

  Crazy storm outside.

  It’s like the world knows something is happening. And all this energy is just flying around the sky.

  7pm

  Alex just rang the pub.

  He said, ‘Juliette?’

  And I sort of squeaked ‘Yes.’

  I knew it was him, but I said, ‘Um … who is it?’

  He laughed and said, ‘You know who it is.’ Then he said, ‘We can’t run tonight. It’s treacherous out there. But can I see you?’

  God – I couldn’t speak then. It was like my whole throat had closed up.

  See me? Why? To tell me last night was a stupid mistake?

  I managed to say okay, and he said he was coming straight over to pick me up.

  Am now shitting myself, waiting for his car to pull up.

  11pm

  Alex arrived ten minutes after he phoned.

  I met him at the front door – he was standing under a huge black umbrella, looking all serious and brooding.

  We went to his MG and he turned up all the heaters and felt my fingers.

  He said, ‘You’re freezing. Don’t your parents heat that pub?’

  Which actually they don’t most of the time. Dad is very conservative with things like heating. And Mum doesn’t feel the cold because of all the Chicago Town pizza she eats.

  Alex said he’d been thinking about me. And about last night.

  I felt all nervous then. In the pit of my stomach. I felt like he was about to give me the Dear Juliette speech.

  I said, ‘Shall we go for a drive then?’

  He gave me that quirky smile of his and said, ‘Unless you’d prefer to take the bus?’

  I said, ‘I wouldn’t mind. I like the bus.’

  Alex said, ‘Christ – how can you? It’s so slow.’

  The storm had cleared up by then and the stars were out.

  Alex drove us through the village, past the maypole green and all the boutique cottage shops.

  A few teenagers were on ladders putting up Christmas decorations – the usual flashing tinsel bells and stars. They’d already strung fairy lights around the church tower.

  Alex drove us up the farm track by Bluebell Woods. He parked the car up right by the stream – the one we used to play in as kids. By the rope swing.

  He said, ‘Whenever I see that rope swing I think of you. Do you know that?’

  I asked, ‘Since when?’

  And he said, ‘Since always.’

  My heart was beating so fast.

  Alex was watching me so intensely. I could hear him breathing, and I could hear my own breathing too – really fast, like butterfly wings.

  And then Alex kissed me again, one hand in my hair and the other on my cheek.

  We kissed for a long time.

  And then he rolled down the car seat so I tipped back. He was on top of me after that, kissing me so fiercely I could hardly breathe.

  He stripped off my clothes. And his clothes too.

  And I remember him stroking my hair and kissing my eyelids, my lips, my neck … everywhere.

  Before I knew what was happening, he was inside me. Staring into my eyes.

  All those times with Nick – they were nothing. Nothing at all.

  With Alex, it was like floating around the clouds.

  Afterwards we just lay there for the longest time, gazing at each other.

  Then I started worrying about Daisy and said I should get back.

  Alex helped me get dressed. He asked me if I was okay. If I was comfortable.

  That sort of broke the magic and I felt a bit awkward.

  I tried to break the ice by joking, ‘We couldn’t have done that on the bus.’

  Alex said, ‘Christ, what’s happening to me? I’m usually so in control.’

  I didn’t know what to say to that. So I didn’t say anything.

  Alex started the car.

  We drove for a few minutes in silence, and then Alex said, ‘You know, this car means a lot to me.’

  I said, ‘Is that why you hate public transport so much? Because you’re in love with this car?’

  It was meant to be another joke, but Alex said, ‘I do love this car.’

  I said, ‘It’s just a thing. How can you love a thing?’

  He said, ‘I bought it when I turned over my first million. Without trampling over people. Without underpaying the staff. Without blackmailing the competition. I proved that I wasn’t my father. So it means something to me. About what I am and what I’m not. And it’s not bloody flashy.’

  I said, ‘Well it is a bit flashy. I mean, you’re the only person in the village who has one.’

  He said, ‘It would be a bit hard for anyone else to have a car like this. It’s one of a kind.’

  When Alex dropped me at the pub he said, ‘Wrap up warm in there. No more cold hands.’

  I sort of lingered for a few seconds. Wanting to kiss him goodbye or something. But then Mum shouted, ‘That SODDING wastepipe is blocked again.’ So I just said, ‘Bye.’ And ran inside.

  Saturday November 7th

  Afternoon

  Helen just called asking if we could arrange for Nick to see Daisy.

  Told her I had to go, because Alex Dalton would probably be calling for me soon.

  Bit childish I know. But wanted to let her know I’m not sitting around waiting for Nick.

  Evening

  Have now come crashing down to reality.

  Alex hasn’t called. Or showed up for running.

  I’ve been watching the news to see if a Dalton hotel has been hit by a hurricane. Or similar disaster that would mean Alex leaving the country in a hurry.

  But nothing.

  Feel pretty low and stupid and humiliated.

  When a man doesn’t call after sex, it’s because he isn’t interested. End of story.

  Feel like such an idiot for getting it SO wrong. Again.

  Stupid.

  Stupid, stupid, stupid.

  Sunday November 8th

  Remembrance Sunday

  No call from Alex.

  Yesterday could have had some weird, random explanation (sudden death of relative, embarrassing diarrhoea virus). But two days in a row …

  Feel angry, in a way.

  I mean, all that talk about rope swings. Doesn’t he know how vulnerable I am? I’ve just been dumped by my fiancé – it’s pretty shitty of him to sleep with me if he’s just going to disappear.

  Sad day all round really.

  Woke up to find Dad at the kitchen table with Granddad’s medals and photos. He was wearing a poppy in his buttonhole and looking teary.

  I asked if he was missing Granddad.

  He said, ‘More than words.’

  He talked about the photos, which were all of Granddad in the Second World War. Granddad was one of the few soldiers who enjoyed it. He liked the camping and fresh air. And he always was a big fan of tinned meat.

  Monday November 9th

  Afternoon

  Nick called today.

  He asked if he could see Daisy, adding, ‘Jules, can we talk? Things aren’t going well with Sadie.’

  I should have told him to go fuck himself, but all this stuff with Alex has messed with my head.

  Nick ended up coming to the Oakley Arms. Which means he must have been pretty desperate to get away from Sadie. He hates Mum and Dad’s pub.

  We sat in the saloon bar with all the regulars staring at us.

  Nick pointed at the big wooden penis on the Christmas tree and said, ‘Your mum’s taste doesn’t change. Fucking hell, this pub still doesn’t serve Peroni?’

  Luckily, none of the family were serving. If Brandi had been behind the bar, she would have smashed a pint glass over his head.

  Nick looked bloody awful actually. Pale. Sad.

  He said, ‘I want you back, Jules. Please come back to me.’

  I said, ‘But you’re living with Sadie. She’s very
pregnant.’

  He said, ‘It doesn’t work – two actors together with only one bathroom. She spends hours in there. Hours. And she’s always on at me about flushing the toilet. Anyway, I’m not one hundred percent sure the baby’s mine.’

  He said Sadie had slept with a director around about the time she got pregnant.

  I told him it sounded like he and Sadie deserved each other.

  He said, ‘Christ, I’m not that bad am I?’

  It was too dark for Nick to take Daisy out (he arrived two hours late because he couldn’t work out the Sunday train timetable), so he ended up playing with her in the pub. He threw her up in the air and said, ‘Say Nick! Say Dadda!’

  When he left, I thanked my lucky stars for how things turned out.

  Spending time with Alex has done me a favour really. It’s made me see there are better men out there than Nick. Even if those better men aren’t interested in an actual serious relationship with me.

  Evening

  Have spent the last half hour watching the window for signs of Alex or his car.

  I don’t know why I’m torturing myself. It’s already been two days. It’s pretty clear what’s going on. Alex is staying away so I don’t get the wrong idea.

  Stupid bloody hope.

  Going to bed now.

  Tuesday November 10th

  No Alex again.

  Friday November 13th

  Told Laura about me and Alex.

  She knew some of it – news of us at the Yacht Club was already circulating the village.

  She also knew that Nick came to see me.

  I asked Laura if she’d had sex with Zach yet, and she said, ‘Of course not.’

  She said she had real feelings for Zach. And she wasn’t going to ruin things by having sex before she knew he felt the same way.

  Bugger.

  Bugger, bugger, bugger.

  Althea made me feel a bit better.

  She said sex was empowering. And that any man who ditched a woman after sex was the sort who’d never empty the dishwasher or replace the toilet roll.

  I said Alex probably pays someone to empty his dishwasher and replace his toilet roll.

  She said, ‘But he’s a right snooty bastard anyway Jules. Why would you want to hook up with someone like that?’

  I told her that he wasn’t that bad, once you got to know him.