by Lynsey James
‘Amanda, my parents don’t have anything against you. Come on, come and stand over there with us. The more, the merrier eh?’
A slow smile spreads across her face and she nods. ‘OK then, I’d love to!’
We begin making our way to the other side of the bonfire, mumbling ‘excuse me’ and ‘sorry’ to anyone we knock against. Snaking through a crowd at twenty-four weeks pregnant isn’t the easiest task, but we manage it.
Until, that is, a very familiar and unwelcome face stops us in our tracks.
Adam Hartwell.
His features haven’t changed a bit since high school: he still has the same curly black hair, dark eyes and olive complexion. He’s filled out a little over the years, but he looks as though he’s just stepped out of the Silverdale Comprehensive yearbook.
‘What the hell are you doing here?’ Amanda hisses. ‘Didn’t you humiliate me enough the last time we saw each other? Remember, you kicked me out of your house.’
He puts his hands up in an ‘I come in peace’ gesture. ‘I’m not here to argue, Amanda. I’m here to talk to you, about our baby.’
She rolls her eyes. ‘It’s a bit late to play the doting dad, Adam. I’m on my feet now and I did it all without your help.’
His gaze falls to the ground and he sighs. ‘I know I acted like an arsehole—’
‘You can say that again,’ I say. ‘How could you throw the mother of your child out on the street with nowhere to go?’
Adam looks at me, his brow furrowing. ‘Do I know you?’
‘Cleo Jones, but you might remember me as Chunky Monkey. I did the speech at the ten-year reunion last year.’
It takes a second for his brain to kick in, but he nods slowly in recognition. ‘Oh yeah, I remember now! Hey, didn’t I chuck punch over you at the Leavers’ Dance?’
A blush creeps over my cheeks at the memory. ‘That’s right.’
‘Yeah, you got hot,’ he says with an approving smile. ‘Good for you.’
Scott steps over to us, casting Adam a funny look. ‘Everything OK over here? The fireworks are just about to start.’
Adam sneers at him. ‘Who’s this Amanda, another guy you managed to trap under your spell? What lies have you told this one then?’
‘Actually, I’m Cleo’s boyfriend,’ he replies. ‘Who are you?’
‘He’s nobody,’ Amanda snaps, glaring at Adam. ‘In fact, he was just leaving. Go on, go away. I don’t want anything to do with you.’
His nostrils flare and his cheeks pink up, although I’m not sure whether it’s from the cold or embarrassment.
‘You haven’t heard the last of this,’ he says softly. ‘I’m not going to go away that easily. I’ll sue you for full custody if I have to, you’re not fit to be a mum.’
Scott squares up to him, getting in between him and Amanda so he can’t get to her.
‘All right mate, I think it’s time to leave don’t you? Everyone’s just trying to have a nice night here and we don’t need anybody ruining it.’
Adam picks up on the menacing note running through Scott’s voice and promptly backs off, slinking off into the night.
‘Thanks,’ Amanda says with a smile. ‘I really appreciate that.’
He shakes his head and says ‘fuggedaboutit’ in his best New York accent. I’m embarrassed by how attractive I find it.
The five of us huddle in close as we wait for the fireworks, our numbers soon boosted by Emma arriving. After making sure Amanda’s out of earshot, I take my best friend to one side.
‘Are you still planning my baby shower?’ I ask in hushed tones.
‘Yeah, it’s in a couple of weeks. How come?’ Emma asks.
‘I’ve got an idea …’
*
It might sound like an awful idea to share a baby shower with your sort-of friend and former high school bully.
Yet on a freezing cold day in late November, that’s exactly what I plan to do. While Emma gets everything ready over at the Bell and Candle, I’m tasked with getting Amanda there without letting her in on the surprise.
Easier said than done, as it turns out.
‘Why do you want to go over to the pub?’ she asks, wrinkling her nose. ‘I thought it was closed today. Some sort of private party.’
‘No, I think that’s just in the function room,’ I reply, my voice wavering dangerously as I try to keep my big secret locked inside. ‘I thought we could just go for a catch-up, you know? You could tell me what’s happening with Adam.’
Her face sours as soon as his name’s mentioned. ‘Don’t talk to me about that toxic bastard. He’s still in the village, as far as I know. I think he’s holed up at his parents’ place.’
I can tell I’m going to have to seriously grasp at straws to get her to come with me. My brain makes frantic scrambles as it tries to find a viable excuse.
‘Well … you deserve a chance to relax. Stress isn’t good for the baby after all. Come on, one orange juice then you can head home and plan all sorts of evil revenge on Adam.’
Her eyes narrow then her face breaks out into a smile. ‘Go on then, one drink won’t hurt.’
I breathe a sigh of relief as she goes to grab her coat. Thank goodness I’m able to think on my feet.
‘So …’ I say, hoping to appear nonchalant. ‘Have you thought of any baby names yet?’
She shrugs and grimaces. ‘Not really. Every time I think I’ve found one I like, I remember someone I don’t like with that name! So far, I’ve discounted Adam, Jake, Sam, Connor and Thomas. I think I might just see what the baby looks like when he gets here. What about you? Any names for your little girl?’
‘Scott and I have been battling over it for ages now,’ I reply with a chuckle. ‘We’ve got a bigger list of names we don’t like than names we do like! The only we seem to agree on is Violet. He thinks my suggestions are too “out there” and I think his are old-fashioned!’
Amanda grins. ‘I saw you two were love’s young dream a couple of weeks ago at the bonfire. You fixed things then?’
I nod, feeling my insides warm as I think of how perfect the last month or so has been. ‘We both fixed things, really. His mum was involved in a car accident and it just … it brought us together. We agreed to give things another try and it’s been amazing so far.’
I notice her face fall a little and make a mental note to keep a check on my gushing. She’s going through a really difficult time and me banging on about how perfect things are won’t make her feel any better.
We reach the pub, which almost looks deserted. It’s a particularly foggy day today too, so it looks like the set of a horror movie.
‘Are you sure the pub’s open today?’ Amanda asks. ‘It looks pretty quiet to me and I can’t hear any music.’
‘Yeah, I’m positive.’ I go over to the door and open it, letting her inside before I follow her. The pub’s main bar is shrouded in darkness until all the lights go on and my favourite people pop up from all corners of the room, which has been decked out in a vintage tea party theme.
‘SURPRISE!’ they all yell as party poppers are let off everywhere.
Amanda’s hands fly to her mouth as she realises what’s happening. She looks at me then at the crowd of people.
‘Is this …? Did you …?’ She points at the stands of blue and pink iced cupcakes, the vintage bunting and piles of presents.
I nod. ‘It’s a baby shower for both of us. I want us to share today together. What do you think?’
For the first time ever, I see tears spill down Amanda’s pretty face. She chokes out a thank you amidst her sobs and opens her arms to hug me.
‘Thank you so much,’ she cries. ‘This means so much to me.’
‘You’re welcome,’ I reply, giving her a squeeze. ‘Now, let’s have a great time eh?’
As I watch Amanda join the party, reluctantly at first but soon settling in, I feel a lump rise in my throat. Seeing her with next to no support makes me realise how lucky I am; I have a wonderful sup
port network of people who’ll help make having a baby my biggest adventure yet.
I think back to when I found out I was pregnant, and how things have changed. In just under three months, my life will change again and the next chapter of my life will begin.
And I can honestly say I can’t wait.
Chapter Twenty-Two
The baby shower is a complete success. Amanda gets lots of essentials for her baby boy, including baby-grows, bottles and toys. Her face lights up as she opens parcel after parcel, which brings tears of joy to my eyes.
‘You’ve done a really lovely thing,’ Scott whispers in my ear. ‘Look how happy she is.’
I smile and link our hands. ‘I’m really glad she’s having such a good time. The baby’s dad isn’t in the picture; he was the bloke who turned up at the bonfire talking about sole custody. Her mum’s not really been involved much either, so I thought having a joint baby shower would be nice.’
‘And that …’ he replies, kissing the top of my head, ‘… is why I love you.’
Baby Robinson does pretty well in the present stakes too. Marilyn and Donald buy me a beautiful blush pink pram with a matching car seat and changing bag. Marilyn also presents a gorgeous little white cardigan that she’s spent the last three months or so working on, along with a huge giftbag of outfits and toys. Emma’s gift is a beautiful hand-made toy elephant wearing a ballerina tutu. Zara is noticeably absent again, but has asked Emma to give me her gift – one of those baby essentials baskets filled with shampoo and other toiletries.
Then, the time comes to receive Mum and Dad’s gift. I can tell Mum’s a little apprehensive that their gift won’t be as good as Marilyn and Donald’s, but she plasters a smile to her face nonetheless.
‘This is just a little something,’ Dad says, shuffling a large box towards Scott and me.
Inside is a beautiful hand-crafted dollhouse. The front is painted powder blue and there are white shutters on the windows. I feel a lump in my throat.
‘Oh my god, this is beautiful,’ I say. ‘She’s going to love this when she’s older! Wait … isn’t this the one I had when I was a kid?’
The more I look at it, the more I recognise it. Someone’s taken a lot of time to restore it, but it’s definitely the same one.
Dad blushes and nods. ‘I dug it out of the attic a couple of months ago and started working on it. I know how much you loved it when you were a kid, so I thought I’d fix it up so your little girl can enjoy it too.’
I jump up from my seat and throw my arms round my dad’s neck.
‘Thank you,’ I say. ‘Thank you so much.’
*
Later that week, it’s time for another Carb Counters meeting. I’m a little tired thanks to an epic trip with Scott round a DIY shop to get paint for the nursery. They’re not fun places anyway, but they’re even worse when you’re six months pregnant.
‘OK, does anyone want to talk about the week they’ve had?’ I ask, taking my seat in the circle. ‘Or any worries they might have? We’re getting pretty close to Christmas and that can be a tough time to be on a diet.’
I cast a glance at Zara, who came into the meeting with bloodshot eyes. I’ve wanted to take her aside and ask her what’s wrong, although I have a feeling I already know, but there hasn’t been time so far.
Sheila raises her hand and I struggle to keep a straight face. She’s been a member of the group for years now and keeps losing and gaining the same seven pounds, with no idea why she’s going round in circles.
‘I’ve got three Christmas dinners to go to on the same day,’ she says. ‘And I don’t know what cake to take. I’m torn between coffee and walnut or a Victoria sponge.’
A small ripple of laughter erupts from the group. It’s been obvious to me for ages that Sheila just comes to the group to socialise with the other members and that losing weight isn’t really important to her. The previous leader, Marjorie, got frustrated with her but I think she’s endearing.
‘Well, what do we think?’ I ask the group. ‘Let’s do a show of hands. Hands up for coffee and walnut cake.’
Four hands go up.
‘OK, and how about Victoria sponge?’
The remaining eleven people’s hands shoot into the air, giving Sheila a clear winner.
‘There you go,’ I say with a smile. ‘Are you sure you don’t fancy trying the Carb Counters guilt-free Christmas pudding? Remember, it’s in the recipe book.’
The group gives a collective shudder as we remember the recipe book Marjorie put together. Most of the recipes were absolutely putrid and we had to pretend to Marjorie that we loved them.
‘The less said about that recipe book, the better,’ Sheila says with a grimace. ‘I think I’ll stick to my Victoria sponge!’
‘I don’t blame you!’ I look at Zara. ‘So Zara … do you fancy telling us about your week? You lost three pounds, which is amazing. How did you do it?’
She stares back at me, the corners of her mouth turned down and her eyes glassy.
‘Well …’ she chokes out. ‘It’s pretty easy to lose weight when you’ve got a broken heart.’
My worst fears have just been confirmed. I sigh, wishing I hadn’t made her say anything.
‘Alright,’ I say, getting up from my seat and clapping my hands. ‘Why don’t we go and get ourselves ready for the workout?’
The rest of the group disperses, but I manage to catch Zara before she goes with them.
‘Hey, what’s going on?’ I whisper. ‘Did something happen with you and Craig?’
She scoffs and pulls her arm out of my grip. ‘Like you’d care. I bet you and Emma had a sweepstake going to see how long it would be before things went wrong.’
‘Of course not! I’ll admit, I was a bit sceptical when you got back together with him because of everything that’s happened before, but I want you to be happy. What happened?’
Zara’s breathing quickens and I can tell she’s desperately trying not to cry. ‘He’s having a baby … with another woman. One of his old flings from when we split up called him and told him she was pregnant. She’s due in April. On my birthday, actually.’
My mouth falls open and I clap my hand over it. ‘Oh my god Zara, I’m so sorry. You must be devastated. Why didn’t you tell me? I could’ve been there for you.’
She shakes her head. ‘You’ve had more than enough to deal with recently. Just ignore me, I’ll be fine.’
I reach out to pull her into a hug, but she spins on her heel and runs off to join the others without another word.
*
I feel like I’ve got the weight of the world on my shoulders as I head back home that night. Zara stormed off at the end of the session without giving me a chance to speak to her, and she hasn’t responded to the three texts I’ve sent.
Scott’s leaning against the banister with a satisfied grin on his face when I get home. There’s a mysterious streak of green paint on his cheek and his hair is speckled with white.
‘You look happy,’ I say, raising an eyebrow. ‘Are you hiding something?’
He shrugs at first, something he knows gets on my nerves. He scrunches up his mouth, like he’s trying to keep a huge secret from escaping.
‘Come on,’ I whine, ‘what is it?’
‘I’ve got a surprise for you,’ he replies, taking my hand in his. ‘It’s upstairs.’
I roll my eyes and grin. ‘If it’s what I’m thinking of, you gave me the same surprise this morning when you brought me breakfast in bed.’
‘Cheeky! No, it’s in here.’ He stops outside the box room, which is usually the place I dump all the clutter I don’t know what to do with. ‘Close your eyes.’
I do as I’m told and he places his hands over them to make sure I don’t peek. I hear the door creak open as he gently leads me inside.
‘You know how we haven’t decorated the nursery yet …’ he says, trailing off.
‘Yeah, because the box room’s an absolute tip. Is this why you’ve had
it sealed off for the past two days and won’t tell me what you’re doing in here?’
‘Maybe …’ he replies. I can hear the laughter in his voice. ‘OK, open them.’
When I open my eyes, my breath catches in my throat. The walls have been painted the beautiful spring green colour we picked out together, while the facings and skirting boards have been given a fresh lick of white paint. The floorboards have been sanded with care and the dollhouse my dad restored is sitting in the corner. My eyes are drawn to the left hand wall, where there’s a beautiful woodland mural with a fox, bumblebee and daisies.
‘I know it’s missing furniture,’ he says. ‘But what do you think?’
‘It’s … Oh, come here.’ Words fail me as pure emotion takes over. I spin round and grab Scott, pulling him in for a kiss.
‘You like it then?’ He laughs as our lips part.
‘I love it!’ I squeal. ‘It’s gorgeous. Did you paint that mural over there?’
He nods. ‘I was thinking about that day we went for a walk in the woods and started talking about kids and … I dunno, I thought it’d be nice to have it on the wall.’
I tilt my head to one side. ‘Since you gave me such a lovely surprise, why don’t I give you one of my own?’
His eyebrows shoot up and a knowing grin spreads over his face. ‘Oh, and what might that involve?’
I put my hand on his chest and gently push him out the baby’s room. ‘Well, if I told you that, it wouldn’t be a surprise, would it?’
*
Since I found out I was pregnant, I’ve grown to love it and be excited about the changes my body is going through. The bump came first and, although that was hard to adjust to in the beginning, I’ve grown pretty attached to it now. Every time my little girl kicks, it’s a reminder of the epic adventure we’re about to go on together.
However, some of the changes I’m not so crazy about.
Mainly, the fact that sex has become an Olympic gymnastics routine.
The morning after the Carb Counters meeting, I wake Scott up with a kiss. He murmurs and stirs before greeting me with a sleepy smile. It takes him a moment to take in what I’m wearing: a satin dressing gown and matching nightie.