by Cathy Kelly
‘I won’t.’
She got up to go and he did too, walking towards her to open the door.
Impulsively, Hannah threw her arms round him. It was the closest she’d ever come to him before, apart from that strange pub lunch when he’d held her hand. As her arms went around his shoulders, his closed round her waist, pulling her closely to him.
Suddenly, he lowered his head to hers and kissed her gently on the lips, his five o’clock shadow grazing her chin. It was a kiss redolent of regret. Not hard and sensual, the way she’d imagined he’d kiss, yet intensely moving all the same. For some strange reason, Hannah wanted it to go on: she wanted to feel his huge hands circling her waist as if she were a slender little thing; she wanted to feel his body crushed against hers and to run her fingers through the salt-and-pepper hair. She wanted to bring him home and tell him he needed a day off, a week off, and…
He pulled away slowly. ‘I meant that,’ he said. ‘Don’t lose touch. I’m your friend, Hannah, and I’m here if you need me. There’ll always be a job for you here.’
Nodding, Hannah hurried out the door, scared that if she didn’t get away, she’d say something she’d regret.
‘What did he mean there’ll be a job for you?’ said Gillian, who’d been standing conveniently beside the photocopier which stood outside David’s office. For a second, Hannah was horror struck at the notion that Gillian might have witnessed the kiss, but then she realized that David’s blinds were down.
‘I’m leaving, Gillian,’ Hannah said far more pleasantly than she felt. She may as well tell them all now.
‘Leaving?’ asked Donna, who was tidying up her desk.
Hannah nodded. ‘Felix and I are getting married. We were going to anyway,’ she said with a sidelong glance at Gillian, ‘but I got pregnant, so we’ve pushed the date forward.’
Gillian was magnanimous in victory. Her most hated enemy was leaving and she could afford to be nice.
‘I’m soo delighted for you, Hannah,’ she said, eyes roving over Hannah’s belly speculatively to figure out how pregnant she was. ‘When’s the happy date? The wedding, I mean?’ she said with a little tinkling laugh.
‘The baby’s due in December and we haven’t organized the wedding yet.’
Thankfully, Gillian’s phone rang so Hannah was spared more questions.
Donna gave her a congratulatory hug. She was happy for Hannah, but her reservations showed in her eyes.
‘You don’t think I’m doing the right thing, do you?’ Hannah asked quietly.
The other woman shrugged. ‘You’re pregnant, in love and about to get married. What could be wrong with that?’ she said wryly.
‘If it’s not too personal a question,’ Hannah said tentatively, ‘why didn’t you stay with Tania’s father? Don’t feel you have to answer.’
‘I did for a while,’ said Donna, speaking quietly so Gillian wouldn’t hear. ‘I thought you had to make a go of it with the father of your child, but he wasn’t worth it. She was, but he wasn’t. I’d made a mistake so I got out of it. Tania and I are better off without him.’
‘Is that what you think about me and Felix?’ Hannah asked fearfully.
Donna shook her head. ‘It’s not my place to say what I think is right or not, Hannah. You’re a grown woman. I respect you and I respect your judgement. You have to do what you think is right. Tell me, are you allowed even half a glass of wine? With enough mineral water added, we could make you a spritzer to last all evening.’
But their plans for a quiet drink went awry as soon as Hannah went out to her car. She was going to meet Donna in McCormack’s and had just phoned Felix on her mobile, leaving a message on his, to say she’d be a bit late. She’d only just unlocked the door when someone said, ‘Hello, Hannah.’
Whirling around, she saw the last person she’d expected: Harry. ‘How dare you creep up on me like that!’ she said, her heart rate belting along with the shock.
‘I didn’t mean to scare you,’ he said apologetically. ‘I wanted to talk to you and I was afraid if I went into the office, your fiancé,’ he said the word with heavy irony, ‘would be coming to pick you up and would thump me.’
‘Brave as ever, eh?’ Hannah said sharply. ‘So you decided to scare me instead?’
She briefly wondered what Felix could have said to make him so frightened. Probably stole the lines from some gangster movie and told Harry he’d be wearing concrete shoes and swimming with the fishes if he didn’t leave her alone.
‘Don’t be like that, Hannah. I wanted to talk to you, that’s all,’ Harry said, going into his sweet little boy mode. He brushed back a lock of long hair and smiled engagingly.
It didn’t work. The bits of Hannah that would have once trilled with excitement at the sight of Harry, trilled no longer.
‘Why?’ she said wearily. ‘I’m meeting someone and I’m too tired to stand up here arguing with you, Harry. I thought I told you I didn’t want to see you again.’
‘You look tired,’ he remarked.
Hannah glared at him. ‘Ever the charmer. Have you thought of giving lessons?’ she asked sarcastically.
‘I didn’t mean it like that.’
Hannah wanted this conversation to end. She didn’t want to be standing by the side of the road talking to a man who’d put her through so much pain. Harry was the past. She had a future and it involved Felix and a baby – she pushed David James and his distracting kiss out of her mind.
‘I am tired, as it happens. It’s called pregnancy,’ she said coldly. Let him put that in his pipe and smoke it.
Harry’s mouth dropped open so wide that she could see his fillings. He had loads of them, she noticed. He’d always had terrible teeth. Hannah couldn’t help smiling to herself. This was the man who’d driven her to distraction when he left her and now she was looking coolly at him, utterly unmoved by his presence and noticing the state of his dental work. Time, and the love of a sexy man, were great healers.
‘Pregnant?’ he repeated.
‘Not the sort of thing you’d be keen on, Harry,’ Hannah said bitchily. ‘Pregnancy is the ultimate in – what was it you said? “Stagnation”, that was it. Aren’t you lucky you escaped without me ever getting pregnant. Then you’d really have been trapped with me.’
Harry stopped trying to look boyishly lovable. ‘You must really hate me, Hannah,’ he said dully.
She leaned against the car, no longer bothered that it was dusty and would mark her suit.
‘I don’t hate you, Harry,’ she told him. ‘I gave up hating you a long time ago. It was too exhausting. I’ve moved on with my life and I wish you’d do the same. What’s the point of coming to see me all the time? I’m with Felix and that’s not going to change. I’d love to be one of those people who stayed best pals with their exes, but I’m not. I’m too black and white for that and, anyhow, the way you left more or less ruined that little idea. I have my pride, you know.’
Harry grinned sheepishly. ‘Yeah, going out to dinner with the guy who ran off on you doesn’t fit in with the “let’s all be pals” scenario,’ he said. ‘We were good together, though, weren’t we?’ he added wistfully.
‘Great,’ Hannah said, thinking of what a bone-idle, daydreaming creature Harry had been when they were living together. He’d done her a favour by dumping her. Otherwise, they’d still be together: him making grandiose plans about the big novel he was going to write and her, adoring as ever, washing and ironing his clothes and playing second fiddle to his ego.
‘I must go,’ she said. ‘Take care, Harry. I mean it,’ she added. She kissed him lightly on the cheek, then got into her car and manoeuvred out of the parking space. In her rear-view mirror, she could see him loping off down the street. She’d told him the truth: she didn’t hate him any more. Harry was out of her life, like David James, she reminded herself firmly. It had been a day for ending things. Closure all round.
The Egypt reunion was due to take place in a Japanese restaurant because none of
them had been there before and it had been getting rave reviews in the papers. But Hannah had phoned on Tuesday, the day before, to explain that she dare not eat anywhere raw fish was part of the menu because it might be dangerous to the baby.
‘Dangerous to the baby,’ Emma repeated bitterly as she marched from the bus stop to the Italian bistro where they were now going. It hadn’t taken Hannah long to change from irate career girl into earth mother extraordinaire, had it? One minute, she was afraid a child would cramp her style – now, she was talking about her baby as if nobody on earth had ever been pregnant before. Emma walked faster, panting at the speed she was going at.
There was no need to walk so quickly, but the bitterness that was fuelling her forced her to march at a fierce pace. Emma had promised her father she’d spend the next two nights looking after Anne-Marie, who now got incredibly upset if she was left on her own or with the neighbours. Emma wasn’t looking forward to it. She felt guilty when she thought about how much she’d prefer an evening with Pete to an evening following her mother around the house, closing cupboards and tidying up the things Anne-Marie wrecked. Tonight, stressed out because an all-day Krisis-Kids conference was being held in Burlington on Friday, she could have done with a quiet night at home rather than an evening of forced jollity. Now she’d have to sit and make congratulatory noises all night after a day of endless phone calls and problems. She had cried off from their last reunion, a trip to the theatre to see Les Liaisons Dang-ereuses, so she had to be there tonight. Leonie would have been so upset if she didn’t come.
She was the first one at the restaurant and sat down in a banquette. La Traviata playing on the sound system, the waft of garlic from the kitchens, red-check tablecloths and candle-grease-splattered wine bottles as candleholders all contributed to the effect of a wonderfully Continental restaurant. Emma ordered a glass of house wine, hoping that it might have a sedative effect on her. Calming down was what she needed.
Half-way down the glass, she was breathing normally and beginning to relax. Leonie and Hannah arrived together, wreathed in smiles as they gave their coats to the waiter. It was nearly six weeks since Emma had seen Hannah and she was astonished to see that Hannah’s belly was gently swelling. She must have been well over two months pregnant and Emma hadn’t expected there to be any obvious signs at all. But, incredibly, in a soft olive-green tunic top and matching clinging skirt, her pregnancy was just visible. Wicked darts of jealousy pierced Emma’s heart as she watched the waiter smile charmingly at Hannah and offer congratulations on her pregnancy in true Italian style. She couldn’t imagine a waiter of any other nationality doing such a thing, or even graciously leading them over to their table as if Hannah was about to give birth en route, extravagantly pulling out the table so that Hannah could slide into the banquette seat with Emma.
‘Emma! Hello, love,’ said Hannah, kissing her.
‘Hi, pet,’ said Leonie warmly, leaning over the candle to kiss Emma and nearly setting fire to her cardigan in the process. ‘Sorry we’re a bit late.’
‘My fault,’ Hannah said apologetically. ‘I’ve finally had to realize that you cannot get by with ordinary clothes when you’re growing as fast as I am.’ She smiled serenely. ‘I was wearing a pair of jeans with a jumper over them, but I couldn’t do the top button, so I had to keep poor Leonie waiting while I found this outfit.’
Under the table, Emma balled her left hand into a tight fist, nails digging into her palm. Anything to stop herself saying something vicious and bitter in response.
Hannah was glowing. Her face, always luminous, glowed with some hidden joy. Her dark hair was luxuriant and she looked, in short, like a woman deeply in love. Emma was horrified to discover how much she resented her friend for all this. It should have been her glowing in the early stages of pregnancy, not Hannah.
Finally getting a grip on her feelings, Emma attempted small talk. ‘You do seem to have expanded since the last time I saw you,’ she said, trying to keep her tone light and pleasant. ‘I didn’t think you’d look this pregnant yet.’
Hannah groaned. ‘Neither did I,’ she revealed. ‘Felix says it’s like sharing the bed with a baby elephant.’
Through two courses, and a lot of debate on what Hannah could and couldn’t eat on the menu, they discussed her pregnancy in fine detail. As Emma prodded her tagliatelle listlessly, she discovered that Hannah didn’t have morning sickness and, apart from two weeks when she was unaccountably tired and could barely get out of bed in the morning, she felt fantastic. Her nails were growing at a terrific rate, she was determined not to get stretch marks so was obsessively rubbing Body Shop stretch-mark lotion into herself twice a day, and Felix was being very funny coming up with the most bizarre baby names.
‘Honestly,’ giggled Hannah, ‘imagine calling a child Petal! My poor mother would disown me if I landed any grandchild of hers with a name like that. But Felix loves it. He’s mad.’
Emma thought her head would explode if she heard one more word. She felt as if she knew Hannah’s doctor intimately and, thanks to a lengthy discussion on expanding clothes sizes, could picture exactly what Hannah would look like naked: that elegantly curvy body now swollen in the most feminine way, breasts full and heavy, a precious swelling in her belly where the baby nestled.
Hannah, joy making her insensitive, continued rhapsodizing over being pregnant.
‘I never thought I’d feel this way about the baby,’ she said earnestly. ‘It’s like nothing else I’ve ever experienced. Half the time I’m paranoid in case I’m doing something that’ll be bad for the baby, the other half, I’m reeling around happily.’
Leonie smiled at her friend and then noticed Emma’s stricken face. She was white, her eyes like two hollows in a skull. Poor, poor Emma. Hannah had forgotten how awful it was for her, Leonie realized with a pang. So had she, really. They’d both been so tied up talking delightedly about the happy event that they hadn’t remembered how devastating it must be for their friend. She felt terribly ashamed.
‘Girls, I almost forgot!’ she said brightly. ‘Hugh brought me to his house the other night and cooked me the most amazing dinner. Crab cakes to start, minute steak and stuffed aubergines and then,’ she paused for effect, ‘this sinful chocolate cake he’d bought. Eating it was like having a multiple orgasm.’
This revelation had the desired result. The other two laughed.
‘Trust you to think chocolate was orgasmic,’ chuckled Emma, thrilled at the change of subject.
‘It’s the only thing that is orgasmic,’ Leonie protested. ‘I’ve forgotten what sex is. My idea of sexual delight is a half-bottle of wine and a decent novel.’
‘You mean you haven’t gone to bed with him yet?’ Hannah was astonished. ‘You’ve been going out for ages.’
‘When you’re my age, you don’t rush into bed with people,’ Leonie said equably. ‘You have to wait three months for the anti-cellulite cream and the Weight Watchers dinners to work.’
‘I don’t know why you’re so keen on having people jumping into bed at the first minute, anyway, Hannah,’ Emma said hotly. ‘Not everyone is like you. There’s more to life than sex.’
‘I know there is,’ Hannah said in surprise. ‘I was joking, that’s all…’
‘Not all your jokes are funny,’ snapped Emma and, getting to her feet, she rushed off in the direction of the loos.
Hannah blinked back tears. She was so emotional these days. ‘What did I say?’ she asked plaintively.
Sighing, Leonie patted her hand. ‘It’s nothing you’ve said, Hannah. You know I’m utterly thrilled that you’re pregnant, but you’ve got to understand, it’s tough on Emma. She loves you but it’s got to hurt her to see you so blissfully happy about the baby when she’d do anything to be in your place.’
‘That’s not my fault,’ Hannah said stubbornly. ‘She could go and do something about it but she won’t. She probably still hasn’t told Pete she thinks she’s infertile. There’s IVF, fertility drugs, ICSI – there
are loads of things they could have done.’
‘I know, I know,’ Leonie comforted. ‘Emma has this mental block about the whole thing. You know she’s convinced that if she has tests and they say she can’t have children, then she’ll have no hope left.’
‘That doesn’t explain why she won’t discuss it with Pete,’ Hannah said.
‘I know. But we could make it a bit easier on her and not talk so exclusively about the baby.’
‘If she didn’t want to come tonight, she shouldn’t have,’ Hannah said. She was hurt that Emma couldn’t share her joy about the baby. She understood wanting something and not having it, but she wouldn’t begrudge Emma if she had something Hannah didn’t. When Hannah had been Felix-less, she hadn’t been jealous that Emma had Pete to come home to every night while she was stuck with the remote control and a dinner for one. How dare she bitch at Hannah now?
‘Don’t get upset,’ Leonie begged, seeing the anger glittering in her friend’s dark eyes. ‘We have been a bit insensitive talking about the baby all night. Give her a break.’
Her face set darkly, Hannah nodded. ‘I don’t want to bore anyone,’ she sniffed.
‘You’re not boring anyone,’ Leonie insisted. ‘I love hearing all about the baby and so would Emma, if only it wasn’t so painful for her. In your heart you know that. Quick, talk about something else. She’s coming back.’
‘Tell us more about the wonderful Hugh,’ Emma said tightly when she sat down.
Hannah said nothing but her full lips were pressed firmly together. Leonie said a silent prayer that they wouldn’t try and kill each other over dessert.
‘Hugh,’ she began cheerfully, ‘is wonderful…’
Normally, the Egypt reunions ended much later than originally planned because they all loved sitting talking, but this time the waiter had barely placed the cafetiere of decaf on the table when Emma announced that she really had to get home.