Time seemed to pass so slowly. I was at home by lunchtime, and although it seemed like hours it was only minutes. I had never felt such loneliness as I did now. There was only one thing for it. I had over five hours to get through before Joe was coming round; the only person I could talk to was my baby.
I didn’t know if it was a bit too soon to be chatting to my unborn child, but I felt comfortable with the thought. It was a bit weird at first, not knowing what to say, but I soon got the hang of it.
‘Hello, little bump. I saw you yesterday, and you looked a bit like a new potato but I know that you are going to be beautiful.’ I felt very emotional. I was talking to someone that I didn’t know, but who would soon take over my life. ‘I haven’t given you the best start that I could, but I promise you that I will get better. I didn’t mean to hurt you, I’d never intentionally hurt you. I am afraid that your welcome to the world might be in the public eye a bit. I will do everything to avoid it, but if that’s the case then we will deal with it. I want to tell you about your father, but all I can say is that it’s one of two men; one I love deeply as a lover and the other I used to love deeply as a friend. I hope and pray that Joe is your father because he’s so wonderful and if you can be a bit like him, then you will be very special. I will bring you up the best I can.’ I wiped away the tears.
‘But I have got lots of love and you’ll get it all, and more, and whatever happens I will protect you. Hopefully I will give you a good life and I promise that although I might be very sad at the moment I will laugh a lot, because laughter is so important. Your maternal grandparents will love you too. I don’t know if you’ll ever meet your other grandparents, it scares me to think about that, so I am sorry, but I will sort it out when you come into the world properly. And in the meantime I promise to look after myself, which means that I’ll take care of you.’ The tears streaming down my face stopped me in my tracks, then the buzzer went.
Not expecting anyone, I answered the intercom to be told there was a delivery for me. I waited at the open door, and was presented with a basket of things. It was from Francesca. In the basket were a whole load of vitamin supplements and a book on pregnancy by Dr Miriam Stoppard. The courier looked terrified as I sobbed while signing his docket.
I think it was a relief that I had a package to focus on, because I had really run out of conversation with my belly. Then I did what I always did when I felt low; I tucked myself into bed and read. This time I was reading about pregnancy.
I could have skipped quite a lot, like the section on deciding to conceive and how to conceive, but I read it. I wanted to devour every word. I was still reading it when the buzzer went again. I looked outside, it was dark. I then realised that the buzzer was telling me Joe was here.
I knew I looked a mess, but there was nothing I could do or wanted to do about that. This wasn’t the sort of conversation when you needed to look glamorous. It wasn’t the sort of conversation you normally had, full stop. As I watched Joe appear from the stairs, I looked at him long and hard because I knew that I might need to memorise his beautiful face in case I didn’t get to see it again.
So much can change in the space of a few days. I had gone from being engaged to the man I loved, to here. With the days’ tears still etched into my face I saw him look at me questioningly, I let him into the flat, sat him down with a glass of wine and prepared to answer his questions. He was wearing a black V-necked jumper over a pair of black Prada trousers. Joe had more designer clothes than I had, and I used to tease him about that. Tease him about how scary it was for a girl to be worse dressed than her man most of the time. I wondered if I ever would again. If there would be any more of that intimate familiarity. His hair was shorter than normal, he must have just had it cut. Would I see it grow longer? I resisted the urge to touch it.
‘Holly, what’s wrong?’ He sat on the sofa and drank his wine. At that moment I would have loved a glass, but resisted the temptation. I was drinkless. He pulled out his cigarettes and I went to get him an ashtray. Again, I had the urge to light up, more because I knew it might calm the storm that was raging in my stomach. I hoped my baby wasn’t going to get sea-sick.
‘Joe, you have to listen to me. I need to tell you something and I need you to promise to listen to every word I say. This might be the most important conversation of our lives.’
‘Shit Hol, you sound so dramatic.’ He didn’t know the half of it.
Then he did. My words tumbled out, but they carried the whole truth. I left nothing out, my honesty was brutal. When I had finished I saw that his eyes were moist.
‘You slept with George?’
‘Yes.’
‘When we argued?’
‘Yes.’
‘And now...you’re pregnant?’
‘Yes, Joe.’
‘And you can’t be sure who the father is?’
‘Not without tests.’ I was struggling, the tears that wouldn’t go away were waiting to return and I was feeling sick and dizzy. It was all I could manage.
‘And George is going to the papers with the marriage-pact story.’
‘Looks that way.’
‘And he doesn’t know you’re pregnant.’
‘No. But I have a feeling I can’t keep it from him forever.’
‘You know that when he finds out he’ll hound you even more. He’ll be convinced that it’s his baby and he’ll use it to try to get you to marry him.’
‘I know.’
‘I want a test,’ he said, suddenly. I looked at him and a pang of love shot through me.
‘I can’t, it might harm the baby, or even bring on a miscarriage. We can’t find out until it’s born. Joe, what do you want to do?’
‘I don’t know. I have no idea. I never in a million years imagined that I would be having this conversation with you.’
‘Me either.’
‘I need to leave now.’
‘Of course you do.’ We stared at each other for as long as we could bear it, and then we both turned away. He stood up and very hesitantly he walked out of the flat. He faltered as if his feet might change their minds and turn around; but he never looked back at me, not once.
When he had gone, my sobs returned. I was frustrated with all my tears but feared that they would soon have squatters rights, they spent so much time on me. What I needed was a laugh or two, and that meant it was time to call Lisa. If she couldn’t cheer me up, then no one would.
When she heard my voice begging her to come over she dropped everything. Lisa isn’t big on questions which is another reason why she was so perfect. I called Freddie and told him about Joe, or as much as I could bear and he told me that he was making progress with the tabloids but didn’t have anything confirmed yet. Then I called Francesca and thanked her for the parcel and she seemed to understand that I didn’t want to talk further. Then I read Miriam’s view on pregnancy and alcohol.
Reading it, I knew I was being punished. Although it implied that a little (very little) alcohol would not be harmful, it was just ambiguous enough for me to make the decision: booze was out. For the duration of my pregnancy anyway. You see, I felt guilty because I had been drinking during the first three months, and if I’d known I was pregnant then I wouldn’t have done, so if anything is wrong with my baby I will be to blame totally. It struck me then how hard it was; forget George, forget Joe, this pregnancy was hard enough.
There was so much to know; when I had gone to my doctor I had been in shock. When I saw the gynaecologist I was definitely in shock. Then I had to tell people, so that occupied my thoughts, but now it hit me: pregnancy is terrifying. How do you protect the baby when it’s inside? How do I know that I am doing the best for it? I picked up the book and started to read.
I was learning about anxiety and trying to ignore the section on the father’s role. Yeah the father’s role. A quick roll and then off he goes. Bastard. Whoever it was. I was bloody angry. Not sure why, but I was. It was better than crying I guess, although then I considered
that anger might be bad for the baby. I tried to find ‘anger’ in the index but it wasn’t there so I contented myself with reading about ankle exercises. Then the buzzer went. Relieved I went to answer it. Any longer on my own and I would be certifiable.
Lisa came to greet me with a big kiss. She had no idea about the scene that awaited her. Actually, as soon as she bounded into the sitting room and saw the book she realised.
‘Fuck are you pregnant?’
‘Yes.’
‘That’s the crisis meeting you called with me?’
‘Yes, that and the fact that George has hired a PR and is going to the papers with the story of me refusing to marry him despite the marriage pact.’
‘He’s what?’
‘Oh and I don’t know who the father of my baby is because I omitted to tell you but I shagged George when he came home in early December.’ Lisa looked at me, her mouth opening and closing like a very pretty goldfish. Then she slumped into the sofa.
‘I need a drink.’ I went to pour her a glass of wine. There was plenty left from the bottle I had opened for Joe’s brief visit. When I walked back into the sitting room she was hanging out of the window.
‘What are you doing?’
‘Having a cigarette. I don’t want to pollute the baby.’
‘That’s sweet.’
‘Yeah, but I need to smoke. You can’t give me all that news and not expect me to smoke.’
‘I don’t care if you smoke, you can come in and just pull a chair up to the window if you want. I’ve been round Joe for three months, and you know how much he smokes. Oh shit, I hope him smoking hasn’t harmed the baby. Come to think of it, George and I smoked the night it might have been conceived. You don’t think it’s going to be stunted do you?’
‘Holly you’re pregnant not insane. You’re not insane are you?’
‘I feel it. I found out almost straight after going to court that I was pregnant. Freddie guessed; it hadn’t even entered my mind. Then I had to admit that I’d slept with George. Oh, and before that, Joe asked me to marry him, I didn’t tell you that because we were going to see my parents this weekend to tell them first. Then I went for a scan, organised quickly because the doctor thought I might be quite pregnant and I couldn’t remember my last period. Then my worst fears were confirmed: over three months pregnant. Either Joe or George could be the father.’ I paused and took a deep breath. ‘Then before I could do anything, I got a letter from George saying he’s hired Cordelia Dickens to be his PR and they’re going to the papers to make me see sense. So today Francesca and Freddie spent the morning trying to decide what to do. Then I told Joe about the baby and he left abruptly without talking about whether he wanted a spring or summer wedding and now you’re here.’
‘It’s been a shit few days then.’ I couldn’t help laughing at her evaluation.
‘You could say that.’
I made myself a cup of tea while Lisa drank, smoked and tried to digest my news. When I took my tea in, she was the picture of serenity again.
‘Here’s how I see it. Francesca will look after the press. Well her and Freddie will. If you get some publicity then don’t worry. It’ll all blow over. People have far worse stories coming out than the fact you won’t marry him. Then this is how I would deal with the baby. Maintain to George that it’s Joe’s. If he doesn’t believe you then refuse a test. As long as you refuse a test then he can’t prove he’s the father. He might take you to court again to get a test but my guess is he won’t, because there will be a little doubt in his mind if he is the father, and if he has the test and it is Joe’s then his story has lost its oomph. Following me?’
I nodded, amazed. Lisa was not only addressing my problem rather than changing the subject, but she was addressing it well.
‘Now your parents will support you as will I. Joe will come round, leave him alone to get over the initial shock, but I would write him a letter, telling him you love him. In the meantime I will be your birthing partner or whatever they call it and we’ll go to antenatal or whatever they call it.’
‘Wow Lis, what’s come over you?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘You’re being so practical.’
‘I am, oh fantastic. I’ve been trying.’
Relieved of a conversation that didn’t involve me I decided to pursue this. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Well I thought that it was time I did something.’
‘Why?’
‘Well you know, my career is all but over. I get some work but the other day I was offered an assignment to pose as a married woman who needed to borrow money so her and her husband could extend the house because they have too many kids. I’m thirty-five, I don’t feel like a harassed mother of three. Anyway I turned it down and decided that if I’m over the hill in the modelling world I ought to do something else. You see, Max’s career is on the up and up, whereas in the early days it was the other way round, so it feels a bit weird. I guess I was feeling a bit put out by the fact that I’m not in demand and he is, but I love him to bits so I wasn’t going to let it spoil things. Or not since I’ve thought about it anyway.’
‘When did you get so sensible?’ I was a little worried that Lisa had turned into someone like me.
‘Oh, not really sensible. Anyway I decided that I was going to give up flogging my dead career and help Max with his. And he is really pleased, you know men like to have the little woman flocking round them. And then I thought we might have a baby, but now I don’t have to worry about what it’ll be like to be fat, I can see how you get on before I decide.’ I was relieved to see she hadn’t changed that much.
‘OK, Lisa, and if I can do fat successfully, then you can try it.’
‘Exactly.’
‘My main problem now is how to get Joe to forgive me and how to get George out of my life while ensuring that my baby is all right.’
‘You need a fucking miracle.’
‘Thanks Lis, have another drink.’ Although it had been one of the longest and most traumatic days of my life, I went to bed with a hint of a smile on my lips.
Chapter Twenty-one
I borrowed Lisa’s BMW for the trip to my parents’ house, because Joe was supposed to be driving us and I didn’t want to sit on a train. I hadn’t yet told my parents that Joe wasn’t coming, so I thought that if I turned up needing a lift from the train station I’d have to answer questions before I was ready. I listened to Classic FM on the journey, deciding that it would be a comfort to me and the baby. I also thought that if babies were aware of their surroundings whilst in the womb then my baby would come out cultured.
I had slept soundly the night before, but that wasn’t surprising because I was exhausted. I was afraid that my broken heart might keep me awake but it didn’t. I was also afraid of bad dreams about what lay ahead, but if I did dream I didn’t remember. I awoke, showered and dressed and then packed a small weekend bag for my trip. I then went to a local card shop where I chose a blank card, with a picture of a boat on it, to send to Joe. I have no idea why I chose that card but I knew how the little boat, all alone on the sea, felt. I went home and wrote to him from the heart. A short, but simple note telling him I was sorry, and saying I loved him. It didn’t seem enough, but then I knew that it would never seem enough. My thoughts flicked to George. I wondered if he knew the damage he’d already caused. Would he put a stop to it? I guessed the answer was no. George had become a man on a mission, and there was no way he could be stopped. Unless I hired a hitman. But then I didn’t want my baby to be born in prison and knowing my luck, I would be caught. And I didn’t know any hitmen anyway so it was a bit of an unrealistic idea.
As I drove, I tried to enjoy the scenery. The A303 which went past Stonehenge offered some lovely views, but all I could think was that I was going to disappoint my family at the end of that journey and there is nothing lovely about that. I just concentrated on the road, and on not driving too fast or putting myself and the baby at risk. As I don’t drive
very often I thought that maybe I would have been more sensible to take the train, but then I wouldn’t have had the time alone to gain my composure. I really needed that.
As soon as I parked my car outside our house, just on the outskirts of Barnstaple, my mum came out to greet me. She looked so excited, but then her face fell.
‘You’re on your own?’ My mother had never been the type of mother to hassle me about relationships but I knew she was looking forward to meeting Joe. I had raved about him so much.
‘Yes. I need to talk to you and Dad, and Imogen, is she around?’
‘Imogen’s here. We all are. We were all waiting to meet Joe.’ She sounded upset and my heart went out to her. This was only the beginning.
‘Shall we go in? I’ve got something to tell you.’ Not surprisingly my mother looked puzzled as we walked in, and knowing how she worried I decided to tell them everything straight out. I relayed the now familiar story, from George’s first appearance back in my life until today. My father looked at his shoes, my sister looked at my mother, my mother looked at me. I looked at my stomach (it was a sympathy tactic. Don’t-shout-here’s-your-grandchild, sort of thing). Imogen was the first to regain composure.
‘You don’t know who the father is and it’s about to be splashed over the press. Oh God, what’s Jack going to say? He’s famous, he has a reputation to maintain, as soon as they discover you’re his sister-in-law he’ll be tarnished.’ Imogen was more hysterical than I had been when I found out.
‘Immi, they don’t know about the baby yet. Hopefully the media coverage will die down before anyone finds out. And if it doesn’t then I am quite happy for you and Jack to issue a press release condemning my actions if it’ll help save his career.’
‘This isn’t about Jack, or Immi, or us. It’s about you, Holly.’ My father spoke.
‘But it affects us all,’ Imogen repeated. My sister had been known to throw the odd tantrum, so I wasn’t too surprised by her outburst.
‘Are you all right Holly?’ My dad asked and on cue I burst into tears.
Deranged Marriage Page 17