by Lulu Taylor
Imogen frowned. That’s odd. I don’t think she’s come back.
Well, Allegra was a big girl and could no doubt look after herself. And she deserved to let her hair down after the stress of the launch night. Perhaps she was still out, partying somewhere.
Just then, Imogen felt a little shimmer in her belly and put her hand on it. It was hugely distended and very firm to the touch, a smooth tight drum of a stomach. Until recently, she’d felt lots of kicking but lately it had calmed down. ‘The baby’s engaged,’ the midwife had told her, ‘and it’s a tight fit in there now. Not much room for kicking any more.’
But her due date had come and gone and no sign of an arrival yet. She was getting tired of the discomfort and eager to meet her baby, but wanting didn’t seem to have any effect. I think I’m always going to be pregnant, she thought, I’ll be a freak of nature who just goes on getting bigger and bigger …
As she climbed back into bed, she felt another movement in her stomach, but this was a little different. It was a short, sharp clench, not painful but definitely not something she could recognise. She waited for a while but there was nothing else so she took up her book and sipped at her tea. Then the pain came again. She looked at the clock. Ten minutes since the first one. It might be a false labour. Some practice contractions, perhaps. But ten minutes later, another one came, and then another, a little firmer and stronger.
She sat there, smiling, clutching her huge stomach. ‘You’re coming at last, baby,’ she said to it. ‘At last.’
Allegra arrived at lunchtime, still in her beautiful Preen cocktail dress, but barefoot, her mesh sandals over one hand. She came into the kitchen, eyes sparkling, hair ruffled and messy, looking joyful.
‘How did it go?’ Imogen was sitting at the kitchen table, eating soup. A big piece of fruit cake sat on a plate next to her. ‘You look very happy.’
‘I am, I am.’ Allegra slid into the seat next to her. ‘It went wonderfully. I’m going in tonight to make sure that everything is ready for the official opening tomorrow. We left quite a mess behind but I’m sure Nasser can deal with everything. He’s great.’
‘So tell me all about it!’ urged Imogen eagerly, sipping her soup.
Allegra had begun to recount the events of the party when Imogen suddenly clutched her stomach and groaned, her face scrunching up. A few seconds later, completely recovered, she picked up a pen, looked at a piece of paper next to her and said, ‘Five minutes since the last one.’ She noted down the time and wrote 5 mins next to it.
Allegra gaped at her. ‘Are you in labour?’ she demanded.
Imogen smiled, her eyes bright. ‘I think so. I think this is it.’
‘Oh, Midge!’ Allegra stared at her with a mixture of fear and happiness. ‘How is it? What’s happening?’
‘I’m sure there’re hours to go. It’s been three or four already and I’m only at five minutes apart. The pain isn’t too bad. It started off just like little period pains but now it’s growing and getting stronger … much more like I’m wearing a corset and someone is pulling it really, really tight and then letting it go.’
‘Should we go to the hospital?’ demanded Allegra, getting up. ‘I’ll get changed. Is your bag all ready? We’d better leave at once.’ She had booked Imogen into the exclusive and expensive private Portland Hospital months ago.
‘No, no,’ Imogen said calmly. ‘We don’t have to think about leaving until the contractions are about three minutes apart. And I haven’t had any show of blood or fluid. It’s a first labour. I’ll probably be like this for days. That’s why I’m eating this lentil soup and fruit cake – lots of slow-release energy.’
‘So there’s time for me to have a shower?’
‘Oh, yes, loads of time.’
Allegra smiled at her, her eyes gentle. ‘I can’t believe it’s really happening. You’re going to give birth. You’re so brave.’ She hugged her friend.
‘I don’t know if I’m brave,’ Imogen replied, laughing. ‘There’s not a lot I can do about it now!’ Then she stiffened, held her breath and her face contorted with pain. When it disappeared, she said breathlessly, ‘That was definitely stronger than the last one. And four and half minutes since the last one. Perhaps you’d better hurry up with that shower after all.’
When Allegra emerged, washed and dressed in jeans and a Marc Jacobs floaty black top, Imogen was still in the kitchen. Her soup and fruitcake had been abandoned and her notepaper and pen discarded. She was white-faced and panting, kneeling against one of the kitchen chairs, clutching its seat.
‘Are you OK?’ Allegra rushed to her side, her eyes anxious.
Imogen groaned as another spasm gripped her, her whole body shaking with the force of the contraction. It seemed to go on for long minutes. When it had passed, she looked drained and scared. ‘It’s happened so suddenly,’ she panted to Allegra. ‘One moment it was all lovely and calm, and the next … They’re coming so fast, only a minute or two apart! And it’s so painful, I think I’m going to be sick. Can this be right? It’s awful! How am I going to stand it?’
‘I’ll ring the hospital,’ Allegra said, panicking and looking for the phone. ‘Then I’ll call an ambulance.’
‘No, no, that will take too long. It will be quicker if you drive me.’ Imogen looked up with terrified eyes. ‘Can you do that?’
‘Of course I can. I’ll get your bag.’
‘Oh, God, it’s coming again … Oh no, no, I don’t like it …’ Imogen let out a huge moan of pain as she was gripped again by a fierce contraction.
Allegra ran upstairs, fighting to keep calm and rebuking herself for not insisting they should go to the hospital as soon as she returned. What if Imogen had her baby in the car? What if she, Allegra, had to deliver it? She’d gone to some of Imogen’s ante-natal classes but she was definitely not prepared to be a midwife. She rushed to her friend’s room and picked up the bag that was waiting by the window.
Downstairs, Imogen was doubled up over the chair again, groaning with agony.
‘Can you make it to the car?’ Allegra asked urgently, trying to hide her anxiety.
‘When this one’s gone,’ panted Imogen. A moment later her face cleared and she said, ‘OK, it’s gone.’
Allegra helped her up and they went as fast as they could to the front door, down the front steps to her car.
‘Shit!’ Allegra said crossly. ‘It’s just not designed for a pregnant person.’ There was no way Imogen was going to squeeze into the front seat of the sleek but small Jaguar convertible. ‘You’ll have to lie on the back seat.’
Imogen clambered in just in time for the next contraction. Her face contorted and she moaned loudly.
‘Are you sure we shouldn’t call an ambulance?’ cried Allegra, panicking again.
‘Just get me to the hospital!’ Imogen groaned. ‘Please, Allegra, I’ve got to get there … right now!’
The journey to the Portland was mercifully quick. The hospital was only on the other side of Regent’s Park and they pulled up in less than ten minutes. To Allegra’s huge relief, Imogen was soon in the care of nurses and on her way to one of the delivery suites where a midwife was waiting.
‘Are you going in? Are you her birth partner?’ the receptionist asked, after Allegra had given all the necessary details.
She nodded. ‘Yes, I’ll go in. She needs me. There isn’t anyone else.’
The midwife told Allegra afterwards that Imogen’s delivery had been very trouble-free and extremely fast. Allegra thought that a quick and easy delivery seemed bad enough: for three hours Imogen was shaken by contractions every minute. She sucked at the gas-and-air the midwife offered, but it didn’t seem to make any difference to the pain that gripped her. Allegra tried to help as best she could but, beyond offering Imogen cups of sweet cordial to drink, there was nothing she could do. Her friend seemed to have retreated to another place, and she didn’t want to be spoken to or touched.
The midwife was calm and cheerful, encouraging her a
nd checking the baby’s heartbeat every few minutes. Then Imogen entered a quiet period when labour seemed to ease off and she appeared to be asleep.
Then it started again, now with an elemental, animal quality as her belly seemed to take control and move visibly, pressing down with each great contraction.
‘I have to push!’ roared Imogen. She was kneeling on the floor in her green hospital gown, where she seemed to be most comfortable, resting her upper body against a chair.
The midwife checked her. ‘Yes, you’re fully dilated. It’s time. Now, with each contraction, you must push down as hard as you can!’
Imogen turned to Allegra. Her face was grey and sweaty, her eyes exhausted. ‘I don’t know if I can do it,’ she whispered.
Allegra knelt beside her. ‘Of course you can! The midwife says this is the last stage. You’re nearly there! You’re going to push out the baby.’
‘The baby?’ Imogen licked her dry lips and her eyes flickered with interest, as though she’d forgotten about the baby altogether in the last few hours. Another contraction gripped her. She put out her hand to Allegra, who took it between both of hers.
‘Push, Imogen!’ shouted the midwife. ‘Use the contraction … push down into it!’
‘You’re doing brilliantly, you’re amazing! You can do it,’ urged Allegra, holding her hand tightly. Imogen squeezed back forcefully, her eyes screwed shut and her teeth gritted as she pushed down hard, growling with the effort.
‘I can see the baby’s head!’ announced the midwife. ‘This little one is going to be born very soon. Just a few more pushes, Imogen.’
This promise seemed to galvanise her and, when the next contraction came, she pushed down with all her might.
‘Nearly there!’ cried the midwife.
‘Well done, Midge, you’re nearly done,’ Allegra whispered, clutching her hand.
With the next push, the midwife cried, ‘The head is out! Keep pushing, Imogen. On the next push, the shoulders will turn and the baby will be free. Come on, you’re almost finished!’
With a great cry, Imogen squeezed Allegra’s hand, gave one final push, and the next moment the midwife was holding a tiny slippery body in her hands, bluish-grey and red, the little face scrunched into an extraordinary frown.
‘You’ve done it!’ cried Allegra, overcome. ‘The baby’s here.’
Imogen turned round and the midwife held the baby close to her. ‘It’s a boy,’ Imogen said in a weak, wondering voice. ‘A little boy. Hello, my darling. Is he all right?’
‘He looks completely fine,’ the midwife replied with a smile.
A few moments later, the midwife had dealt with the cord, got Imogen on to her bed and put the baby on her chest. ‘We’ll check him in a moment and then you can start to feed. And I’m going to give you an injection to release the placenta, if that’s all right with you. Well done, young lady.’
‘You did it,’ Allegra said, awed by what she’d just witnessed. ‘He’s beautiful, Midge! Your son.’
‘Your nephew,’ Imogen said with a smile, and they looked at each other with tears in their eyes.
Chapter 50
‘ADAM?’
‘Hi.’ His voice was low and sweet. ‘I’m so glad you called me. I was just about to ring you.’
‘You’ll never guess what’s happened since I left you.’
‘What?’
‘I’m an aunt! It happened this afternoon.’
‘Oh, God, that’s fantastic! Is everything OK? Is Imogen all right?’
‘She’s fine. She’s coming home tomorrow morning after she’s had a chance to recover but it was all very straightforward. He’s a little boy – Alexander after his father. We’ll call him Alex, I think. There couldn’t be another Xander.’
‘That’s wonderful. I’m so happy for you.’ There was a pause. ‘So – will I see you tonight?’
‘Well, I’m kind of tired. It’s not every day I help out at a birth.’
‘But the house is empty, right? After tomorrow, there’ll be Imogen and the baby there. Let me come and see you. I can’t think about anything else except how desperate I am to touch you again.’
Her stomach filled with delightful butterfly sensations. ‘Me too. OK, come round. Come and see me.’
When Adam arrived an hour later, she’d changed into a Missoni stretch mini-dress in zigzag stripes. Nothing too formal. But I want to look my best … She couldn’t help the delicious sense of excitement that was giving an extra sparkle to her eyes and a flush to her cheeks.
‘You look gorgeous,’ he said appreciatively as he kissed her. Her pulse raced at the sight of him, lean and handsome in his dark suit and open-necked shirt.
‘Thank you. I’ve got us some supper. Are you hungry? Because I’m starving!’
Allegra led the way to the kitchen. She’d had the house redesigned so that she had a large eat-in kitchen in minimalist white, with a long table by the glass extension where a meal had been laid out.
‘You cooked this?’ he said admiringly, looking at the food beautifully arranged on white crockery.
‘Um, no.’ Allegra laughed. ‘Cooking is a skill I have yet to acquire. I had the chef at Colette’s send it round. It seemed like a day to celebrate and be a little indulgent.’
‘And I’ve brought champagne.’ Adam put a bottle of chilled Tattinger on the table. ‘To wet the baby’s head.’
It doesn’t feel as though anything has changed, Allegra thought with relief. She’d worried they would be awkward with each other, unable to face each other as freely as before now that their relationship had moved on to something different, but it didn’t feel like that at all. Adam still seemed to be what he’d been before: her best friend. Any change in that was for the good: a delightful undercurrent of anticipation of what would happen after they’d eaten.
‘So Imogen is going to live here with the baby for the foreseeable future?’ he asked, as they sat down to their food. The chef had sent Allegra’s favourite black cod glazed in honey and ginger with a miso and soy dressing and crushed peas. ‘This is delicious, by the way.’
Allegra nodded. ‘She’s on maternity leave but she didn’t want to go back to Scotland and live with her parents, so I decided that she would move in with me. This house is plenty big enough for both of us and we’ve got a gorgeous little nursery all ready upstairs.’
‘It sounds like a wonderful arrangement.’
‘We’ve always been best friends. Now we’re family as well. Little Alex is my nephew. He’s all we’ve got left of Xander. He’s the most precious thing in the world to both of us.’
After they’d finished their dinner, they went through to the drawing room where a Mozart piano concerto played on the sound system and a fire glowed in the grate of the marble fireplace. Instead of the raging passion of the night before, they moved almost unbearably slowly, kissing for minutes on end before undressing each other. They lay down together in front of the fire. Allegra kissed Adam’s chest, moving down his body until she took his cock in her mouth, licking and sucking it as she caressed his balls, until he could bear it no more. Then she slid upwards and lowered herself back down on the stiff rod of his penis, sighing with pleasure as he pushed inside her. She rode him like that for a long time, sometimes slowing down and nipping his cock with her inner muscles, sometimes sliding right to his tip and then engulfing him again with exquisite patience. Then she let him grasp her hips and thrust hard into her, when he couldn’t restrain himself any longer.
No voice! she thought joyfully. I’m free, for the first time in my life. It’s … it’s just beautiful!
Adam put an arm round her waist, rolled her over and began to push hard inside her. ‘Oh, fuck,’ he gasped, ‘I can’t take this. You’re so beautiful, your pussy is the most incredible thing in the world, I can’t stop myself …’
She surrendered to the pressure of his body on her mound, opening up to him, urging him forward with the movement of her hips. When he gasped and reared back as his orgas
m gripped him, she felt a great surge of excitement and release, as though she’d just been whisked on to an amazing helter-skelter, and, to her astonishment, a fierce climax possessed her: her limbs stiffened and her head thrashed as she cried out, and she and Adam came together in a rush of pleasure.
Afterwards she lay in his arms, kissing his shoulder and chest as he stroked her hair.
‘That’s never happened to me before,’ she said at last, savouring the warmth of their naked bodies pressed together.
‘It’s not exactly an everyday occurrence for me either,’ he said with a laugh, and looked into her eyes. ‘We’ve got something special here, Allegra. You’re the most amazing thing there’s ever been in my life.’
‘I feel it too,’ she said softly, put her cheek against his chest and sighed contentedly.
Imogen came home the next day, still a little fragile and tired but happy. In his new car seat was baby Alex, now pink and sleeping peacefully, wrapped in a baby-blue cashmere blanket that was a present from his aunt Allegra.
They cooed over him together, settling him into his nursery although he’d be sleeping in a Moses basket next to Imogen’s bed for the time being. Bouquets, presents and cards were already arriving, and Imogen’s parents were on their way down to stay for a few days until she had settled, grown used to her baby and learnt to feed him.
‘It’s not as easy as I thought,’ she said, sitting in the large and very comfortable feeding chair, a present from the Earl and Countess of Crachmore. She stroked the baby’s soft downy head; a light blond fuzz covered the tiny skull. ‘But I expect we’ll both get used to it, won’t we, little man?’
‘You’ll make a brilliant mother,’ Allegra said, watching as little Alex’s jaws moved rhythmically with his sucking. ‘You’re a natural.’
She felt a rush of pure joy at the sight. For the first time since Xander’s death, Allegra knew what it was like to feel happy. She loved the baby with a fierceness that was rivalled only by Imogen’s adoration of her son. She was also falling in love with Adam, and her body seemed to glow with the rapture of the sexual pleasure they were sharing. Oscar’s was buzzing with new members and more people were clamouring to join: features on the most glamorous club in London were in every paper and magazine, and Allegra herself had been profiled in Vogue and asked if she would do a Tatler cover. She’d been listed as one of the most influential women in London and there was talk of her being nominated for the Veuve Clicquot Businesswoman of the Year Award. Colette’s was still running as smoothly as ever. It felt as though the dark days were behind them now. At last, she could begin to enjoy some happiness.