so nice to talk to them and so nice to hear how glad the news had made them, but I also felt exhausted by it, and nervous about having to do it all over again with my family actually in front of us, where I’d be unable to draw my finger across my throat as a signal for Thom to draw the conversation to a close when it all got too overwhelming. My hands were shaking so much as we left our house that Thom had to do my coat up for me, saying, ‘It’s all practice for when you can’t do this yourself in a few months,’ to which I sighed, ‘I’m only going to have a bigger stomach, I’m not having my hands cut off.’ Thom tugged an imaginary forelock at me, and we headed over to Susie’s.
When we got there, I’d barely got my shaky finger onto the doorbell when the door opened to reveal Susie, husband Pete and all the kids in the hallway, all wrapped up in coats and scarves. I asked them whether their heating had broken again, but Susie told me that Dad’s birthday lunch was now at Mum and Dad’s house rather than theirs; she didn’t think I’d mind if we moved venues. ‘Come on, Sour Puss. I didn’t have to buy any supplies. Free food!’ ‘Is it, Suse? Is it?’ I said, but we were flurried out with their family. Thom and Pete took the twins Lily and Edward between them, walking in a wide line together, and Susie gave me Frida to carry.
Susie: So what’s new with you?
Me: Nothing! Why do you say that?
Susie: Jesus Christ, you’re pregnant.
Me: [wailing] How does everyone do that?
Susie: OH MY GOD I WAS ONLY JOKING. [doubles over laughing] Oh my GOD. I literally could not be more pleased with myself right now.
Me: Susie, you absolutely cannot tell Mum and Dad.
Susie: [wide-eyed, serious face] Oooh yeah, they’ll totally ground you and you’ll never get to go to the end of term party.
Me: Susie, please.
Susie: Alright. Do you want me to do it?
Me: Tell them you’re pregnant? I don’t know how long that story will hold. In about six months’ time my hospitalisation with Swollen Stomach is going to seem reeeeeally suspicious.
Susie: That wasn’t what I meant, but actually …
Me: We’ll all pretend we’re pregnant! Like Spartacus!
Susie: You’re hormone-addled.
Me: And you have to stop saying that stuff.
Susie: Alright, spoilsport. But I think you should know …
Me: God, what?
Susie: Mum’s actually really good at all this stuff. Looking after us in pregnancy. If she’s anything like how she was with me; she was brilliant. Asking all the right things. Providing great food. I think you’re going to see a new side to our mother.
Me: Hang on – Mum, who can barely remember our names at the best of times? Mum, who never quite manages to listen to what we’re saying when we’re in front of her? Mum, who reacted to news of your pregnancy with ‘Is it definitely yours?’?
Susie: Mum who single-handedly catered and decorated your wedding? Trust me. She’s good at this. She always preferred us when we were in utero, so she gets really excited about pregnancies.
Me: I’ll believe it when I see it.
We settled on Susie and Thom tossing for it. When we got to Mum and Dad’s, we took a coin from the pot in the hallway and all three of us squeezed into the downstairs toilet.
Susie: Call it.
Thom: Heads.
Me: No, tails.
Susie: Which one?
Thom: I don’t care.
Me: Tails! No, heads. HEADS.
Susie: [flips coin] Ha ha! It’s tails. [sing-songing] I get to tell them.
Thom: Oh, thank God.
Me: Just … do it. Don’t gloat, Suse. Get it done with.
So we filed back out, Dad giving us an odd look, and came into the kitchen where Mum was plating up our lunch.
Susie: Mum, Dad, Pete, children. I have an announcement to make.
Pete: [crossing fingers]
Susie: Your daughter’s knocked up – and it’s not me, for once!
Pete: Oh, thank God.
[silence]
Mum: Fucking hell.
Me and Susie: Mum!
I actually love it when Mum swears. It’s like Johnson’s walking dog – we’re not concerned so much how well she’s doing it, but that she’s doing it at all.
Mum: Sorry, darling, I just … well, I was surprised. Sorry. I just thought …
Me: What?
Mum: Well, I’m just surprised you’re having children so soon! I just thought you’d want to wait a little while. You two are both so young, and I thought you’d want to settle into your careers a little bit more …
Me: Susie had had two kids by the time she was TWENTY-FIVE!
Susie: [pulling a Question Time face] I hardly think that’s the point.
Me: [pleading] Mum.
Mum: Oh, darling, of course we’re excited. You do spring this on people, don’t you?
Me: [indignant] Would you prefer a blow-by-blow –
Thom: Don’t.
Me: [understanding] – mm.
Then Dad and Pete and the Twins were excited and gave us both hugs, and Mum came and gave me a lovely hug too. She asked lots of questions (all the right sort, for once), and Susie caught my eye and winked at me. Mum stayed excited for the rest of the afternoon, although she did occasionally repeat herself, which I can forgive in the name of her excitement.
Sometimes, I really love this family. Now it’s just telling everyone else we know. Gulp.
TO DO:
Find out if Susie’s available to tell all our friends
November 28th
Alice hasn’t so much as raised a conspiratorial eyebrow at me since she guessed the news. She’s been as friendly as ever, sweet and funny, but she’s too tactful to make hints or whisper questions to me in the office. She shows her me her neutral face, the face that’s meant she’s managed three Christmases with her handbag Gareth and her family, and never even looked at me when Carol reported that Tony had bought a baby book. In our weekly meeting, Carol asked if we had any thoughts yet on Lucie Martel’s A Womb of One’s Own.
Me: Her what?
Alice: A what of her what?
Carol: Tony bought this just before he left. It says here Kiki’s handling it in his absence. Didn’t he tell you?
Me and Alice: [blank faces]
Carol: Bloody hell. Right, it’s an American import, obviously, but we’ll publish in March, the same time as them. Lucie’s an incredibly wealthy New York journalist, mainly working in the US but with a few things published over here. Her piece on arranging a prostitute for her super-rich-CEO husband went down a storm last year in the Mail.
All: Oh, her!
Carol: Quite. She’s written the book already, but we won’t bring it out until the baby is actually born.
Me: But what is it?
Carol: Looking again at the submission notes, it’s ‘a