heard about Lucie. If her eyes are fresh it’s only because she’s had them injected with dolphin endorphins at some million-dollar spa.
Carol: We’re all thinking it, Alice, but I’m afraid you must learn to love this book. Tony’s spent enough on it that we must make use of the month we’ll have her for.
Me: But how can she have finished it if she hasn’t even had the baby yet?
Carol: Because when you have that much money, you can guarantee that life will turn out how you planned. I’ll send you the latest version; she’s over next month for a meeting with us. Did Tony really not tell you any of this?
All I could think was: Christ, I really hope Tony doesn’t buy a How to Cope with Everyone You Know Dying book, or I’m going to have to keep a closer watch on my loved ones. Why does he keep predicting my life? What the hell is going on? And why the living hell would he not tell us he’d bought it?
But it felt like the right time to tell Carol about this baby, after the meeting. She took it so well, giving me a hug and asking me for all the details. She said she’d email Tony – not that he responded with any real frequency – and get all the information to me about my leave and maternity pay. Her enthusiasm was quite infectious, in fact, and for once I didn’t mind telling people. Alice pulled out one of the bottles of prosecco that always seem to dog this place, and we had a tiny toast. I even saw Norman raise his glass to Carol before he drank, that old romantic. It wasn’t so bad, after all.
A Womb of One’s Own’s publication date is in March, four months away, a month after Lucie’s baby is born. As long as there are no complications, I’ll be happy to assist Alice with Lucie’s publicity; at seven months pregnant, I’ll be delighted to be on the phone for them while I sit in comfort in the office. Who knows, maybe she can actually give me some tips. And I can practise holding another baby, too, one that, unlike Susie’s kids, it does matter if I drop. Maybe I’ll start feeling maternal.
Although that seems unlikely.
November 29th
This morning, I remembered the times we’d visited Heidi and Rich, Thom’s best man, and their new baby Megan since our wedding. I liked them both very much, and found Megan wonderful to hold, like a kitten. But I’d always been quickly bored of that little animal warmth, and was happy to pass it back to Heidi so she could uncover an udder and feed the squirming creature. I never felt broody when we saw them – ha! In fact, last time we went, we even talked on the way home about how we hoped our feelings about babies would change before we had them ourselves – and never looked forward to seeing the baby, rather than Rich and Heidi. Yet there we were tonight. Pregnant, and on their doorstep again for another visit. We had a nice enough time, but I couldn’t wait until we were driving home again.
Me: Did you see the face they made at one another?
Thom: What face?
Me: The ‘Didn’t we say’ face.
Thom: Didn’t they say what?
Me: Have you really not noticed that when we’ve told people? The second you’re married, everyone starts waiting for the womb on legs in the relationship to get knocked up.
Thom: [laughing] I can’t say I have noticed that, I’m afraid.
Me: No! I know you haven’t! And do you know why? Because –
Thom: I’m a man. I know. And I can’t tell you how sorry I am about that fact right at this moment.
Me: [laughing] Thom, I’m not blaming you. I’m just saying it’s another one of the countless things which exposes the idea of pregnancy being some kind of partnership as completely and utterly false. We are not pregnant. I am pregnant. I am the one everyone is watching. If something happens to this baby, whose fault do you think people will think that is?
Thom: [stopping the car] Kiki. If anything – heaven forbid, times a million – if anything happens to this baby, I couldn’t give the slightest shit what anyone else says. My only concern is loving it, and loving you, and making sure that even if it’s a tiny contribution, I do whatever I can to make your lives better.
Me: [crying] I’m just so hormonal. You don’t know what it’s like.
Thom: [pulling me into a hug] I know, Keeks. I know.
TO DO:
Investigate how long these crazy hormones are supposed to last
On second thoughts, maybe don’t
Do something nice for Thom
November 30th
Pamela came in for one of her infrequent visits to the office today, so I thought it was a good idea to tell her about the pregnancy: I owe my promotion purely to her and won’t ever give her an excuse to be disappointed in me. But she was as nice as Carol, checking I felt well and wasn’t exhausting myself, asking how the check-ups had been and whether my parents were excited. ‘I hear grandchildren are one of the greatest gifts one can receive,’ she explained, ‘but I’ve long since abandoned any hope of Tony giving me such a blessing.’ She shook my hand and congratulated me again, and I reassured her that she wouldn’t be able to keep me out of this office for long.
Drinks with Jacki tonight. I was so excited, since I missed our last drinks in October and I haven’t told her about this pregnancy yet. I have so much to thank her for – my promotion (it was the success of her book that sealed it), my wedding (she offered to bankroll it), and the fact I had a husband at all (she reminded me what really mattered when her marriage to a gold-digger broke her heart) – but even if I didn’t, seeing her always makes my day. We met at one of our favourite snug bars in Soho, underneath an erotic bookshop, and clacked downstairs to a booth. We were talking over one another before we’d even ordered our drinks.
Me: Jacki! I can’t believe I haven’t seen you for so long. It’s been the craziest few months.
Jacki: I know, me too, darling. I’ve been filming two videos back-to-back for singles from the bloody Love Songs album, and I don’t think I’ve slept for a month.
Me: Well, you look well, Jacks.
Jacki: Do I? I’ll give you some advice that you won’t ever need: Don’t get divorced. [seeing my face] Sorry, love, I don’t mean you. Don’t let anyone you know get divorced either. It’s not the money – I always knew I’d be worse off after marrying Leon one way or another – it’s everything else …
Me: Jacks, I’m so sorry. Come and sit next to me. [putting my arm around her]
Jacki: I’m sorry, I’m not a complainer, you know that. But this is … knackering me. It really is. Leon, his girlfriends, the rumours, the public judging us both, and waking up on my own every day … Ugh. [shaking herself] Tell me about your life, Kiki. [swallowing hard] Is married life good for you? You look amazing on it, anyway. Glowing!
And with that, I lost my nerve. I told her all about my new role, about how her book was still selling, about Thom’s new job and Mum’s increasing anxiety over Dad, and Susie’s battles with the icing bag for yet another school event. As ever, Jacki listened so attentively, asking all the right questions and remembering everything I’d ever told her about these people. She asked about guests from our wedding too, Eve and Mike, and lovely Jim and Poppy.
Jacki: And wasn’t your best man’s girlfriend due any day? What did she have?
Me: They had a little girl, Megan. She’s … wow, almost three months now.
Jacki: And are they happy?
Me: I think so. Heidi doesn’t get much sleep, though.
Jacki: And Ped told me all about Zoe, too.
Me: [not looking at her] Yeah! It’s amazing, isn’t it? I hear he’s treating her really well.