“You can give it to Jess—” Luke stops himself. “Sometime. Whenever you see her next.”
Hang on a minute. The overcasual way he said that…
“Luke, you know, don’t you?” I exclaim.
“Know what?” His mouth twitches suspiciously as he picks up his briefcase.
“You
know
! About the…you know!”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Luke looks as though he wants to laugh. “By the way, Becky, on a completely unrelated matter…could you possibly be in at around eleven this morning? We’re expecting the gas man.”
“No, we’re not!” I point at him, half-accusing, half-giggling. “You’re setting me up!”
“Have a wonderful time.” Luke kisses me, and then he’s out the door and I’m left alone.
I linger in the hall for a bit, just looking at the door. I almost wish I’d gone in with Luke today, to show moral support. He looks so stressed. And now he’s got to face all his staff. And his finance people.
Hemorrhaging money
. My stomach gives a nasty flip. No. Stop it. Don’t think about it.
There’s still two hours to go before eleven, so I put on a Harry Potter DVD to distract myself, and open a box of chocolate snowmen, just because it’s the festive season. It’s got to the bit where Harry sees his dead parents in the mirror, and I’m reaching for a tissue, when I happen to glance out the window—and see Suze. She’s standing in front of our building, in the little car park next to the landscaped garden, and she’s looking straight up at the window.
Immediately I duck down out of view. I hope she didn’t spot me.
After a few moments I cautiously raise my head again and she’s still standing there. Only she’s been joined by Jess! In slight excitement I glance at my watch. Ten forty. Not long now!
The only thing is, they both seem quite perturbed. Suze is gesturing with a frown, and Jess is nodding. They must have a problem. I wonder what it is. And I can’t even help.
As I’m watching, Suze gets out her phone. She dials, and as the phone in the flat rings, I jump guiltily and move away from the window.
OK. Act casual. I take a deep breath, then lift the receiver.
“Oh, hi, Suze!” I say, in my most natural manner. “How are you doing? You’re probably in Hampshire on your horse or somewhere.”
“How did you know it was me?” says Suze suspiciously.
Shit.
“We’ve got…Caller ID,” I fib. “So, how are you?”
“I’m great!” says Suze, sounding totally stilted. “Actually, Bex, I was just reading this article about pregnant women, and it said you should go for a twenty-minute walk every day for health. So I was thinking maybe you should go on one. Like…now. Just round the block.”
She wants to get me out of the way! Right. What I’ll do is play along but not make it look too obvious.
“A twenty-minute walk,” I say in thoughtful tones. “That sounds like a good idea. Maybe I will.”
“Not any
more
than twenty minutes,” Suze adds hurriedly. “Just twenty minutes exactly.”
“OK!” I say. “I’ll go right now.”
“Cool!” Suze sounds relieved. “Er…see you…sometime!”
“See you!”
I hurry to the hall, put on my coat, and head downstairs in the lift. When I step outside, Suze and Jess have disappeared. They must be hiding!
Trying to look just like any normal pregnant woman having a twenty-minute walk, I head toward the gates, my eyes swiveling from left to right.
Oh my God, I just saw Suze behind that car! And there’s Jess crouching behind the low wall!
I can’t let them know I can see them. I can’t giggle. Keeping my composure, I reach the gates—and spot a familiar spring of curly brown hair behind a rhododendron bush.
No. I don’t believe it. Is that
Mum
?
I get past the gates and burst into laughter, muffling the sound with my hands. I hurry along the pavement, find a bench in the next street, and flick through
Heat
magazine, which I hid inside my coat so Suze wouldn’t see. Then, on the dot of twenty minutes, I get up and turn my steps back toward home.
As I walk through the gates again there’s no sign of anyone. I let myself in and take the lift to the top floor, feeling bubbles of anticipation. I head to our apartment, put my key in the lock, and turn.
“Surprise!” A chorus of voices greets me as I swing the door back wide. And the weird thing is, even though I was expecting it, I feel a genuine shock to see so many friendly faces clustered together. Suze, Jess, Mum, Janice, Danny…and is that
Kelly
?
“Wow!” I drop
Heat
without even meaning to. “What on earth—”
“It’s your shower!” Suze is glowing pink with pleasure. “Surprise! We fooled you! Come in, have a glass of Buck’s Fizz….”
She ushers me into the sitting room, and I can’t believe the transformation. There are pink and blue helium balloons everywhere, and a huge cake sitting on a silver stand, and a pile of presents, and bottles of champagne on ice….
“This is just…” My voice suddenly wobbles. “It’s just…”
“Don’t cry, Bex!” says Suze.
“Have a drink, love!” Mum thrusts a glass into my hand.
“I knew we shouldn’t surprise her!” Janice looks alarmed. “I said it would be too much of a shock for her system!”
“Surprised to see me?” Kelly has bounded up to me, her face shining with excitement and Stila shimmer makeup.
“Kelly!” I fling my drink-free arm around her. I met Kelly in Cumbria, when I was looking for Jess. I was only just pregnant then, and didn’t even know it yet. It seems
years
ago now.
“Were you really surprised, Bex?” Suze looks at me, her face full of suppressed glee.
“Totally!”
And it’s true. OK, I knew it was happening. But I had no idea anyone would make so much effort! Every time I look around, I notice something else, like the silver “baby” confetti sprinkled over the table, or the little booties hanging from all the pictures….
“You ain’t seen nothing yet,” says Danny, taking a swig of champagne. “OK, everyone, line up, unbutton your jackets, on the count of three…”
I watch, bemused, as they scramble into place, like some kind of motley chorus line.
“One…two…three!”
Everyone, from Mum to Jess to Kelly, flings open their jackets. And underneath they’re all wearing matching Danny Kovitz T-shirts, just like the one he designed for The Look. Except the picture is of a little doll-like pregnant girl. And underneath is the slogan:
I can’t speak.
“She’s overwhelmed!” Mum comes bustling up. “Take a seat, love. Have a snack.” She thrusts a platter of tiny Chinese duck pancakes at me. “Waitrose’s own brand. They’re very good!”
“Open your presents,” instructs Suze, clapping her hands. “Then we’ve got party games. Hey, everyone sit down, Bex is going to open her presents….” She heaves all the gift-wrapped parcels into a pile in front of me, then tinkles a fork in her glass. “Now, I have a little speech to make about the presents. Attention!”
Everyone turns expectantly toward Suze and she makes a little bow.
“Thank you! Now, when I was planning this baby shower, I asked Jess what she thought we should buy Becky. And Jess said, ‘There’s nothing left, she’s bought all of London already.’”
There’s the hugest roar of laughter around the room, and I feel my cheeks turn beet-red. OK, maybe I did go a tad overboard. But the point is I had to. I mean, I’ll be far too busy to go shopping after the baby’s born. I probably won’t go near a shop for a
year
.
“So!” resumes Suze, her eyes sparkling. “Jess suggested we should
make
things. And that’s what we’ve done.”
They’ve
made
things?
Oh God, they haven’t all made baby wipes, have they?
“We’ll start with mine.” Suze hands me a rectangular package and I start ripping off the silver paper in slight apprehension.
“Oh, wow,” I breathe as I see what it is. “
Wow
.”
It’s not baby wipes. It’s an exquisite photo frame, made out of creamy painted wood, with tiny little mirrors and mother-of-pearl set into it. Inside, instead of a photograph, is a cartoon of a stick girl holding a baby in front of a house.
“You can put a picture of the baby in it,” Suze is explaining. “But for now, I’ve drawn a picture of you in front of your new house.”
I look at the picture more closely and can’t help bursting into laughter. The cartoon house has been divided up into rooms and each one given a label. “Pram Room.” “Nappy Room.” “Lipstick Room.” “Visa Bill Room” (in the cellar). “Antiques of the Future Room.”
An Antiques of the Future Room! That’s actually a
brilliant
idea.
As I open my other presents I’m totally overwhelmed. Kelly’s is a tiny patchwork quilt, with patches contributed by all the lovely friends I made in Scully. Janice’s is a tiny red hand-knitted jumper with
Baby’s First Christmas
embroidered on the front. Mum’s is the matching Father Christmas hat and booties. Danny’s is the
coolest
designer distressed romper suit ever.
“Now mine,” says Jess, placing the largest present of the lot in front of me. It’s wrapped in a patchwork of old, crumpled wrapping papers, one of which is printed with the words
Happy 2000
!
“Be careful taking the paper off!” says Jess as I start to unwrap it. “I can use it again.”
“Er…OK!” Gently I peel the paper away and fold it up. There’s a layer of tissue paper underneath, and I pull it away to see a box about two feet high, made of pale, polished wood. Puzzled, I turn it around to face me—and it’s not a box after all. It’s a little cupboard with double doors and tiny porcelain handles. And
Baby’s Shoes
carved into the front.
“What—” I look up.
“Open it up.” Jess’s face is shining. “Go on!”
I tug it open, and there are little shelves, sloped and lined with white suede. On one of them is resting the smallest pair of red baseball boots I’ve ever seen.
It’s a little tiny Shoe Room.
“Jess…” I can feel tears welling up. “You
made
this?”
“Tom helped.” She gives a self-deprecating shrug. “We did it together.”
“But it was Jess’s idea,” chips in Suze. “Isn’t it brilliant? I
wish
I’d thought of it….”
“It’s perfect.” I’m totally bowled over. “Look at the way the doors fit…and the way the shelves are carved….”
“Tom always was good with his hands.” Janice clamps a hanky to her eyes. “This can be his memorial. We’ll probably never have a tombstone.”
I exchange looks with Mum, who pulls a familiar Janice-has-lost-it expression.
“Janice, I’m
sure
he’s not dead—” Jess begins.
“We can engrave his dates on the back,” Janice continues. “If you don’t mind, Becky, love.”
“Er…well no,” I say uncertainly. “Of course not.”
“He’s not dead, Janice!” Jess almost yells. “I know he’s not!”
“Well, where is he?” Janice pulls her hanky from her eyes, which are smudgy with mauve eye shadow. “You broke that boy’s heart!”
“Wait!” I suddenly remember. “Jess, I got a package for you this morning. Maybe it’s from him.”
I hurry to the hall and bring back the parcel. Jess rips it open and a CD falls out. On it is written simply “From Tom.”
We all stare at it for a moment.
“It’s a DVD,” says Danny, picking it up. “Put it on.”
“It’s his last will and testament!” cries Janice hysterically. “It’s a message from beyond the grave!”
“It’s not from beyond the grave,” Jess snaps, but as she heads to the DVD player I can see that she’s gone pale.
She presses Play and crouches down on the floor. We all wait in silence as the screen flickers. Then suddenly there’s Tom, facing the camera, against a blue sky. He’s wearing an old green polo shirt and looks pretty disheveled.
“Hi, Jess,” he says momentously. “By the time you see this, I’ll be in Chile. Because…that’s where I am now.”
Jess stiffens. “
Chile
?”
“Chile?” Janice shrieks. “What’s he doing in Chile?”
“I love you,” Tom’s saying. “And I’ll move to the other side of the world if that’s what it takes. Or farther.”
“Oh, that’s so romantic,” sighs Kelly.
“He’s such a stupid
prat
,” Jess says, knocking a fist against her forehead. “I’m not going out there for three months!”
But her eyes are glistening, I notice.
“Look what I’ve found you.” Tom is holding a chunk of some black shiny rock up to the camera. “You’ll love this country, Jess.”
“He’ll get cholera!” Janice is saying in agitation. “Or malaria! Tom’s always had a weak system—”
“I can get work as a carpenter,” Tom is saying. “I can write my book. We’ll be happy here. And if Mum gives you any grief, just remember what I told you about her.”
“Told you?” Janice looks up sharply. “What did he tell you?”
“Er…nothing.” Jess hastily presses Stop and whips the DVD out of the machine. “I’ll watch the rest later.”
“So!” says Mum cheerily. “He’s alive, Janice love. That’s good news!”
“Alive?” Janice is still in a state of hysteria. “What’s the use of being alive in Chile?”
“At least he’s out in the world!” says Jess with sudden passion. “At least he’s doing something with his life! You know, he’s been really depressed, Janice. This is just what he needs.”
“I know what my son needs!” Janice retorts indignantly as the doorbell rings. I heave myself to my feet, glad of an excuse to get out of the line of fire.
“I’ll just get this….” I head into the hall and pick up the entry phone. “Hello?”
“I have a delivery for you,” comes a crackly voice.
My heart skips a beat. A delivery. This has to be it. It
has
to be. As I press the buzzer I can hardly breathe. I’m telling myself firmly not to hope, it’ll be another package for Jess, or a catalog, or a computer part for Luke….
But when I open the door, there’s a motorbike courier standing in his leathers, holding a big padded envelope, and I already recognize Dave Sharpness’s writing in bold black marker pen.
I lock myself in the cloakroom and feverishly rip the envelope open. There’s a manila folder inside, marked “Brandon.” On the front is stuck a Post-it note, with a scribbled message:
Hope this helps. Any further assistance required, do not hesitate. Yours, Dave S
.