I rolled off the sofa, wandered into the kitchen, took Kay’s calendar off its hook and counted down the weeks. Twenty-one weeks or thereabouts. Five months. Did you show at five months? Jess was nearly that with the twins at her wedding and barely showed, but I had no idea if that was typical.
Logging onto my laptop, I asked Google. After checking out several sites, it seemed that, for a first baby, I probably wouldn’t show too much although, of course, every pregnancy was different. Then I remembered a colleague looking heavily pregnant at that stage. Hmm. My baby would weigh about three quarters of a pound, be about twenty-six centimetres long and be properly kicking. I lifted my PJs top and stroked my stomach. Wow! That was hard to imagine. I wondered what baby was doing now. Clicking on another link, I discovered that, at about eight weeks pregnant, baby would be the size of a kidney bean.
‘It’s just you and me, baby bean,’ I whispered. ‘I promise I’ll be a good mummy. I’ll be completely different to my mother. I’ll be such a good mummy that you won’t miss having a daddy because I doubt very much that Daniel’s going to want anything to do with you. In fact, I bet he’ll want me to get rid of you like poor Amber’s baby and there’s no way I’m doing that. It’s not your fault. I don’t think we’ll tell him for a long time yet. I don’t think we’ll tell anyone. We’ll keep it as our little secret.’
A knock on the door startled me. I was in my PJs! I closed my laptop and grabbed a long grey cardigan Kay had left draped over the armchair. I pulled it tightly round me as I answered the door. ‘Stevie? Hi.’
‘Hi. Sorry for dropping by unannounced, but I was in the area.’ He shook his head. ‘That’s a lie. I came especially to see you and to give you these.’ He handed me a stunning bouquet of orange, yellow, and cream flowers.
‘Thank you.’ My heart thumped as I took them. ‘They’re beautiful. But what are they for?’
‘Lots of reasons. Because you’ve been poorly, because you’ve had such a tough time lately and because you deserve to be spoiled. And I’d like to be the person to spoil you… if you’d let me.’
It wasn’t fair. It was a good line and, under other circumstances, would have worked very well.
‘Do you want to come in?’ I was going to have to make it clear to him that a relationship wasn’t on the cards. It wasn’t fair of me to have avoided the subject on Tuesday night.
He nodded. ‘Only if it’s not too inconvenient.’
‘You could never be an inconvenience.’ His eyes caught mine and he looked hopeful for a moment. I imagined him giving me one of his super-hugs, but this time the feeling was accompanied by butterflies in my stomach. I hadn’t had those before around Stevie. What was happening to me? It must be the hormones. Yes, that was it, a mix of hormones and vulnerability. It would go. Soon. I stepped back and indicated that he should step past me.
‘Cup of tea?’
‘Yes please.’
‘Go through to the lounge and make yourself comfortable.’
Butterflies continued to dance as I gently placed the flowers in a vase while the kettle boiled. I jumped at another knock on the door. ‘I won’t be a minute,’ I shouted to Stevie. ‘I’ll just see who that is.’
Pulling the cardigan round me again, I opened the front door. ‘Michael?’
‘I’m sorry to interrupt your evening,’ he said, ‘but I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you. I bought you these.’ He handed me a bouquet in pinks and purples.
‘They’re gorgeous, Michael, but—’
‘Sorry, Elise, but can I just say something because I’m going to chicken out like I did on Wednesday if I don’t get on with it?’
I gulped. ‘Okay.’ I glanced back down the hall towards the lounge. Could Stevie hear? Oh my goodness, what could I do? I couldn’t shuffle up the hall and shut the lounge door without making Michael suspicious, I couldn’t tell Michael to shut up, and I couldn’t step outside in only my PJs and a cardigan.
Michael took a deep breath. ‘I know I wasn’t very friendly when we first met, but you know that was about Daniel rather than you. As I got to know you, I could tell you were different from the string of girls he usually brings home and I found myself liking you more and more. After what happened with Amber, I never wanted to let anyone get close to me again, but I realised I’d take that risk for you. I wanted to say this on Saturday, but I screwed up with that game your friend started so I asked you out this week to try and recover it, but I lost my nerve then too. I wanted to ask if you’d go out with me. Properly. On a date. Not just as friends.’
What a beautiful, heartfelt speech. A tear slipped down my cheek.
Michael chewed on his thumbnail. ‘I’ve made you cry! Was it that bad?’
I shook my head and wiped at the rogue tear. ‘No. It was lovely. I’m sorry, though. It has to be a no.’
‘Is it because of Daniel?’
‘It’s not Daniel,’ I said. ‘It’s not you either, Michael. It’s me.’ I groaned. ‘I can’t believe I just said that. It sounds like such a cliché and I don’t mean it to. I can’t give you a proper reason right now and I’m really sorry for that, but I can’t get involved. I should have said so last night. You’re not the only one who chickened out of things.’
‘I thought there was something between us that night at the car park.’
There was! But I didn’t want him to cling onto that and turn it into a ray of hope. ‘I do like you, Michael, but just as a friend. In the car park, I think I was just caught up in the moment. I was upset. You were there for me.’
Michael nodded. ‘Is it that other bloke from Saturday night? Are you seeing him?’
My stomach clenched and I hoped Stevie had the humanity to stay in the lounge and not punish Michael with an appearance in the hall. ‘No, I’m not seeing him either. He’s a good friend, though, and I’d like to think you and I can be friends too.’ I groaned again. ‘Another cliché! I genuinely mean it, though. I really, really like you and I’d like us to be friends, but I understand if you’d rather not. I can’t offer you any more than that, though.’
Michael nodded slowly. ‘That’s a definite no, isn’t it?’
‘Sorry.’
He shrugged. ‘Friends it is, then. But I may need some space to get you out of my head.’
My heart sank. What had I done to the poor guy? He took one more long, sad look into my eyes. ‘I’d better go. Goodbye, Elise.’ He leaned forward and gently kissed me on the cheek.
‘Goodbye, Michael,’ I whispered as I closed the door.
‘You went out with Michael this week too?’ I jumped and turned round. Stevie stood in the lounge doorway, a strained expression on his face.
‘You heard everything?’
He nodded.
‘I’m sorry, Stevie. You both asked me out after the party. I agreed to see you on consecutive nights so I could let you both down lightly, but I chickened out.’
‘So what you said to Michael applies to me too? You’re not interested in me either?’