I was pretty quiet at work the next day. I know Annie was worried. Midafternoon, after barely a word out of me all day, she said, “Right, come on. Let’s go to the café and have some cake. Something’s clearly bothering you.”
Despite my protests I found myself outdoors and walking down the street to a café—not the one that Tom had taken me to, thank God—realizing that all those years of child-rearing had turned Annie into someone who couldn’t be messed with. I had a fleeting thought of my own child. Was that how I’d be in ten years’ time? I had a horrible feeling that this baby might play me like a fiddle, just like her father did. Whoever her father was.
Annie ordered cake and I had a fruit salad and we sat outside under a parasol, enjoying the summer sun.
“What’s up?” she asked. “Come on, you can tell me.”
I felt terrible. How could I tell her that last Friday I’d had a DNA test on the fetus and that I was waiting to see who its father was? She’d be horrified. She was my best friend. We’d worked together for years. We shared every secret, every stupid thing we’d done. She used to say that whenever she did something embarrassing she’d think, I can’t wait to tell Emma about this. But this was way, way beyond embarrassing. And maybe if the test results showed Harry was the father, I could tell her about it and we could both cringe, but not now.
So I just said, “I’m worried about the baby. Whether it will be okay,” and she gave me a long look as though she knew that wasn’t it, but talked kindly and firmly about why I shouldn’t worry unless there was something to worry about.
“You’re fit and healthy,” she said. “You eat well. You don’t drink too much.” She gave a little cough. “Nowadays.” We both laughed, remembering some parties we’d been to when we were young. “Just enjoy being pregnant. If there’s something to worry about, the doctors will tell you soon enough. Don’t anticipate problems.”
“I don’t remember you being like that,” I said, remembering her reaction when she had eaten a cracker with Brie on it then realized it was on the forbidden list. “You worried all the time.”
“We’re not talking about me.” She finished her coffee. “And while we’re talking about you, who was that guy at your house yesterday?”
I’d known I wouldn’t get away with that. Since she’d had children Annie was like a bloodhound, able to sniff out trouble a mile off.
“Oh, him.” I thought quickly. “He lives down the road.”
“What did he want? You didn’t seem very happy to see him.”
“He was at a barbecue we went to last summer and whenever I see him now he wants to chat. I don’t like him though.”
“Why did he call round?”
“Oh, he does that sometimes if he sees I’m working from home. He asks if I want a break. A coffee. He’s irritating.”
She sat back. “You’ve got a good-looking guy calling round when you’re working from home and you haven’t told me? Does Harry know?”
“Yeah, he knows he’s a pain. I don’t let him into the house, though.”
From Annie’s expression I could tell she had me sussed. She knew I was lying about something.
“Emma, don’t take any risks,” she said. “You’ve got a lovely husband. A happy marriage. Don’t do anything to mess that up.”
That was so unfair—and yet so spot-on—that I started to cry. I didn’t know whether I was crying with anger or with guilt. I brushed Annie away when she tried to put her arm around me.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“It’s just my hormones,” I said, drying my eyes. “They’re all over the place. Don’t worry, though, I’m not having an affair. That guy is just a bit of a nuisance, that’s all.”
We walked back to the office in silence. I knew she was mulling things over. I just hoped she didn’t connect Tom with the baby I was expecting.
* * *
• • •
I got home at six that night. Harry’s car was in the driveway and when I opened the front door he came to greet me from the kitchen.
“Hi, sweetheart.” He hugged me and kissed my cheek. “Good day?”
“It was fine. Busy.”
“Well, that’s good. Why don’t you sit in the garden and I’ll bring dinner out to you?”
I went upstairs to change into shorts and a tank top then came back to the kitchen. Suddenly I was starving.
“Something smells good. What are we having?”
“Spaghetti.” He passed me a little bowl of olives, slick with garlic and chilli. “Go and put your feet up outside. I’ll only be a few minutes.”
I reclined my chair, enjoying the sun on my body. I’d worked hard that day, mainly to avoid answering any more of Annie’s questions. I caught her glancing over at me but just gave her a brief smile each time and focused on my work. That night with Tom had changed all of my relationships.
After dinner Harry and I stayed outside for a couple of hours. Harry had a glass of wine and was reading a book and I was following a group of mums on a forum who were talking about their recent childbirths. It was funny, really funny at times, but was making me squirm and cross my legs. It was just as I’d hoped pregnancy would be and I could feel myself start to relax.
Then as we were going into the house for the night, Harry said, “Oh, something came for you today.” He went into the dining room and came back with a huge box. “I’ve no idea what it is, do you?”
“No. Are you sure it’s for me?”
“Your name’s on the box. Have you ordered anything for work?”
“No. I’d have it delivered there, anyway. There’s always someone who can sign for it. When did it get here?”
“No idea. It was left with the guy next door. He was working from home and took it in. He brought it round when he saw my car tonight.”
I opened up the box. I had to. Harry was standing next to me, wondering what was in it. His birthday wasn’t for a long time; neither was mine. I just knew this wasn’t going to be good but had no excuse for not opening it.
Inside was a huge white teddy bear with a tartan bow around its neck.
“Wow,” said Harry, pulling it out. “That’s nice.” He put it on the table. “Who sent it?”
“I’ve no idea. Could it be your mum and dad?”
“No, they’re coming to see us next week. They wouldn’t send something like this through the post. They never buy anything online anyway. Isn’t there a note to say who sent it?”