‘One last post? Like in a heist movie? One last job? Before you retire from your life of fakery and go straight for the rest of your days?’ Sam looked sullen.
‘Well, sorta yeah, but it’s going to be an honest post. I just want to set the record straight. And Amy has found a really good sponsor, who is paying major money. Money that I’ll need when the baby comes, Sam.’
He absorbed this without comment, just scuffing his trainers on the ground and avoiding her eye. At least he’s not railing at me, she thought. She could see Liv and Mini waiting patiently, if presumably a little awkwardly, in the car and knew she needed to wrap this up.
‘Why don’t we meet and talk about it properly? Will you? Please, Sam, we have to find a way to at least still be friends.’ She could see immediately this wasn’t the way.
‘Oh, as if it’s me that’s making all of this difficult! I’m the one refusing to play along, am I?’
‘Sam—’ Ali tried to protest but he was off. It was as if he had just suddenly detonated.
‘I’m not punishing you, Ali, I’m fucking hurt. I’m completely fucking traumatised by all of this. Prime Time have actually approached me about giving an interview and I think I’m going to do it. They’re offering private counselling if I go on. People need to know about this. It’s fucked up and it could happen to someone else. I read about this girl who told her ex that they’d had a kid together and he spent years believing he had a son and paying maintenance and then it turned out she’d made the whole thing up.’
‘OK, that’s shitty, but I did not do that, Sam,’ Ali pleaded.
‘You as good as did that. You were on the way to doing that.’
Oh God, he was on a roll now. Ali felt panicky. She couldn’t believe Prime Time were still sniffing around.
‘Please just don’t do Prime Time. If you do that, then this baby will always be able to see what happened and how she came about.’
‘Fuck’s sake, Ali! If this baby has a decent WiFi connection, she’ll be able to see all that. You made sure of it with your #BullshitBabyJourney posts and the bloody hundreds of hot takes you’ve inspired.’
The sound of a car door slamming interrupted them both.
‘Sam, you’re angry but Ali is under a lot of pressure carrying this baby and you can’t be attacking her forever.’ Ali couldn’t believe it – Mini coming to her defence. She continued towards them speaking firmly. ‘She’s made a horrendous mistake, but you don’t know what she’s been through losing her dad like that. Grief is different for everyone and we all cope with it in our own way.’
Sam’s expression was still stormy, but he didn’t argue. ‘OK,’ he muttered. ‘I’ll think about Prime Time. I haven’t said yes yet.’
‘Thank you,’ Ali said softly.
They parted and Mini led her over to Liv’s car.
‘Thanks, Mini,’ Ali whispered as they hopped in. She was quietly amazed her mum had come over and supported her like that.
‘Well, you’ve a lot going on, pregnancy is no joke. You were like a parasite inside me, as I recall.’
Liv giggled and Ali couldn’t help but grin too. ‘It is like being possessed or something,’ she piped up. ‘One minute I’m crying over a really affecting home insurance ad and the next I want to murder everyone and eat two chicken fillet rolls back-to-back.’
‘Oh pumpkin, don’t be eating chicken fillet rolls.’ Mini looked stricken at the thought.
Sam’s headlights swung over them as he turned and sped through the gate of the car park.
‘God, he’s not thawing even one little bit.’ Ali started the car, and tried to relax her shoulders. She was tense and exhausted from the angst of seeing him. They dropped Mini home and Ali resumed the Crystal Doorley podcast with the sound turned low.
‘So many women have thanked me for being so brave and sharing my weight-loss journey, which makes it all worthwhile,’ Kate was telling Crystal. ‘With the bopo movement, many women are being shamed for wanting to be healthy and look good.’
‘So true,’ replied Crystal.
‘You can’t self-appoint as brave!’ Liv shouted at the speakers. ‘You have to wait until someone else calls you brave, Kate, and then modestly deny it!!! Considering she works in PR, she doesn’t know shit about how to present herself. And, please, no one is being shamed for conforming to narrow beauty standards. Are you really going to call in to her or can we turn this crap off?’
‘Yeah, it’s late.’ Ali sighed. ‘I’ll blame the foetus.’ At the next traffic lights, she tapped out a message to Kate, blaming pregnancy tiredness. ‘You were fab on Crystal’s podcast. So brave. XXX,’ she concluded the message.
‘Fine’ was Kate’s cold response, but Ali couldn’t get caught up in her mood right now, not with the gnawing regret in her belly over her botched opportunity to get Sam back on side. Plus going to CatAnon meetings was really making her analyse her triggers around Instagram more. When they were better friends, she and Kate had communicated almost exclusively in bitchy screengrabs about other girls’ Insta-posts. They didn’t bring out the best in each other.
As they made their way toward the city, she mulled over the big picture. What were her options? If she did the Insta-post with the lie detector company, she’d be set for money for at least six months if she was smart about it. But judging by his reaction tonight, Sam would be a lost cause. She blinked to prevent the threatened tears from falling as the passing streetlights sped over the car. She realised a part of her had been certain that one way or another they would somehow work it out. That he would see her bump or see the baby hiccupping on the 22-week scan – only weeks away now – and finally put the hurt behind him. He said he was traumatised; the words landed like a blow to Ali. She’d done that. God, she had really fucked up.
‘Hey, don’t cry, Ali.’ Liv reached over and rubbed her arm in a consoling gesture.
‘Shit.’ Ali wiped her cheeks. ‘I didn’t even notice I was.’
‘Sam will come around, he will.’ Liv sounded reassuringly confident, but Ali felt that hoping was dangerous at this point.
‘Maybe I need to scrap the sponsored Insta apology post?’ Ali was trying out the idea on herself as much as Liv.
As they turned towards the toll bridge, Ali glanced over at Liv, whose mouth was set in a firm line.
‘Well, I’m always pro not putting stuff on Insta,’ she said wryly.
‘But how will you bone Amy if she’s not around choreographing my image rehab?’ Ali attempted to lighten the mood. ‘It’s you I’ve been doing all this for. The whole thing, fake preg and real preg, anything to get you back scissoring.’
‘Oh gawd, shut up, no one scissors! I’m now officially unable to hear that word without thinking of my mother,’ Liv groaned.
‘My options are do the post and get a rake of cash and potentially not have to read about how pathetic and crazy I am on the internet for the rest of my life. Or stay quiet and go beg Stephan for my actual job back and just never look at the internet again.’
‘If you stay quiet, maybe they will forget about you, Ali. It will blow over on its own eventually.’