‘It must be some biological quirk to keep pregnant women faithful to their baby-daddies,’ Liv offered as the doors to the lift slid open and several people burst out ahead of them.
‘Which is why I’ve set my sights on seducing Sam. At the wedding! It’s Friday week. He finally caved and invited me as his plus one.’ Ali grinned. ‘I am going to seduce the shite out of him.’
‘Well, you’ve never looked more alluring.’ Liv brought up the list for the baby’s room on her phone.
‘Thank you. I happen to agree.’
The IKEA trip was eye-opening for Ali. ‘I’d no idea babies needed so much bullshit,’ she remarked as they finished loading up the car.
‘Yeah,’ Liv agreed, swinging into the driver’s seat. ‘Imagine how much crap it’d be if Nella wasn’t donating some of her old stuff.’
Ali hopped in beside her, pulling out her phone to check the time.
‘Right, I’ve gotta get home and finalise everything before rehearsals tomorrow. I cannot believe this is really going to happen!’
‘I know,’ Liv agreed, steering them out of the car park. ‘I’ll be honest, when you first told me, I would have bet my life on you never getting a word of it down on paper.’
‘Thank you!’ Ali would have been pissed off if she wasn’t also completely stunned that she’d done it. ‘I’m really hoping this leads to more things. I know it’s stupid to put too much on one four-night show, but I just feel this real pressure to make my mark before the kid comes and my life is over and I turn into a one-woman buffet for this grabby baby.’
‘I get that,’ Liv replied. ‘I’m like that about the thesis, well, apart from the life-ending bit. My life will be continuing apace.’ She winked. ‘Though Amy and I have been talking about trying to get away for a bit after the deadline.’
‘What?’ Ali tried to keep the terror out of her voice, but Liv’s hasty backtracking suggested she hadn’t been that successful.
‘Just for a couple of months, maybe. I’ve been doing this thesis for a year and a half. I just need a breather. And Amy thinks the Insta-game is this close to imploding, so she wants to plan her career pivot.’
Liv’s deadline was just months after the baby was due. Ali knew it was selfish to expect Liv to co-parent her Tinder Baby, but whenever she’d thought ahead to those newborn days, it was a montage of her and Liv doing the baby thing. Always. She wouldn’t allow herself to imagine Sam in that picture out of self-preservation. Suddenly it seemed more crucial than ever to get Sam back.
Unless she wanted to move in with Mini. But, oh God, no way. Frankly, it would probably lead to a murder-suicide situation. Safer for everyone concerned for Mini and Ali to only see each other for finite periods in neutral locations. Speaking of, she’d completely forgotten her mother was coming to the rehearsal tomorrow. They had agreed she could vet any of the lines she didn’t like. It had seemed like the sane thing to do when she announced the planned show to Mini but now, with the prospect looming, she was nervous.
My So-Called Best Life had become something much more personal as the weeks and months of development had passed. What she’d thought originally was a funny, quippy show about how crazy Instagram was had ultimately become a hopefully funny, quippy show about how crazy she was. And Instagram. But mainly her. She’d also written far more about Miles and Mini than she’d planned, and she knew Mini could very well object. It was definitely going to be tricky. Terry had agreed to come along as moral support and perhaps to help if Mini needed convincing.
‘Ali?’ Liv’s alarm cut through Ali’s churning thoughts. ‘Please don’t look so worried. It’s not even definite yet.’
‘Oh God. No. Sorry, it’s not you and Amy going off. That sounds really good.’ Ali pulled a smile together as best she could. ‘Sorry, I was just thinking about Mini. I’m showing her the show during rehearsal tomorrow.’
‘Ahh. OK. Shit.’
Ali laughed. ‘Yep, that sums it up, just about, I’d say.’
‘Maybe she’ll like it?’ Liv sounded doubtful.
‘I hate it.’
The production tech was trying very hard to look as if he wasn’t listening in to Mini’s assessment of My So-Called Best Life as he fussed with leads in the corner of the stage.
Mini was front row centre with Erasmus, as always, by her side, on his phone.
Ali stood onstage feeling winded from the gut-punch of Mini’s words and exhausted from her second full run-through of the day. She was fully off-book now, which was amazing, but the look on Mini’s face was draining the life out of her. Fuck. She hates it. Great. Whatever she wants changed will need to be rewritten and re-learned and, if it’s dialogue from either Rational Ali or Thirsty Ali, re-shot. Great, great, great.
‘So just to clarify’ – Terry was stepping out from his seat behind the curtain – ‘you hate … all of it?’
‘All of it?’ Mini repeated vaguely, momentarily distracted by Erasmus showing her something on his phone. She muttered instructions to him and then returned to the matter at hand. ‘Where were we? Ah yes, the ending. Look, I hate the ending. It’s too flaccid. You need more of an emotional climax there. In my opinion,’ she added as a diplomatic afterthought.
‘OK, so you just hate the ending.’ Ali rolled her eyes. ‘You know, when you’re giving feedback, just a blanket “I hate it” is kind of misleading.’
‘Hmmmmm?’ Mini was back leaning into Erasmus’s phone. ‘No! Tell him that, Turner or no Turner, there’s no way he’s withdrawing any more blood this week. Good God.’
Erasmus nodded and resumed tapping.
‘Edmund.’ Mini sighed exasperated. ‘Ali, it’s excellent, pumpkin. Well done. I love the bit about Miles and the dumb-waiter at the restaurant. I’d forgotten that story. I think you need to sort the ending, though. Ali and Sam need to get together at the end.’
‘But it’s not fiction, Mini. I can’t just pretend we do when we haven’t.’
‘Why can’t you? He’s not coming to the show, is he?’
‘Well, I don’t know. I hope so. I don’t know for definite. But, no! That is too demented. Stop it with your lunatic suggestions.’
‘All right,’ Mini replied mildly. ‘Just a thought. Maybe a song at the end or something. That always gets people going, emotions-wise.’
Ali had to laugh. Mini talked about emotions as if they were a completely distant, oddly quaint concept.
‘Maybe a song is a thought, Ali,’ Terry interjected. ‘Like, conclude with an announcement, like a title card in a film, sort of wrapping up the narrative and then play them out with a song.’
‘I like it.’ Ali grinned. ‘It’s very Miles, actually. Something like “At the time of going into production, Ali and Sam are still only tentatively communicating through flirty GIFs’’.’ Ali scoffed slightly. ‘Then I could do ‘Que Sera Sera’ on the ukulele. There won’t be a dry eye in the house.’
Chapter 25
‘When Schmiddy told me he’d asked Sinead to marry him, I assumed he’d got her pregnant and I was like “Careful now, man, get proper confirmation of that, there’s a lot of ‘pregnant for the ’gram-itis’ going around”.’ The groomsman, Paddy, roared laughing at his own opener while, beside her, Ali felt Sam tense.