Jaz is in a weird mood. I start telling them about my lovely day out with Marcus and how he landed a gig, when Jaz suddenly snaps at me, asking if I’m even bothering to see my real parents these days.
She gets up to get a spoon and Ellie whispers that Jaz is just feeling emotional because the baby’s now overdue. ‘She’s worried. She won’t admit it, but she is.’
I nod. ‘I get it. But she shouldn’t take it out on me.’
I’m fed up being the target of Jaz’s grumpiness. And when she gets back to the table and can’t resist another snipe, saying, ‘You’ll be moving in with Marcus next,’ I’ve had enough.
‘Look, Jaz, I might be a bit single-minded about spending time with my biological dad, but I’m not the only one who’s obsessed. Have you heard yourself recently? Going on about your stupid birthing schedule, with everything planned to the nth degree. Don’t you realise it doesn’t work like that? Your waters are probably going to break when you’re in the supermarket and you’ll likely give birth in the bloody taxi taking you to hospital? Then you’ll be in so much pain, you’ll be demanding all the pain relief that’s going!’
Jaz looks horrified and I regret my outburst almost immediately.
She glares at me. ‘So what you’re saying is that however much I plan it, something bad is sure to happen to me? Well, thanks. Thanks so much for that!’
‘No, I didn’t mean that. I just meant every birth is different and maybe you can’t predict precisely the way it will go.’
‘Well, it didn’t sound like that to me.’ She’s gone pale with rage. ‘That was such a selfish thing to say to me. But why am I surprised? That’s you through and through, Maddy. Always thinking of yourself.’
‘That’s not true!’ My hands are trembling at the confrontation.
‘Now, girls,’ Ellie says lightly. ‘No fisticuffs, please!’
But Jaz isn’t finished. ‘I can’t believe you’re keeping the fact you’re seeing Marcus from them. You’re so bloody luck to have parents living so close to you. What you’re doing is so selfish.’
‘Do you know what? I couldn’t give a stuff what you think of me. I know I’m doing the right thing, getting to know Marcus, and that’s all that matters. And by the way, it’s hardly my fault your parents live in Scotland and can’t be bothered to come down for the birth of their first grandchild.’
‘Madison!’ snaps Katja in horror.
‘Mum’s just had an operation on her gall bladder,’ Jaz says icily. ‘Harry and I will take the baby up to see them.’
I swallow hard, wishing I could take the words back. ‘Well, just so you know, I am actually going over to Hartwell House after this.’
Jaz gives a bitter laugh. ‘Well, I’ll believe that when I see it! You’ve been promising for ages. Honestly, Madison, I just hope this little one never treats me so carelessly, because I think it would break my heart.’ She pats her bump.
There’s an awkward silence. No-one speaks up for me, and the awful thing is, I know they’re right.
‘I am going to see my parents later,’ I say, a wobble in my voice. ‘But I really don’t see why I should feel guilty about getting to know Marcus. He is my real father, after all.’
Jaz shakes her head. ‘No, he’s not. A real father is there for you always, supporting you and loving you. Katja says Marcus has always known of your existence. Your mum told him she was pregnant. So why hasn’t he been in touch with you before now? I’m damn sure if I had a kid and I knew where they were, I’d do everything I could to be a proper parent to that kid.’
I glance at Katja. ‘Well, it’s nice to know you discuss me behind my back.’
She looks alarmed. ‘What? No, of course I don’t.’
‘Well, you obviously do. Jaz just told me.’
‘Don’t drag Katja into this,’ snaps Jaz. ‘She only told us because she was worried about you.’
Katja’s face hardens. ‘Exactly. Jaz is right, Maddy.’
‘And I’m wrong, of course. Let’s face it, I’m always the one in the wrong, aren’t I? But hey, it’s lucky for me that I have someone perfect like you, Katja, watching my every move, determined to turn me into a better person!’
Katja looks bewildered. ‘What on earth are you talking about?’
I give a bitter laugh. ‘Oh, just that it’s suddenly become painfully clear what I am to you, Katja. I’m your little pet project, aren’t I? I always have been. Ever since we met, you’ve been judging me and criticising me, telling me I’m doing things wrong, trying to make me change my ways. All under the guise of friendship. But do you know what I think?’
‘No.’ Katja’s face is like thunder. ‘But I’m sure you’re going to tell me.’
I’m shaking as my anguish rises to the surface. ‘I actually think you get a kick out of feeling superior to me. You do, don’t you? But I don’t need a bloody mentor. I’m not some frigging stray dog who needs rescuing. I need a true friend. A normal friend. One who accepts me, warts and all, and isn’t forever on a mission to turn me into someone I’m not!’
I can only hold back the tears for so long.
Time for a dramatic exit.
What a bloody awful day! And I still have to see my parents…
CHAPTER NINETEEN
‘Tell Mum you’re in contact with Marcus,’ urges my sister, Chloe.
Jasmine nods. ‘Yes. Then Mum can tell Dad about it, if you feel you can’t.’
I smile sadly at the twins. They’re both right, of course. And it’s interesting that it’s only since talking to them that I’ve realised the real reason I’ve been staying away from Hartwell House.
It isn’t because I don’t want Mum to know I’m in contact with Marcus, her ex.
It’s actually because I feel guilty about Dad.
We’ve had our differences, Dad and I, and things still aren’t easy between us. But that doesn’t mean I don’t love him. And when you love someone, you want to protect them from anything you think might hurt them. How will Dad feel, knowing I’m now in touch with my ‘other dad’? My ‘real dad’.
But as Jasmine pointed out, he’ll be even more hurt if he thinks I’ve been keeping my meetings with Marcus a secret from him.
The twins are sitting opposite me on the living room floor, leaning against the sofa, each resting their chin on their knees as they contemplate my problem, while I’m lying on my side on the rug in front of the fire, my head propped up with one hand.
I love that Chloe and Jasmine are always there for me. We might not see each other often these days – they spend a lot of time in London and I have my flat in Sunnybrook – but the bond is still as strong as ever. The dynamic has always been the sensible twins making allowances for their rebellious older sister. I might be the eldest by three years, but the twins have always been far more mature. I’ve never had difficulty telling them apart – to me, it’s obvious - although most people have no idea which twin is which, and I’m not surprised. They’re pretty much identical, with their white blonde hair, cut in a short, choppy style that shows off their amazing cheekbones, their big blue eyes and wide smiles on their generous cupid’s-bow lips.