Ellie shakes her head. ‘Don’t worry. The heat’s probably making her grumpy.’
‘It’s making me grumpy and I’m not about to give birth,’ agrees Primrose.
We watch Jaz drying her arms on a towel, turned away from us. ‘She’s probably really nervous about giving birth, it being her first,’ murmurs Katja.
Primrose nods. ‘She was worried she could never have kids, suffering from endometriosis. So I guess this baby is even more special.’
‘But you must get to a stage where you just want it out!’ I murmur.
‘I know you’re talking about me,’ calls Jaz, turning around, and we all make guilty faces.
On the journey back, Jaz confesses to feeing so relaxed, she could lie down on the floor of the limo and go to sleep. ‘But it’s been so lovely,’ she yawns. ‘Ouch!’
‘What is it?’ Ellie asks, as we shoot anxious glances at her.
Jaz rubs her tummy uneasily. ‘Just a weird sensation. That’s all.’
‘Oh, God, you’re not going to give birth here, are you?’ I ask with a shudder. ‘I’m hopeless with blood and all things slimy. I’d be no use at all. I’d probably faint.’
‘Of course she’s not going to have the baby here,’ says Katja soothingly, rubbing Jaz’s back. ‘She’s just tired, that’s all.’
‘Feet up, nice cup of tea when I get home,’ Jaz agrees.
No sooner has she said the words than we feel the limo braking and slowing down. And seconds later, we come to a complete standstill.
‘What’s happening?’ I crane my neck to see up ahead.
‘Road works?’ says Ellie.
Then the chauffeur’s voice comes over the intercom telephone: ‘Sorry, people. Overturned lorry up ahead. I doubt we’ll be going anywhere soon. So break out the cool drinks and enjoy.’
‘Oh, well, at least we have air conditioning,’ says Primrose.
‘But no loo,’ says Jaz, looking worried. ‘I hope we’re not stuck for long.’
After ten minutes, during which we sample some deliciously cool pineapple and mango juice and demolish the posh crisps, the door swings open and Marcus appears. He grins and holds up the guitar he’s holding. ‘Anyone know any good songs for being stuck in a traffic jam?’
‘You can play?’ I ask.
‘Yup! I was performing at a club last night and they had a lock-in till late – well, early – so I came straight to work.’
‘Brilliant,’ says Ellie. ‘Play something we can all join in with.’
‘Okey dokey.’
We all get out and watch in amazement as he wanders over to the grass verge, sits down cross-legged and starts strumming and singing ‘Wonderwall’.
After a while, people in nearby vehicles start to realise what’s happening, and they lean out of their windows to listen to the mystery performer.
‘He’s actually really good,’ murmurs Primrose in my ear, as he finishes the song and goes straight into a Beatles classic, ‘She Loves You’.
Katja’s brow wrinkles up. ‘I’m sure I’ve seen him somewhere before but I can’t place him.’ She looks around at his appreciative audience. ‘But he’s definitely used to performing. He’s not in the least bit self-conscious and he’s got everyone tapping their feet and smiling and singing along.’
‘People are taking photos.’ I point to the woman in the car in front, who’s snapping away, calling at Marcus to give her a smile. He obliges, flashing very white teeth.
‘Ouch! Ooh, that wasn’t good.’
We all swing round to look at Jaz, who’s leaning at an awkward angle against the limo.
‘What is it?’ asks Ellie anxiously.
Jaz shakes her head. ‘I hate to say it, but it felt like a contraction.’
‘But it can’t be. You’ve got another week to go till your due date,’ points out Katja.
‘Maybe baby’s coming early,’ murmurs Primrose.
‘Oof! There’s definitely something happening.’
Jaz’s panicky expression makes my heart start to race. ‘Should we call for an ambulance?’
Jaz is nodding. And now Marcus, realising what’s happening, has stopped singing.
He frowns. ‘There’s a paramedic’s van up ahead of us in the queue,’ he says, pointing, and sure enough, there is. Just four cars in front.
Jaz looks over and starts walking along the grass verge, but Ellie takes her arm. ‘Wait. We’ll get the paramedics to come to you.’
She glances back, a look of fear on her face. ‘No, I need help now!’
CHAPTER THREE
Marcus, who’s been bending to chat through the car window to the woman with the camera, straightens up and says. ‘You’re not in a fit state to walk. I’ll carry you.’ And to Jaz’s surprise, he lifts her off her feet and transports her between the cars towards the van, as the woman gets out to take more photos of these dramatic events.
The two paramedics must have seen what’s happening in their rear-view mirror because as Marcus reaches them, they get out and open the doors at the back, and we all watch anxiously as he carefully hands Jaz over to them.
And then suddenly, there’s movement up ahead and everyone is getting back into their cars. The traffic is flowing again. We hop back in and Marcus sprints back to the limo, and then we’re off, following Jaz to the hospital.
The twenty-minute journey is an anxious one and we all sit around in the waiting room after Jaz is ushered away to be examined. Marcus waves away our thanks for going beyond the call of duty, and brings us all drinks from the machine. Then he sits and calms our nerves a bit by telling us all about his other job, as a Frank Sinatra tribute act.
‘So were you singing Frank Sinatra songs at the club last night?’ I ask him.
‘Yup. You should come along. It’s always a good night.’ He fishes some business cards out of his pocket and hands them round. ‘Bring your friends!’ There’s a family sitting nearby, listening, and Marcus gets up and hands out cards to them as well, saying cheerfully, ‘Available for weddings and parties. Just give me a call.’
‘My Gran loved the Rat Pack,’ sighs Primrose, a faraway look on her face. ‘Frank Sinatra. Dean Martin. Sammy Davis Junior. She used to play their songs all the time. What’s the song most requested?’
‘That has to be “My Way”, followed closely by “New York, New York”.’
Just then, Jaz appears with a nurse and we all stand up to hear her news.
‘False alarm.’ She grins ruefully. ‘It was Braxton Hicks.’
‘Who on earth’s he?’ I ask, bemused.
Katja laughs. ‘Braxton Hicks contractions are sort of the body’s way of preparing to go into labour.’
‘Apparently they don’t mean labour will be starting any time soon, though,’ Jaz says gloomily. ‘So I guess the wait continues.’
‘A really hot curry is meant to be good,’ says Primrose.
Jaz shakes her head. ‘Can’t handle spicy food right now.’
Ellie smiles. ‘Mum used to say getting down on her knees and scrubbing the kitchen floor was what hurried me into the world.’