Deranged Marriage (50 page)

My parents were staying at my flat, unable to bear the thought of me being alone at any time when the baby might make its appearance, because despite Joe being around all the time and assuring me that he had his phone on at all times he hadn’t stayed the night with me, for obvious reasons. My parents also said they didn’t want to be in Devon when their first grandchild was born, and I didn’t protest because I didn’t want to protest. Imogen and Jack were also in London. She said it was because Jack had all sorts of commitments but I felt it was because they wanted to be near as well. They were staying in a flat owned by Jack’s publisher in South Kensington, so at least I wasn’t totally over-loaded. Then Lisa and Max also found lots of reasons to drop in. My flat was shrinking. They came round most evenings, and Lisa most days since I’d stopped working. Freddie was also a constant presence, he said he needed to get my opinion on work issues nearly every evening, and he always came with Francesca. Everyone wanted to be with me for the birth, and if they’d been allowed to, I am sure they would have been more than happy to witness it.

I had borrowed chairs from the loss adjusters to accommodate my visitors, and the flat did feel awfully small, but it was lovely having a houseful and I think it also took the pressure off Joe. He was there but we weren’t alone which meant that he couldn’t think I was trying to back him into a corner; I had no spare corners in any case.

When the due date arrived, Joe arrived at nine in the morning having taken the day off work. Although I told him it wouldn’t be necessary he didn’t believe me. My parents had made breakfast and were sitting in the sitting room talking about baby names.

‘Are you sure you don’t have a favourite name?’ they asked after Joe made drinks for everyone.

‘It’s a secret,’ I said. It was a secret. One more thing that was just mine and Joe’s. We had shared a fair bit of the pregnancy with the general public. We had shared it with friends and family. We let them all be here when I was about to burst because they had been supporting me all the way and somehow, in some way this felt like a part of them all.

Joe was behaving as if this was his baby and I wasn’t doing anything to discourage that. We’d even had dinner with Joe’s parents, they’d come up to London especially. They were so nice and they behaved as if they were going to be grandparents which made me happy and guilty all at the same time. I asked Joe, once, in my braver moment what he would do when we knew the results of the test and guessing my meaning he just squeezed my hand and told me that it would be all right. I was terrified that he had convinced himself he was the father; I was terrified he was wrong. There was still so much I couldn’t forgive myself for, but I was living my life. Getting on with it. As best as I could.

George would be planning his wedding. That I knew, because it was related to me by my parents via his. They had told them that they were flying to New York for the wedding. The news made me feel resentful at first. Angry even. Because he had gone away and nothing had followed him. Whereas we were still dealing with the aftermath. And even if the baby was his, he would still marry Julia. Nothing would change his life.

Joe was still dealing with the fact that I had slept with George, the baby might not be his, and the fact that our lives had been so public. I think he would be dealing with that for a very long time.

Francesca and Freddie were still being affected at work, people still wanted to know about the marriage-pact baby, because that’s what it was. Although the story had died, there was still the last piece in the jigsaw to finish it off properly and they were constantly phoning to ask for the first picture, or the exclusive on the name.

My parents were still being overprotective, worried that I might not have recovered fully from events. I would never recover fully, but that wasn’t the point. They didn’t need any additional worry.

Imogen and Jack were the same. Imogen was being haunted by the way the press acted, and although she and Jack were stronger than ever (good things out of bad things), the time she spent with me will always stay with her.

Lisa and Max. Again, they won’t forget in a hurry. The amount of tears they mopped up, the fainting episodes, the neuroses. Like true friends they will always be there for me, but they can’t forget what happened.

No one can. Apart, it seems, from George.

As I stroked my baby and tried silently to coax it into the world (nine months is a hell of a long time, especially when you’re the size of a bus), I knew that even my baby would never forget.

The events surrounding his or her conception and incubation had been documented. Even if it were forgotten there might be some people who will always remember. Maybe one day he or she will read the story or hear about it some way. Perhaps I, as the mother, will have to be brave enough to explain, or perhaps I won’t. Although the head-in-the-sand Holly was supposed to have been buried, old habits die hard.

As he said ‘I do’, I wondered if George would think of us, I wondered if he would consider for a minute the repercussions of the aftermath. I don’t expect he would.

I know he thought I forgave him in the end but I didn’t really. Not deep down. I forgave him to preserve our memories, our childhood, because I could never let go of that, but that was it. He would never be forgiven for the events surrounding the marriage pact, the court case, the media circus and me.

*

‘Here you go.’ Joe handed me a cup of tea and sat next to me. He put his hand on the bump and I wondered if—when it turned into a real person—I would ever have any physical contact with him again.

‘We’re going shopping,’ my mum announced.

‘What for, Mrs Miller?’ Joe asked. My mother turned pink. It transpired that she and my father adored Joe, and I liked to think it wasn’t just because he might be the father of their first grandchild.

‘Call me Margaret,’ she said. ‘We’re shopping for the baby shower.’

‘Honestly mum, we don’t need anything.’ I had protested and protested to no avail.

‘I don’t think you realise how much you do need. Now we’re all bringing a present and having a party, it’ll do you the world of good.’

‘It’s hopeless to argue,’ Joe said. I put my head on his shoulder.

*

‘Do you think it might happen today?’ Joe asked, when we were alone.

‘No, I really don’t.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘I don’t feel different today and I thought I would. After the scare last week.’

‘Braxton Hicks, that was scary.’ I had had my fake contractions, which believe me don’t feel fake and are enough to put you off the real thing. Joe had proved to be a real asset because instead of panicking he started timing and proclaimed them to be Braxton Hicks. Then he called the hospital for reassurance but they told him he was doing the right thing. You only go to hospital when the contractions are five minutes apart, Dr Miriam taught us that. But although the fake contractions were painful, I was glad we were given a dress rehearsal in a way. Joe was marvellous and that took some of the worry off me about the opening night.

‘Joe, do you think it’s going to be a girl or a boy.’

‘Definitely a boy.’

‘I think its going to be a girl.’

‘You’re just argumentative.’

‘How do you really feel about it?’ I had forced myself to ask this question a hundred times, which was silly because even Joe didn’t know how he felt.

‘Hol, more than anything in the world I want this baby to be mine.’

‘Me, too.’

‘But I’m a part of it now, whatever happens I’m not sure I can walk away.’ That was just what I wanted to hear.

‘What happens if I’m a crap mother?’

‘Then the poor little bugger’s doomed. No, we’ll both be great.’

‘We will, won’t we?’

‘Yeah.’ I fell asleep on his shoulder and I dreamt about fish.

*

I awoke to hear hushed voices. My parents, Imogen, Jack and Joe were all around the dining table.

‘How long was I asleep?’

‘Four hours,’ Joe told me.

‘God, I never slept so much in my life.’

‘Enjoy it while you can,’ my father said. I stood up and walked over to where they were standing. On the table was a baby car seat, a McClaren pushchair (hopefully appropriately), and loads of toys.

‘This is all for us?’ I asked, touched once again.

‘Imogen went a bit mad,’ Jack explained.

‘I want my nephew or niece to have the best.’

‘It will have the best aunt and uncle,’ I said hugging her.

‘We were going to present all the gifts later, at the party.’ My mother sounded disappointed.

‘Well you can, we’ll forget we’ve seen them, Margaret,’ Joe said. I’m sure my mother blushed.

‘Can we go for a walk?’ I asked Joe.

‘Sure, that way we’ll have space to set up the party,’ Imogen said. Everyone looked so excited and I tried not to laugh. Joe went to get my jacket and we left.

It was the beginning of autumn but summer hadn’t quite packed up and left. It was slightly cold but sunny, a lovely day. Joe took my hand as we walked to the common, and I wondered how we looked to everyone. We looked like a normal, happy couple about to have a baby. But we weren’t.

‘Will you ever forgive me?’ I asked suddenly. I didn’t mean to ask it, but once I had, I had to know the answer.

‘I will, you know. I’m not even sure if it is about forgiveness any more. Hol, I love you and I know that it’s weird that we’re still not together because in so many ways we are. Trust me, and give me a little more time.’ It was good enough for now.

We returned home after drinking hot chocolate out of paper cups and talking about how we would walk the baby round the common to get him or her to sleep. It so felt like we were a family, I had to believe that we were. That we would be.

‘Surprise,’ Freddie shouted letting off a party popper as soon as we walked through the door.

‘It’s not a surprise Freddie, we knew all about it.’

‘Oh well, I thought that maybe you would appreciate the sentiment, I thought the shock might get the baby moving.’

‘What are you talking about?’ I asked as I kissed him.

‘Apparently, according to Mother Nature.’

‘Who’s Mother Nature?’ I interrupted.

‘Lisa,’ he said. Joe started laughing. ‘She told us that in order to coax the baby out you should have a hot bath, which believe it or not she is running for you now, eat curry and go on roller coasters. In the absence of a roller coaster I thought I’d use a party popper.’ I shook my head.

My flat was a hive of activity. The presents I had already seen had been wrapped, although not the pushchair or the car seat, which had each been given a solitary bow. More presents had been added to the pile. My mum and Imogen were rushing around with plates of things, Jack and my father were watching the news. Francesca was standing watching the food activity with a look on her face which suggested that she might like to help but wasn’t sure how: Lisa I could hear singing in the bathroom.

I kissed everyone then went for my hot bath.

‘Oh Hol, it would be so great if the baby could appear tonight,’ she said, as she locked the door and I got into the bubble-filled bath. It smelt so good, like candy which made me hungry.

‘Why?’

‘Because it’s the date we believe it to be due and we’re all here.’

‘I hate to point it out but you’re always all here.’ I gave her hand a squeeze in case she took it the wrong way, although Lisa was thick-skinned.

‘But don’t you see, we can’t wait to meet junior. It’s been so long, or it felt so long and I just want to meet it.’

‘You know, you’re going to be godmother, and Max is going to be godfather.’

‘Really?’ her eyes filled with tears.

‘Of course, although I hadn’t actually talked to Joe even about a christening but there are so many reasons why you’d both be perfect.’

‘There are?’

‘You’re both my best friends, and you’re quite well off which bodes well for good presents, you’re a lot of fun, which again is good and then you’ll feel obliged to babysit all the time.’

‘I feel really touched, apart from the money thing. Hol, we’d be delighted and you won’t keep me away from babysitting, not even a bit, after all this is my trial run.’

‘As long as you get it right.’

‘Of course I will. Are you going to have other godparents?’

‘Well, of course Joe knows nothing of this yet, but I want Freddie and Francesca.’

‘Holly, traditionally a girl would have two godmothers and a godfather and a boy would have two godfathers and a godmother.’

‘When did you get to be such an expert?’

‘I thought everyone knew that.’

‘Well, my baby is special and no matter the sex it gets two of each.’ I kissed her cheek as I heaved myself out of the bath. The baby was moving which stopped me for a minute, but then I towelled myself off and went to get dressed.

People were wearing party hats when I returned to the living room, it was more like a kids’ party than a baby shower.

‘Look at you.’ I did look at them, the people I loved, the people who never questioned me, never condemned me, always supported me, and my eyes filled with tears.

‘Shit, she’s off again,’ Freddie said.

‘Stop it, it’s...’

‘HORMONES!’ everyone shouted in unison.

‘Oh, my, God!’ I dropped my sausage roll on the floor and clutched my stomach.

‘What?’ Joe jumped up from his place by my mother and was at my side.

‘I think I had one, a real one.’ I looked at him, and the others in the room and my eyes were blurred and I had no idea if I’d imagined it. Joe took out his watch.

‘I’ll time it from the next one.’ Everyone fell silent. Another one came. It really bloody hurt.

‘That was just under ten minutes, I think it’s starting.’ The room cheered which seemed a little surreal at the time.

I endured a few more contractions which suddenly moved closer and closer.

‘Six and a half minutes,’ Joe announced. ‘It’s time to go I think.’ He helped me up, but it wasn’t easy. And we walked to the door. Joe picked up my little case which had been waiting there for two weeks. Everyone lined up and kissed me. I felt like I was going on holiday, not to give birth.