Babies in Waiting (41 page)

Every day she spent with Toni, she made sure she stayed until James got home from work. Then, while Toni went off to the bathroom to have a minute to herself, she and James would chat and she’d give him a report on Toni’s state of mind. He always made time to ask how she was, to comment on how beautiful Millie was, to ask about her plans for the days to come. She knew he was just being nice. Of course that was the case, but he was just so . . . amazing. Funny, good-looking (oh my God, so good-looking), and talented! Toni had shown her some of James’ design work, and he really was brilliant. He’d recently done the design for a shampoo billboard ad, and whenever Gemma drove past the billboard, she got a little thrill that she knew him.

Things might have been different if there was any hope of something happening between her and Ben. But Ben was head over heels in love with Kat. He’d recently asked if he could take Millie out for the day, just him and Kat, and so far, Gemma had said no, but she knew she was
just doing it to be spiteful. Ben was very good with his baby daughter. Millie would be perfectly safe. She just couldn’t bear the thought that people might think Kat was Millie’s mum.

She knew it was ridiculous having a crush on James. He was her best friend’s husband, for God’s sake, and she’d just spent months hating Louise for going for a married man. It was just . . . well, next to James, no one else seemed really good enough.

When he’d rung her that first time to talk about Toni’s PND, she’d saved his mobile number, and of course she had his email address. When the new iPad came out, she read a report about it, and, on impulse, sent him a quick mail with the link. He sent a warm response, so the next time she read something about design she thought he’d like, she mailed it too. When Ben told her a particularly silly joke she texted it to James, and he sent her one back about two penguins in a bar. After a while, they were exchanging an email or a text pretty much every day. It was just a harmless friendship, she told herself. But she couldn’t help imagining what it would be like to have James in her life, making her laugh every day, looking after her like he looked after Toni.

It started as a niggle. Every time James came home and Gemma was round for the afternoon he would walk her out to her car and chat to her. I wouldn’t have minded, but, firstly, he seemed to stay out there ages, and, secondly, he didn’t do it for anyone else. Not Louise, not Rob or Caro, just Gemma, like she was this delicate little flower who needed to be handed into her fairy carriage. I started looking out of the window when he went outside with her, and they’d stand next to the car and chat. It wasn’t like they snogged or anything, but I couldn’t help hating the fact that James always seemed to laugh when he talked to her. He didn’t laugh like that with me any more . . . he was too busy being concerned and careful.

I suppose I just had too much time on my hands to worry about it, because it really started to bug me, and one evening, after he’d been out there for sixteen minutes (and yes, I timed it), I did something I never, ever thought I’d do. Something I know other women do all the time, but I’ve always thought was the height of craziness. I waited
till James had gone to shower, and I went through his phone. Sure enough, there were texts from Gemma, and texts from James to her. I felt like throwing up, but then I read the messages. They were all just friendly messages, jokes, mostly. All of Gemma’s ended with xxx, but she does that on every message she sends me too.

I didn’t say anything to James in case he thought I had the crazies again. Was I being paranoid? Was I reading too much into their friendship? I just didn’t know. Well, the best way to decide would be through close observation.

‘So here’s my plan,’ I said to James excitedly. ‘I’m going to throw a party!’

‘You’re going to what?’ he said, disbelievingly.

‘I want to say thank you to Gemma and Toni for all their support over the last while, not to mention my dad and Rob and Caro. So I thought we could have them all over for Christmas drinks and mince pies.’

‘Are you sure? I mean, doesn’t it sound a bit stressful?’

‘For who? You or me?’

‘You. And me. You know I’m not very good at parties.’

‘You always say that, and then you end up being the life and soul, and having a splendid time, and I have to prise the lampshade off your head and drag you home at dawn.’

‘Ah, but if the party is here, I’m already home!’

‘I knew you’d come round to my way of thinking!’ I said, grinning at him.

‘Seriously, though, Toni, are you sure you’re up to it?’

‘I won’t know unless I do it. But I have to re-enter the
real world. Harry’s three months old now, his colic is so much better, and I’m much better too. I really do want to do it.’

We fixed a date, and amazingly, everyone we invited said yes, even Rob and Caro (although Caro was going to have to dash off early to go to something much more glamorous). Louise even rang up and said, ‘Can I be incredibly cheeky and have two plus ones?’

‘Two? You and Peter, plus two?’

‘Well, as the party is a Saturday night, I’ll have Simon staying with me. And, well, I thought I would like to invite Adam. So you could meet him.’

‘The handsome and mysterious Mr Harper? Of course! And we’d love Simon to come too.’

I kept things simple and we just did canapés, most of which I got from M&S, and mince pies, and James got a recipe at work for mulled wine and did an enormous saucepanful. My dad was first to arrive, and in no time at all our little living room was full of people. Gemma arrived with little Millie, and we put her in our bedroom in her carrycot. Harry was already fast asleep in his Moses basket. ‘We’ve got the monitor so we’ll hear them if they wake up,’ I assured her. She looked very pretty, and definitely a bit overdressed for a small party at a mate’s house . . . she’d got her figure back in no time at all, and she was wearing a very classy black dress, which was a little bit too old for her, and very high heels.

Louise arrived with her ‘plus two’. The mysterious Mr Harper was quite a hunk, a little bit older, but clearly
besotted with Louise. He’d brought a couple of bottles of nice bubbly (so I knew Rob and Caro would approve of him!). Simon had little Peter in a sling on his front, fast asleep, and he proudly refused to take him off. ‘He loves to sleep like this,’ he insisted. ‘I’m happy to wear him all night.’

Soon, people were chatting away . . . and I was surprised at who hit it off with whom. Simon stood by the mulled wine in the kitchen, and was having an uproarious time giggling away with Robyn, then shushing her because of the sleeping baby. After a glass or two, he got quite camp, and they seemed to be having a whale of a time. Adam was in serious conversation with my father about the Mesopotamians, or some other ancient seafaring nation, and my dad looked pleased as punch to have someone knowledgeable to talk to. Louise and Caro had monopolised the sofa and seemed to be talking fashion. And, surprise, surprise, James was sitting at the kitchen counter, talking intently to Gemma. I handed around a plate of warm mince pies, and then James called me over.

‘Toni . . . listen to this! Gemma’s had an amazing idea.’ I went over, and Gemma looked up at me and smiled.

‘James has got all excited because I told him I’m going to study next year.’

‘Are you?’

‘Yes. I’ve thought about it, and I think I want to become a midwife. It’ll mean doing a three-year course, but I think it’s such an amazing thing to do. As you would know!’

I laughed. ‘Try not to deliver too many babies on kitchen
floors when you’re heavily pregnant, though. That’s my advice. So when will you start?’

‘Next September, when Millie’s one.’

‘Wow, I’m really proud of you, Gemma. That’s an amazing plan. And I think you’ll be great at it.’

‘Won’t she?’ said James, flinging his arm around her shoulders and giving her a squeeze. Gemma blushed bright red. I felt my stomach tie itself into a knot, but I smiled and forced myself to walk away and mingle.

Rob and Simon called me over to say that the mulled wine was running low. Entirely due to their efforts, I might add! I yelled for James, and he dragged himself away from Gemma, grabbed a couple more bottles of red and went to make more.

Caro came over to kiss me goodbye. She had a cab waiting to take her to another party. ‘Glad you’re still, you know . . . you, darling,’ she said, wiping her lipstick off my cheek. ‘We’ll get those eyebrows seen to in the New Year and you’ll be right back to the Toni I know and love.’

Everyone had a drink and they’d had plenty of snacks, so I went to sit with Louise on the sofa for a bit.

‘This is quite a hit!’ she said, looking around the room.

‘Well, your Adam, who is lovely by the way, has made a friend for life. My dad loves anyone who’ll let him talk shop.’

‘Is your dad a sailor?’

‘Historian. But Adam knew something about Phoenician biremes, so he’s in there.’

‘A man of hidden depths. I didn’t know he knew about that stuff.’

‘So how are things going?’

‘Slowly. Well. But slowly. We have a date about once a week, and we’re getting to know one another. He’s a nice man.’

‘He’s a silver fox!’

‘Well, that too. But I’m in no rush to hurry things along. I’ve made enough spur-of-the-moment mistakes to last a lifetime. And besides, with Peter, I have to be sure. I’m taking care of two of us now.’

‘Oh, speaking of taking care, have you heard Gemma’s thinking of training as a midwife?’

‘Really? Well, it’s good to hear she’s got some direction. She’s a smart girl. She’ll do well.’

‘Won’t she just? Beauty and brains, and the perfect baby. She’s got it all.’

Obviously I hadn’t hidden the vitriol in my voice, because Louise looked at me sharply.

‘What’s going on?’

‘Oh, you know, the usual. Teenage sirens hitting on my husband.’

‘Really?’ said Louise. ‘But James can’t be taking it seriously, can he? Not your James.’

Ah. My James. I looked over at him. He was measuring brandy to pour into the mulled wine, and laughing at something Gemma was saying. He’d put on his glasses to read the recipe, but then he peered over them at her like an old professor and they both burst out giggling again. In the course of this mad, mad year, I hadn’t paid James as much attention as I should have. He’d stuck by me
through my pregnancy, through the stress of Harry’s birth and all that came after. He’d been loving, supportive and dear, and even nice to my friends. And since Harry was born, he’d never once complained about what he might be missing out on . . . going out, holidays. Even sex. And before you ask, no we hadn’t, not since a few weeks before the birth. After the caesarean, my mid-section had been very tender and the post-natal depression had completely removed my libido. And he’d never once asked, or nagged, or even hinted. I knew how high his sex drive was, but he had been incredibly patient and understanding.

‘Wow,’ said Louise softly, beside me.

‘Wow, what?’

‘You’re right. Gemma’s staring at him with those big cow eyes. Sorry to say it, but that is one smitten kitten.’

Yes, there was lissom, slim, nineteen-year-old Gemma, staring at my husband with undisguised adoration. My handsome husband, who hadn’t had sex in four months, and whose wife seemed to take him totally for granted. The room seemed very small then, and very dark. Had I wanted a baby so much that I’d gambled away James, the best thing ever to happen to me? Was I going to lose him? I thought about going over and hanging on his arm, or warning Gemma off, but I was too scared to. What if they laughed at me? What if he turned to me and said, ‘Well, now that you mention it, I
do
prefer Gemma, with her thirty-inch hips and her perfect girl baby who never cries.’

So in the end, I spent the rest of the party sitting right
there on the sofa, glaring at them both and wishing death and destruction, or at least boils and cellulite, on Gemma.

It was a successful party, but it didn’t go on late. At about ten, Louise pulled Simon away from his new BFF Robyn, and they headed off home with little Peter and the lovely Adam. Robyn persuaded my dad to drink a shot of Jägermeister, and they tottered off together to get a train.

I got up then, and started tidying up in a kind of frenzied way, chucking cans and bottles into a bin bag and clinking glasses together, making far too much noise. Sure enough, one of the babies woke up and squawked, and that woke the other one up. James and Gemma went upstairs together to settle them, leaving me standing staring miserably into the sink.

‘All right, little fella,’ I heard James say over the baby monitor, and I heard a rustle as he picked Harry up. Gemma shushed Millie, and I could hear her moving around, packing up their stuff. I don’t think they realised the monitor was still on and that I could hear them. I heard James say, ‘Relax, I’ll sort all of that and carry it down to the car. You just worry about that lovely little girl.’

‘Thanks, but what about Harry?’ said Gemma.

‘He’s gone straight back to sleep,’ whispered James, and I heard him put Harry back into the Moses basket and tuck him in. ‘Just wanted a little cuddle.’

‘Thank you so much for tonight,’ said Gemma. ‘I had such a great time.’

‘Really? All you did was chat to me!’ said James, walking
right into the trap. Here it comes, I thought, and gripped the edge of the sink like it was Gemma’s throat.

‘That was the best bit,’ said Gemma. ‘I like talking to you. You’re . . . you’re amazing.’

Well that’s it out in the open, I thought. Now I have to listen to them snog over the monitor, my heart breaking . . .

And then something happened that I hadn’t bargained on. You see, I may have mentioned that James is gorgeous. Yes, I know that everyone thinks their man is dazzling, but James’ hotness has been independently verified by over a hundred of my friends and family. He really is dropdead stunning. As a result, women hit on him all the time, and he is a master at letting them down gently and politely. And this is what he said.

‘Gem, you’re the amazing one. You’ve had a baby all on your own, you’re doing a great job of raising her, and you’re planning to go into a challenging career. You’ve got your whole life ahead of you, and I just know there’s a super guy who’s going to wake up every morning, thanking his lucky stars he’s got you.’