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Aunty Sylvia positively relished her role as surrogate Jewish mother, and unlike Ronnie, she made no apologies for it.

“Sylvia, please,” Ronnie came back. “Right now, Ruby’s busy building her career. A man will come along when the time is right. The universe never gets these things wrong.”

Ruby couldn’t quite make out what this statement meant. She decided there were two possibilities: either her mother and Clive had finally made a breakthrough in her therapy, and from now on Ronnie was going to stop making barbed comments about Ruby’s single status, or it was an indication that Ronnie found it easier to get impatient with her sister’s Jewish mothering than she did with her own.

It turned out to be the latter. A couple of hours later, as Ruby and Aunty Sylvia were leaving, Ronnie tugged her daughter’s sleeve.

“Don’t worry, darling,” she whispered. “Every night, without fail, I chant for a man for you.”

She then slipped a slim square package into Ruby’s bag. “Open it when you get home,” she said.

Chapter 5

Ruby lay in bed, gazing up at the shadows on her bedroom ceiling. So, at the age of thirty-two, she was going to have a baby brother or sister. How weird was that? The news still hadn’t quite sunk in. Would he or she look like her? What sort of a relationship would they have? She decided that since the age difference ruled out the traditional sibling relationship, she would take on the role of fun aunty figure—a bit like Aunty Sylvia, only more cool.

If it was a girl, Ruby would take her out for “princess days.” When she became a teenager, the two of them would meet for lunch and gossip about their parents, who by then would be getting old and eccentric. Ruby would listen to all her boyfriend problems. From time to time she might even babysit for Ruby’s own children. If of course Ruby had any. That involved finding a man. Suppose she didn’t? Suppose it never happened? No, she absolutely mustn’t think like that.

“I am ready to accept positive change in my life right now,” she whispered. “I am beautiful and vibrant in my uniqueness. I am a child of the universe who deserves to love and be loved. I am capable of finding love.”

Ronnie’s package had contained a CD called
Discovering
Love Through Inner Empowerment
. It consisted of daily affirmations delivered by a softly spoken, impossibly sincere Texan woman whose directives were accompanied by warbling, atonal New Age music. According to the blurb on the cover, she had been “a sex worker for twenty years, until she pulled herself back from the brink and turned her life around.”

Ruby had been about to throw the thing in a drawer and forget about it, but curiosity—fueled by there being nothing on TV—got the better of her. She found herself sliding the CD into the player.

She listened for a couple of minutes before turning it off, snorting with cynicism and unable to believe that Ronnie, even with her mystical tendencies, could have fallen for this kind of claptrap.

Now, here she was, half an hour later, lying in bed reciting the affirmations she’d just been sniggering at. She justified it in the same way she justified keeping a four-leaf clover in her purse or listening to Chanel’s astrological predictions. It was all harmless fun so long as you didn’t take it too seriously. And maybe, just maybe, affirmations weren’t so stupid. Perhaps, by repeatedly telling herself how great she was, she might improve her chances of meeting the man of her dreams.

T
HE NEXT MORNING
, she called in at Fi’s, bearing croissants and
pains au chocolat
. She had an appointment at eleven with Jill McNulty, the hospital administrator in charge of St. Luke’s prenatal department, and Fi’s was on the way.

She couldn’t wait to tell Fi that Ronnie was pregnant. More than that, she needed to talk about it. Last night, as she was falling asleep, she’d been convinced she was OK with the news. This morning, having dreamt that she’d gone to visit her parents, who didn’t recognize her, she wasn’t so sure.

Fi lived in the tiny terraced cottage in Hammersmith that she and Saul had managed to buy with the bit she had saved and his “yogurt money.” Like most struggling actors he leapt at any commercial that came his way. For a start there was always the possibility—however slim—that playing an animated yogurt pot or pizza could lead to the offer of a proper acting role. More important, commercials were financial lifesavers. They tended to pay megabucks for a couple of weeks’ work. The downside was that since he never knew when the next job would appear, he had to make the money last—often for a year or more.

For the last couple of months he’d been working at the National. He had a bit part in
Hamlet
—a role he described as “third codpiece.” During that time he’d also recorded a couple of advertising jingles. Saul had a great singing voice. He’d had a few minor singing roles in West End musicals, but family and friends who had seen him perform were surprised he’d never landed a leading part. He made no secret that this was a major ambition.

With Fi now a full-time mother, they needed every penny he earned to pay the bills. When Ben was born three years ago, Ruby had insisted on making them a present of a crib and a buggy, for which Fi in particular was immensely grateful. Ruby got the feeling that Saul on the other hand, although he made all the right noises, was a bit uneasy with the gift. It occurred to her that his pride had been dented and that he might feel she was treating them like a charity case.

As far as Ruby was concerned, the gift had been generous but not particularly lavish, since with her business contacts she’d ended up paying even less than the wholesale price. Nevertheless, she was perturbed by Saul’s reaction and mentioned her fears to Fi. Fi was adamant that Ruby should take no notice. “The hunter-gatherer hasn’t had any work for a few months and it’s starting to get to him.”

But Ruby had taken notice. She had a huge soft spot for Saul and she knew how serious he was about proving to Fi’s mother that even a heathen actor could provide for his family. Ruby didn’t want to upset him. When Connor was born she gave Fi a couple of gorgeous baby outfits and left it at that. The pirate costume she’d bought Ben for his birthday had cost fifteen quid from the Early Learning Centre.

T
HIS MORNING
, F
I
opened the door pale and puffy-eyed from lack of sleep. Her long blonde hair, which looked like it hadn’t been brushed or washed for a couple of days, was pulled back into a scrunchy. She was wearing an ancient Juicy Couture tracksuit offset by a sick-encrusted cloth slung over one shoulder. Cradled in her arms was a beatific, slumbering Connor. Ruby gazed at him with his mop of black hair—just like Saul’s—sucking two fingers in his sleep.

“OK, I know he looks positively edible right now,” Fi jumped in without even giving Ruby a chance to say hi, “but don’t be fooled. The little so-and-so has been screaming his head off nearly all night.”

Ruby kissed her friend hello. “God, you look knackered.” Fi led the way down the hall to the kitchen. Ruby asked her if Saul could give her a break this morning so that she could catch up on her sleep. Fi shook her head. “He’s got an audition for a commercial. Don’t worry. I’m fine. I slept back in July.”

“God only knows how my mum’s going to cope,” Ruby said, sitting down at the kitchen table. She couldn’t help noticing that the kitchen was a mess. The surfaces were littered with piles of unwashed plates and pans, plus an assortment of bibs, pacifiers and half-empty feeding bottles. A heap of dirty laundry sat on the floor in front of the washing machine.

“How d’you mean you don’t know how she’s going to cope?” Fi said, flicking the switch on the electric kettle. “Has somebody asked her to look after their baby?”

“Not exactly,” Ruby replied with faux nonchalance, a smile hovering at her lips. “Actually, she’s pregnant.”

“Yeah, right.” Fi gave a half-laugh.

“No, honestly. My mother is having a baby.”

Fi came over to the table and sat down. “C’mon. This is some kind of wind-up.” Connor, who was lying over her shoulder, started to whimper. She began rubbing his back.

“Nope. She’s due in January.”

“But how did she get pregnant?”

“Usual way, I suppose.”

“Duh. I meant how did she manage it at her age, and didn’t you once tell me she had blocked fallopian tubes?”

Ruby explained that one of Ronnie’s tubes might have spontaneously unblocked itself.

“I just can’t get my head round this,” Fi said. “You’re going to have a baby brother or sister. At thirty-two. It’s unbelievable.”

At this point Ben came bursting in. He was wearing Bob the Builder pajamas and the hat and eye patch from the birthday pirate outfit Ruby had given him. He smelled slightly of pee-soaked diaper. Fi clearly hadn’t got round to changing him from the previous night. “My godda baby bruvver,” he piped up. “Him’s called Connor and he does ukky rabbit poos and he makes pukes on me.”

“I know, sweetheart,” Fi said. “But he doesn’t mean it. And you like Connor really, don’t you?”

Ben picked his green plastic pirate sword off the table and began waving it violently in the air, perilously close to Connor’s head. “No,” he announced. “He can stay for eleventeen more days. Ven we have to send him back to his own garden.”

Fi gently removed the sword from her son’s hand and put it down on the table. She gave Ruby a shrug to indicate that she had no idea why Ben assumed that Connor had originated from, or belonged in, a garden. “Probably all tied up with the j-e-a-l-o-u-s-y thing.” Ben was now demanding to have his sword back. “Tell you what, sweetie,” Fi soothed, “why don’t you get up to the table and do some Play-Doh?”

Ben gave a vigorous nod and climbed onto a chair. As he knelt at the table, he began pulling the plastic lids off the tubs of Play-Doh.

“I can really understand how Ben feels about Connor,” Ruby said with a half-laugh.

Fi asked her what she meant. Ruby explained how, when her mother had announced that she was pregnant, she had laughed at any suggestion that she might feel jealous. “Then, last night I dreamed that I went round to my parents’ and they didn’t recognize me. Old as I am, I can’t help feeling I’m about to lose my mum and dad to this new baby and that they’re about to push me out of the nest.”

Fi made the point that Ruby had, in fact, left the nest at eighteen when she went to university.

“I know,” Ruby said. “But when I woke up this morning, the feeling just seemed to overwhelm me. I keep trying to stop it, but I can’t. The other thing I keep thinking is that I’m thirty-two and it’s me who should be getting married, having babies and getting all the attention. Not my fifty-year-old mother. I think I’m a tiny bit jealous of her, too. No. Correction. If I’m honest, I’m a lot jealous. I know she didn’t get pregnant on purpose, but it’s like she’s stepped onto my turf. God, do I sound utterly pathetic and self-centered?”

“Maybe, a bit,” Fi said. “But I’m sure most women in your position would feel the same. The natural order of things is for couples to have children and then at a certain age they become grandparents. They don’t try to compete with their children by having more babies. In your family the natural order has got skewed and you feel you have no place. Not only has it come as a shock, but it’s also pissed you off. Look, you only found out a few hours ago that Ronnie’s pregnant. You have to give yourself time to get used to it.” She patted the back of her friend’s hand. “It will get easier. Honest.”

Ruby nodded. “I know. But the other thing I’m worried about is her health. I don’t know much about it, but I imagine that carrying a baby at fifty can be really risky.”

“Yes, but at her age she’ll have the most senior and experienced doctors looking after her. They’ll be on the lookout for problems and they’ll be monitoring her. They won’t let anything happen to her.”

“But what about the baby? I know Mum’s had the amnio and all the other tests, but suppose there still turns out to be something wrong with it? These tests aren’t infallible, are they?”

“No, they’re not, but with the right care, the overwhelming likelihood is that they’ll both be fine.”

Ruby let out a slow breath. “I just hope you’re right.”

Fi decided to put Connor in his crib. While she went upstairs, Ruby finished making the coffee and chatted to Ben, who had been busy molding Play-Doh.

“So, what are you making, Ben?” Ruby said, opening one of the kitchen cupboards and looking for a plate to put the croissants on. She was out of luck. There wasn’t a clean plate to be had.

“My is doing green eggs and ham.” He held up two green lumps of Play-Doh and another flatter, pink piece. “You like some?”

“I’d love some,” Ruby said, turning on the hot tap and starting to rinse a plate covered in dried-up masala sauce. “You know I used to read
Green Eggs and Ham
when I was little.”

“Dat Sam I Am,” Ben announced gravely, “he’s a bad boy.” He maneuvered himself down from the table, toddled over to Ruby and offered her some green egg to try. Crouching down to his height, she put it up to her mouth and made yum-yum noises. “Those are great eggs, Ben. Brilliant.”

“You give this one to your mummy.” He handed her another egg.

“Oh, thanks, Ben. I know she’ll love it.” Ruby slipped the egg into her trouser pocket.

“Do you have a mummy wiv a zsgusting fat tummy and bloody stretchmarks?” It was clear from Ben’s bright, unperturbed expression that he was simply parroting Fi’s words and had no real idea what he was saying.

Fi appeared just in time to hear what he had said. Her face immediately became filled with panic. “Oh, Gawd, now Ben’s picking up on all my anxieties,” she whispered to Ruby. “I can’t get anything right. Seeing me all pathetic and feeble is going to make him feel even more insecure than he already is.”

“Come on, Fi, he’s fine. He’s just repeating stuff. Stop beating yourself up. You’ll get your figure back. It’s just going to take a bit of time, that’s all.”

At this point Ben announced he wanted his blanket. He jumped down from the table and ran off toward the living room to find it, losing his pirate hat as he went.