Nadia Knows Best (24 page)

More silence. Then…

“Go away.”

“
What?
” Nadia stared at the door in disbelief, terror instantly replaced by boiling rage.

“Leave me alone.”

“You bloody selfish little
cow
,” Nadia roared, hammering on the door with both fists. “Where the
fuck
have you been? You were supposed to pick me up from work, you missed Tilly's show, and you couldn't even be bothered to fucking
phone
me! You're unbelievable, you know that? You just don't care about anyone else. I don't know how you can live with yourself—and you'd better open the bloody door this minute, because I'm not going anywhere until you do.”

More silence. At last, Clare said slowly, “Who else is out there?”

“No one. I'm on my own.” And oh so ready to teach you a lesson you'll never forget.

Moments later the key turned in the lock and the door swung open. About to reach out and grab a handful of hair, Nadia was stopped in her tracks by the pitiful sight before her. She'd never seen Clare looking so awful, puffy-eyed, pinch-faced, and… well, a complete mess.

“Don't tell me, this is about Piers. It just has to be,” Nadia sneered.

Clare stumbled past her out of the bathroom, heading back to the sanctuary of her room. On a roll now, Nadia followed close behind before another door could slam shut between them.

“He's dumped you, hasn't he? You've never been dumped before and you can't handle it.” Her voice was accusing and tinged with satisfaction. Now, at last, Clare knew how it felt. “You spoilt, self-centered bitch, you could still have phoned me. Piers is just a waste of space, he's not important! Tilly's your own
sister
. You said you'd pick me up at five o'clock. You promised
faithfully
not to miss the show…” The words were tumbling out faster and faster now, turbo-charged by rage and Clare's breathtaking selfishness. “You know what? I'm glad he's dumped you! It serves you right! You
deserve
to be miserable—”

“Shut up!” screamed Clare, hurling something small at her. It bounced painlessly off Nadia's chest and dropped to the floor.

Nadia peered down at it. “What's that?”

She said it, although she already knew.

“What d'you bloody think it is? I'm pregnant.” Clare buried her face in her hands and collapsed on the bed.

Oh fuck.

Bending, Nadia retrieved the white plastic stick thing. One blue line. Two blue lines. She'd never actually seen one before in real life, only on TV. Turning it over in her hand she realized that it was wet, and quickly put it down on the bedside table.

“Don't worry, I did wash it,” Clare muttered. “It's not catching.”

Nadia felt as if all the breath had been knocked out of her. Taking the anger with it.

“Does Piers know?”

“Of course he bloody knows.” Clare snatched a handful of tissues from the box next to the pregnancy stick. Fresh tears began to roll down her cheeks. “Why else would I be looking like this?”

“He's not happy.” Nadia sank down on the bed next to her.

“He went berserk. He doesn't even think it's his.” Roughly wiping her swollen eyes, Clare said helplessly, “He thinks I've been sleeping around, but I haven't. He also thinks I did it on purpose, to trap him. But I
didn't
.”

“How long have you known?”

Blearily Clare peered at her Wallace and Gromit alarm clock. “Seven hours? God, I can't believe this is happening. At lunchtime today, I was actually happy. Working away.” She gestured wildly at the canvas propped on her easel. “Tom rang from the gallery to tell me he'd sold another painting. The bloke's a collector and he seemed really interested in my stuff, asking Tom loads of questions about me. So Tom said he could arrange a meeting if he liked. Fix up a date for next week or something. That was how it happened. When I was flicking through my diary, I realized my period was a couple of days late. Only two days, but I'm never late. I told myself it didn't mean anything, but after that I couldn't concentrate. In the end I thought I'd pop to the pharmacy and pick up a testing kit, just to put my mind at rest.” Clare paused, then shrugged and said brokenly, “Except it didn't.”

“God.” Nadia picked up the testing stick again and examined it. She couldn't imagine how Clare must have felt, first finding out she was pregnant, then having to relay the news to someone as loathsome as Piers. All in one afternoon.

“I'm sorry, I'm really sorry about not picking you up or getting to Tilly's school thing. And I know I should have phoned you. But I just couldn't.” Clare began to tremble. “I rang Piers at work, but he wasn't there. They said he'd taken the afternoon off, so I went round to his flat but he wasn't at home either. So then I drove round all the bars in Clifton until I found him.”

“With a girl,” guessed Nadia.

“No. With his horrible friend Eddie. Well, there were girls there,” Clare amended. “But they weren't
with
them. Just chatting at the bar. Piers is a good-looking bloke,” she went on defensively. “Wherever he goes, he'll always get chatted up.”

Nadia couldn't believe Clare was still defending him. She hadn't mentioned the conversation she'd overheard at the wedding. But all she did was nod. “OK. Go on.”

“I told Piers I had to talk to him. He didn't want to leave the bar. I wanted us to go back to his flat, but he wouldn't. In the end I managed to get him to come and sit in my car. And that's where I told him.” Clare took a deep, shuddering breath. “Oh God, it was a nightmare. He went berserk. He called me a tramp and a liar and… all sorts of vile names. He said he never wanted to see me again. I couldn't believe it, I just couldn't believe he was saying all these terrible things. He tried to write me out a check for an abortion and when I ripped it up he called me a stupid little tart. Then just as I was getting really hysterical, a traffic warden came along and started banging on the window. He said I was parked on double yellows and I had to move my car. So that was it. Piers jumped out, told the traffic warden I was a raving nympho, and legged it back into the pub.”

“He's a tosser.” Nadia shook her head. “A complete and utter tosser.”

“I know. But it might have been the shock. Maybe when he's had a chance to think about it, he'll change his mind. I mean, it must have been a terrible shock,” Clare pleaded, “coming out of the blue like that. He might wake up tomorrow morning feeling completely—”

“Like a tosser,” Nadia said firmly. “Because that's all he is, and you know it. Let's face it, he isn't going to change his mind.”

“Oh God.” Clare started crying again, hopelessly and noisily. “What am I going to do? I don't know what to
doooo
. I don't want this to be
happening
to me… I just want it to GO AWAY.”

Nadia put her arms round Clare, who clung to her, sobbing and shivering and dripping hot tears down her front.

“Sshh, come on, it'll be OK,” murmured Nadia. When had she last done this, comforted her distraught sister? She honestly couldn't remember; Clare had never been the in-need-of-comforting type. Apart from the time her pet frog, Eric, had died when she was eleven—accidentally mowed to death by Miriam—she never cried either.

“How can it be OK?” Clare sniffed and wiped her nose on the front of Nadia's dress. “I'm pregnant and my boyfriend's dumped me. It can't get any worse than this.”

Nadia manfully ignored the mark on her favorite red dress. What with all the tears, she looked as if she'd been out in the rain anyway.

“Look, we'll sort this out. If you don't want to have this baby, you don't have to.” Despite squirming inwardly as she said it, Nadia forced herself to sound matter-of-fact. Surely in these circumstances it was the only sensible thing to do.

“Get rid of it, you mean? Have an abortion?” Dully, Clare shook her head. “No.”

No?

Astounded, Nadia said, “You want to have the baby?”

Clare was running her fingers through her tangled hair, over and over again.

“Of course I don't want to. I'm twenty-three, for crying out loud. But I couldn't get rid of it, I just can't do that.” She sniffed again. “Like mother, like daughter. Leonie had kids she didn't want. Now I'm about to do it too. Maybe it's genetic.”

***

Piers opened the door and said coldly, “What do you want?”

“To talk.”

He rolled his eyes. “Sounds boring. Do we have to?”

Clare knew he wasn't about to change his mind. If a tiny part of her had hoped he would pull her into his arms and say passionately, “I was such a git yesterday, I'm so sorry,” the moment she saw that eye-roll she realized it was never going to happen.

Luckily, most of her hadn't expected it to.

Clenching her fists, she dug her nails deliberately into her palms in order to stay calm. Nadia had been right, Piers was a tosser.

“It may be boring, but we still need to talk. I'm going to have this baby and you're going to pay for it.”

This time Piers raised an eyebrow in laconic James Bond fashion. Except James Bond would never be such a git.

“Sure about that? Shouldn't we wait for the results of the DNA tests first?”

She wasn't going to cry. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

“It's yours,” Clare said steadily. “I haven't slept with anyone else.”

“Look, you've had your fun. We both know you aren't going to keep this kid. You want money for a trip to the clinic? Fine, I told you yesterday, I'll pay for it. Wait here and I'll get my checkbook.”

Realizing that he was about to shut the door in her face, Clare stuck her foot in the way.

“Can I come in?”

“Can you come in?” drawled Piers, mimicking her. “I don't think so, do you?”

God, he was loathsome. How had she never realized it before?

In fact Piers was turning out to be surprisingly easy to hate.

“Why not? Got another girl up there?”

“Maybe. Maybe not.” Piers smirked unpleasantly. “Either way, it's not actually any of your business.”

Since she'd been waiting in the car for him to arrive home from work and had watched him enter the flat alone, it was highly unlikely there was anyone else inside.

“You know what?” said Clare. “I feel sorry for you. You're actually quite pathetic.”

“Now I'm really starting to get bored.” Piers pretended to yawn, in that laid-back, upper-class way of his, then glanced at his watch. “Look, why don't I just get you that check? Will a grand cover it?”

Clare said nothing. She was gazing into his eyes, those beautiful navy-blue eyes she'd always loved so much.

All she wanted to do now was gouge them out with a sharp stick.

“Give me two minutes,” said Piers, and this time Clare moved her foot away from the door, allowing him to close it. She turned and made her way down the steps.

Laurie buzzed down the car window and called out, “Is that it?”

“He's gone to get his checkbook.” Clare was tempted by the thought of the thousand pounds but concerned that taking it might prejudice any future claim for child support.

“Are you OK?”

Clare nodded. Much to her own amazement, she actually was OK. She leaned against the side of the car and said, “Can I have some of that?”

Laurie passed her his can of soda and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. “You did well. I thought we were in for another shouting match. You aren't even crying.”

The moment he said it, she felt a lump expand like cotton wool in her throat.

“I'm probably in shock. You know, this was never how I pictured it. I thought I'd carry on painting and partying and having fun. Then, about ten years from now, I'd meet someone amazing and get married. And we'd really love each other, you know?” Clare paused, blinking back tears. “Then one day when I was about thirty-five or something, I'd wait for my husband to come home from work and say, ‘You'll never guess what?' And then I'd tell him I was pregnant and he'd be so
happy
, because a baby was what we both wanted more than anything else in the world.” She heaved a wobbly sigh. “Oh well, serves me right for watching too many old Doris Day movies when I was bunking off school. But I really thought that was the way it would happen. God knows, it was never supposed to turn out like this.”

“You and Piers. Nadia and me. Look at the mess I made of that,” said Laurie. “Nothing ever goes according to plan.” He retrieved his can of soda and nodded at Piers's house. “Here he comes.”

Clare turned, wiping her hands on her jeans, as Piers sauntered down the step holding the check. He paused on the pavement and surveyed Laurie before returning his attention to Clare.

“Who's he? New boyfriend?”

“No. This is Laurie, Nadia's friend. He drove me here.”

Casting his eye over Edward Welch's gray Volvo station wagon, Piers drawled, “Nice car.”

Clare thought longingly about pouring paint stripper over Piers's nice car.

“Here you go, then.” He held out the check. “I wish I could say you were worth it, but frankly I've had better.”

Snatching the can of soda back from Laurie, Clare tossed the fizzing contents in Piers's face. He regarded her with derision. “How original. About as original as you were in bed.”

“You wanker,” said Laurie furiously.

“Oh dear. Struck a nerve, have I? Don't tell me you're shagging her too.” Amused, Piers glanced at Clare. “Is that what you've been doing? Shagging your sister's ex behind her back? Maybe he's the one who should be writing out the check.”

Clare had never seen anyone move so fast. Before she even had a chance to blink, Laurie was out of the car.
Crrrackk
went Piers's nose as in a blur of movement Laurie's fist made contact with his face. Letting out a roar of pain, Piers staggered backward, lost his balance, and landed in an awkward heap on the pavement.