street with her children. She looks pretty frazzled — in fact, she seems to be yelling at one of them. In her hands are four Mars Bars, which she’s doling out. She’s holding a couple of cans of Coke too, and under her arm is a jumbo packet of chips.
“No.” Suze appears almost too staggered to speak. “No. Are those—”
“Mars Bars.” I nod. “And Cheesy Wotsits.”
“And Coke!” Suze gives a gurgle of laughter and claps a hand over her mouth. “Bex, that has made my day. How on earth…”
“Don’t ask.” I can’t help giggling too.
“What a hypocritical…cow!” Suze is still peering at the picture in disbelief. “You know, she really got to me. I used to feel so inferior.”
“I think you should go on her TV show after all,” I say. “You could take that photo with you. Show the producer.”
“Bex!” Suze giggles. “You’re evil! I’m just going to keep it in a drawer and look at it when I need cheering up.”
The phone suddenly shrills through the kitchen and my smile tightens. What if this is the press again? What if it’s Luke with more news?
“Hey, Suze,” I say casually. “Why don’t you go and make sure everyone’s OK? I’ll be out in a minute.”
“Sure.” Suze nods, and picks up her juice, her eyes still fixed on the photo. “I’ll just put this somewhere safe….”
I wait until she’s gone and the door is firmly closed, then steel myself and pick up the phone. “Hello?”
“Hi, Becky.” The familiar drifty voice comes down the line. “It’s Fabia.”
“Fabia!” I subside in relief. “How are you? Thanks so much for letting us use the house the other day. The Vogue people thought it was amazing! Did you get my flowers?”
“Oh, wonderful,” Fabia says vaguely. “Yeah, we got the flowers. Listen, Becky, we’ve just heard you can’t pay cash for the house.”
Luke must have called the agent and told him. News travels fast. “That’s right.” I nod, trying to stay upbeat. “There’s been a slight change in our circumstances, but it should only delay us by a couple of weeks….”
“Yeah…” Fabia sounds distracted. “The thing is, we’ve decided to exchange with the other buyers.”
For a moment I think I’ve hallucinated. “Other buyers?”
“Did we not mention the other buyers? The Americans. They made the same offer as you. Before you, in fact, so strictly speaking…” She trails off.
“But…but you took our offer! You said the house was ours.”
“Yeah, well. The other buyers can move faster, so…”
I’m light-headed with shock. We’ve been screwed.
“Were you just stringing us along the whole time?” I’m trying to keep control of myself.
“It wasn’t my idea.” Fabia sounds regretful. “It was my husband. He likes to have a fallback position. Anyway, good luck with the house hunt….”
No. She can’t really be doing this. She can’t be leaving us in the lurch.
“Fabia, listen.” I wipe my clammy face. “Please. We’re having a baby any day. We don’t have anywhere to go. Our flat is sold—”
“Mmm…yeah. I hope it all goes well. Bye, Becky….”
“But what about the Archie Swann boots?” I’m almost crying in anger. “We did a deal! You owe me a boot!” I realize I’m talking into silence. She’s rung off. She doesn’t care.
I switch the phone off. Slowly I walk over to the fridge and lean my head against the cool steel, feeling dizzy. We don’t have our dream house anymore. We don’t have any house anymore.
I lift the phone to call Luke, then stop. He’s got enough on his plate as it is right now.
In a few weeks we have to move out of our flat. Where are we going to go?
“Becky?” Kelly bursts into the kitchen, giggling. “We’ve put candles on your cake. I know it’s not your birthday, but you should blow them out anyway.”
“Yes!” I jolt into life. “I’m coming!”
Somehow I manage to hold myself together as I follow Kelly back to the sitting room. Inside, Danny and Janice are playing guess the baby food and writing down their answers on sheets. Mum and Jess are perusing pictures of celebrity babies.
“It’s Lourdes!” Mum is saying. “Jess, love, you should be more aware of the world.”
“Pureed beet,” says Danny knowledgeably as he tastes a spoonful of purple goo. “All it needs is a shot of vodka.”
“Becky!” Mum looks up. “Everything all right, love? You keep running off to answer the phone!”
“Yes, Bex, what’s up?” Suze’s brow wrinkles.
“It’s…”
I wipe my damp upper lip, trying to keep steady. I don’t even know where I’d start.
Luke’s fighting to save his company. He’s hemorrhaging money. We’ve lost the house.
I can’t tell them. I can’t spoil the party — everyone’s having such a good time.
I’ll tell them later. Tomorrow.
“Everything’s fine!” I force my brightest, best, happiest smile. “Couldn’t be better!” And I blow out my candles.
At last the tea and champagne are all drunk and all the guests gradually leave. It was such a great baby shower. And everyone got on so well! Janice and Jess made up in the end, and Jess promised she’d look after Tom in Chile and not let any guerrilla bandits get him. Suze and Kelly had a long conversation while they played guess the baby food, ending up with Suze offering Kelly a job as au pair during her year off. But the really amazing thing is, Jess and Danny have hit it off! Danny started talking to her about some new collection he wants to do using shards of rocks — and she’s going to take him to a museum to see some specimens.
The bike arrived while everyone was eating cake, and the package went off OK. I haven’t heard back from Luke, though. I guess he’s in talks with his lawyers or whoever it is. So he doesn’t know about the house yet, either.
“Are you all right, Becky?” says Mum, giving me a hug at the front door. “Would you like me to stay with you till Luke arrives home?”
“No, it’s OK. Don’t worry.”
“Well, have a nice afternoon rest. Save your energy, love.”
“I will.” I nod. “Bye, Mum.”
The place feels silent and flat with everyone gone. It’s just me and all the stuff. I wander into the nursery, gently touching the handcrafted crib and the little white rocking cradle. And the Moses basket with its gorgeous linen canopy. (I wanted to give the baby a choice of sleeping accommodations.)
It’s like a stage set. We’re just waiting for the lead character to appear.
I prod my tummy, wondering if it’s awake. Maybe I’ll play it a tune and it can be a musical genius when it’s born! I wind up the mobile I ordered from the Intelligent Baby catalog and press it against my tummy.
Baby, listen to that! That’s Mozart.
I think…. Or Beethoven or someone.
God, now I’ve confused it. I’m just looking on the box to see if the tune is by Mozart, when there’s a small crash from the hall.
Christmas cards. That’ll make me feel better. Abandoning the Intelligent Baby mobile, I head to the front door, pick up the huge pile of post lying on the doormat, and waddle back to the sofa, leafing through the envelopes.
And then I stop. There’s a small package, labeled in distinctive, flowing writing.
Venetia’s.
It’s addressed to Luke, but I don’t care. With trembling hands I rip it open, to find a tiny leather Duchamp box. I wrench it open, and there’s a pair of silver and enamel cuff links. What is she doing sending him cuff links?
