As Kate rushes to the bathroom, she’s riddled with guilt that she’s allowed Jess’s appearance to monopolize her thoughts. But in the split second that follows, she acknowledges that it’s almost a relief to have something else to worry about. For three years, every waking moment has been filled with the anticipation, excitement and the ultimate disappointment that descends on her when she finds out she’s not pregnant. It’s been a never-ending cycle of hope and despair, and these two weeks, after the embryo transfer and before the pregnancy test, is always the worst. She suspects that it’s because she has nothing to do except wait, which after months of injections, appointments and scans, feels interminable.
She lets out an audible ‘Oh,’ when she realizes that nothing appears to be wrong, and calls Matt from the cubicle, suddenly desperate to hear his voice.
‘Hey, you okay?’ he asks nervously when he picks up the phone. Maybe he knows what day it is too.
‘Yeah, just tired,’ says Kate.
Matt lets out a deep breath. ‘That’s a good thing, no?’
‘I guess,’ she says. ‘Unless you’re me. How’s your day going?’
‘Well, so far I’ve interviewed five applicants for a job I know they’re not going to get within a minute of shaking their hands.’
‘That bad, eh?’ sighs Kate.
‘Honestly, I can’t tell you,’ says Matt, laughing. ‘They may well have all the right qualifications on paper, but put them in front of a human being and they can barely make eye contact.’
‘That’s because they’re much more at ease engaging with a computer screen or mobile phone,’ she says. ‘They can’t communicate in normal social situations. This is the way it’s going to be from now on.’
‘And yet this is the world we’re preparing to bring a baby into.’
Kate can’t tell him that the same thought kept her awake sometimes, wondering whether they were doing the right thing.
‘How many more interviews have you got this afternoon?’ she asks.
‘Thankfully only three more. I’d like to at least feel today hasn’t been a complete waste by the time I leave the office, but I’m not holding out much hope.’
‘Well, good luck.’
‘Thanks – I’m going to need it. How are you feeling about what happened yesterday? You spoken to Lauren or your mum yet?’
‘I spoke to Lauren earlier – she’s gone to see Mum this morning. The more I think about it, the more ridiculous it is. I mean, my dad would have never . . . He just wouldn’t.’
‘And what’s Lauren’s take on it?’ asks Matt. ‘Does she share your confidence?’
‘You know Lauren,’ says Kate wearily. ‘Her and Dad never really saw eye to eye, so I’m sure she’s more than happy to pick this up and run with it for as long as she can. But it’s honestly the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. I cannot even tell you.’
‘You don’t have to,’ says Matt. ‘I knew your father . . .’
‘Exactly,’ says Kate, grateful that she doesn’t have to justify herself any further.
‘I’ll make dinner,’ says Matt, changing the subject. ‘Something light.’
‘That’ll be great,’ she says. ‘Love you.’
‘Love you too.’
If she leant her head on the tiled wall for just a few minutes, she’s sure she could fall asleep.
‘Kate! Are you in here?’ calls out Daisy, the new intern on the entertainment desk.
She must have dropped off, as she jumps up with a jolt, the blood rush to her head making her feel dizzy.
‘Er, yep, I’ll be out in a sec.’
‘No rush – there’s just somebody downstairs for you.’
‘On my way.’
A few minutes later, Kate takes a deep breath as the lift doors open onto the lobby.
The only problem with having her byline on showbiz stories in the paper is that would-be hacks turn up to hawk their tales about the first wife of a lead singer of a seventies rock group who’s now residing in their village. It also wasn’t unusual for a man to arrive in reception claiming to be the ghost of Elvis Presley. Kate tended to pass those ones on to the science team, under the guise of being a supernatural feature.
Chloe on the front desk nods her head towards a woman who is standing with her back to them, watching the bank of TV screens that showcase the channels the media conglomerate also owns. Kate’s relieved to see that she’s dressed sensibly – the first sign that she can’t be too eccentric – and hopes that whatever she has to say won’t take up too much time.
‘Hi,’ she says as cheerily as she can manage. ‘I’m Kate Walker, how can I help you?’
As the woman turns around, Kate feels winded and sways in an effort to keep herself upright.
‘Hi,’ says Jess, holding out her hand.
Panicked, Kate looks to Chloe, and is relieved to see that she’s too busy answering a call to notice the heat that is sure to be radiating from her glowing cheeks.
‘You?’ she hisses. ‘What the hell are you doing here?’
Jess, who Kate can now see is a little older than she first thought, cocks her head to one side and smiles sweetly. There’s an air of professionalism to her that she didn’t have yesterday. In her ripped jeans and T-shirt, she’d looked like a student from a reputable university. Today, dressed in a smart black trouser suit, with a crisp white blouse underneath, she looks a good few years older, and as if she means business.
‘I wonder if I might have a word.’
‘I thought we made ourselves quite clear yesterday. Whatever information you think you have is wrong. You have nothing to do with us – you are not our family.’
‘I’m not here to cause any trouble,’ says Jess.
‘So, what do you want?’ asks Kate, before holding her breath for the answer.
‘I just wanted to say sorry. I should never have
