“Oh, she’s completely obsessed. So… if she ever rings again, just make an excuse and put the phone down. And whatever she says, even if it sounds quite plausible… don’t believe a word of it. Promise?”
“All right, love,” says Mum, nodding. “Whatever you say.”
As she goes into the kitchen, I hear her saying “Poor woman. You have to feel sorry for them, really. Graham, did you hear that? That lady from America who phoned for Becky. She’s in love with Luke!”
I can’t cope with this anymore.
I need to see Suze.
Thirteen
I’VE AGREED TO meet Suze at Sloane Square for a cup of tea. There’s a crowd of tourists milling around when I arrive, and for a moment I can’t see her. Then the throng disperses — and there she is, sitting by the fountain, her long blond hair haloed by the sun, and the hugest stomach I’ve ever seen.
As I see her, I’m all set to rush up to her, exclaim, “Oh God, Suze, it’s all a nightmare!” and tell her everything.
But then I stop. She looks like an angel, sitting there. A pregnant angel.
Or the Virgin Mary, perhaps. All serene and lovely and perfect.
And suddenly I feel all messed up in comparison. I’d been planning to unburden the entire situation on Suze, like I always do, and wait for her to think of an answer. But now… I just can’t. She looks so calm and happy. It would be like dumping toxic waste in some beautiful clear sea.
“Bex! Hi!” As she sees me she stands up, and I feel a fresh shock at how… well, how big she looks.
“Suze!” I hurry toward her and give her a huge hug. “You look amazing!”
“I’m feeling great!” says Suze. “How are you? How’s the wedding?”
“Oh… I’m fine!” I say after a pause. “It’s all fine. Come on. Let’s go and have some tea.”
I’m not going to tell her. This is it. For once in my life, I’m going to sort out my problems on my own.
We go to Oriel and get a table by the window. When the waiter comes, I order hot chocolate, but Suze produces a tea bag and hands it to the waiter.
“Raspberry leaf tea,” she explains. “It strengthens the uterus. For labor.”
“Right.” I nod. “Labor. Of course!”
I feel a little shiver at the base of my spine and smile quickly to cover it.
Secretly, I’m really not at all convinced about this whole giving birth thing. I mean, look at the size of Suze’s bump. Look at the size of a full-grown baby. And then tell me that’s going to fit through…
I mean, I know the theory. It’s just… to be honest, I can’t see it working.
“When are you due again?” I say, staring at Suze’s stomach.
“Four weeks today!”
“So… it’s going to grow even bigger?”
“Oh yes!” Suze pats her bump fondly. “Quite a bit, I should think.”
“Good,” I say weakly, as a waiter puts a cup of hot chocolate in front of me. “Excellent. So… how’s Tarquin?”
“He’s fine!” says Suze. “He’s up on Craie at the moment. You know, his Scottish island? They’re lambing at the moment, so he thought he’d go and help out. Before the baby comes.”
“Oh right. And you didn’t go with him?”
“Well, it would have been a bit risky.” Suze stirs her raspberry tea thoughtfully. “And the thing is, I’m not quite as interested in sheep as he is. I mean, they are really interesting,” she adds loyally. “But you know, after you’ve seen a thousand of them…”
“But he’ll be back in time, will he?”
“Oh yes. He’s really excited! He’s been to all the classes and everything!”
God, I can’t believe in a few weeks’ time Suze will have a baby. I won’t even be here.
“Can I touch?” I put my hand gingerly on Suze’s stomach. “I can’t feel anything.”
“That’s all right,” says Suze. “I expect it’s asleep.”
“Do you know if it’s a boy or a girl?”
“I haven’t found out.” Suze leans forward earnestly. “But I kind of think it’s a girl, because I keep being drawn to all these sweet little dresses in the shops. Like a kind of a craving? And they say in all the books, your body will tell you what it needs. So, you know, maybe that’s a sign.”
“So, what are you going to call her?”
“We can’t decide. It’s so hard! You know, you buy these books, and all the names are crap…” She takes a sip of tea. “What would you call a baby?”
“Ooh! I don’t know! Maybe Lauren, after Ralph Lauren.” I think for a few moments. “Or Dolce.”
“Dolce Cleath-Stuart,” says Suze thoughtfully. “I quite like that! We could call her Dolly for short.”
“Or Vera. After Vera Wang.”
“Vera?” Suze stares at me. “I’m not calling my baby Vera!”
“We’re not talking about your baby!” I retort. “We’re talking about mine. Vera Lauren Comme des Brandon. I think that’s got a really good ring to it.”
“Vera Brandon sounds like a character off Coronation Street! But I like Dolce. What about if it was a boy?”
“Harvey. Or Barney,” I say after a little thought. “Depending on whether it was born in London or New York.”
I take another sip of hot chocolate — then look up, to see Suze gazing at me seriously.