* * *
‘Oh my gosh oh my gosh oh my gosh oh my gosh.’ Cassie had three different pregnancy tests from the drugstore nearest to the ferry terminal, andfinallythey had a table in a – somewhat downmarket – Mexican restaurant, because she really needed spicy food, and now she was finally going to find out for definite. ‘Here I go.’ She took a deep breath, and stood up, and then sat down again. ‘I don’t think I can do it.’
‘Yes, you can. Or do you mean you haven’t drunk enough? Have a glass of water.’
‘No, I mean I think I might be about to have a nervous breakdown.’
‘Okay. Let’s go. Come on.’ Dina took her jacket off and put it on the back of her chair, moved out from behind the table and took Cassie’s arm and gave it a gentle pull. ‘The restroom’s over there in the corner.’
It was really small. Dina waited, squashed up against the wash basins, while Cassie squeezed herself into one of the two, remarkably small, cubicles.
‘So are you gonna do it?’ Dina said after a while.
‘Just reading the instructions again.’
‘Which one are you doing first?’
‘The expensive one. Dina, I don’t want to hurt your feelings, but Ihateweeing in front of people and these cubicle doors aresmall. Could you maybe wait outside?’
‘Sure. But call me as soon as you’re done peeing because I want to be here for the big reveal.’
‘Okay.’ Bloody hell.
This was a lot worse than when she took her test the first time she’d got pregnant. She’d done the test in the swish en-suite bathroom of the master bedroom in Simon’s swanky Glasgow townhouse. There’d been no need to spread loo paper around the seat of the loo, because it was obviously clean and strangers did not sit on it. It hadn’t smelled vomit-inducingly strongly of urine mixed with grim air freshener. And it hadn’t had a cracked loo roll dispenser or sticky floor tiles that you really didn’t want to touch at all.
Okay. She’d done it. She’d weed for the right length of time. Two minutes to go.
She was out of the cubicle, holding the test flat, carefully not looking at it and calling to Dina still with one minute to go according to the timer on her phone.
Dina hurried back in, looked down and said, ‘Oh my God, oh myGod.Oh my God.’
Cassie looked down too. ‘But it shouldn’t be ready,’ she said.
‘You’re pregnant,’ screamed Dina. ‘Honey, I’m so, so happy for you.’ She flung her arms round Cassie.
‘I’m pregnant. I’m bloody pregnant.’ Cassie knew without a shadow of a doubt that if this worked out, she was keeping it.
She also knew that if it worked out she’d be the luckiest woman in the world. And that James was reallynotgoing to feel the same way.
‘Congratulations. Such wonderful news.’ Dina was kind of running on the spot in excitement.
‘Thank you. I can’t believe it. Oh my goodness.’ To hell with worrying about James. She was going to enjoy this moment. This incrediblemoment. This was actuallysomuch better than when she got her positive test the first time she was pregnant. Yes, this loo wasscummy, but Dina was here and she was happy for her and she was a great friend and she’d be a great support, whereas Simon had been spectacularly unimpressed by the news.
Yep, she wasn’t going to tell James yet. She didn’t need to talk to an unenthusiastic father-to-be in the near future, even if he was the one person in the world she couldn’t stop thinking about, and who she so often wanted to talk to so badly. Now, she was going to let herself be absolutely bloodyecstatic.
‘I’m having ababy,’ she squealed.
And then she joined in with Dina’s jumping and speed running on the spot until it made her feel sick.
Twenty-Seven
James
Christmas Day. Ella’s sitting room. An enormous tree covered in silver baubles and tinsel. A roaring log fire. Ella and Patrick, Daisy and Lottie, Patrick’s parents and his brother and his wife and kids. It was one of those happy family scenes that James had never imagined himself in. He’d even less imagined himself enjoying such a scene. But hewasenjoying himself, hugely. He adjusted his paper hat and turned to look at Daisy.
‘Uncle James?’ she said. ‘I said how many bones are there in a giraffe’s neck?’
‘This is your fault.’ Ella pointed at James as she hauled herself off the sofa. ‘A giraffe obsession was the natural next step from the alpaca one. You deal with cervical vertebrae questions. I’m going to get mince pies.’
