‘Even if it’s a girl?’
‘It’s an equal-opportunities pregnancy.’
‘Boom boom,’ finished Cassie.
The quip hung limply in the air, neither of them having the energy to snigger.
‘How’s the chest of drawers?’
‘Still yellow.’
‘Bit like me.’
‘Cassie, why are you staying in that job and putting up with all this shit? It can’t be the only one around.’
‘If I leave now, it’ll be just another thing I haven’t stuck with. I know it sounds stupid but if I can stick this out .?.?. I can stick anything out. It feels like a .?.?. test.’
‘Really? You sure you’re not making excuses to avoid confronting Cruella de Vil?’
‘Of course I’m making excuses, she’s incredibly intimidating, but if I don’t stand my ground now, I’ll always be trying to dodge the hard stuff. She’s important in a way I can’t describe.’
Josie shifted uncomfortably and took a sip of Appletiser, her latest go-to obsession.
‘I’m not disputing it, but you seem to be giving her a lot of power.’
Cassie shrugged. Josie continued, ‘Don’t let her bully you. Remember she only has power in that schoolroom – outside of it, she’s nothing.’
But that wasn’t totally true; like it or not, it felt like her life and Marisha’s were tangled up together like two old pairs of tights in a washing machine.
‘And what about Finn? When are we going to get to meet him?’
‘Yes, well, it’s a bit complicated. Josie, what does he sound like to you, really?’
‘Nice, sensitive .?.?. a bit avoidant. But then, some of the nicest people in the world are avoidant. Just make sure it’s not about the things that matter most to you.’
‘You’re right, Jos,’ Cassie said, though what she could do about it wasn’t clear.
The Zoom call moved on, and Josie turned sideways to show her the bump and wail about the silver stretch marks that no amount of slathering on of Bio-Oil would magic away.
‘It’s like someone else has taken over my body .?.?. it’s out of control. But it’s kind of thrilling at the same time. Pal has started this ritual he calls “bump watch” every evening, when it wakes up and starts to kick off. He says he’s going to buy a tiny Arsenal strip so it can get started right away. He’s jumped straight to the “footie in the park” stage. I mean, forget all about pushing the baby out and the screaming and the nappies and the puke and poo.’
Cassie burst out laughing at the thought of goofy Pal transforming into a doting dad, but there was something truly miraculous about the change in her friend’s body.
‘It actually suits you. It looks totally natural, even though I could never have imagined it. Remember back when we shared the flat, we used to imagine what each of us would look like pregnant and stuff pillows under our jumpers, laughing ourselves silly about it .?.?.’ She couldn’t help the rueful tone creeping into her voice. A little V of concern appeared between Josie’s eyes.
‘It’s still not too late, Cass. You’re only thirty-seven. If you really want to do it, don’t wait, for God’s sake.’
‘Have you and Mam been talking?’
The last thing she wanted was to steal the joy from Josie’s special time. She daren’t mention the emptiness she was feeling behind the shared delight, like gazing down a lift shaft when the doors open by mistake. An emptiness that feels all wrong because it’s where something else ought to be. She wasn’t going to mention that. It just wouldn’t be fair.
* * *
The next morning at 7 a.m. Cassie opened her eyes and allowed the fragments of her thoughts to fall into place. She thought of the conversation with Josie the previous evening, her pregnancy bump and the words, ‘Don’t leave it too late.’ She’d given up hope of having a baby after the split with Gav, accepted that that boat had sailed and there was nothing more to be done. But maybe that wasn’t true, maybe she’d more options than she’d once believed. A thin shaft of hope lit up the back of her mind like the sun on winter solstice .?.?. Crikey, the big numbers on her digital clock now blinked 7.17 a.m., so she’d better get cracking. In the bathroom, lined with dark-green veined marble tiles, she dropped her oversized T-shirt on the floor, turned sideways, and for one private moment allowed herself to imagine what she’d look like with a bump. A stab of pain in her chest made her gasp and rub the spot with the heel of her hand. No time for that now. She swiped the thought away and stepped into the steaming luxury of the rain shower.
Marisha would be holding her wretched auditions today. That promised to be a pain in the arse. It felt so unfair and bloody frustrating, considering the whole thing had been her idea. She remembered something that Da, who loved nothing better than a good cliché, had said to her: ‘Sometimes you’re hot, sometimes you’re not. It’s a long road that has no turning.’ Well, Da, right now that’s exactly where she felt: on a straight road to nowhere.
She made a pot of strong coffee and treated herself to a bowl of high-fruit muesli with a banana, on Babs and Denise’s advice. They’d learned a thing or two about making it through to lunchtime. Just then her phone buzzed – it was a text from Finn.
