Willow shook her head. ‘No need. What I’m saying is that we were being careful … you know … taking precautions, and yet somehow I ended up pregnant. I’m seventeen weeks now and I can even feel the baby moving inside me, a sort of weird fluttering sensation. I have a blurry scan photo of the baby too, but … but it still doesn’t feel real.’
‘Seventeen weeks,’ repeated Mum. ‘You don’t look it.’
‘Maybe that’s why it still doesn’t feel real for you?’ suggested Martha.
‘Could be,’ Willow said vaguely.
‘Well, however it happened,’ said Mum, ‘it’s where you are now, and you have plenty of time to come to terms with being a mother. I must say, Rick seems very happy about it.’
‘He is. Ridiculously so.’ Willow looked at Martha. ‘I’m sorry the way you heard about me being pregnant from Rick. I genuinely had asked him not to tell anyone. I suppose he was just bursting to tell somebody the news. Were you very upset?’
‘Yes,’ said Martha after she’d taken a small sip of her wine.
‘I’m sorry. That was exactly what I was trying to avoid. Why didn’t you tell me that you knew?’
‘Rick asked me not give him away.’
‘I wish you’d ignored him. I hate the idea that you felt the need to keep something from me.’
‘Said the pot to the kettle!’
Willow laughed. ‘Bang to rights. But you know why I didn’t say anything, I was thinking of you.’
‘Which was very thoughtful of you,’ said Mum, ‘but now you need to think more about yourself; you too, Martha. This is a special time for the pair of you, and my advice is to make the most of it, as you’ll never experience a first pregnancy again. Whatever help and support you’re offered, take it. Including from me,’ she added with a smile.
Staring into her wineglass, then taking a long sip, Willow tried to take some comfort from her mother’s words. She so badly wanted to, but she couldn’t. She felt such a fraud sitting here being congratulated for something she hadn’t planned or wanted. Did that make her a bad person? She supposed it did. It was so different for her sister. A baby had always been a part of Martha and Tom’s plan.
‘So Mum,’ said Martha, ‘now that you know you’re going to be a grandmother twice over, what do you want to be known as?’
Willow smiled to herself. How typical of Martha to be thinking that far ahead.
‘I refuse to be called Nanna,’ Mum said with a laugh. ‘I always think that makes one sound decidedly ancient.’
‘What about Mims?’ offered Martha.
‘Or Glam-ma?’ suggested Willow. ‘Would that make you feel less ancient? Or better still, what about Glammy? And then there’s Ellis to consider.’
‘What about Ellis?’ Martha said sharply.
‘Well, if he’s going to be … erm … a permanent fixture, he’ll also need a name.’ Seeing the frown of disapproval on her sister’s face, and knowing that she’d caused it, Willow appealed to their mother. ‘Won’t he, Mum?’
‘I don’t think we need to worry about that just yet, do we?’ responded Mum after the briefest of pauses.
‘I disagree,’ said Martha. ‘I think Ellis should be discussed.’
‘You make him sound like a problem that requires fixing,’ said Mum, slowly turning her wineglass round in her hands.
‘At the very least I think we need to know where we stand with him. Isn’t that a reasonable request?’
Wishing she hadn’t mentioned Ellis, Willow took another sip of her wine and listened to a blackbird singing from a branch in the lilac tree. The sweetness of its song was so much nicer than the questioning tone of her sister’s voice.
‘It’s perfectly reasonable, Martha,’ said Mum. ‘And actually, Ellis and I planned to share our own news with you this evening. You see, he’s asked me to marry him and—’
‘Tell me you haven’t said yes,’ Martha interrupted abruptly.
‘That’s exactly what I said.’
‘But you can’t! How could you even contemplate marriage? What would Dad think?’
