Annabelle gazed at her, as though from a vast distance.
‘Oh, I suppose I’m using the wrong language now, am I? Well, you can’t put a foot right.’
Jake shot Kate a look but she pretended she hadn’t seen him. She knew he would tell her later that his parents were products of a different age, that it was all to do with context and that although he personally didn’t support their casual racism, you couldn’t hope to teach them new habits. Kate disagreed and felt an obligation to point out discriminatory attitudes. It was one of their long-running arguments and it would probably never be resolved. After all, Kate thought indignantly, Jake had only stopped voting Tory when he met her.
At the table, there was an awkward silence which Chris broke by ordering a bottle of Picpoul.
The meal revived itself after that. Kate bit her tongue as Annabelle veered into the topic of Brexit, claiming she had met the most wonderful ‘immigrant cleaner’ at her friend Trisha’s house the other day who had ‘quite convinced me it’s the wrong thing for this country to leave the EU. Hard-working people like her deserve a chance, I say. She’s not claiming benefits, despite what Farage and his ilk would have you believe …’
Jake kept topping up his mother’s glass so that she became gradually softer and more tipsy as the lunch went on. By the time the pudding arrived, Annabelle had been successfully disarmed and was starting toask Kate what films she’d recommend seeing at the cinema (this was always Annabelle’s way of breaking the ice, as if she knew a single fact about her son’s girlfriend’s work and clearly intended to deploy it frequently to show how much she cared).
‘We actually had something to tell you guys,’ Jake said, resting his spoon and fork on either side of a warm chocolate soufflé.
Annabelle, who had her glass of wine halfway to her mouth, placed it back on the table.
‘Oh, I was hoping you might!’ she said, and she winked at Chris and mouthed, ‘Told you so,’ across the table to him.
It dawned on Kate that Annabelle thought they were going to announce their engagement.
‘We’re not getting married,’ she blurted out. There was a stunned pause. Annabelle drew her pashmina closer to her, looking wounded.
‘All right,’ she said. ‘What is it then?’
‘Sorry,’ Kate added, a few seconds too late. ‘I just …’ She had no idea how Annabelle managed to make her feel so on edge all the time.
‘We’re not getting married,’ Jake said levelly. ‘But we do have exciting news. At least, we think it’s exciting.’
‘You’re pregnant!’ Annabelle shrieked. ‘Oh Kate, how absolutely wonderful, I know how much this means to you and I’ve been praying –praying– every night for this.’
She put her arm around Kate’s shoulders and pulled her into a hug. When Kate extracted herself she was astonished to see there were tears in Annabelle’s eyes.
‘Annabelle,’ Kate said. ‘That’s so lovely of you.’
‘I just know how wonderful it is to be a mother, and I want that for you so much.’
This sincerity was so unexpected that Kate felt herself on the brink of crying. All the stress of the last few years, and the more recent tension of having Marisa in the house with them, churned up inside her and she had to press her fingernails into the palm of her hand to stop it from spilling out.
‘I’m afraid I’m not pregnant,’ she managed to say. ‘But I – we – are hoping to be parents.’
‘Aha,’ Chris said, and then relapsed into silence.
The waiter came then, at just the wrong moment, to ask if they wanted teas or coffees. Jake asked him to give them a minute and the waiter stalked off, offended.
‘I don’t understand,’ Annabelle said.
‘The thing is, Mum,’ Jake started out shakily. ‘As you know, we’ve been trying, and nothing has worked – to put it bluntly. It’s been a terrible strain on Kate, who has been a trooper …’
He caught her eye and she gave a minute shake of the head. She did not want him to go into how it had been for her.
‘But, on medical advice,’ Jake continued, getting the message, ‘we’ve decided to explore a new option, which is surrogacy.’
‘Surrogacy?’ Annabelle said, as if trying out a new foreign word for the first time.
‘Yes, it’s where another woman carries our baby—’
‘I know that.’
‘And, extremely fortunately, we’ve found a surrogate!’ His tone was breezy now, trying hard for nonchalance and not quite achieving it. ‘Her name is Marisa. She’s very generously agreed to help us and we can’t quite believe our luck, but there we have it.’
