‘Kate,’ Marisa says as she pulls back from the hug. ‘I’m so, so sorry. Can you ever forgive me?’
‘Of course,’ Kate replies, remembering the time that Annabelle asked her the very same question at her birthday lunch at The Wolseley. How curious that they should use exactly the same phrase. ‘It’s fine, Marisa. As long as you and the baby are safe.’
‘We are,’ Marisa says, still smiling but she can’t seem to meet Kate’s eye. ‘I’msomuch better now. Thanks to Chris and Annabelle. And to you two.’
‘We’re so glad to hear that,’ Jake says. ‘You certainly look much better than the last time I saw you.’
‘Oh,’ Marisa says, biting the tip of one nail. ‘I’m sorry. I must have been in a right state.’
That’s one way of putting it, Kate thinks.
‘No, no,’ Jake interjects, batting away the idea. A blush creeps up the back of his neck.
‘Come on in, won’t you?’ Marisa says, and ushers them to the sofa.
Marisa asks Jake about the drive and he goes into unnecessary detail about which route they took and why. Kate is not sure what she expected but it definitely wasn’t this. She knew Marisa was calmer now, but she thought she would find her more dishevelled and weak, perhaps still in bed recovering from her breakdown. To see her acting the part of hostess, interacting with them both as if this were a natural situation, is eerie. The way she is speaking sounds fake, as though programmed by some unknown hand.
‘Kate, can I get you a tea?’ Marisa asks.
‘No. No thanks. I’m fine.’
‘I wanted to say … well, to explain really,’ Marisa says, fiddling with the corner of a blue patterned cushion on the chair. ‘That what you witnessed is entirely out of character for me. I didn’t want to tell you about my mental health history, for obvious reasons. I thought it would put you off.’
‘Yeah, well. It would have done,’ Kate says. She is frustrated, and can feel a tension rising within her. She realises now that she wanted some sort of showdown, a closure as dramatic as the event, and that this is being denied her.
Jake places his hand over Kate’s, which she interprets as a warning to calm down.How fucking dare he?Kate thinks, and takes her hand back. It didn’t happen to him, did it? She was the one Marisa had targeted, so surely it was up to Kate how she responded.
‘I can understand that,’ Marisa says, looking at her vaguely. ‘It’s why I didn’t tell the surrogacy agency either. I thought I had it under control, and I did. But I liked you guys so much – loved you, even – and you were doing so much for me, asking me to move in and all that, and I just wanted everything to be perfect for you and I was feeling so much better, much more myself, and I felt that stopping the drugs would, you know, be beneficial to the pregnancy. I thought I’d be fine. I genuinely did. I’d been fine for so long.’
‘That’s not the impression Jas gave,’ Kate says.
Marisa gazes at her, but any surprise she might feel at this revelation seems to take too long to reach her.
‘Oh. You’ve met Jas?’ She smiles again and the smile, like everything else about her, is slightly off. ‘She’s great, isn’t she? But she has her own issues. I’d take what she says with a pinch of salt.’
Jake clears his throat. He is cross with Kate, she can tell. They agreed that the key thing was to keep Marisa calm, not to contradict her or make her feel bad. Their priority was the baby, he said, not extracting the necessary penance. They had to let that go.
‘Anyway, let’s not dwell on the past,’ he says now. ‘The main thing is you’re safe, you’re back on your meds and we’re so happy you’re able to rest here while you carry our baby to term.’
‘Yes,’ Kate says. ‘Exactly.’
‘Youarehappy staying here, aren’t you?’ Jake looks at Marisa and his face is so earnest Kate can only marvel at how well he is playing this.
‘Oh yes, I am,’ Marisa replies. She rubs her belly in a circular motion. ‘The baby is too, I can feel it.’
‘And you’re eating well and taking the necessary supplements?’ Kate asks.
Marisa nods.
‘I promise you that your baby is s-s-safe with me, Kate,’ she says, stammering in a way Kate hasn’t heard before. ‘I’ll go for all the scans at the local hospital – Chris has already arranged that – and of course, you’re always welcome down here. Any time.’
‘Thank you, Marisa,’ Jake says, giving an obsequious little bow of the head.
Kate twists her hands into her jeans pockets, picking at the denim seams. The gall of the woman, inviting Jake to his family home! She stands abruptly. Marisa, cow-eyed, stares at her.
‘We’d better go, Jake. Your mother doesn’t want the lasagne to get cold.’
They leave, and Jake, ever polite, tells Marisa not to get up. She stays seated and tells them she will see them soon and then she lowers her head again, letting her hair fall across one side of her face as they go. She waits pliantly for them to close the door behind them. They walk back to the main house, catching the smell of freshly baked lasagne on the breeze.
