Even Jake thinks it’s ridiculous.
‘It’s the most un-Mum thing I’ve ever heard,’ he says when Kate tells him. ‘She didn’t even believe in Valentine’s Day when we were growing up. Said it was an American invention.’
But they agree, of course, because it’s Annabelle and they have to play nice, at least until the baby arrives.
This time, the car is full, packed with six blue helium balloons and a cake with blue icing and the words ‘Baby Boy’ emblazoned across the top in fondant copperplate, all of which Annabelle ordered online from London shops, having found the boutiques of Tewkesbury wanting.
‘Why on earth couldn’t she get them delivered to her?’ Kate asks.
‘She said the cake “wouldn’t travel well”.’
‘And the balloons?’
‘She’s gone mad,’ Jake jokes as they turn out of Richborne Terrace and he struggles to see out of the rear-view mirror because of all the paraphernalia in the back. ‘It’s finally happened.’
The baby shower felt dangerous in its presumption, as though she were daring fate to snatch away the thing she most wanted. Last week, Kate had told her work about the pregnancy and it had been difficult to explain to her colleagues that yes, she was having a baby but no, she wasn’t actuallyhavingit.
‘Wow,’ her assistant Monique had said. ‘That’s so cool.’
‘Really?’ Kate asked, taken aback. She’d anticipated questions and widened eyes and maybe even some mild disapproval, but everyone was immediately supportive and accepted the situation with a matter-of-factness that left her slightly deflated.
‘Yeah,’ Monique said. ‘It’s so badass being a woman who knows what she wants and just, y’know, goes out and gets it.’
‘It’s a bit more complicated than that,’ Kate said gently. ‘But thank you. That means a lot.’
Even then, Kate worried she was speaking too soon, that it might not happen the way it was meant to, that Marisa would change her mind about handing their child over, or that she would have another psychotic breakdown or that any manner of unanticipated events could harm the future they craved. But she couldn’t hope to explain any of this to the outside world.
A baby shower is the last thing she feels like.
They arrive at the farmhouse shortly after midday.
‘Jesus,’ Jake says. ‘I can’t believe it.’
Kate follows his eyes and then she sees it: a banner hung across the front door, silvery blue letters hanging from a string spelling out ‘About To Pop’.
She starts to laugh and then Jake joins her and for a few seconds, they are unable to stop themselves. He is doubled over, hands on his knees, and she is wiping tears from her eyes when Annabelle opens the door.
‘What on earth is the matter?’ she asks them. ‘Are you all right?’
‘Yes, yes,’ Jake says, collecting himself. ‘Hi Mum. Great banner by the way.’
Kate chews the inside of her cheek to stop herself from breaking into laughter again.
‘Oh that,’ Annabelle waves her hand. ‘Just a bit of fun. Chris found it in the village shop, can you believe it? The stuff they have in there!’
‘Catering for every conceivable occasion,’ Kate adds,sotto voce.
Annabelle looks at her in that way she has, as though only just remembering her existence. ‘What’s that?’
‘What a lovely occasion,’ Kate says, more loudly.
Annabelle is in a diaphanous floor-length dress which seems to be made up of several intertwined pieces of fabric, gathered up and tied in a rope-like construction at her neck. She looks like an imposing Greek goddess, the kind they built 13-metre-high statues to in the Acropolis.
‘Come in, come in. I’ve set everything up in the drawing room. Marisa’s so excited about seeing you, the darling girl.’
Kate stops in her tracks. She glances at Jake. He looks away and lowers his head and she knows he has heard it too and doesn’t know what to do with himself.The darling girl, Kate thinks? Annabelle has never been so casually affectionate with her.
Jake reaches out to take her hand. Kate does not give it to him. They walk into the drawing room where Chris is ensconced in his usual armchair.
