The coffee helped enormously and felt like a double espresso to her out-of-caffeine-touch system, and so too did the next candidate. He was young, younger than the other two candidates, and full of energy. His CV was impressive, his ideas amazing and even more, he mentioned the elephant in the room.
‘I know this isn’t the most amazingly paid job in the world,’ he said. ‘I mean, I could get better money somewhere else, but at this point in my life that’s not what I’m looking for.’
Sam sighed somewhere deep inside herself.
His name was Gareth and he was saving for a deposit on a house. ‘I know this isn’t the job where I’m going to become rich, but something is calling out to me in the charity sector.’
He had a round face, a thatch of blond hair and an engaging smile.
Sam felt that tingle inside her, the tingle that her sister was always talking about: trust your instincts, Joanne used to say; it was how they had both fallen in love. Sam had fallen for Ted instinctively. Joanne certainly hadn’t got the motto from their mother, Jean, who did more of a ‘what would the parents/board of governors/neighbours think’ sort of thing.
‘I’ll tell you what, said Sam now, smiling at Gareth, ‘you’re a wonderful candidate. I think a second interview would be a very good plan.’
‘Really?’ said Gareth. ‘Oh wow, that’s just amazing, I can’t believe it, I think I’ll phone my mum.’
Sam hoped he wasn’t making this adorableness up, because he was just perfect.
At that precise moment, she realised that if she had heard good news she wouldn’t have wanted to phone her mum, she’d have phoned Ted, Joanne or her dad. What if the same thing happened with her and this beloved baby? What if she was a hopeless mother and turned into a clone of her own mother: cold and unmaternal? Sam shivered:please no, anything but that.
But instead of letting any of that doubt show on her face, she beamed a confident smile at Gareth. Fake it till you make it, that was her motto.
At half seven on a bright summer’s morning the next day, Sam and Ted sat in the consultant’s waiting room along with lots of other pregnant women and their partners.
Despite the early hour, Sam’s dad had texted at six:Good luck to you both. Phone me when you’re out, love Dad.
From her mother, who knew about the last-minute scan in case the baby was breech as Sam’s own doctor now suspected, there had been no communication.
From Ted’s mother, Vera, who had three grandchildren already and operated on a lovely non-hassle mother-in-law style of relationship, there had been a speedy phone call the night before.
‘I’m saying a novena,’ she’d told Sam.
Vera had a novena or a special prayer for everything. ‘I know you don’t believe in that sort of thing, lovie, but I’m doing it. Father McIntyre has said a Mass for you. I’ve another cardigan knitted, too. Cream this time with a hint of yellow.’
Sam had teared up.
‘Vera, you’re so good.’
She got so weepy these days and now, with the scan, she felt extra teary. She was an old mother: things went wrong. She was half expecting billboards out every time she appeared near the hospital –Elderly mother en route.Should geriatrics have babies? Public debate later.
Who knew what this scan would bring.
But Vera kept repeating the magic words: ‘Don’t worry. You’ll be fine, Sam. You’re strong and healthy. You’ll be fine.’
To keep her mind off potential problems, she thought about a daft conversation she and Joanne had had about hair, of all things. Sam said she’d have to get up extra early when she went back to work after Baby Bean was born in order to get her hair blow-dried.
‘You aresonot going to do that,’ said Joanne, when she heard about that plan. ‘Getting up earlier than is absolutely required will be a nightmare and you are going to be in severe sleep deprivation.’
‘But you know I can’t do my own hair and I can’t go into work looking like I’ve been plugged in,’ said Sam. ‘You have normal hair – I have insane hair. I have spent my whole life battling it.’
‘You’ll stop caring when you have a baby,’ said Joanne, and added ominously: ‘Babies change everything.’
‘Of course, the baby is going to change a huge amount, but you know I’m still going to be me and Ted is going to be Ted. We’re going to have a normal life.’
‘Yeah, right,’ said Joanne, straight-faced. ‘You’re going to be the only woman on the planet whose life is not utterly changed by the birth of a baby,’ and she’d laughed.
Joanne was brilliant at rolling with whatever plan came along. Sam had been really good at crisis management when she’d worked in the bank, but baby crises ...? They were an unknown.
Sam breathed deeply. She had to stop with this negative self-talk. She was going to be able to handle it fine. She and Ted were clever, intelligent people and babies were a normal part of life.
