23rd July2023
I can hearvoices downstairs as I finish putting away the laundry. The doorbell rang not long ago, so it must be one of the girls, they’re the only people that turn up unannounced.
Walking downstairs, empty basket in hand, I hear Marcus’ laughter before I see anyone, and he barrels into me just as I reach the last step.
“Marcus! You must be careful with Auntie Shari, please,” Jaime admonishes.
A confused look crosses his face, his arms still around my waist as he rests his chin on my stomach to look up at me. “Why?”
I drop the basket to the floor and stroke his hair back from his forehead with a smile. “Well, you have to keep it a secret for a little while longer, but I’m having a baby! Can you keep that secret for me? Just until we’ve told everyone we want to.”
Marcus’ grey eyes grow impossibly wide as he nods frantically. “I’m so good at secrets, Auntie Shari! You’ll see!”
He lets go of me to run outside, calling Pickles after him, and the two of them disappear to wreak havoc on my poor garden.
Jaime shakes her head, “The whole neighbourhood will know you’re pregnant by the time we leave. He isterribleat secrets.”
We share a laugh as Brad makes his way over to me to rub my belly. “In all seriousness, did he hurt you? Do you need to sit down or anything?”
I pat his hand where it’s resting on my bump and smile, “I’m good. He’s still kinda small and I’m not made of glass. Women’s bodies are pretty resilient at protecting the babies within.”
“Well, then I’ll go make us drinks and snacks, you sit and protect that baby,” he urges with a peck to my lips. I sigh as he walks away, appreciating the view.
“You’ve got it bad, Shari,” Jaime teases.
“I do have a big case of the hots for that guy. I mean, just look at him! Such a specimen.”
She makes a derisive noise, which confuses me. “I don’t just mean lust, bro. Of course you fancy him, you’re not blind, but youlikehim! You might even be falling for him.”
“What?” I laugh. “Jaime, don’t be mad. I like him as a person, sure. I fancy the fuck out of him, obviously. But real feelings? No, babe. He’s a great guy, but he’s so young. He won’t want to keep doing this for much longer, so we’re having fun,” I utter quietly. The last thing I want is for Brad to think we’re gossiping behind his back.
“You’re deluded, is what you are,” she shakes her head.
“Can we not have this conversation right now?”
Brad comes back with a tray of drinks and sandwiches, and Marcus comes tearing back inside to grab some for himself. “Can I eat this outside, Mum?”
“Sure, but don’t give too much to Pickles!” Jaime shouts after him as he runs off with my dog hot on his heels.
“So, I don’t think I ever asked how you guys all ended up in Bristol?” Brad muses before taking a bite of his lunch. “I know you moved here after your divorce, Blaze, but how did the rest of your group decide to set up camp here, of all places?”
“Well, my parents are originally from Bath and moved back there after my dad’s contract was up in South-East Asia. Their move happened to coincide with my last year of uni, so I decided to move closer to them when I was job hunting. Glasgow was just way too far for me,” Jaime explains.
“Way too far,” I agree. “Max was living in London, even after she graduated, and she was really starting to hate it. Particularly the B.O. on the tube,” I laugh. “Remember how she went through that phase of texting a description of that particular day’s smell?”
“Oh fuck me, every day for like a month! Smells like fish today. Someone hasn’t washed their socks today. Why does this guy’s pits smell like raw onion?” Jaime’s voice gets louder with every word until we’re both cackling.
“Every time she’d come visit me, she would go on about how it’s so pretty here and right by the water, and how much cheaper everything seemed to be. So I was like, why don’t you just move,duh?” Jaime adds.
“It took her a couple of years to figure out logistics and find a location to open her baby sensory place, since she no longer wanted to work a corporate job, but she’s never looked back. And she met Dennis here, so,” I shrug, not needing to finish the thought.
Brad hums in response. “And Elle?”
“Elle actually went to UWE Bristol?—”
“To do an Art History degree, of all things,” Jaime interjects with a snort.
“—and yeah, she actually hated the course so dropped out after two years. Found a lovely, independent, cookery course and decided to follow her true passion of baking instead.”
