Mishael’s feet appear to be frozen to the flagstones, her face drained of colour, leaving her quite grey. She doesn’t seem to register my tugging on her arm; she doesn’t even shake my hand away.
‘I’m well aware of the jurisprudence,’ Kai says, louder now. ‘I won’t allow you to do this—my marriage was by the book, whatever you think.’
I begin to walk, no half jog, my dress gathered in my arms, as Faris speaks again.
Kai cuts him off. ‘You just don’t get it, do you?’ He expels an angry laugh. ‘I fucking love her, and apart from that monumental announcement—love, Father; you recall the concept, in theory, at least?—she also happens to be carrying my child.’
Christ on a bike. Christ on a feckin’ great Harley! What have I done? Niamh’s hand grips my arm, but I won’t be held, rounding the corner and almost smacking into the back of Faris. Faris, who seems to be holding his face.
‘You will never—neverspeak of her that way again.’ I thought I’d seen Kai angry before, but it seems he has hidden depths. Eerily calm, scary hidden depths. ‘If you so much as look at her the wrong way, I will cut you out of my life—our lives. I’m going to be a father; do you even know what that means? I do. It means I take every fatherly example you’ve set me and do exactly the opposite.’ Hands by his side, his whole body heaves with restraint. And then he notices us—Niamh and myself, Mum and Mishael, coming up from behind.
Like a whirlwind, I’m suddenly up in his arms.
‘Kai. It’s not—’
‘I’m sorry,’ he says, kissing my face and hair. ‘I was waiting for you to tell me, I swear.’
‘How? I—’
‘Martha found the tests in the bathroom.Habibti, I wish I’d been there. You must’ve been so worried and confused. Confused enough to use a half dozen tests.’ This he says on the breath of a laugh.An almost nervous laugh.
I purse my lips against the notion of correcting him; there were onlyfour. Bloody Martha. No wonder she’s been so nice. The nosy bitch must’ve thought I was responsible for delivery of the second coming.
‘And you’ve gone off wine.’
Jesus! Why does that sound like an accusation? I do not drink too much! I screw my eyes tight, hating that we have an audience, not sure if I’m doing the right thing, but if not this, then what? ‘Kai, listen.’
‘It’s going to be fine, I promise you.’
‘No, listen to me, please.’ My voice stronger now, I take his hands from my face and hold them between us. ‘I’m not pregnant.’
‘Yes, you are. The tests...’
‘They were Niamh’s.’
For a fleeting moment Kai’s expression changes from confused to something I can’t quite place, before being replaced by neutral just as quick.
But it couldn’t—couldn’thave been disappointment...
Could it?
It sure as hell didn’t look like relief.
Kai swallows thickly, shaking his head almost imperceptibly. It’s more like I’m aware of the change in the air than the movement itself.
‘Niamh,’ he repeats evenly.
‘Yeah. She’s the one who—who’s pregnant.’ The one who has forbidden all mention of the event. Because she “needed to get my head ’round it first”.
‘Jesus fuck.’
At the exclamation, I turn my head over my shoulder. Mishael is still ashen and Mum has a hand over her mouth.From the swearing, making JC fornicate or just plain old shock? I’m not bothered which; quiet is quiet as far as I’m concerned.But Niamh. Niamh looks like she’s ready to kill.
‘Why don’t you get a loud speaker—announce it to the fucking world!’ Her voice may be loud, but the words are expelled through gritted teeth.
I open my mouth, but a deeper voice answers, instead.
‘Hun?’
