“Are you ill?” her mum said as soon as Libby walked into the kitchen.
“No.”
“Well, what’s wrong with you, then?”
“Nothing’s wrong. I’m just tired. Where are the eggs?”
“In one of those shopping bags.” Pauline nodded at several large brown paper bags on the counter.
Libby took a step toward the counter and then froze. Poking out from underneath one of the shopping bags was the pregnancy book she’d been looking at earlier, still open at the fifteen-weeks page. It seemed neither her mum nor her sister had noticed it when they came in, but Libby had to get it out of the kitchen, and fast. She glanced across at them, and they both had their backs turned to her, arguing over something in the fridge. As quietly as possible, Libby lifted up the bag and slipped the book out from underneath it.
“Libby, can you pass me the smoked sa—”
Her mum had turned to face her, and her mouth fell open as she saw Libby clutching the book. For a moment she remained like that, as if someone had pressedpause, and then her whole face lit up.
“Rebecca!” she squealed so loudly that Rebecca almost dropped the carton of orange juice she was lifting out of the fridge. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Libby could feel a crushing sensation against her ribs as sherealized what was going on. She opened her mouth to explain, but Rebecca spoke first.
“What are you talking about, Mum?”
“Is that why you invited me today, to make a big announcement? Well, then, you for leaving the book lying around!”
Rebecca’s face was blank. She turned to look at Libby for an explanation, and as she did, her eyes dropped to the book. For a moment nobody spoke, and Libby saw color rising up her sister’s throat.
“How many weeks?” Rebecca said, and her voice sounded like something was twisting her windpipe.
“I don’t know; you tell me, darling,” Pauline said with a laugh. “You’re not showing yet, so I’d guess less than twelve.”
Rebecca was staring at Libby, her expression vacant. The only indication of emotion was the bright flush of pink that had now moved up to her cheeks.
“Fifteen weeks,” Libby said quietly. “I’m sorry, Bex. I only found out—”
“Would someone tell me what’s going on?” The laughter in her mum’s voice had gone, and she was looking between her two daughters. “Rebecca?”
“I’m not pregnant,” Rebecca said, her voice faltering. “We just found out that our last round of IVF failed.”
“Oh. But then I don’t understand. Why are you reading—”
“It’s Libby.She’spregnant, not me.”
A few seconds of agonizing silence.
“Elizabeth?” her mum said, her eyes wide. “But... how?”
“I got pregnant before Simon and I broke up,” Libby said.
“It’s Simon’s, then?” Pauline’s face brightened with relief. “Thank god for that! Well, in that case it’s not terrible news atall.” She walked across the kitchen toward Libby. “In fact, I think it’s wonderful. Congratulations, darling!” She pulled her into a tight hug.
“Eh, thanks, Mum.” Libby’s eyes were on her sister, who hadn’t moved.
Pauline lowered her voice as she stage-whispered into Libby’s ear, “I have to admit, I’m a little relieved that at least one of my girls can get pregnant without any fuss.”
Rebecca flinched as if she’d been slapped. She quickly regained her composure, but Libby had seen it, that flash of searing pain.
“Rebecca, have you got any champagne in the fridge?” Pauline called, not turning round to look at her. “We need to celebrate Libby’s exciting news.”
Rebecca walked silently toward the fridge, her movements stiff, and she pulled out a bottle.
