‘Fiona…’
I look up to see Molly walk in with an armful of next month’s interiors magazines. She fans them out on the coffee table and then straightens up, smoothing down her skirt. I always like to have an up-to-date selection for clients to browse through while they’re here.
‘Thanks, Molly. Shall we have a cuppa?’
She nods and goes over to the coffee machine. She’s always so immaculately turned out – her hair, clothes and make-up are all flawless. I often think Molly would be better suited to a career in fashion than interiors. I’ve tried to get her interested in the design process. I want her to wow me with fresh new ideas, but disappointingly she hasn’t ever shown any real initiative. She does what’s asked of her and that’s it. She’s a decent enough assistant I suppose, but I don’t think her heart’s in the business.
She stands at the coffee machine, her back to me, shoulders down. I’m not sure what’s up with her at the moment. She’s been distracted over the past couple of weeks. And while she’s never exactly been the most enthusiastic employee in the world, lately her mind has been elsewhere. I think I’m going to have a word with her, check everything’s okay.
Finally, she brings me a coffee and hovers awkwardly by my side.
‘Aren’t you having one?’ I ask.
‘No thanks.’
‘Sit down for a bit, let’s have a chat.’
Her cheeks flush and she pulls out a chair and plops down next to me. ‘Are those the new mill house designs?’ She nods at my sketch book.
‘Yes, if you can call them that. I haven’t got very far with them.’
‘You will,’ she says flatly. ‘Your designs are always amazing.’
I’m surprised by how touched I am at her praise – even if it’s said grudgingly. I honestly never thought she was that bothered by what I do. ‘Thanks, Molly.’ I give her a warm smile. ‘You know, we could work on them together, if you like?’ I’m usually quite precious about my designs, but I’m suddenly overcome by the need to be generous towards her. To be kind. I realise I haven’t exactly been the most approachable boss. I haven’t really given her any opportunities to shine.
‘That’s… that’s nice of you. But I can’t.’
‘Oh.’ I’m disappointed by her response. ‘Sure you can. I’ll help you with it.’
‘I don’t mean Ican’t. I mean, I’m sorry, Fiona, but I’m handing in my notice.’
‘You’re…’
‘It’s not that I don’t like the job.’ Her expression changes to one of barely concealed excitement. ‘It’s just… well… I’m pregnant, actually. Me and Josh are having a baby and we’re moving back east to be nearer my parents.’
‘Oh.’ I realise I don’t sound happy for her, so I make an attempt to recover myself. ‘Well, that’s fantastic news. Congratulations!’ I reach forward and give her an awkward hug.
‘Thanks, Fiona. I’ll work out my notice of course.’
‘Well, only if you feel up to it.’
She laughs. ‘I’m pregnant, not sick.’ Her hand goes to her stomach, which I realise is a little more rounded than usual. Funny I never noticed.
‘I didn’t realise you wanted to start a family.’
‘It wasn’t planned. But Josh is really happy about it and he’s asked me to marry him.’
‘Well, that’s a double congratulations then!’ I try to sound happier than I feel. It’s awful to admit it, but aside from the inconvenience of losing my assistant, there’s another feeling bubbling up inside my gut. Something visceral. Primal. It’s not about Molly leaving, it’s more to do with the fact that she’s only twenty-two – ten years younger than me – and she’s having a baby with her boyfriend. I realise that I’m jealous of Molly. Which is crazy, isn’t it?
I’ve always known Nathan doesn’t want kids, and I don’t either. Before we got married, we both decided that we wanted to enjoy our careers without the guilt or distraction of having children. Nathan has always been extremely ambitious, and I’ve always loved my work, so it made sense to take the pressure off ourselves. To not conform to society’s expectations. But lately, I’ve been having these thoughts that maybe it wouldn’t be altogether terrible to have a family. I see my friends with their children, and I’ve always thought it looks chaotic and messy and painful and – to be frank – like bloody hard work. So why would I want to put myself through that? It makes no sense. These new maternal feelings are inconvenient. But I can’t help them. And, looking back at the decision Nathan and I made, I can’t help wondering whether it really was my decision to not have kids, or whether I just went along with him because I didn’t want to rock the boat. But I must be crazy to be thinking about this right now, because how can I even contemplate having a family when everything else is such a mess?
‘Are you okay, Fiona?’ Molly’s frowning at me.
‘Yes, I’m fine. Just trying to take in your news. You must be so excited.’
‘I am. Nervous about being a mum, but I also can’t wait, if that even makes sense!’ she laughs. It’s the most animated I’ve ever seen her.
‘You’ll be great,’ I say, taking a sip of my coffee.
