Lou decided to ignore her daughter’s last remark. However uncomfortable Nic was with Lou’s decision to move out of the family home, Lou was not going to let her be the arbiter in her parents’ relationship. ‘I’m only joking. Don’t be so sensitive, Nic. Of course I missed you too, but going away was the right thing for me to do.’
Nic shook her head.
‘No, really. India was amazing. You’d love it there.’ Would she though? As well as everything that she had enjoyed, Lou remembered the dirt; the stink; the poverty; families living on the pavements, in the stations; child beggars tapping at car windows; Delhi belly; the drains; the reckless driving. None of that had been enough to negate her own thrill at experiencing the country – but would her over-fastidious daughter react in the same way? ‘Look. I’ve brought you a couple of things.’ She pushed across the table a yellow and green drawstring jewellery purse, a paper bag containing a scarf she’d bought at a stall in a gateway at the Mehrangarh Fort, and a newspaper-wrapped statue of the elephant god, Ganesh, for luck.
Nic pulled open the purse and slid out the star sapphire ring that Lou had chosen with such care. ‘It’s lovely, Mum.’
Had she actually got a present right for once? Filled with disbelief and pleasure, Lou plunged the knife into the Christmas cake. Just another small slice.
As Nic slipped the ring onto her right hand, Lou thought she heard her sniff. When her daughter looked up, her face was a muddle of emotions, her eyes brimming with tears.
‘Nic? Whatever’s the matter? I just wanted to bring you back something special but if you don’t like it … well, I can’t change it, but …’
Seeing Nic so upset induced immediate and unwelcome guilt. She should never have fled the country. How selfish she’d been. Instead, she should have skipped Christmas by burying herself in Devon with Fiona and Charlie after all. At least she’d have been in reach of home. However old her kids might be, they did still need her. She worried that this still mattered so much to her when she should be letting them go.
‘It’s not that, Mum. I do really love it.’ There was a long pause during which Nic struggled to compose herself, twisting the ring around her finger, watching the six-pointed star move through the blue-grey stone. Lou stretched out a hand to cover her daughter’s. Years ago, she might have been able to soothe any problem away but now, her maternal success rate was much lower. Nic was usually so strong, so self-contained. Since she’d been sixteen and had decided on a career in family law, following in the footsteps of her godmother, Fiona, she’d always given the impression that she’d rather lie bound to a railway track than seek advice from her parents.
Her daughter gave a final sniff and looked her straight in the eye. That familiar look of defiance was back. As Nic cleared her throat with a brusque cough, Lou had a sinking sensation, recognising that her daughter was about to say something momentous.
‘It’s just that …’ Deep breath. Twist of the ring around her finger. ‘I’m pregnant.’ For a second, Nic looked just as she had fifteen-odd years ago when confessing to some childish prank, anticipating the appalled parental reaction, her justification at the ready.
Lou stared at her, her hand frozen mid-stroke. ‘You’re what?’ Of all the things Nic might have said, this was the last she would have expected. Until now, her daughter’s career had taken precedence over everything, including any boyfriends who were dispatched whenever they got too much.
Immediately Nic was on the defensive, moving her hand out of reach. ‘I knew you’d be like that.’
‘I’m not like anything. It’s a bit of a shock, that’s all.’ Lou stood up to pour the coffee, as her mind raced through the implications. Having a baby would get in the way of Nic’s life, her work, and she wouldn’t like that. Presumably she’d come to ask for her mother’s support for an abortion. ‘Are you absolutely sure?’ she asked, playing for time.
Nic tutted. ‘Of course. One hundred per cent.’
‘Who’s the father? Max?’
‘That’s irrelevant.’ She made a scything movement through the air with her hand, cutting off any further discussion about her on–off boyfriend of the last year or so. She pushed her cake away from her.
‘Nic! How can you say that? Of course it isn’t. You have to take him into consideration too.’ But Lou could see that Nic was way ahead of her. She had made all her decisions and, as usual, Lou was going to have to try to catch up.
‘He’s made it plain that he wants nothing to do with this. He wants me to get rid of it.’ She sounded both outraged and determined.
‘And you? What do you want?’
‘I’m going to keep it. This is what I’ve wanted for ages.’
Despite the relief she felt, Lou thought it wise not to point out that Nic had never suggested she’d wanted any such thing. A career, yes. A solid relationship, yes. But a baby? This was the first Lou had heard of it.
‘What about your career?’ she said, sounding like the sort of mother she didn’t want to be.
‘Mum, thousands of women have babies and return to work.’ Nic was trying to control the note of impatience that had crept into her voice. ‘You should know that better than anyone. That won’t be a problem. I’ve thought it all through.’
‘You have?’ Lou took Nic’s plate and transferred the cake back into the tin. Giving herself something to do meant she didn’t have to look at her daughter while she tried to catch up with the conversation.
‘Yes, I have. I’m going to take the statutory maternity leave and then find a nanny share. Like you did.’
This was not the moment to elaborate on the difficulties that could come with nannies however lifesaving they might be. Lou remembered how torn she’d been between her job as fashion editor at Chic to Chic and her young children. The job had been demanding and competitive, complete with the extra strain of feeling she didn’t entirely fit the role with her sometimes off-beat sense of style. And when she’d been at home … How could she forget the soul-lacerating guilt when the smallest thing went wrong, the sense of abject despair when the children turned to the nanny rather than to her, the dull background feeling of in adequacy in both spheres of her life? They were only alleviated when she eventually became a full-time mother – even though that decision was forced on her. But there was no arguing with Nic once her mind was made up. If anything, any objection raised by Lou would only make her dig in her heels. Lou needed time to think through the ramifications of the news before discussing them with her daughter. Nothing had to be decided this second.
A baby! For a moment she envisaged the two of them, heads bent over this unexpected addition to the family, sharing the pleasure together. She felt a thrill of anticipation before she was brought back to the moment as Nic spoke.
‘I just need you to help me with one thing.’
‘Of course. I’ll do whatever I can.’
Nic was fidgeting, tipping her mug back and forth, intent on her coffee, anything rather than catch her mother’s eye. Obviously something else was troubling her and she was finding a way to say it.
Lou held her breath.
Without moving her head, Nic glanced up at her, then away again. ‘Dad doesn’t know.’ There it was. The all-important missing detail lay between them like a ticking bomb.
‘Why not?’ As if Lou didn’t know.
‘He’ll go ballistic, that’s why.’
Light dawned. Nic hadn’t come to share the news with her so much as to persuade her to be the messenger. ‘And you want me to tell him?’
‘You’ll have to, Mum. The boys think so too.’ Nic banged down her mug, as final as a judge’s gavel. Decision made.
So she’d told her two brothers first. Even though Lou had been away when Nic broke the news, that hurt, too. What had gone wrong with the adult mother–daughter relationship, which Lou had anticipated with such pleasure when Nic was little? She had imagined them sharing confidences, shopping together, even taking the occasional weekend break – everything Lou had missed out on with her own mother. But none of that had happened and it now looked as though it never would. Nic had always behaved like a cuckoo in the nest, making her presence loudly felt before taking to her wings as soon as she could.
‘Shouldn’t we talk this through properly first?’
‘Mum, there’s nothing to discuss. Not now anyway. I’m not asking you to be ecstatic for me, though that would be nice, but just to help with this one little thing. Please.’ She drew the last word out into a childish entreaty. ‘I’m nearly three months and I’ll be showing soon.’
‘But I haven’t seen him for weeks.’ Lou racked her brains for a better objection.
‘Mu-um?’ Nic knew there wasn’t one.
Despite all her misgivings, it was hard to refuse her daughter. Lou remembered the excitement that had accompanied her own pregnancies, the absolute joy she had felt, the hopes for the future, the pure unfettered longing for a baby.
The news would travel among their old friends like a forest fire. Just as it probably had when they learned that Lou had moved out. How the more conventional among them would sympathise yet relish in the Sherwood family’s misfortunes. How they would sigh with relief at having been spared a similar fate themselves. That thought gave Lou strength. Who gave a damn what they thought? She had summoned up the will to ignore their views when she left Hooker, and that’s just what she would do again. Nic should be encouraged to take the path in life she chose for herself.
‘All right.’ Lou saw relief colour her daughter’s face. ‘I’ll talk to him. And I’ll give you all the support you need. Anything you need for this baby – you can rely on me. That’s a promise.’
Perhaps Nic’s motherhood would at last bring the two of them closer. Being a single grandmother had not been part of Lou’s plans, in fact it wasn’t a concept that had even crossed her mind. But at least Nic would understand what Lou had gone through trying to balance her work with the children’s demands – and that she had done the best she could.
‘Thank you, thank you,’ said Nic, getting up and flinging her arms around her. ‘I knew you would.’
Lou hugged back and for a moment all their differences melted away. Lou breathed in the smell of her daughter’s hair, noticing how tense and bony her shoulders were. But she didn’t comment or tell her to relax. Nic would tell her if anything else was troubling her in her own good time. If Lou couldn’t have all of her daughter, she would take whatever part of her was on offer.
‘Oh, and I’d keep off the cake if I were you,’ Nic suggested as she shrugged on her coat and stepped out through the front door.
After her daughter had gone, Lou washed the coffee pot, thinking over their conversation. Communication between them had clearly broken down more than she had realised. Why did Nic want this baby so badly? Had Lou and Hooker unintentionally failed her somehow, so that she needed something more in her life to love and be loved by? But they hadn’t been such bad parents, had they? Not when she compared them to all the dysfunctional families that were paraded through the pages of the daily tabloids. She couldn’t believe that their growing distance from one another had been the cause. Now finally separated, they were about to become grandparents. Another tie that was bound to throw them together again.