A Winter’s Wish Come True

Any hope I had of stopping my mum from finding out about the baby is well and truly gone. I shoot Scott a murderous glare, then turn around to face the music.

‘Mum … I’m pregnant. Ten weeks, and Scott’s the father. We … spent the night together after he got back from Australia, but we aren’t getting back together.’

An eerie silence falls over my cottage as I wait for someone, anyone to react. Mum stares right at me, looking like she’s about to pass out, and Scott doesn’t know where to put himself.

‘I …’ Mum swallows and pauses as she clutches her chest. Her skin is the colour of chalk and she grabs onto the kitchen doorframe.

Scott and I exchange worried looks.

‘Mum, are you OK?’ I ask. ‘Scott, run and get her a glass of water please.’

He dashes off towards the kitchen while I try to manoeuvre Mum into the living room to sit down. It’s no mean feat doing it on my own, but I eventually manage it. Her head sinks forward and she covers her face with her hands. A strange noise follows, one that sounds like a cat having its tail stood on. I back away towards the door to give her some space, not wanting to startle her by getting too close. Scott returns a few seconds later with the glass of water.

‘Is she OK?’ he whispers. ‘Has she said anything? That noise doesn’t sound good.’

I shake my head. ‘No, she’s just sort of … sitting there, really. Do you think she needs to see a doctor?’

He shrugs. ‘I don’t know, I’ve never seen her like this before.’ He turns to look at me. ‘You know, it’s kind of funny, isn’t it? It’s taken your mum having a meltdown for us to be civil to one another.’

I chuckle and nod in agreement. ‘Yeah, we were at each other’s throats a minute ago, and now we’re trying to work out if my mum’s been possessed or not! Should I go up to her, maybe give her a hug?’

Scott frowns as he observes her. ‘No, stay back for a minute. She might lash out or something and I don’t want her hurting you.’

‘I can hear, you know!’ she yells from the sofa. ‘I might be in shock, but I haven’t gone deaf!’

I breathe a sigh of relief. ‘Are you OK, Mum? Do you want a cup of tea or something?’

She looks up at me and I can see tears shining in her eyes. ‘What I want is for you to sit down and tell me how you’ve made such a God-awful mess of your life. But a cup of tea wouldn’t go amiss either, I suppose.’

I look at Scott, who nods and slopes back off to the kitchen. I perch myself on the edge of an armchair and prepare for a medley of ‘how could you? What will people think?’ Maybe there’ll even be a special encore performance of her favourite number, ‘you’re a bitter, crushing disappointment’.

‘So …’ Mum trails off for a moment to collect herself. ‘What’s been going on, Cleopatra?’

That question is a lot harder to answer than it might sound. My mouth opens and closes as I try to work out the best way to tell her everything. Eventually, I decide there’s no way to make it sound better. I’m just going to have to come out with it and hope for the best.

‘Scott and I … we bumped into each other in the pub after he got back to Silverdale.’ I decide to gloss over the finer details for now. ‘And a few days ago, I found out I was pregnant. We’re not getting back together for the baby’s sake; in fact, we haven’t really decided what we’re doing yet. But we’ll figure it out, OK? And you’ll be an awesome grandma!’

Scott comes back, carrying two cups of tea. He hands one to me and puts my mum’s on the coffee table.

‘She’s right,’ he replies. ‘The baby will be lucky to have you as a grandma.’

Mum’s head snaps up and I can see a murderous glare on her face. ‘Under no circumstances will I be called grandma! The baby can call me Nina, since that’s my name.’

Scott and I burst into fits of giggles and as the heavy atmosphere disperses, I finally feel that everything might be alright after all.

Chapter Five (#ulink_0de1deed-c5d0-5fb3-9954-4a14b3d4887f)

Walking into the community centre to do my first Carb Counters meeting as a pregnant woman is a strange experience. Although nothing is actually different – apart from finding out about the baby, that is – it feels like everything has changed. As I go through the motions of setting the tables and chairs out, I’m all too aware that I’m not strictly alone. Although the baby’s still tiny, I can’t help but notice its presence. The nausea hasn’t let up much in the last few days and, at Scott’s insistence, I’ve enlisted Emma to do tonight’s workout session.

‘Well, what do you think?’ I turn my head just in time to see her burst onto the stage in brightly coloured workout gear. She’s also crimped her hair for the occasion.

‘I think eighties Olivia Newton-John has nothing on you right now,’ I reply with a grin. ‘What have you got planned for the group tonight then?’

Emma picks up her phone and waves it at me. ‘Tonight, we’re going to have a dance workout to the best eighties playlist the internet has to offer! How does that sound?’

‘It sounds like they’re in for a treat! I’ll be sitting at the side, singing along badly to the music. Scott doesn’t think high-intensity exercise is a good idea right now.’

I heave a sad little sigh. Emma jumps down from the stage and comes over to give me a hug. ‘I know you’d love to join in, but it’s probably best you don’t since you fainted last time. When you’ve had the baby, we’ll get our leg warmers on and strut our stuff together.’

I nod and give her a squeeze. ‘I’ll hold you to that, you know. It won’t be easy taking a back seat to the exercise portion, but at least I can still do everything else. Well, until I get to be the size of a walrus that is!’

Although it’s an offhand comment, it strikes a chord of panic in me. For the first time since discovering I was pregnant, I realise how my body’s going to change. Fear begins to curl its fingers around me, clouding my judgement and filling my head with awful thoughts.

‘Are you OK?’ Emma’s voice pulls me back to the present. ‘You looked like you were a million miles away.’

I nod my head, even though I know I’m lying.

‘Yeah,’ I say, ‘I’m absolutely fine.’

‘Are you sure? You can tell me if you’re not. I’m going to grab Zara after the group’s finished to ask her about planning your baby shower.’

‘No!’ I yelp. ‘I … haven’t told her yet. She doesn’t know about the baby.’

Emma’s eyes widen. ‘She’s one of your best friends, how come you haven’t told her?’

I sigh. ‘She had such a hard time last year after Craig left her, and she’s had fertility problems for a long time. I don’t want to rub my news in her face, that’s all.’

My best friend nods slowly. ‘She’d be really happy for you, you know. You should tell her.’

As she slopes off to get ready for her debut, I watch Zara chatting away with some of the other group members. In the last twelve months, I’ve watched her pick herself up, dust herself off and start a new life. She’s a completely different woman to the one I met at Carb Counters. She’s put her struggles with fertility and her marriage split behind her, and is living life to the full.

Yet I know she’d kill to have what I do: a baby on the way and a man who cares about her (even if Scott and I aren’t together anymore). She’d embrace every part of pregnancy – including the not-so-nice bits – because she’s wanted it for so long.

Then there’s me: I’m terrified of what the next six months will hold, especially my body going through changes I can’t control.

Suddenly, I feel unbearably selfish.

*

The meeting goes well that night, although dark thoughts keep invading my mind. The standout slimmer is Zara, who has lost four pounds. Towards the end of the group’s sharing portion, we all stand up and give her a round of applause.

‘Thanks everyone,’ she says, wiping a couple of tears away. ‘You’re the best!’

She comes over to me as the rest of the group goes to get ready for the workout.

‘How are you?’ she asks with a sheepish grin. ‘I’m really sorry I couldn’t come to the hospital with you, and that I’ve been terrible at keeping in touch. There’s a really good reason for it, I promise.’

Part of me wants to tell Zara about the baby. She’s one of my best friends and it’s only natural that I want to tell her my news. However, I want to tread carefully; she’s struggled with her fertility for a long time, and I don’t want to come across as insensitive.