Baby, Me, OMG: Motherhood fiction (Surprise Baby Romance) Read online

  Bill said, ‘What appointment?’

  Penelope hissed, ‘The appointment!’ in a way that sounded like a fire extinguisher going off.

  When we left, Helen grabbed my arm and said, ‘I will never, EVER live this down. Do not tell ANYONE about this lunch. Ever.’

  Got home, phoned Mum and told her about the lunch.

  She laughed for ten minutes without stopping.

  Then she got Dad, Laura and Brandi on conference call and told them the story.

  They laughed for ten minutes without stopping.

  Then Mum ran downstairs and told everyone in the pub.

  Monday March 30th

  Daisy fell asleep on the sofa this afternoon. I didn’t dare move her into the stroller – she gets all upset if she’s woken. So I was stuck indoors and couldn’t get out to do the shopping.

  I asked Nick to pick up some food on the way home. He bought:

  A four-pack of continental lager

  A large bag of double-fried sour cream crisps

  A Spanish meat platter

  When I asked Nick about food for Daisy, he looked at me blankly.

  ‘Crisps and smoked meat are too salty for her,’ I explained.

  He said he wasn’t a ‘bloody baby nutritionist’ and had no idea what food she needed.

  Then he sat on the sofa, ate all the crisps and the meat platter and drank a continental lager while bouncing Daisy on his knee.

  Helen was lingering in the kitchen, pretending to work on her laptop.

  She muttered, ‘Nicholas shouldn’t have to do the shopping. He works hard enough as it is.’

  Ha!

  All Nick’s done today is meet a friend for lunch.

  I told Helen it wasn’t the 1950s and Nick should pull his weight. And anyway, Daisy had kept me under house arrest all day, so I couldn’t make the shops.

  Helen said, ‘Well, that proves my point once again about routine, doesn’t it? You let that baby rule this house.’

  I said, ‘No Helen – you rule this house. And you don’t even live here.’

  Right now, I’m past caring about falling out with her. She still hasn’t forgiven me for the Dearheart lunch.

  God – WE NEED TO MOVE!

  Tuesday March 31st

  Miracle of miracles, Sadie turned up for training today.

  She was wearing a designer running outfit with go-faster stripes and colour-co-ordinated sunglasses.

  I think she was hoping to see Alex, because she said, ‘Oh – is it just you then?’

  I didn’t tell her Alex might be coming tomorrow.

  Nick snorted, ‘Are you auditioning for a part, Sadie? Because you’re just not believable.’

  Sadie said, ‘At least they show my face when I get parts, lizard boy. No one’s ever CGI’d me out.’

  She knows how to twist the knife. Nick is so embarrassed about that Star Trek thing. He really thought he was going to be the new face of American television.

  Nick got all defensive, insisting he’d known all along they were going to CGI him out.

  Sadie said, ‘Really? Because I heard your acting was so over-the-top they had to get rid of you, or lose hours of footage.’

  Ouch.

  Nick muttered something about pancake day.

  Sadie smirked, stuck her bum out and said, ‘You know, I should have been an athlete. It suits me, don’t you think? I can run forever. Just forever.’

  Then she looked at me and said, ‘You really do need a sports bra.’

  During our run, we started talking about babies and pregnancy and stuff.

  Sadie asked how Nick was at Daisy’s birth.

  I told her he was terrified and spent half my labour downing whisky to cope with ‘mental female shit’. And after the birth, he took all my prescription painkillers for his hangover.

  Sadie said maybe he’d do better with the next baby.

  I told her we weren’t having another baby. Not unless Nick did some serious growing up.

  We ran about a mile in total before Sadie complained about blisters.

  ‘You can over-train,’ she said, as we walked back to the apartment. ‘No sense burning ourselves out before the big day.’

  Wednesday April 1st

  Morning

  Thought I’d do a spring clean this morning. It being spring and that.

  So I tried to de-clutter the bathroom.

  There’s SO much stuff in there. I divided it into pre- and post-pregnancy.

  Pre-pregnancy

  Va-va-voom! mascara, neon eyeshadow, glittery nail varnish, fruit face mask, waxing strips, tampons and general pampering stuff.

  Post-pregnancy

  Sanitary towels big enough to absorb a bath-load of water, a vaginal toning weight kit, stretch mark cream, suppositories, a big Velcro belt to help my stomach muscles knit together and hospital knickers made of stretchy netting.

  How can something as natural as pregnancy and childbirth mess your body up so badly?

  Evening

  Alex called round at 8pm to take me running.

  Nick was so pissed off, but he has no reason to be. I can’t help the fact that Nick and Alex didn’t get on at school (Nick went to Windsor College for a year, before getting expelled for laziness).

  Anyway, Sadie is so unreliable.

  Alex and I did more running and less walking this time.

  We jogged along the Thames and all the way to Embankment.

  A man on the deck of a river cruiser shouted: ‘Alex Dalton! I don’t believe it. Just the man. Jump onboard – I have some killer news about Maverick.’

  Alex said, ‘Not right now, Ben.’

  The man looked at his cocktail glass, pretended to rub his eyes and said, ‘Did you just say, “not right now” to a business discussion?’

  Alex said, ‘We’ll talk tomorrow.’

  We ran on, and I asked about Maverick.

  Alex said, ‘It’s a Swedish hotel chain. We’re looking to them over.’

  I said, ‘So isn’t that important? Do you want to go back?’

  Alex said, ‘It’s not important. Not right now.’

  Thursday April 2nd

  Phoned Laura to ask about her and Zach, but she said nothing much was happening. They’ve been on a few dates, but that was it.

  Bugger. I was hoping they were secretly engaged or something. That would irritate Catrina Dalton and Helen no end.

  After clearing out the bathroom yesterday, I realise I might still be traumatised about Daisy’s birth.

  She came out okay in the end, but they had to use some big metal barbeque tongs.

  Before I had Daisy, I wanted a natural birth. Now I know the truth.

  Nature is cruel and awful and we’re lucky to have things like morphine and haemorrhoid cream.

  Friday April 3rd

  Good Friday

  Nick is in Sheffield for an audition this weekend, so I’m back in Great Oakley.

  Considered getting Daisy an Easter egg. But she’s a bit young for chocolate (although Mum says we had Easter eggs ‘practically from birth’). So I bought her socks with little chickens on them.

  Got the usual Cadbury’s Buttons Easter egg for Callum.

  I’m not giving it to him until Easter Sunday.

  Dad always insisted we didn’t have our Easter eggs until then, and it taught us patience and self-control.

  Saturday April 4th

  Did a bad thing. Ate Callum’s Easter egg.

  Luckily the village supermarket was still open, so I bought him another one.

  9pm

  Did a bad thing again. Ate the replacement egg.

  Supermarket closed now.

  Sunday April 5th

  Easter Sunday

  Snuck out early to buy a replacement egg, but the village supermarket was closed.

  Ended up getting the train into London and buying a giant Thornton’s bunny rabbit from a 24-hour off-licence.

  It was enormous – almost as big as Daisy.

  Of cours
e, Callum ate the whole thing at once. Then he jumped on every bouncy surface in the house and put his foot through a wicker coffee table.

  Monday April 6th

  Easter Monday

  Bit sick of chocolate. But Mum has made a double-chocolate Easter cake covered in chocolate frosting, chocolate chicks, and chocolate bunnies. There’s also a surprise in the middle – chocolate fondant.

  Tuesday April 7th

  Morning

  Dad came round to discuss beer for the wedding.

  He made detailed notes about guests and drinking habits, worked out the number of beer barrels we’d need, then fixed the leaking tap in the bathroom and replaced a blown fuse in the kitchen light.

  Thinking about guest numbers (or any numbers) was a nightmare.

  What’s happened to my brain? I used to know whole phone numbers. Now I can’t even find my handbag in the morning.

  How do women manage with two children? Or three?

  My old school friend, Mandy Hughes, has FOUR children. She looks like the walking dead – all blank-eyed. She can’t even match up her kids’ names – she cycles through all four until she gets the right one.

  Evening

  Laura turned up unexpectedly and forced me off the sofa.

  She threw away my tube of Pringles and wouldn’t let me finish my chocolate bar until I’d got my running gear on. Then she dragged me out in the rain.

  Now we’re back I’m glad I went running. I feel great, actually. Really great. I should so make this a habit, even after the marathon. Not just for losing weight, but for feeling good too.

  Wednesday April 8th

  Alex and I went running again this evening.

  Nick was furious. I think he’s getting worried that I might win the bet.

  When unreliable Sadie was my running partner, the odds were much more in Nick’s favour.

  I have to admit, it’s very pleasant watching Alex running. He sort of glides along, barely touching the floor.

  His body is all toned and athletic in that ‘I’m a rich person, so my body could be in a magazine’ kind of way. And the burn on his arm, although an imperfection, shows just how perfect the rest of his body is.

  I suppose it’s no wonder Nick is jealous – every girl we ran past turned to stare at Alex.

  When we got back to the apartment, Alex said, ‘Well done Juliette. I’ll see you next week.’

  I was glowing when I came through the front door – it was the very first time I actually thought, yes, I could have a chance of finishing this marathon.

  Friday April 10th

  Baby book says Daisy should be rolling over by now.

  Bit worried.

  I keep trying to show her how to do it, but she just isn’t interested.

  She looks at me all happy, like I’m doing a funny trick.

  Althea says Wolfgang rolled over at three months. Probably there was some beef jerky nearby.

  Saturday April 11th

  Went round Helen and Henry’s today for more wedding planning.

  I hate Helen and Henry’s house.

  They live in a modern, gated complex for people who think they’re too good to mix with the rest of the village.

  It’s not as posh as the big country estates by the fishing lake (where the Daltons live). But it’s posher than the cosy centre of the village where my parent’s pub is.

  I quite like Henry, though. How he ended up with Helen I’ll never know. Maybe because she’s quite slim and looks good for her age. It blinded him to the fact that she’s a total harpy.

  Henry owns Great Oakley Plastics Factory (which makes toilet roll holders, but Helen says makes aeroplane parts), and is your typical jolly posh man who looks a little bit like Toad of Toad Hall.

  Helen’s always bossing him around.

  ‘Tuck your shirt in darling. Goodness, you look like a truck driver. You smell revolting darling, do go and have a shower …’

  He’s always running round trying to make her happy, but that’s impossible.

  They can’t have much of a relationship because Helen is always round our house. She has her evening meal at ours half the time – some horrible fishy salad she eats standing at the breakfast bar.

  Helen had a whole list of 36 wedding things to ‘discuss urgently’.

  Colour scheme, wedding favours, blah blah.

  I let her go through the list, and then I said, ‘You’ve forgotten something. Item number 37. Mind your own business.’

  Monday April 13th

  Found the best TV program ever!

  It’s called Love Rats. A TV crew film people cheating on their partners, then confront them with the damning footage.

  Nick rolled his eyes when he found me watching it. Went on about my low-brow taste in television.

  I think he’s in a bad mood because it’s the Actors’ Guild party tomorrow and he’s promised to take me along.

  He hates me going to his acting things because I’m too honest.

  Nick pretends to be this successful, cosmopolitan London actor, but the truth is his mum owns our flat and he hasn’t had a decent acting role in years.

  While Nick was tweezing his eyebrows and nose hair, he told me not to show any baby pictures at the party.

  I asked why not.

  He said, ‘For all anyone knows I could be in my twenties. The family-man image adds ten years.’

  I said, ‘Fine. I won’t show any pictures. As long as you don’t wear your sunglasses indoors.’

  He did his theatrical sigh and said, ‘I’ve told you a thousand times. Sunglasses are a look. Speaking of which, don’t you have anything that makes you look … less mumsy?’

  I shouted that I was a mother so looking mumsy was part of the deal.

  He said, ‘Fine, okay. Forget it. If you’re just going to get agro.’

  Bloody Nick. It’s okay for men. They stay exactly the same after they have kids. Women age ten years overnight.

  Tuesday April 14th

  Squeezed myself into pre-pregnancy grey skinny jeans for what turned out to be a horrible night.

  Couldn’t bend down all evening without making a weird, creaky groaning noise. When I tried to kiss Daisy I let out this ‘wheeee!’ sound.

  I couldn’t even do the jeans up without an elastic band around the button.

  With high heels on I thought I looked alright.

  But the effect was lost on Nick.

  He said, ‘Why are you walking like a robot?’

  While I was getting ready, Daisy managed to get hold of the toilet roll. God knows how – I moved everything in our bathroom to eye level ages ago. The shelf is like a game of Jenga – toilet brush, bathroom bin and scales all on top of each other.

  I don’t know if Daisy ate any toilet roll, but she was definitely giving it a good chew.

  Panicked about toilet roll in her digestive system.

  Phoned Mum.

  She said, ‘Toilet roll? You used to chew your dad’s fishhooks. And you turned out just fine.’

  I asked Mum what she thought about Helen babysitting Daisy.

  Mum said, ‘As long as Daisy’s asleep, what difference does it make who’s there?’

  I said, ‘But if she wakes up …’

  Mum said, ‘She won’t wake up.’

  But still, I didn’t like leaving Daisy with Helen.

  The party was really bad.

  It was full of flashy, beautiful people with bleached teeth. They all shouted, rather than spoke.

  ‘Oh BABY CAKES! I haven’t seen you in FOREVER!’

  All the men boomed at each other. ‘Ra Ra! Jonathan! Ra, ra ra!’

  And all the women clutched champagne glasses, tossed their hair and admired themselves in the shiny windows.

  Just as I was coming out of the loo, I bumped into Sadie. She goes to Actors’ Guild events sometimes, but I didn’t know she was going to this one.

  She said, ‘Why didn’t you warn me you and Nick were coming? If I’d have known lizard boy would be work
ing the room in his sunglasses I would have stayed away. Good lord! You’re wearing jeans? Why?’

  She was wearing a huge peacock-blue ball gown and holding a feathered masquerade mask in her hand.

  Then Helen rang saying I needed to come home.

  Daisy was wailing like a fire engine in the background.

  I felt like my heart was being yanked down the phone line.

  My little girl! My little girl!

  I shouted that I needed to get home right now.

  Sadie put on her sympathetic face. ‘The perils of motherhood. But how will Nick wipe his bottom when you’re gone?’

  Nick appeared behind Sadie and said, ‘Speaking of bottoms, I heard yours was photo-shopped for Elle. The photographer said he’d never seen an arse with acne before.’

  Sadie shouted, ‘I told my agent that was CONFIDENTIAL!’

  Got the tube across London and ran to the apartment like a crazy person.

  Somewhere on the way home, the rubber band on my jeans snapped.

  Helen opened her front door to find a frizzy haired, red-faced maniac with her jeans undone.

  I knew I looked bad, because Helen said, ‘Christ almighty!’

  Poor little Daisy was on her shoulder, totally red in the face, screaming her head off.

  Daisy reached out her arms when she saw me and fell straight to sleep on my shoulder.

  Helen said, ‘If you had a routine, this wouldn’t have happened.’

  I said, ‘If you had a maternal bone in your body, this wouldn’t have happened.’

  I started crying then. I don’t know why.

  Wednesday April 15th

  Got a massive telling-off from Nick about being rude to his mother.

  He’s such a hypocrite! He talks to her like the hired help.

  I tried to explain what happened, but he wasn’t having any of it. Just went on about how lucky we are and how grateful we should be for everything his mum does for us.

  I blew my top.

  I shouted that I wanted a place of our own. That we shouldn’t be relying on his mum like we do.

  And then it was same old, same old. Any day now. My break is coming. It’s SO hard being an actor. Blah blah blah.