Page 110 of Did My Love Life Shrink in the Wash?
And then, just like magic from behind a curtain, Harry appears. ‘They won’t give us a refund but I got the photo for free at least. Scammers.’
He holds a Christmas family photo in a cardboard frame and I realise they’re all matching in Fair Isle jumpers. He scans my face, trying to work out who I am; when the moment drops so does his expression.
‘You’re the Special K baby,’ he says.
‘Well, I’m not. He is.’ I point a finger down to Joe. ‘I’m Beth. I’m a friend of Yasmin’s.’
Harry glares at me. He’s aware I know about the kiss but not much else. Well, I know you didn’t go to the hospital when Yasmin was scared, that you used her for sex, and dealt a million promises which you never followed through on. The power I have here is ridiculously nerve-wracking – it’s life-changing – but I read Harry’s wife’s face. It says,Don’t say anything more. Not here, not now. My kids are here.
‘Oh yeah, Yasmin. How is she?’ he asks casually.
‘Pregnant. She’s nearly into the second trimester so I hope the pregnancy will go more smoothly for her now,’ I say calmly, looking into his wife’s eyes.
She nods. Harry pauses, his neck rippling, having to swallow that information. I assume he thought the cheque paying Yasmin off to get rid of the baby would have worked. Harry’s wife looks at me, her eyes still and pensive, trying to piece all of this together.
‘I didn’t realise you and her were friends?’ he says, looking me up and down.
‘Well, she’s single now so I’m just helping her out. She was abandoned by the baby’s father.’
Harry’s complexion gets paler.
‘Well, you know models. They get about, it’s a wonder she knows who the father is,’ he adds.
We’re in a corridor pasted with bin liners and fairy lights to represent the winter night sky and at this present moment, I want to disrupt this silent night and karate kick his head with my baby attached to my front. My physical limitations curb this desire for the moment but God, what a complete and utter shitbag. Harry’s wife appears to still be processing everything, and I try to make eye contact with her again. She deserves my respect in all of this, no one else.
‘Well, we have a table reserved for 1p.m. We should go.’ Harry doesn’t even say goodbye as he meanders off with their son, his wife lingering with the buggy. She takes a deep breath.
‘Well, Beth and Joe. I hope you have a lovely Christmas. It was nice to meet you,’ she says.
‘Likewise.’
Her reaction is totally mellow, calm.I will not break down here, in front of a virtual stranger.She looks up and around this corridor we find ourselves in. ‘This was really quite awful, wasn’t it?’
I nod.
‘This was Harry’s job but he left it too late to book anywhere decent so here we are,’ she says. ‘Bye, Beth. If you see Yasmin, wish her a good Christmas from me too.’ Then she heads off. I stand there slightly stunned, only flinching when I feel Grace’s hand to my shoulder.
‘Where did you go?’
I’m not really sure, if I’m honest.
‘That was Harry and his wife.’
Her eyes open widely realising what must have unfolded. We, the sisters, really need to do quieter work.
‘Are you OK? Was it weird? Shit…’
‘I think she already knew?’ I tell Grace.
‘Double shit. Did she confront you?’
‘No. But that was really random. Can we go now?’ I ask. I’m suddenly exhausted, overwhelmed, and my mind running over whether to tell Yasmin and how.
‘We might have to skedaddle anyway. Emma’s complaining to the management about crap Santa and Lucy drew an icing penis on a cookie.’
The fairy lights in the corridor suddenly crackle and Grace and I bend down to take cover. Children emerge from a corridor in floods of tears, rowing over candy canes. Through a crack in a door, I see crap Santa on his break, downing a can of Red Bull and rearranging his balls. He looks at me and puts a thumb up. Really, Santa?
Track Twenty-Four
