Page 80 of The Flowers of Bay C
‘Jake’s father, yes. He’s never been any kind of dad to him, though. Never even laid eyes on him. Ran off with my so-called best friend and decided he didn’t want to be burdened with a kid.’
‘Bastard.’
‘Right?’ I lean my head on hers. ‘But you see, it was the same. He said the same things to me, about loving me I mean, about doing anything for me. Always made me believe it was me in the wrong. Made me think I could never be enough, or do enough, to deserve him.’
Jodie picks her fingernails.
‘But it’s him who didn’t deserve you,’ Kat says.
‘I never thought that,’ I say. ‘I always thought he was right. Thought it for years, that somehow it was some, I don’t know, kind of like a deficiency in me, that I hadn’t managed to keep hold of him, this man who seemed to want the best for me.’
‘But he wanted the best for himself.’
‘Yeah, I guess. And that’s just what I see, in Kane. He’s only all about Kane.’
‘But, he always says he loves me.’ Jodie’s voice is devoid of its usual colour. ‘He calls me his princess, see.’
Kat snorts. ‘That’s ’cause he sees himself as some kind of prince, like some kind of saviour dude. He wants any glory for himself.’
‘That was Marcus, too,’ I say softly. ‘Kept making it about him, and then it was too late, before I saw him for who he was. I thought I was lucky, see, thought any woman would want someone like him, so charming, so handsome, so thought it was my fault when he… when he did stuff. Took me a long time to realise it wasn’t, to be honest with you, even now I still think like that, sometimes.’
???
It’s Christmas when it happens. I am newly pregnant, and bursting with excitement about telling Marcus. We haven’t planned this, it just happened, probably because I wasn’t careful enough. Maybe I forgot my pill or something. But I know how excited he will be, how he will whirl me in his arms and tell me that I am beautiful and that he can’t wait to be a daddy. When I pee on the stick and see the blue cross stark against the white plastic my pulse speeds up, and just for a moment I panic, but then joy sweeps through me like a wave of warmth.
He comes in from work late. He’s been busy with clients toning up for Christmas parties, working until late into the evening, bringing in the money that means I can be kept in style, living in his sumptuous flat with its view over the town and out to the hills.
He’s gruff with me tonight. I’ve prepared his favourite meal, medium-rare steak with hand-cut chips. I used to be vegetarian before I met Marcus, but he told me it was making me unhealthy and that it was important we ate together and developed the same tastes, so I started eating meat again. I don’t ever tell him that I don’t much like it, because it would hurt him and I don’t want to do that. So I keep quiet and force the meat down. It’s good for me. Lately, though, I’ve been wondering, I’ve been thinking about asserting myself. Maybe he will be proud of me, just another step along the way to the new me he has created.
‘What’s up with you?’
I’m twitchy, perching on the edge of my seat, wringing my hands under the table. For some reason I’m nervous to tell him this news that will change our world. I can’t seem to find the right words for it.
I shrug. ‘Nothing. Just… I just—’
‘Spit it out.’
I gulp in a breath and exhale slowly. ‘I just have something totell you.’
He stabs his fork into a great hunk of steak and shoves it into his mouth. ‘What?’ he says, around his loud chewing, one eye on his phone on the table. I flinch for a second as a wave of nausea pummels through my body.
I bite down on my lip.
‘Out with it,’ he says. ‘What excitement do you have for me today? Did the kettle break down? Did you finally hoover my office? Did you manage more than half-an-hour of your Davina fitness DVD without collapsing on the floor like a great beached whale?’
My mouth is dry.
He looks at me, scowling so loudly it is almost audible. ‘Are you going to tell me, or what?’
‘I’m pregnant.’
He doesn’t respond for a few moments. He stares into my eyes, then back at his dinner, then into my eyes again and his eyes are fading into pinpricks of ice. My stomach lurches as cold reality hits me in the face. How long will I keep lying to myself about him? About our relationship?
‘What?’
‘I’m pregnant. Look. Here.’ I dig out the test stick I’m sitting on, wrapped up in a ribbon earlier in my eager excitement.
‘What is that?’
