The Other Woman(79)

‘Calm down,’ she said. ‘This might be what you both actually need. It’ll certainly show her that she can’t play around with you anymore. This is sticking two fingers right up.’ She gave a little snigger.

I understood the sentiment, but knew that the reality of having Pammie’s grandchild would mean that we were bound together for evermore. The thought terrified me.

‘I honestly can’t believe it, Pip,’ I said. ‘What am I going to do?’

‘Right, one step at a time. Talk to Adam tonight and, once we know his reaction, we can work it out from there. Okay?’

I nodded mutely.

‘Okay, Em?’

‘Yes, I’ll try and call you later if I can, otherwise it’ll be tomorrow morning.’

‘Cool,’ she said. ‘Ring me when you can.’

I ended the call and realized that I wasn’t even walking in the direction of the office. I’d missed Old Compton Street and walked straight on.

I made so many mistakes at work when I finally got there that my boss, Nathan, asked if I’d like to go home early. It struck me then, as he was talking to me, that I hadn’t taken any time off since the fall-out from the wedding. I’d had my usual two days a week off, but I’d declined Nathan’s offer to take a week’s holiday, which should have been the second half of my honeymoon, proclaiming that I was fine and just wanted to get on with it. I busied myself like never before, brushing off the drama of the wedding, and everything else that went with it, as an inconvenient blip. But in that moment, as he looked at me sympathetically, his head tilted to one side, it finally hit me. I needed a break, a rest from the monotony of commuting, from my demanding clients who each thought they were more important than the other thirty I had to deal with, even from the mundane chit-chat with colleagues, and having to keep up the pretence that all was good in my world. It wasn’t, and now I had an added problem. A big one.

‘We can manage,’ said Nathan encouragingly, sensing my hesitation.

I didn’t want him to manage. My ego wanted the entire business to fall apart without me there.

‘Go,’ he ushered. ‘Go take some time out.’

I needed to go, but didn’t want to. ‘You sound like an American life coach,’ I said, smiling.

‘If I have to pick you up and carry you out, I will.’ He laughed. ‘Get out of here.’

I gathered up the lip salve, Oyster card, and packet of chocolate digestives from my desk and slung my bag over my shoulder. ‘You sure?’ I asked him, one last time, as I headed out the door.

‘Go!’ he yelled after me.

It wasn’t yet four o’clock, so I headed over to the City on the Central line, hoping to catch Adam as he was about to leave the office. It somehow felt like it would be easier to tell him about the baby on neutral territory, a busy bar or restaurant, rather than in the solitude of home. I was hoping that the seriousness of the situation would feel less real, less daunting.

‘Hey,’ he said as he picked up the phone.

‘Hey,’ I replied hesitantly. ‘You leaving work soon?’

‘Just tying up one last thing, and then I’ll be on my way. Why? What’s up?’

‘Nothing,’ I said. When did I start lying so easily? ‘I’m at Bank, just wondered if you fancied meeting up for a drink before we go home.’

‘Great, I could do with a bevvy; I’ve had a shit day.’

I recoiled. Maybe if he’d already had a bad day, I should save my news for another time. For when he was more open-minded, relaxed. I immediately chastised myself for making the decision for him, and vowed to tell him regardless. I’d had a shit month, but it hadn’t stopped anyone heaping it on me, all the more.

‘Great,’ I said. ‘Meet you in the King’s Head in ten minutes?’

‘Perfect, see you then.’

I got there with six minutes to spare, enough time to have a drink and calm my nerves.

‘Can I get a large glass of Sauvignon Blanc, please?’ I said to the barman. I watched as he lifted a glass down from the rack above the bar, walked over to the under-counter fridge, and measured out a large vat of amber nectar. It was only when he put it down in front of me, its sweet aroma reaching my nostrils, that I was hit by the thunderous realization that I was carrying a baby.

‘Er, can I also get a tomato juice with that, please?’ I asked, almost apologetically.

He looked around at the space where I stood, correctly deducing that I was on my own.

‘That’s an interesting combo,’ he said.

I smiled and shook my head. God, was this what the next nine months was going to be like? Walking around with a stomach like a washing machine and a brain full of cotton wool?

‘Hi gorgeous,’ said Adam, as he came up behind me, and kissed me on the cheek. ‘You feeling any better?’

I shook my head, but he was already ordering a drink.

‘Pint of Fosters, please, mate.’

I smiled awkwardly while we waited, thankful for a few more minutes before I threw a grenade into Adam’s world. I watched him take three long gulps of his beer, as if it was water. He might need another one sooner than he thinks.

‘I’ve got something to tell you,’ I started.

Adam took one look at me and grabbed my hands. ‘Oh my God, you’re not ill, are you?’ he asked, panic flashing across his face. ‘Because if you are, I really don’t think I can cope.’