The Other Woman(85)

Seb was coming towards me across the landing, his face like thunder. ‘If you’ll excuse me,’ he said, as he went past.

‘Seb, please,’ I said, going to grab his arm, but instead of walking down the stairs and out of the flat, he walked straight into our bedroom.

‘What is your problem?’ he said, squaring up to Adam.

‘Seb, leave it,’ I pleaded, as I watched Adam pull himself up to his full height, his expression disbelieving.

I pulled him back, and Adam smirked. ‘Didn’t think you had it in you,’ he hissed, though which of us he was talking to, I don’t know.

‘She’s too good for you,’ said Seb, as I steered him out of the room.





41

There was a constant succession of visitors to the house when I came home from hospital with Poppy. My parents, Pippa, Seb, and even James, popped in with a baby-pink hamper full of goodies. ‘Well done,’ James said tenderly, as he kissed my forehead, just as Adam had done in the operating theatre when they cut Poppy from my stomach. Our plan for a water birth went out the window after sixteen hours of labour resulted in Poppy getting distressed.

I welcomed them all in a blur; all the time, waiting, dreading Pammie’s visit. She’d not wanted to come for the first three days, as she had a cold and didn’t want to infect the baby. But I wished she’d just get it over and done with, so I could relax and enjoy my time with Poppy.

‘You okay if Mum comes up tomorrow?’ asked Adam, just as Pippa went out the door. ‘She’ll probably stay for the night, and I’ll drop her back the next morning.’

I groaned. ‘I’m exhausted, can’t you take her back tomorrow evening before tea?’

‘Come on, Em,’ he said. ‘This is her first grandchild, and she’s the last to meet her as it is. She might even have her uses.’

That was exactly what I was frightened of. I looked at Poppy’s perfect face, her big eyes staring up at me, and felt a shudder run through me. ‘I’d really rather she went home,’ I said. ‘Please.’

‘I’ll give her a call, see how it goes,’ he said. ‘I won’t offer if she doesn’t ask.’

I knew even before he came back into the room that the conversation hadn’t gone my way.

‘So, I’ll go and get her around midday and take her back the next morning.’

‘You tried hard,’ I said under my breath.

If he heard me, he didn’t react. ‘I’m going to pop down the pub later, wet the baby’s head and all that,’ he said. ‘You’ve not got a problem with that, have you?’

Was he asking me, or telling me? Either way, he’d posed it in such a way that it would make me look possessive and controlling if I dared say yes.

‘What’s the face for?’ he said tightly. ‘It’s just a quick drink, for Christ’s sake.’

Funny, I’d not even said anything, but he was happy to start an argument with himself, just so he’d feel vindicated in going.

‘When was that arranged, then?’ I asked.

He tutted. ‘Just in the last day or so. Mike suggested a drink, and all the others have just latched on to it. It’s a rite of passage.’

I was well aware of the tradition, so why he was trying to justify it to himself, heaven only knows. I could feel my hackles going up, not because he was going out, but because he was being so defensive about it. He felt guilty, yet he was trying to turn it on me, making me out to be the bad guy.

‘Okay, cool,’ I said indifferently. ‘Try not to be too long though, as I could use some help getting the place ready for your mum.’

When he wasn’t home by midnight, I didn’t think it was unreasonable to give him a call. Poppy wasn’t settling and, in between feeding, rocking and bathing, I was struggling to get anything else done.

‘I’ll call you back,’ I heard him slur, when he answered on the fourth ring. There was a lot of background noise, chattering, clinking of glasses, and loud music.

‘Adam?’ The line went dead.

Ten minutes later, he still hadn’t, so I rang him again.

‘Yep,’ was all he could offer when he picked up. It sounded quieter now, and I could hear his breath cutting out, as if he was drawing on something and then exhaling.

‘Adam?’

‘Yes,’ he said, sounding impatient, as if he had somewhere he had to be. ‘What is it?’

I fought to stay calm, even though Poppy was screaming her head off, and my new mummy brain was struggling to keep everything in perspective. ‘Just wondering how much longer you’re going to be,’ I said.

‘Why? Am I missing something?’

I forced myself to breathe deeply. ‘No, I just wanted to know whether I should go to bed.’

‘Well, are you tired?’ I could tell from his tone that he was trying to be facetious.

‘Yes, I’m shattered.’

‘So, what are you waiting for?’

‘Forget it,’ I said, my patience running out. ‘You do what the hell you like.’

‘Thank you, I will,’ I heard him say before I put the phone down.

I could’ve ranted and raved, but he was too drunk to care, and it would only have made me upset. He could stay out as long as he liked, if he was just going to be a pain in the arse. He’d only be a hindrance if he was drunk, and I had enough on my plate with worrying about Pammie’s impending arrival.