Greer was lying on her bed and smoothing oil onto her flat stomach in the hope of preventing stretch marks. The Giant Book of Babies – From conception to five years was next to her.
‘It says here that at six weeks the baby is the size of a lentil. Imagine.’ She stopped her massaging and clasped both hands across her abdomen. ‘A lentil.’
Jesse was cleaning his teeth in the newly painted bathroom (a nondescript colour called Pebble Putty, apparently). He stepped onto the landing and stuck his damp face round the bedroom door. ‘I don’t like lentils.’
Greer tutted silently and said more clearly, ‘I’m saying that the baby is the size of a lentil right now. And please remember to fold the towel and hang it on the towel heater.’
Jesse, safely back in the bathroom, pulled a face and mimicked her with childlike satisfaction. However, he did as instructed and turned out the bathroom light.
‘Did you put the loo seat down?’ she asked as he got into bed.
‘I think so.’
‘Well, can you check, because I need to pee so much in the night and I can’t stand the feeling of cold, probably wet, china to sit on.’
‘Turn the light on if you need to go.’
‘I don’t like to disturb you.’
Jesse disturbed himself and got out of bed and went to the bathroom to check on the loo seat. It was up. He closed it as quietly as he could and returned to bed.
Greer had stopped massaging her tummy and was rubbing hand cream into her hands with vigour. ‘Was the seat up?’
‘No.’
‘Well, thank you for checking.’ Greer had finished emolliating herself and kissed Jesse before turning her light out.
‘My pleasure.’
Jesse turned his light out and got himself comfortable.
Greer rolled towards him and snuggled in. ‘By the way,’ she said sleepily, ‘wonderful news about Mickey and Loveday.’
Jesse was immediately on his guard. ‘What news?’
‘Oh, you boys! I know you know. Loveday told me.’
‘Told you what?’
‘That she’s pregnant. It’s so sweet. They’ve been destined for each other ever since that first day at school.’
‘Oh, that. Yeah, Mickey told me.’
‘And the baby’s due at about the same time as this little one.’ She reached for his hand and pressed it against her stomach.
Jesse was thinking about the babies arriving at the same time. ‘So does that mean that she and Mickey were at it at the same time we were?’
‘Yes, I suppose so.’ Greer giggled. She felt Jesse’s body relax against her and assumed he wanted sex. ‘Now don’t get any ideas. You know how worried I am about hurting the baby. Maybe we can resume games in the second trimester.’
Jesse’s thoughts were far from sex, but he played along. ‘When’s that then?’
‘About another six weeks.’
*
Jesse chose a day when he knew that Mickey was in Bodmin, on an errand to pick up an ignition coil for Our Mermaid, to see Loveday. She opened the door to him in a short dressing gown that was at least two sizes too small for her. She looked awful.
‘Jesse,’ she said anxiously. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘Can I come in?’
Jesse filled the space of the small front room. He didn’t sit down but stood looking at her with such tenderness that it took all Loveday’s strength not to reach out and hold him.
‘How are you feeling?’ he asked her.
‘A bit shit. Sorry, I must look awful. I didn’t sleep very well and I keep being sick.’
‘Poor you.’ He touched her arm with his hand.
She stepped away and towards the tiny kitchen. ‘I was just about to put the kettle on. Want one?’
‘Yeah. OK.’
‘How’s Greer feeling? She said she was a bit tired.’
‘Yeah. She’s OK. Yeah.’
Loveday busied herself with taking mugs from the old kitchen cabinet. It was the type that had a pull-down worktop and cupboard space for larder items and crockery. He saw that she’d been making toast.
‘Had your breakfast then? That’ll help with the sickness, my mum says.’
The blue enamel kettle was whistling on the gas stove. Loveday poured water into her mother’s ancient brown teapot. And kept her back to him. ‘What are you doing here, Jesse?’
He moved towards her but she turned and stood with the hot kettle between them. ‘This baby is Mickey’s,’ she said.
‘Loveday, I’m not cross. I’d help you. If this baby is mine, no one need ever know, if that’s what you want.’
He wasn’t expecting her reaction to be so swift and angry. ‘So you’d let Mickey think this baby was his – which it is – and you’d be the big man secretly helping me out?’
Jesse nodded, feeling scolded and confused. ‘Yes. I would. Is that so bad?’
‘It’d be worse than cheating on your best friend … which you did.’
‘So did you.’
Loveday was angry. She slammed the kettle back on the metal stove. ‘I know I did. Don’t you think I regret it every minute? Every time I look at Mickey? Every time I look at Greer? Shit, Jesse, we did something terrible.’ She looked up at him, the anger draining away to be replaced by sheer horror and sadness at what they had both done – sleeping with each other’s best friend; sacrificing their own happiness. Tears started to spill from her eyes.
Jesse slowly stepped towards her and took her in his arms. ‘Hey, baby. It’s OK. It’s over. No one will ever know. I’m here for you. Always.’ She pushed him away and wiped her eyes furiously with the backs of her hands, and then tore off a sheet of kitchen roll to blow her nose.
‘You’re not the father,’ she snuffled.
‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes.’
‘How can you be so sure?’
‘The dates.’
Jesse shoved his hands into the pockets of his yellow waterproof jacket. ‘Well, in that case, congratulations … to you both.’
They heard the front door squeak open and Mickey’s voice calling, ‘Loveday, I’ve got a surprise for you! What are you doing on Wednesday the seventeenth?’
Mickey ducked through the doorway of the kitchen. ‘Hello, Jesse. This is lucky: I can kill two birds with one stone. What are both of you doing on Wednesday the seventeenth of March?’
He looked from one to the other and back again. ‘No? Can’t answer? Well, I’ll tell you what you are doing – you’re going to a wedding! We’ve got an appointment at the Register Office on Monday, then we have to wait fifteen days, but then …’ He bounced forward and squeezed Loveday into his arms. ‘You’re going to be Mrs Chandler, and Jesse – ’ he smiled at his best friend over the top of his wife-to-be’s head – ‘you’re going to be my best man!’
*
The Bodmin Register Office had a small and pretty marriage room. The walls were Doulton blue and the ceiling white. There was a large arrangement of silk flowers in a corner by the window, in front of which happy couples usually had their first photos taken as man and wife. There was room for only forty guests but, as neither bride nor groom could afford a large wedding, at least ten seats were empty.
Mickey and Jesse sat in front of the important-looking leather-topped table on which the registrar, a woman in her early forties with a chirpy smile and earrings to match, was laying out her various ledgers and pieces of paper.
Mickey had had a short back and sides and was wearing a new suit from Burton’s.
He was nervous and couldn’t keep his hands from checking his tie, his hair and eventually his pockets. The inside breast pocket yielded the washing instructions.
‘Machine washable at 40˚,’ he read. ‘That’s handy.’
‘Very,’ said Jesse, and the two men grinned at each other, enjoying the momentary distraction.
‘Do I look all right?’ Mickey asked.
‘You’ll do.’
‘Have you got the ring?’
‘Yes.’
‘At least I’m not pissed like you were.’
Jesse instantly flashed back to his wedding morning and the horrible secret he was keeping from Mickey. ‘If I can be half the best man and best mate you’ve been to me, I’ll be doing OK.’
Mickey shone his innocent smile at Jesse. ‘I’m so happy. I can’t believe that Loveday is actually going to marry me and that we have a baby on the way. This is the best day of my life.’
*
Outside, in the chilly anteroom, where brides could gather with their flotilla of bridesmaids and attendants, Loveday was taking deep breaths. Greer was rummaging in her bag for some Rescue Remedy.
‘Here,’ she said, holding up the small brown bottle and opening it to reveal the glass pipette. ‘Three drops under the tongue. Open wide.’
Loveday did as she was told and Greer dripped in the recommended amount, with another couple of drops for luck.
Loveday grimaced. ‘That’s bleddy brandy!’
‘It’s needed to preserve the delicate flower essences.’
‘We’re not supposed to drink, with the babies and all.’
‘This is medicinal. How are you feeling?’
‘A bit better. How do I look?’
Greer gave Loveday an inspection from head to toe and back again. The charity shop wedding dress was in good condition, but clearly bought at the height of the mania to imitate Princess Diana. Oddly enough it suited Loveday, who had the bust to fill it.
‘Have you lost weight?’ asked Greer who, in spite of being careful with what she was eating, had put on four pounds.
‘I have. I think it’s all that sickness.’
‘How much have you lost?’
‘About ten pounds.’
‘Well,’ Greer smiled thinly, ‘it suits you.’ Then, knowing that had sounded mean she added, ‘You look very nice. Very nice indeed.’
Loveday beamed. ‘Thank you. You look amazing in that dress too.’
‘Thank you. Can you see my bump? I feel huge.’ Greer stood sideways to let Loveday get a proper view.
‘No. But your bosoms are blossoming!’ Loveday gave an earthy laugh.
Greer pulled at the top of her stylish shift dress. ‘Oh God. I’m hoping they don’t droop.’
Loveday hoiked up her own breasts with gusto. ‘Mine were drooping when I was born.’
There was a knock at the door. The assistant registrar, a middle-aged man wearing glasses, popped his head round the door. ‘We are ready for the bride.’
Greer collected up her tiny clutch bag and a box of confetti and held out her hand to Loveday.
‘Are you ready to become Mrs Chandler, Miss Carter?’ she said before adding, ‘It’s not too late to say no, you know. In my capacity as best woman, it’s my duty to ask you.’
Loveday looked at her closest friend. So many people found Greer to be a bit cold, rather too pleased with herself and – to be frank – a snob, but Loveday knew Greer had a good heart and she felt such guilt that she could have betrayed her as she had. She had chosen Greer to give her away as a way of exorcising that night with Jesse and of consolidating their friendship again. She reached for Greer’s hand. ‘Bless you for taking my dad’s place and giving me away. Mum’s really chuffed too.’ This wasn’t true. Loveday’s mother had wanted to give her daughter away herself, but had deferred to Loveday’s wishes.
‘My pleasure,’ smiled Greer, swelling with importance. ‘Now pick up that bouquet and go get your man.’
*
The two women walked hand in hand down the short aisle. There were oohs and aahs from the small congregation as they pulled unruly toddlers onto laps and fished for tissues in their pockets. Loveday was well loved in Trevay and they were thrilled that she was marrying the man who adored her. This was true romance. A budget shotgun wedding with heart and a guaranteed happy ending.
Mickey gulped with emotion as he saw his bride in all her lacy finery. Loveday’s mother leant out into the aisle with a disposable camera and took two shots, winding each one on carefully, before starting to sniffle. Jesse stared straight ahead until Greer, who had delivered Loveday to Mickey’s side, slipped in next to him. She reached for his hand. He took hers as a drowning man would grasp at a life raft.
The registrar started. ‘Welcome, everybody, to the marriage of Michael and Loveday.’
Loveday took her vows and meant them. She was determined to do her best by Mickey and be the best wife to him that she could, no matter what had gone before.
*
The reception was a boozy, smoke-filled affair at the Golden Hind. As best man, Jesse had put plenty of money behind the bar as his wedding present to the couple. The buffet table was groaning under pasties and sausage rolls, and a good time was had by all.
Jesse’s speech was well judged, if short, and everyone agreed the day couldn’t have gone more smoothly. At least that was until the time for the reading of the telegrams.
Jesse had had a couple of pints and was relaxing. His best friend was married. Loveday was expecting her husband’s baby, and Greer was expecting his. The sky was not going to fall in, after all.
There were four telegrams. One from Mickey’s godmother, who now lived in New Zealand, and two from old friends of Loveday’s mother. It was the final one that struck like a sniper’s bullet. He started reading it before he’d checked who it was from. It was from his brother, Grant. 42 Commando had been deployed to Northern Iraq to ensure the security of Kurdish refugees. Somehow, Grant had managed to get a telegram out. It said: CONGRATULATIONS STOP HOPE THE BABY DOESN’T LOOK LIKE HIS DADDY STOP DRINKS WHEN I GET HOME STOP REGARDS BIG G STOP
Jesse couldn’t help flicking his eyes towards Loveday, who looked as if she might faint. Did Grant know what they had done? Why had he put that?
Mickey was on his – unsteady – feet now and was clapping Jesse on the back. ‘Typical of your fucking brother. What a wind-up merchant.’ Mickey was laughing and so was the rest of the pub. Jesse laughed nervously and again looked over at Loveday, who had been collared by a tipsy auntie. Jesse did the only thing he could think of and hauled Mickey to the bar to get smashed.