Marilyn is extremely apologetic about the disastrous dinner party. She sends my mum and I a muffin basket each, along with a gorgeous bouquet of flowers and an apology note from Donald.
‘I’ll say one thing for the woman,’ Mum says as she peels the paper casing off a blueberry one. ‘The dinner party might’ve been a complete wash-out, but she does an apology in style.’
I chuckle as I reach into the basket for a chocolate one. ‘She knows the way to a pregnant lady’s heart anyway!’
Although I’ve had twenty-four hours to forget about it, I can’t stop thinking about what Scott said. Donald’s insinuations mean nothing; he’d had too much to drink and probably didn’t mean any of them. But to hear Scott say it would be better for us to be apart hurt more than I could ever have imagined.
Worst thing is, it’s all my fault.
I didn’t listen to what really happened with Kayleigh, I kicked him out and I wouldn’t admit to myself that I still love him. Now, it’s too late. He doesn’t want to be with me anymore. Although we’ve shared two kisses since we split up, he’s obviously had time to think and has decided it’d be better not to get back together.
‘Are you OK, love?’ Mum asks. ‘You look like you’re a million miles away.’
I nod, trying to ignore the imaginary knife twisting itself in my heart. I’ll just have to face facts: Scott Robinson doesn’t want to be with me anymore.
*
The next two weeks go by in a blur. My sixteen-week appointment goes well: my blood pressure measures normal and there’s absolutely nothing to worry about. I also start counselling sessions to manage my body dysmorphia and eating disorder. Although I’m a little shy at opening up to a total stranger at first, it feels good to talk about my feelings with someone.
‘I just felt so huge and disgusting when I saw my bump growing,’ I admit, gripping the arms of the chair I’m sitting in to ground myself. ‘I knew it was a sign the baby was healthy and growing as he or she should be, but I … I could hardly bear to look at myself. I felt like everyone would be looking at me and judging me. It took almost losing the baby for me to realise I needed help. God, that sounds bad doesn’t it?’
My therapist Evelyn shakes her head. ‘It doesn’t sound bad at all, Cleo, and there’s no shame in admitting that your pregnancy has brought your body dysmorphia back to the fore again. You’ve recognised that you need help and booked this session today; that’s a really important step. We’ll take what you did in your previous round of body dysmorphia therapy and build on that to help you have a happy and healthy pregnancy.’
She lets me talk at length about my fears and concerns, including some I didn’t know I had until they came tumbling out. I tell her how worried I am that the baby will somehow adopt my struggles with eating and body dysmorphia. Evelyn nods, listens, and tells me not to worry. She says my concerns are valid, but that I’ve come a long way since my issues had a vice-like grip on me. I’ve managed to make lots of positive changes and there’s no reason why I can’t pass those changes onto the baby, as they grow older. We schedule regular sessions throughout my pregnancy to make sure I have all the support I need. It feels like a weight off my shoulders; although I’ll probably still struggle to adapt to all the changes my body is going through, knowing I have support is a huge relief.
Then before I know it, it’s time for Scott to move in.
I take the day off from work to help him move his stuff in. We make several trips to and from his car, carrying boxes and bags and dotting them around the house. At first, he tries to put me on tea-making duties until I remind him that I’m more than capable of helping him out.
‘I’m pregnant,’ I say, ‘I don’t have two broken legs!’
‘OK, but don’t lift anything heavy,’ he says with a grimace. ‘I don’t want you hurting yourself or the baby.’
It doesn’t take too long for us to move all his worldly possessions into the house. It takes up most of the living room floor space, but I don’t really mind.
‘You have way more stuff than I remember,’ I say, stepping over a pile of carrier bags so I can sit down. ‘Have you started hoarding since you moved out of here?’
He chuckles as he makes himself comfortable next to me. ‘Nope, I just have a lot of cool stuff I didn’t bring with me the first time around. I put it into storage because I wanted to be a good boyfriend and not take up too much space. Now that we’re just roommates though, I can have it here. At least until the baby comes, when we’ll need extra room. Look at this, it’s a die cast replica of a Stormtrooper from Star Wars!’
As he rummages in one of the carrier bags at his feet, I heave a sigh. There he goes again with the ‘we are never ever getting back together’ stuff. He seemed so sure that he wanted to give us another try before, so why has he completely changed his mind? There hasn’t been time to properly talk to him about what he said at the dinner party; we’ve both been working and our main focus has been on which appointment we have to attend and when.
If we’re going to be living together though, I’ll have to be brave and find out where I stand.
‘Scott …’ I take a deep breath and pull my imaginary big girl panties on. ‘Can we talk … about what you said at your mum’s house?’
His whole body tenses and his cheeky grin vanishes in an instant. ‘I’d rather forget that night ever happened, to be honest. I haven’t properly spoken to Donald after what he said to you. Did you get a muffin basket from my mum, by the way?’
I chuckle and nod. ‘The chocolate ones were my favourite. I think since we’re living together, we should at least talk about what happened. Just to clear the air.’
He screws his eyes shut and bites down on his lip. ‘You’re right. I didn’t mean it to come out the way it did, Cleo, and I’m really sorry about that.’
When he doesn’t say anything else, like he didn’t mean it or I heard it wrong, I get a feeling of dread in the pit of my stomach.
‘But you think it’d be better if we didn’t get back together.’ I don’t phrase it as a question; I know in my heart that it’s true.
He hangs his head and laces his fingers at the base of his neck. ‘It’s not that I don’t love you anymore … I do, I love you so much. I just think the baby has to come first. We’ve been doing really well as friends and I don’t want to ruin that. When I first got back from Australia, I was so determined to win you back so everything could go back to the way it was. Then I found out about the baby and I thought it would be the perfect thing to bring us back together. But we can’t get back together for the sake of the baby, not when we know we’re capable of giving it a loving, stable upbringing as we are right now. When we kissed those couple of times, it confused things and that’s not fair on either of us. So … yeah, I think it’d be better if we didn’t get back together.’
I can hear blood pounding in my ears and a salty tang appears on my tongue. Tears threaten but I manage to stop them in their tracks.
‘Well, that’s fine!’ I choke out, my voice a lot thicker than I anticipated. ‘Y-you’re right, the baby does have to come first. And we have been doing really well at the friend thing. No, I think we’re doing the right thing for the three of us.’
And the award for Best Actress goes to…
‘I won’t be seeing anyone else,’ he says, patting my knee. ‘And I’d certainly never bring a woman back here either. You and the baby are my top priority, and you always will be. Just because we aren’t together, that doesn’t mean I’ll stop caring about you.’
I nod, hoping with all I have that my emotions aren’t currently showing on my face. ‘It probably goes without saying, but I won’t be dating for the foreseeable future either! I just wanted to ask if … Well, when you said it’s better to be apart and happy than to stay together and be miserable, did you mean you were miserable when we were a couple?’
‘Of course not,’ he says, sitting up to look me square in the face. ‘I absolutely loved being with you, Cleo. It was the best year of my life, and I’m really glad we’re still in each other’s lives. You’ll always be my best friend.’
In my head, I can see the ticker tape parade as I’m elected Mayor of the Friend Zone.
*
Amanda Best makes her grand return to Silverdale on a crisp autumn morning. The first sign of her I see is when I’m walking across the village green to work and I see a moving truck outside Rose Cottage, a beautiful candy-pink house near my parents’ cottage. A team of removal men is hauling boxes out of the truck, while the lady herself gives out the instructions. She was always good at that, getting people to do her bidding. When she turns around, I can see her prominent bump showing through her More Issues Than Vogue jumper. Mine is a little less visible but, at nearly twenty weeks, there’s plenty of time for it to grow. I’m almost looking forward to having a nice, round bump now. Almost.
She catches sight of me, and sprints across the village green, wrapping me in a tight hug when she reaches my side.
‘I’m baaaaaack!’ she announces, gesturing around her in a typical theatrical style. ‘Isn’t this crazy? Did you ever expect to see me back in Silverdale?’
I give an uneasy chuckle. ‘Nope, this is a surprise alright! Are you happy to be back? That’s a lovely bump you’ve got there.’
She looks down at it and beams with pride. ‘I didn’t think I’d like having one, but it’s absolutely amazing. It’s just a reminder that the pregnancy’s going how it should be, I guess.’
I notice she avoided answering my question about being back in Silverdale, but decide not to press the issue. Amanda doesn’t react well to being pushed.
‘I took a bit of time to get used to mine,’ I admit. ‘I’m having some counselling sessions to help me manage my eating disorder and body dysmorphia. They’ve really helped so far.’
A wistful smile crosses her lips. I guess she’s thinking about when she used to bully me over those very things back in high school.
I reach out and touch her arm. ‘It’s good to see you back, you know. I bet you never thought you’d hear me say that!’
She chuckles. ‘You’re the last person I thought would be happy to see me here again! Still … High school was a long time ago, wasn’t it? And we’ve changed so much since then.’
‘Exactly,’ I reply, taking a moment to choose my next words carefully. ‘Amanda, I don’t … I don’t think about what happened in high school anymore. I’ve put it behind me and you should too, especially since you’re back here. We’re going to be bump buddies, remember?’
That brings a bright smile to her face. ‘Are you still up for prenatal yoga? There’s a class on in Manchester next week if you fancy it?’
‘I’d love to,’ I reply. ‘Although I’m not sure how good I’ll be!’
I peer over her shoulder, expecting to see the mysterious Steve directing the removal men, but they seem to have been left to their own devices.
‘Is, er, Steve here helping you today?’ I ask, proceeding with a degree of caution. I don’t want to appear intrusive.
The colour drains from Amanda’s face and she starts chewing on her thumbnail. ‘No … he’s working today, so it’s just me. It’s OK though, the removal guys know what they’re doing.’
The look on her face tells me not to go any further because she clearly doesn’t want to reveal any more. What is she hiding?
‘I’d … better go,’ I say, hooking my thumb over my shoulder. ‘I’m running late for work. You could pop in later and pick up a cake if you like? I could put one aside for you.’
She gives a vague nod, but I can tell her mind is elsewhere. She mumbles something about making sure the removal men don’t break anything and heads back across to Rose Cottage.
I watch her for a moment, wrapping her thick coat round herself and staring off into the distance. She has a secret, but I can’t quite work out what it might be.
*
Coming home to Scott at the end of the day feels strange yet familiar in equal measure. Having him there feels exactly how it did when we were together, but it’s strange knowing we’ll likely never be a couple again.
‘Honey, I’m home,’ I say with a chuckle, throwing my jacket over the banister. The delicious smell of cooking hits me and as I make my way to the kitchen, I see he’s cooking spaghetti carbonara.
‘How was work?’ he asks with a smile, taking his attention off the oven for a moment.
The familiarity makes me ache inside, but I push past it by remembering our conversation about our relationship. This isn’t about us anymore; it’s about the baby.
‘Good, thanks. I saw Amanda on my way over this morning. She’s moving into Rose Cottage.’
His smile falls away and I see his jaw clench a little. ‘And how was she? Was she OK with you?’
I nod. ‘She invited me to prenatal yoga next week. I don’t think things are right with her though. Remember she mentioned a guy called Steve when we saw her at the hospital a couple of months ago? She said he was working while she was going for her scan and now today, when they’re supposed to be moving into a new house, he wasn’t there again.’
Scott frowns as he tends to the pan with chicken, ham and carbonara sauce. ‘Sounds pretty suspicious, but maybe he just works a lot. New baby to get ready for and everything. Anyway, you know what Amanda’s like.’
‘Exactly,’ I say, taking a seat at the kitchen table. ‘Last year, she had me believing she had some high-powered financial job when she’d been put on gardening leave! She likes everyone to believe her life’s perfect, even if it isn’t. I’m quite worried about her, Scott. Pregnancy’s hard enough without going through it by yourself.’
Picturing Amanda struggling through the physical, mental and emotional demands of having a baby by herself brings a lump to my throat. No matter what’s happened between us in the past, nobody deserves to do this alone.
‘Try and ask her about it when you go to prenatal yoga together,’ he suggests as he dishes up two delicious-smelling plates of food. ‘I can’t quite see you two as pregnancy buddies though!’
I chuckle. ‘It’s bump buddies actually! I’ll admit we’re pretty unlikely bump buddies, but I think she could use a friend right now.’
Scott takes a seat opposite me and smiles. ‘You’re too bloody nice for your own good sometimes you know that? One of your many amazing qualities.’
A companionable silence falls over the table as we tuck into our food. I try to ignore the way my heart flutters whenever our eyes meet and the butterflies that appear when he smiles.
We’re just friends who are having a baby together.
And that’s all we’re ever going to be.