Shopaholic & Baby

“What?” I stare at him, uncomprehending. “You mean…at all?”

“Once, right at the beginning. But nothing since. They owe us…well, a lot.”

“But they can’t not pay you! People have to pay their bills! I mean, it’s against the—”

I break off, reddening. I’ve just remembered a few store card bills stuffed into my dressing table drawer, which I might not totally have paid yet.

But that’s different. I’m not a huge multinational company, am I?

“They’re notorious for this. We’ve been chasing them, threatening them….” Luke rubs his brow. “While we were still doing business, we were confident we’d get the money. Now, we may have to sue.”

“Well then, sue!” I say defiantly. “They won’t get away with it!”

“But in the meantime…” Luke lifts his cup, then puts it down again. “Becky, to be honest, things aren’t great. We expanded fast. Too fast, in hindsight. I have leases to pay, salaries to pay…we’re hemorrhaging money. Until we manage to get back on our feet again, cash flow is going to be an issue.”

“Right.” I gulp. Hemorrhaging money. That’s about the worst expression I’ve ever heard. I have a sudden horrible vision of money pouring out of a great hole, day after day.

“We’ll need to borrow more than I thought to buy the house.” Luke winces and takes a gulp of coffee. “It may delay things by a few weeks. I’ll call the agent today. I should be able to square it with everyone.”

He drains his cup and I notice a deep stress groove running between his brows which wasn’t there before. Bastards. They gave that to him.

“You still did the right thing, Luke.” I grab his hand and hold it tight. “And if it means losing a bit of money, well…so what?”

Just wait. Just you wait, Iain bloody Wheeler.

On impulse I get down off my stool, go round to Luke’s side of the counter, and put my arms around him as best as I can. The baby’s so huge it doesn’t really have room to jump around anymore, but it’s still squirming every now and then.

Hey, baby, I telegraph it silently. Don’t come out till I’ve had my baby shower, will you?

I read the other day that a lot of mothers experience a genuine communication with their unborn babies, so I’m trying to send it the odd little message of encouragement.

Tomorrow would be fine. Maybe lunchtime?

If you make it out in less than six hours, I’ll give you a prize!

“I should have listened to you, Becky.” Luke’s wry voice takes me by surprise. “You were the one protesting against Arcodas in the first place. And you never liked Iain.”

“Loathed him.” I nod.

No, I’m not telling you what the prize is. Wait and see.

There’s a ring at the buzzer and he lifts the receiver. “Hi, bring it up.” To me he says, “It’s a package.”

I stiffen. “A courier package?”

“Uh-huh.” He shrugs his coat on. “Are you expecting something?”

“Kind of.” I swallow. “Luke…you might want to see this package. It could be important.”

“It’s not more bed linen, is it?” Luke doesn’t look enthusiastic.

“No! It’s not bed linen! It’s—” I break off as the doorbell rings. “You’ll see.” I hurry into the hall.

“Package for you. Please sign here,” mumbles the courier as I open the door. I scribble on his electronic pad, grab the Jiffy bag, and turn to see Luke coming into the hall.

“Luke, I have something pretty major here.” I clear my throat. “Something which could…change things. And you need to be open-minded about where I got it….”

“Shouldn’t you give that to Jess?” Luke is squinting at the Jiffy bag.

“Jess?” I follow his gaze and for the first time see Miss Jessica Bertram typed on the label.

I feel a plunge of disappointment. It isn’t from Dave Sharpness after all, it’s some stupid thing for Jess.

“How come Jess is getting parcels delivered here?” I say, unable to hide my frustration. “She doesn’t live here!”

“Who knows?” Luke shrugs. “Sweetheart, I need to get going.” He runs his eyes over my swollen stomach. “But I’ll have my mobile on, and my pager…. If there are any signs at all…”

“I’ll call.” I nod, turning the Jiffy bag over in my fingers. “So, what am I supposed to do with this?”

“You can give it to Jess—” Luke stops himself. “Sometime. Whenever you see her next.”