“Hello?” I say joyfully into it.
“Mrs. Brandon? It’s Diane from Venetia Carter’s office here.”
“Oh!” I stiffen, and glance at Luke. “Er…hello.”
“We just wanted to let you know that the vacancy has arisen on Dr. Carter’s books. She would be very pleased to see you — and your husband if you wish — on Thursday at three P.M.”
“Right,” I say, a little breathless. “Um…yes, please. I’ll be there! Thank you very much!”
“Not at all. Good-bye, Mrs. Brandon.”
The line goes dead and I switch the phone off with trembling hands. I’ve got a place with Venetia Carter! I’m going to meet celebrities and have holistic Thai massage!
Now I just have to break the news to Luke.
“Who was that?” says Luke, turning on the radio. He frowns at the digital display and presses a couple of buttons.
“It was…um…” I drop my phone accidentally-on-purpose on the floor and bend down to retrieve it.
It’ll be fine. He’s in a good mood about the house and everything. I’ll just tell him and that will be that. And if he starts objecting, I shall point out that I’m a grown-up mature woman who can choose her own medical care. Exactly.
“Er…Luke.” I sit up again, a bit red in the face. “About Dr. Braine.”
“Oh, yes?” Luke pulls into another lane. “By the way, I told my mother we’d organize a dinner with him and David.”
A dinner? Oh God, this gets worse. I have to tell him, quick.
“Luke, listen.” I wait until he slows down behind a truck. “I’ve been thinking very hard and doing some research.”
Research sounds good. Even if it was just reading a piece about Hollywood baby trends on fashionmommies.com.
“And the thing is…” I swallow. “I want to go to Venetia Carter.”
Luke makes an impatient noise. “Becky, not this again. I thought we’d agreed—”
“I’ve got a place with her,” I say in a rush. “I’ve made an appointment. It’s all fixed up.”
“You’ve what?” He brakes at a traffic light and turns to face me.
“It’s my body!” I say defensively. “I can see whoever I like!”
“Becky, we are lucky enough to have one of the most respected, renowned obstetricians in the country looking after you, and you’re messing around with some unknown woman.”
“For the millionth time, she’s not unknown!” I exclaim in frustration. “She’s huge in Hollywood! She’s modern and she’s in touch, and she does these amazing water births with lotus flowers….”
“Lotus flowers? She sounds a total bloody charlatan.” Luke angrily jabs his foot down on the accelerator. “I won’t have you risking the health of yourself and the baby.”
“She won’t be a charlatan!”
I should never have mentioned the lotus flowers. I might have known Luke wouldn’t understand.
“Look, darling…” I try a different tack. “You always say, ‘Give people a chance.’”
“No, I don’t.” Luke doesn’t even miss a beat.
“Well, then, you should!” I say crossly.
We stop at a zebra crossing and a woman walks across with a really cool green space-age-looking pram on high wheels. Wow. Maybe we should get one of those. I squint, trying to see what the logo is.
It’s amazing, I never used to even notice prams before. Now I can’t stop checking them out, even when I’m in the middle of a row with my husband.
Discussion. Not row.
“Luke, listen,” I say as we move off again. “In my book it says the pregnant woman should always follow her instincts. Well, my instincts are saying really strongly, ‘Go to Venetia Carter.’ It’s nature telling me!”
Luke is silent. I can’t tell if he’s frowning at the road or at what I’m saying.
“We could just go once to check her out,” I say appeasingly. “One little appointment. If we hate her we don’t have to go back.”
We’ve reached Mum and Dad’s drive. There’s a big silver banner over the door, and a stray helium balloon reading Happy 60th Birthday, Jane! lands lightly on the bonnet as we pull in.
“And I got us the house,” I can’t help adding. Even though I know it isn’t strictly relevant.
Luke parks the car behind a van with OXSHOTT SPECIAL EVENTS printed on the side and finally turns to face me.
“OK, Becky.” He sighs. “You win. We’ll go and see her.”
FOUR
TO SAY THAT MUM IS EXCITED about the baby is a bit of an understatement. As we get out of the car she flies across the drive, her hair blow-dried for the party, her face all pink with excitement.
“Becky! How’s my little grandchild!”
She doesn’t even bother looking at my face anymore. Her attention is straight on the bump. “It’s getting bigger! Can you hear Grandma?” She bends closer. “Can you hear Grandma?”
“Hello, Jane,” says Luke politely. “Maybe we could come in?”
“Of course!” She snaps up again and ushers us inside the house. “Come in! Put your feet up, Becky! Have a cup of tea. Graham!”
“I’m here!” Dad appears down the stairs. “Becky!” He gives me a tight hug. “Come and sit down. Suze is here with the children—”
“Already!” I exclaim in delight. I haven’t seen Suze for ages. I follow my parents into the sitting room to find Suze on the sofa next to Janice, Mum and Dad’s next-door neighbor. Her blond hair is up in a knot and she’s breast-feeding one of her twins. Meanwhile Janice is wriggling uncomfortably, clearly trying very hard not to look.