“D’you think I’ll be a good mother, Suze?” The words pop out of my mouth before I even realize I’m thinking them.
“Of course!” Suze stares at me in the mirror. “You’ll be a brilliant mother! You’ll be kind, and you’ll be funny, and you’ll be the best-dressed one in the playground….”
“But I don’t know anything about babies. I mean, honestly, nothing.”
“Nor did I, remember.” Suze shrugs. “You’ll soon pick it up!”
Everyone keeps saying I’ll pick it up. But what if I don’t? I did algebra for three years, and I never picked that up.
“Can’t you give me some parenting tips?” I put away my mascara wand. “Like…things I should know.”
Suze wrinkles her brow in thought. “The only tips I can think of are the real basics,” she says at last. “You know, the ones that go without saying.”
I feel a twinge of alarm.
“Like what, exactly?” I try to sound casual. “I mean, I probably know about them already….”
“Well, you know.” She counts off on her fingers. “Things like having a bit of first aid knowledge…making sure you’ve got all your equipment…You might want to book a baby massage class….” She hoists Clementine onto her shoulder. “Are you doing Baby Einstein?”
OK, now I’m freaked out. I’ve never heard of Baby Einstein.
“Don’t worry, Bex!” says Suze hastily, seeing my face. “None of that really matters. As long as you can change a nappy and sing a nursery rhyme, you’ll be fine!”
I can’t change a nappy. And I don’t know any nursery rhymes.
God, I’m in trouble.
It’s another twenty minutes before Suze finishes feeding Clementine and hands her over to Tarquin.
“Right!” She closes the door behind him and turns with sparkling eyes. “No one’s about. Give me your wedding ring. I just need some string or something….”
“Here.” I rummage in my dressing table for an old Christian Dior gift-wrap ribbon. “Will this do?”
“Should do.” Suze is stringing the ribbon through the ring. “Now, Becky. Are you sure you want to know?”
I feel a flicker of doubt. Maybe Luke’s right. Maybe we should wait for the magical surprise. But then — how will I know what color pram to get?
“I want to know,” I say with resolution. “Let’s do it.”
“Sit back, then.” Suze knots the ribbon, meets my eye, and grins. “This is exciting!”
Suze is the best. I knew she’d have some way to find out. She dangles the ring above my stomach and we both stare at it, transfixed.
“It’s not moving,” I say in a whisper.
“It will in a minute,” Suze murmurs back.
This is so spooky. I feel like we’re at a séance and all of a sudden the ring will spell out the name of a dead person while a window bangs shut and a vase crashes to the floor.
“It’s going!” hisses Suze as the ring begins to sway on its ribbon. “Look!”
“Oh my God!” My voice is a muffled squeak. “What does it say?”
“It’s going round in circles! It’s a girl!”
I gasp. “Are you sure?”
“Yes! You’re having a daughter! Congratulations!” Suze flings her arms round me.
It’s a girl. I feel quite shaky. I’m having a daughter! I knew it. I’ve been having girl vibes all along.
“Becky?” The door opens and Mum is standing there, resplendent in purple sequins and matching lurid lipstick. “People will be here soon.” Her eyes shoot from Suze to me. “Is everything all right, love?”
“Mum, I’m having a girl!” I blurt it out before I can stop myself. “Suze did the ring test! It went in a circle!”
“A girl!” Mum’s whole face lights up. “I thought it looked like a girl! Oh, Becky, love!”
“Isn’t it great?” says Suze. “You’re going to have a granddaughter!”
“I can get out your old doll’s house, Becky!” Mum is suffused with delight. “And I’ll have the spare room painted pink….” She comes close and examines my bump. “Yes, look at the way you’re carrying it, love. It’s definitely a girl.”
“And watch the ring!” says Suze. She lifts the ribbon above my stomach again and steadies it. There’s utter stillness — then the ring starts moving back and forth. For a moment no one speaks.
“I thought you said a circle,” says Mum at last, puzzled.
“I did! Suze, what’s happening? Why’s it going back and forth?”
“I dunno!” She peers at the ring, her brow wrinkled. “Maybe it’s a boy after all.”
We’re all staring at my stomach as though we’re expecting it to start talking to us.
“You are carrying high,” says Mum eventually. “It could be a boy.”
A minute ago she said it looked like a girl. Oh, for God’s sake. The thing about old wives’ tales is, they’re actually total crap.
“Let’s go down anyway, loves,” Mum says, as music suddenly blasts from downstairs. “Keith from the Fox and Grapes has arrived. He’s making all sorts of fancy cocktails.”
“Excellent!” says Suze, reaching for her sponge bag. “We’ll be down in a sec.”
Mum leaves the room, and Suze starts applying makeup at speed while I watch in astonishment.