Luke isn’t sleeping well either at the moment, and it’s all because of the Arcodas situation. He’s been talking to his lawyers every day, and having consultations with his staff, and has endlessly tried to set up a meeting with the Arcodas senior team to have it all out. But Iain has canceled twice with no notice — and then he disappeared off on some trip. So nothing’s resolved yet, and the longer it all goes on, the tenser Luke gets. It’s like we’re both on some ticking fuse, just…waiting.
I’ve never been good at waiting. For babies, or phone calls, or sample sales…or anything.
The only positive thing right now is that Luke and I are about a million times closer than we have been for months. We’ve talked about everything over the past week. His company, plans for the future…one night we even got out all the honeymoon photos and looked through them again.
We’ve talked about everything…except Venetia.
I tried. I tried to tell him what she was really like, over supper, after we got back from the hospital that day. But Luke was just incredulous. He said he still couldn’t believe that Venetia said she and he were having an affair. He said they were genuinely just old friends — and maybe I’d made a mistake or misinterpreted what she meant.
Which made me want to hurl my plate at the wall and shout, “How stupid do you think I am?” But I didn’t. It would have turned into a big row, and I really didn’t want to ruin the evening.
And I haven’t pushed the subject since then. Luke’s so hassled, I can’t bring myself to. As he says, we never have to see Venetia again if we don’t want to. He’s given her notice as a PR client, Dr. Braine will deliver the baby, and Luke’s promised he won’t make any plans to meet up with her. As far as he’s concerned, it’s a brief chapter of our life which has closed.
Only…I can’t close it. Deep down, I’m still obsessed. I didn’t make a mistake. She did say that she and Luke were having an affair. She nearly ruined our marriage — and now she’s just getting away with it.
If I could just see her…if I could tell her what I think of her….
“Bex, you’re grinding your teeth again,” says Suze patiently. “Stop it.” She arrived half an hour ago, laden with homemade Christmas presents from Ernie’s school fair. Now she brings over a cup of raspberry leaf tea and an iced Santa Claus cookie and puts them down on the counter. “You have to stop stressing about Venetia. It’s not good for the baby.”
“It’s all right for you! You don’t know what it’s like. No one made you wear hideous stockings and said you don’t have a marriage anymore and your husband was leaving you….”
“Look, Bex.” Suze sighs. “Whatever Venetia said…Whether she did say that or not…”
“She did!” I look up, indignant. “That’s what she said, word for word! Don’t you believe me either?”
“Of course I do!” says Suze, backtracking. “Of course. But you know, when you’re pregnant, things can seem worse than they really are…. You can overreact….”
“I am not overreacting! She tried to steal my husband! What, you think I’m deluded? You think I made it all up?”
“No!” says Suze hastily. “Look, I’m sorry. Maybe she did go after him. But…she didn’t get him, did she?”
“Well…no.”
“So. Just let it go. You’re having a baby, Bex. That’s the important thing, isn’t it?”
She looks so anxious, I can’t tell her my secret fantasy of bursting into the Holistic Birth Center unannounced and telling everyone exactly what a deceitful home-wrecker Venetia Carter really is.
Then how holistic would she look?
“All right,” I say at last. “I’m letting it go.”
“Good.” Suze pats my arm. “So, what time do we have to leave?”
I’m going back to The Look today, even though I’m officially now on maternity leave, because they’re opening the waiting list for the new Danny Kovitz line. Danny is going to be there from twelve noon, signing Tshirts for people who register, and the store has already had hundreds of inquiries!
The whole thing has suddenly become huge news — helped by Danny being photographed the other night in a clinch with the new guy in Coronation Street. All the papers have suddenly taken up the story and we’ve had loads of publicity. Danny was even on Morning Coffee this morning, assessing spring fashions on the sofa (he said all the outfits were hideous, which they loved) and telling everyone to come to The Look.
Ha! And it was all my idea to get him involved.
“Let’s go in a few minutes,” I say, glancing at my watch. “There’s no rush. They can’t exactly fire me for being late, can they?”
“I guess not….” Suze edges back to the sink, past our brand-new Warrior pushchair, which is in the corner, still in its packaging. There wasn’t room for it in the nursery, and the hall is cluttered with a Bugaboo (they were on special offer) and this cool three-wheeler which has an integrated car seat. “Bex, how many prams did you order?”
“A few,” I say vaguely.
“But where are you going to keep them all?”
“It’s OK,” I assure her. “I’m having a special room for them in the new house. I’ll call it the Pram Room.”
“A Pram Room?” Suze stares at me. “You’re having a Shoe Room and a Pram Room?”