‘She claims there’s no money it,’ says Rich.
‘I know it’s hard to make a living, but it would be wonderful to see her doing it again.’
The cricketers are coming back onto the field, so before they resume play, Rich says, ‘Actually, there
is
some news about Cath. I know she’s having a word with Judy, so you
should probably be in on it too.’
At once Peter sits straight up. ‘There’s nothing wrong, is there?’
‘No, no. Not at all. Sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you. It’s that, well, we’re going to try to have a child.’
‘Eh?’
‘Cath wants to have a baby.’ Rich explains to Peter as best he can, but he’s not fully au fait with IVF himself, so it’s a struggle. It’s doubly hard with a one-day
international vying for his attention.
‘Well, that’s terrific news. I wish you both extremely good luck.’ Peter adjusts the cushions in his chair and gives a satisfied huff. ‘Imagine that, you a dad . . . me a
grandfather again . . . Isn’t modern medicine amazing?’
‘It certainly is.’ Rich wonders if he should confess his concerns as to how Cath will take it if the IVF
doesn’t
work.
Suddenly, the England batsman sashays down the wicket and lofts a spinner into the stand.
I’ll keep schtum, thinks Rich. His father-in-law seems so bucked by the news he doesn’t have the heart, just as he doesn’t have the heart to put the brakes on Cath.
As if to confirm the wisdom of his decision, there’s the sound of a key in the lock, followed by Cath and Judy’s voices in the hall.
* * *
‘That’ll be your godmother,’ Karen tells Molly on hearing the doorbell ring. ‘Do you want to get it?’
Molly gets up from the tiled floor where she’s been playing with Toby, the cat, and charges to greet her.
‘So, whose birthday is it . . . ?’ Anna steps into the kitchen with both hands behind her back.
‘MINE!’ Molly jumps up and down. Toby, alarmed, scuttles out of the room.
‘Yours?’Anna feigns horror. ‘No way! I thought it was Luke’s!’
Lou hopes Molly knows she is joking. Molly giggles. ‘It’s mine!’
‘Oh, OK . . . so it’s yours, then. But . . . I’m terribly sorry, Molly, I seem to have left your present at home.’
Molly scoots round her. ‘What’s that, then?’
‘Ooh, I don’t know . . . ’ Anna swings the parcel round. ‘My goodness me, I seem to have brought it after all.’
Molly gasps.
‘Sit down, Molly. Just be patient a second.’ Karen addresses her friend. ‘Tea?’
‘Love one.’
‘Then I want to hear all about tonight.’
‘Let Molly open her present first.’ Anna sits down next to Lou.
Molly doesn’t need to be given permission twice. There is a frenzied tearing of Barbie paper and then – ‘EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!’
Karen laughs. ‘That’s a hit, whatever it is. What is it?’ She stops filling the kettle and comes to see.
‘Mummy, mummy, mummy! It’s a Dora laptop!’
‘Wow.’ Luke peers over his sister’s shoulder.
Karen ruffles Molly’s curls. ‘Now you can be a writer, like Godmother Anna.’
‘Hardly,’ says Anna. ‘This computer looks a lot better than mine. I wish I had a 3D Dora who bounced up and down when I got my words right doing copy.’
‘It’s got lots of games,’ says Lou, trying her best to see the box over Luke and Molly’s heads. It’s not easy when they are tugging it this way and that in a bid to
undo it as fast as they can.
‘I thought it would help with reading and counting,’ says Anna.
She’s so generous, thinks Lou. Beside it her own gift seems meagre.
‘Thank you,’ says Karen. ‘What do you say, Molly?’
‘Thank you.’
Anna bends down for Molly to kiss her cheek. ‘I’m sorry I missed your party yesterday.’
‘Don’t be.’ Karen raises her eyes to the skies. ‘I’ve never heard so much shrieking.’
‘It sounds fun.’ Fleetingly, Lou wishes she’d been there.
‘Here you two, pass that box over and I’ll do it,’ says Karen. Gently she prises the plastic toy from its protective polystyrene. ‘Come on, I’m going to set this up
for you on the end of the table. I’ll just get the extension lead.’ She turns to Anna. ‘With any luck it’ll keep them quiet for a bit and you can fill us in.’
As she leaves the room, Lou says, ‘I hear you’re Internet dating. Karen told me.’
‘Yup.’Anna drops her voice. ‘Actually, I’m trying to persuade her to do it too.’ She jerks her head towards the door.
‘Really?’
‘It’s been over a year.’
‘I know, but—’
‘It’s quite fun, you know.’
‘I know, I’ve done it. Not for a while, obviously . . . ’
‘Gosh, sorry, that was tactless. It’s probably the last thing you want to hear at the moment. How are you doing? Sofia moved out yet?’
‘She’s collecting the last of her stuff today.’
Anna reaches across the kitchen table and squeezes Lou’s hand. ‘Aw. I am sorry.’
Lou gulps. To be shown sympathy only makes it worse. ‘It’s OK. I’m OK, honestly.’
Molly looks up from her toy. ‘What’s happened to Sofia?’ Her face is anxious.
Lou hunts for the appropriate words for a small child. ‘I’m afraid we’re not going out together any more.’
‘Oh,’ says Molly. ‘Is that why you’re all sad?’
Dear me, thinks Lou. Is it that obvious? ‘Yes, I suppose it is.’
‘Does that mean you’re going to go out with a boy now?’ asks Molly.
Lou laughs. ‘No.’
Molly resumes examining the buttons on her laptop.
Lou and Anna shake their heads.
‘I feel terrible about that day, you know,’ says Anna. ‘I was thinking about it afterwards. I was awfully interfering.’
‘No, you weren’t. Don’t worry. I couldn’t have asked you to drive me up to London one minute, let me offload on you all the way, then expect you to bugger off. Sofia knew
that.’
‘I should have kept my trap shut.’
‘It wasn’t your fault. The issues were far too big.’
Anna lowers her voice again. ‘I think it’s just that Sofia reminded me of Steve, going off and getting drunk, then being so unpleasant to you. It made me more impatient with her than
she – and certainly you – deserved.’
‘Maybe. Anyway, it’s done. She’s gone. Come on. I could do with cheering up. I want to hear about this online dating.’
‘Got it.’ Karen returns with the cable and slides past Molly and Luke to plug it in.
‘What did you put in your ad?’ asks Lou.
Karen turns on the laptop and locates a spelling game for the children. Luke, being older, takes over, and soon the 3D Dora is bouncing up and down in encouragement.
It’s amazing how adept Karen is at sorting entertainment for her kids, thinks Lou. I wonder if I’ll ever be like that.
Anna leans forward, eager to share. ‘Even though I write ads for a living, I found it really hard to describe myself. Yet I seem to have had more interest than I know what to do
with.’
‘Seriously?’
‘A hundred and ninety hits.’ Lou can tell she’s flattered.
‘They haven’t all emailed me, though lots have made me a favourite.’
Molly looks up. ‘You’re
my
favourite.’
‘Molly, bless you,’ Anna smiles.
Compared with some of the kids I see in my line of work, Molly is such a sweet-natured child, thinks Lou. If only some of them could have this much love and attention, maybe they wouldn’t
have the issues they do.
‘Perhaps I’ve had a big response because I said I liked children but didn’t want them at this point in my life. I seem to have ended up with every single dad in the South East
winking at me.’
‘Nothing to do with you being attractive, then,’ Karen teases.
‘No. Lots of the women on there are gorgeous. Maybe I’m an easier prospect than a woman with kids.’
‘Like me, you mean?’ says Karen.
‘Oh cripes. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.’
Karen shrugs. ‘It’s fine. It’s true, anyway.’
Lou is finding it hard to focus on the conversation, knowing that Sofia is at the flat packing up her stuff. She imagines Sofia loading her car with all her CDs and DVDs. Music they’ve
listened to, films they’ve watched, together . . . Then she tunes back in. ‘You
would
make a great stepmother.’
Molly stops playing, wriggles down from her seat, goes over to Anna and tugs at her sleeve.
Anna looks down. ‘What is it?’
‘If you’re going to be a stepmother, does that mean you’re not going to be our godmother any more?’
Anna hoots with laughter. ‘Er, no, Molster, it doesn’t.’
‘Oh.’ Molly frowns. ‘It’s just in Cinderella, the godmother’s good and the stepmother’s horrid.’
‘You’ve been watching too much Disney,’ says Karen to Molly. ‘Not all stepmothers are horrid.’
As Molly goes back to her chair Luke scoffs, ‘Anyway, that’s just a
story
, it’s not real.’ He gets a question right and 3D Dora bounces again.
‘I want a go,’ says Molly.
‘Luke,’ says Karen firmly. ‘Let your sister have a turn. It’s her present.’
Luke scowls. ‘But she’s rubbish at it.’
And Molly starts to cry.
Karen sighs and pulls her daughter to her side to comfort her.
Perhaps handling these two isn’t plain sailing after all. Still, being a step- or godmother wouldn’t be enough for me, thinks Lou. She pictures Sofia once more, and her heart
twists.
‘Lou . . . ’ Now Karen is waving her hand in front of Lou’s face. ‘You’ve gone very quiet.’
‘Sorry.’
‘
We’re
sorry,’ says Karen. ‘Everyone was getting a bit carried away. You OK?’
‘Mm.’ She blinks away tears.
‘Any more news on the IVF?’ asks Anna, more gently.
‘I’ve got my first consultation at the clinic a week on Monday.’
‘Good luck,’ says Anna. ‘You going on your own?
‘Yup. But don’t worry. It’s not like when I discovered that lump – this is something positive, hopefully. Though there is one thing I do want you both to know, but
don’t go round telling everyone.’
‘What’s that?’ asks Karen.
Being online this morning, then seeing Karen with her children this afternoon, has confirmed it for Lou. Never mind the squabbles.
‘I’m going to share my eggs,’ she says. ‘So another woman can have a baby too.’
‘What are you doing?’ asks Rich.
His wife is sitting at the laptop, which is open on the kitchen table. He leans over her shoulder. ‘Mm, you smell nice.’
Cath leans back against him for a moment. ‘Look, I found this forum.’
He reads the chunk of type on screen:
. . . I really think it’s God’s will that two strangers can have such a magical relationship, and one day your child will understand how much you
want to be a mum, and thank you for the journey you have been through. Rainbow Girl
‘I’m not sure about God’s will.’ He continues to the next post. It appears to have been sent that afternoon.
Hi Rainbow Girl, Shadow and Annie33, Thanks for sharing your experience. Isn’t this website brilliant? I discovered it today and I’m going
through this on my own, so reading your stories has helped me feel less anxious, and I’ve decided to see if I can donate my eggs too. I’m not religious myself but I know what you mean,
Rainbow Girl, about it being a very special thing to share with someone. You are an inspiration. Louloubelle
‘What do you think about these women who opt to have a child on their own?’ says Rich. That it seems so easy to cut men out of the loop continues to unnerve
him.
‘Up to them, I guess,’ says Cath.
It’s not the reply he was hoping for.
She clicks off the page.
‘Hey, I was reading that!’
‘Sorry, too slow. I want to register with this site.’
‘Really?’
‘Yup. Then I can join in the discussion.’
There’s no point arguing.
* * *
Molly and Luke are in the living room watching a DVD; Anna has gone to meet her date. Once more it’s just Karen and Lou in the kitchen.
‘Are you in a hurry to get home?’
Lou has a vision of the flat, emptied of Sofia’s possessions. ‘Not specially.’
‘Then stay for a bit, keep me company while I cook the kids’ supper?’
‘That’d be good. Can I do anything?’
‘Peel these if you like.’ She hands Lou a bag of potatoes. ‘Do you mind if I ask you something?’
‘Of course not.’
‘You know the IVF and everything? I know I’m probably being a bit stupid, but who’s going to father the child?’
‘I thought I’d use an anonymous sperm donor.’
‘Ah, I see.’
Can Lou detect judgement in Karen’s voice? She is not naive; she knows her decision to try for a child will unsettle some people. ‘Do you have a problem with that?’ she asks,
trying not to sound defensive.
Karen hesitates while she reaches up high to place a salad bowl on a shelf. ‘Oh, no, not a problem, no. It’s just, I was thinking, well, I really hope you don’t mind my saying
this . . . ’ Her voice trails off. She seems flustered by the subject.
Oh dear, thinks Lou. Karen is so warm and compassionate, she’d assumed she would have her support. Lou girds herself for a confrontation but Karen says, ‘It’s very hard doing
it all on your own, you know,’ her voice cracked with emotion.
But of course: Karen is a single mum.
‘It’s pretty lonely.’ Karen gulps. ‘I miss Simon every single day. We all do . . . Luke more than Molly, I think. He’s older, he can remember his father better . .
. ’ She stands motionless, plate in hand. Lou senses she’s disappeared into the past. Then she’s back. ‘I don’t want to speak out of turn.’
‘You’re not,’ says Lou.
‘It’s just I was thinking – well, worrying – this all seems very fast. It’s a massive decision you’re taking.’
‘I don’t feel I have much choice,’ says Lou. She explains that fibroids often recur, so she oughtn’t to delay having a baby, and if she wants to share her eggs, she has
only a year before she’s too old to qualify.
‘I didn’t realize that. What horrible pressure. You poor thing.’ Karen removes a box of fish fingers from the freezer. ‘Life’s a bugger, isn’t it? Makes you
wonder what you and I did to deserve everything it’s thrown at us over the last year. Perhaps we were complete bitches in a past life.’