Sam Binnie - The Baby Diaries

When we got there, I’d barely got my shaky finger onto the doorbell when the door opened to reveal Susie, husband Pete and all the kids in the hallway, all wrapped up in coats and scarves. I asked them whether their heating had broken again, but Susie told me that Dad’s birthday lunch was now at Mum and Dad’s house rather than theirs; she didn’t think I’d mind if we moved venues. ‘Come on, Sour Puss. I didn’t have to buy any supplies. Free food!’ ‘Is it, Suse? Is it ?’ I said, but we were flurried out with their family. Thom and Pete took the twins Lily and Edward between them, walking in a wide line together, and Susie gave me Frida to carry.

Susie: So what’s new with you?

Me: Nothing! Why do you say that?

Susie: Jesus Christ, you’re pregnant.

Me: [wailing] How does everyone do that?

Susie: OH MY GOD I WAS ONLY JOKING. [doubles over laughing] Oh my GOD. I literally could not be more pleased with myself right now.

Me: Susie, you absolutely cannot tell Mum and Dad.

Susie: [wide-eyed, serious face] Oooh yeah, they’ll totally ground you and you’ll never get to go to the end of term party.

Me: Susie, please .

Susie: Alright. Do you want me to do it?

Me: Tell them you’re pregnant? I don’t know how long that story will hold. In about six months’ time my hospitalisation with Swollen Stomach is going to seem reeeeeally suspicious.

Susie: That wasn’t what I meant, but actually …

Me: We’ll all pretend we’re pregnant! Like Spartacus!

Susie: You’re hormone-addled.

Me: And you have to stop saying that stuff.

Susie: Alright, spoilsport. But I think you should know …

Me: God, what ?

Susie: Mum’s actually really good at all this stuff. Looking after us in pregnancy. If she’s anything like how she was with me; she was brilliant. Asking all the right things. Providing great food. I think you’re going to see a new side to our mother.

Me: Hang on – Mum, who can barely remember our names at the best of times? Mum, who never quite manages to listen to what we’re saying when we’re in front of her? Mum, who reacted to news of your pregnancy with ‘Is it definitely yours?’?

Susie: Mum who single-handedly catered and decorated your wedding? Trust me. She’s good at this. She always preferred us when we were in utero , so she gets really excited about pregnancies.

Me: I’ll believe it when I see it.

We settled on Susie and Thom tossing for it. When we got to Mum and Dad’s, we took a coin from the pot in the hallway and all three of us squeezed into the downstairs toilet.

Susie: Call it.

Thom: Heads.

Me: No, tails.

Susie: Which one?

Thom: I don’t care.

Me: Tails! No, heads. HEADS.

Susie: [flips coin] Ha ha! It’s tails. [sing-songing] I get to tell them.

Thom: Oh, thank God.

Me: Just … do it. Don’t gloat, Suse. Get it done with.

So we filed back out, Dad giving us an odd look, and came into the kitchen where Mum was plating up our lunch.

Susie: Mum, Dad, Pete, children. I have an announcement to make.

Pete: [crossing fingers]

Susie: Your daughter’s knocked up – and it’s not me, for once!

Pete: Oh, thank God.

[silence]

Mum: Fucking hell .

Me and Susie: Mum !

I actually love it when Mum swears. It’s like Johnson’s walking dog – we’re not concerned so much how well she’s doing it, but that she’s doing it at all.

Mum: Sorry, darling, I just … well, I was surprised. Sorry. I just thought …

Me: What?

Mum: Well, I’m just surprised you’re having children so soon! I just thought you’d want to wait a little while. You two are both so young, and I thought you’d want to settle into your careers a little bit more …

Me: Susie had had two kids by the time she was TWENTY-FIVE!

Susie: [pulling a Question Time face] I hardly think that’s the point.

Me: [pleading] Mum .

Mum: Oh, darling, of course we’re excited. You do spring this on people, don’t you?

Me: [indignant] Would you prefer a blow-by-blow –

Thom: Don’t.

Me: [understanding] – mm.

Then Dad and Pete and the Twins were excited and gave us both hugs, and Mum came and gave me a lovely hug too. She asked lots of questions (all the right sort, for once), and Susie caught my eye and winked at me. Mum stayed excited for the rest of the afternoon, although she did occasionally repeat herself, which I can forgive in the name of her excitement.

Sometimes, I really love this family. Now it’s just telling everyone else we know. Gulp.

TO DO:

Find out if Susie’s available to tell all our friends

Alice hasn’t so much as raised a conspiratorial eyebrow at me since she guessed the news. She’s been as friendly as ever, sweet and funny, but she’s too tactful to make hints or whisper questions to me in the office. She shows her me her neutral face, the face that’s meant she’s managed three Christmases with her handbag Gareth and her family, and never even looked at me when Carol reported that Tony had bought a baby book. In our weekly meeting, Carol asked if we had any thoughts yet on Lucie Martel’s A Womb of One’s Own .

Me: Her what?

Alice: A what of her what ?

Carol: Tony bought this just before he left. It says here Kiki’s handling it in his absence. Didn’t he tell you?

Me and Alice: [blank faces]

Carol: Bloody hell. Right, it’s an American import, obviously, but we’ll publish in March, the same time as them. Lucie’s an incredibly wealthy New York journalist, mainly working in the US but with a few things published over here. Her piece on arranging a prostitute for her super-rich-CEO husband went down a storm last year in the Mail .

All: Oh, her !

Carol: Quite. She’s written the book already, but we won’t bring it out until the baby is actually born.

Me: But what is it?

Carol: Looking again at the submission notes, it’s ‘a unique look at pregnancy, labour and the early years through the fresh eyes of someone appreciating the beauty and purity of the experience’.

Alice: I’ve heard about Lucie. If her eyes are fresh it’s only because she’s had them injected with dolphin endorphins at some million-dollar spa.

Carol: We’re all thinking it, Alice, but I’m afraid you must learn to love this book. Tony’s spent enough on it that we must make use of the month we’ll have her for.

Me: But how can she have finished it if she hasn’t even had the baby yet?

Carol: Because when you have that much money, you can guarantee that life will turn out how you planned. I’ll send you the latest version; she’s over next month for a meeting with us. Did Tony really not tell you any of this?

All I could think was: Christ, I really hope Tony doesn’t buy a How to Cope with Everyone You Know Dying book, or I’m going to have to keep a closer watch on my loved ones. Why does he keep predicting my life? What the hell is going on? And why the living hell would he not tell us he’d bought it?

But it felt like the right time to tell Carol about this baby, after the meeting. She took it so well, giving me a hug and asking me for all the details. She said she’d email Tony – not that he responded with any real frequency – and get all the information to me about my leave and maternity pay. Her enthusiasm was quite infectious, in fact, and for once I didn’t mind telling people. Alice pulled out one of the bottles of prosecco that always seem to dog this place, and we had a tiny toast. I even saw Norman raise his glass to Carol before he drank, that old romantic. It wasn’t so bad, after all.