The Leap Year Proposal

Chapter Twenty-two

Anouska

Wednesday 12 February

Anouska lay on the sofa, her phone in her hand. It had been twenty-three minutes since she’d waved the girls off. They’d stayed to ensure she was well enough and mentally able to do what she intended to that night. But she still didn’t know how to do it. She didn’t feel up to it one bit. She wasn’t sure if she had it in her any longer. In fact, she knew it. She couldn’t do it. Couldn’t go through with the proposal. But she needed to tell Zach he was going to be a father. She picked up her phone and dialled his number.

Anouska frowned when Zach’s phone went to voicemail. She couldn’t leave him a message– she didn’t trust her voice not to give her away. It was different when you were having an actual conversation. She sighed and clicked end. It would have to keep. In the meantime she’d potter around and figure out what to say.

When two hours later Zach still hadn’t called, Anouska’s patience began to wane. She knew it was irrational. He was busy, at work, no doubt inundated, even though it was a weeknight. He didn’t seem to have many quiet periods, which was good for business, she supposed, less so for their relationship. She knew he had no idea why she was calling, but she needed him. And she didn’t like that. Anouska rarely needed anyone. Normally, she was the epitome of self-sufficiency. She was happy to want to be with someone but not to need to be with them, or need them. Now things had changed, and how. And she couldn’t get hold of Zach. How would it be when the baby came? What on earth would she say when she saw him, because this time there was no hiding. Zach knew her well enough to be able to tell from her face that something was amiss.

She must have fallen asleep, as she woke when a key turned in the lock. Disoriented, she glanced at the clock. Ten past ten. She had slept the evening away.

Zach came into the living room, hair sticking up, a sheen of sweat on his forehead and his trousers covered in what looked like splodges of ragu. Anouska had never loved him more. But how could they have a family life when they both worked all the hours they did? She wasn’t being fair to him, hadn’t been fair to him, and now wasn’t a good moment to lay this on him, but when would be? Exhausted herself, especially given the events of the past twenty-four hours, Anouska drew on her inner strength, pulled herself up and said, ‘You look like you could use a glass of wine.’

‘Thanks, sweetheart.’

He took off his trousers, explaining as he did so that he had been preparing some ragu for the freezer, slipped on the kitchen floor and upended the container all over himself, his chef’s whites only managing to catch the majority of it.

‘I don’t want to imagine what your whites are like then,’ Anouska joked.

‘Soaking in bleach.’ He gave a wry smile.

Anouska passed him his wine, which he accepted with a sigh.

‘Zach.’

Zach turned to face her, and spurred on, Anouska continued. ‘I have something to tell you. I’ve been trying to find the right moment, but there hasn’t been one, and I know right now is possibly one of the worst moments, but we rarely see each other and this can’t wait any longer.’

Zach spilled some of his wine as he set it down. ‘Anouska, you’re scaring me. What is it? You’re not ill, are you?’

‘No, Zach, I’m not ill. I’m pregnant.’

‘What?’ A multitude of emotions crossed Zach’s features– shock, disbelief, then horror. Anouska bit back a sob. She knew it. She knew he would be shocked, but how could they come back from this? The final expression on his face said it all.

‘But how?’

‘I think you know how, Zach,’ she said dryly.

‘No, I mean, we’re always so careful, and you’re on the pill. Oh my God, you were throwing up a few weeks ago. Was that morning sickness?’

‘It turned out to be, yes. I didn’t know then.’

‘So, how pregnant are you?’

‘Ten weeks.’

‘Ten weeks? How long have you known?’

‘A few weeks,’ she fudged. He didn’t have to know absolutely everything.

‘I can’t believe you kept this from me.’ He ran his hands through his hair and looked so distraught, Anouska wanted to take him in her arms and comfort him. She also needed him to reassure her.

‘And does it have like bits and everything? Can you see it yet?’

‘I suppose it depends what bits you’re referring to, but yes, you’d be able to make out its outline.’ Again, he didn’t need to know yet she’d already seen the baby, already had a scan. She struggled to swallow, fighting back tears.

‘I do-do-don’t know what to say,’ said Zach. ‘We’re going to be parents!’

‘Are you pleased?’ Anouska was almost too scared to ask, but she had to.

‘Honestly, I’m shocked more than anything, but I-I-I, yes, I’m pleased.’

Anouska’s breath left her in a whoosh, then she let Zach embrace her and she hugged him back.

‘Oh my goodness, Anouska, this is huge. I wonder if it will be a boy or a girl. What will we call it? I didn’t think I wanted kids, but now you’ve presented me with a fait accompli, it seems right.’

Relief flooded through Anouska. ‘Oh, Zach, I’m so glad you feel that way. We’ve always said we wouldn’t have kids. I was worried how you’d react. It’s going to change our lives in a big way. Like ninety-five per cent of our lives.’

‘What about your work?’ Zach appeared to suddenly realise the impact their child would have on their, and more pertinently Anouska’s, day-to-day life.

‘I don’t know yet. The travelling is out for sure. I can’t fly after seven months anyway. I’ll probably need to get a manager in, or promote one of my managers in one of the territories.’

Zach snuggled into her. ‘I can’t take it in. We’re going to have a baby.’

‘Yep.’

They sat on the sofa chatting and cuddling, until the phone rang, interrupting them. Anouska picked up, but inadvertently hit speakerphone.

‘Anouska,’ boomed her mother’s voice. ‘It’s me. Have you told him yet? Have you asked him yet?’

Shit! Anouska jabbed at the phone, trying to click off the speakerphone.

‘Anouska, have you told him about the baby yet?’ her mother insisted.

Dreading turning around, and still stabbing at the phone to turn off the speakerphone, Anouska twisted and saw Zach’s horror-stricken face. It was almost as if the words ‘You told her before you told me?’ were coming out of a speech bubble at his mouth. The situation couldn’t have been any more hideous.

‘Mum, I need to call you back.’ Anouska clattered the handset back in its cradle and walked over to Zach, who now had his face in his hands as if trying to blot out what he’d heard.

‘You told her?’ Zach whispered.

‘Yes, no, she knows.’ Anouska’s tear-stained face appeared to have little impact on Zach, who rounded on her. ‘And how come she knew and I didn’t? Has she…she’s known since she was here, hasn’t she?’

Anouska nodded, unable to make a sound.

‘But that was over a week ago. Why didn’t you tell me?’

‘There…there never seemed a good time.’ Anouska knew it sounded feeble but it hadn’t felt like an excuse at the time.

‘A good time? But your mother knew, and you still didn’t think I might like to know about the existence of my child?’ Zach’s face contorted into a grimace. Then, as if something had dawned on him, he asked, ‘Does anyone else know?’

For once Anouska considered lying, but she was a terrible liar and knew it. ‘I’m not sure.’

‘What do you mean you’re not sure? You’ve either told someone or not.’

‘Well, I haven’t told anyone, but Mum knows. She guessed.’ She shrugged. ‘It’s a mum thing, apparently.’ She hesitated. ‘And I think Leigh-Ann might know.’

Zach’s mouth fell open. ‘What? How does Leigh-Ann know?’

‘I didn’t say she definitely did, but she has been giving me funny looks. I think she may suspect but she hasn’t challenged me on it.’ She paused for a second to collect her thoughts. ‘She sees me most days, and she’s not stupid.’

‘What? But I am? You should have called me before you took the test,’ Zach said, his voice rising. Anouska could see he was trying to keep his cool, but she realised it couldn’t be easy for him.

‘Anyone else?’ he asked, clearly expecting her to say no. ‘Or is there a long list of clients, other family members, people at the airports you pass through that you might have told before me?’

Anouska sighed. ‘Ellie and Jess know.’

At Zach’s incredulous expression, she said, ‘I didn’t have a choice. They only found out yesterday.’

Zach ran his hands through his hair, tension flowing off him in waves. ‘You told two complete strangers that you’re pregnant with my child before you told me. Do you hear yourself?’

‘Zach, I’m sorry. You and I had never planned to have kids and then bang, I’m pregnant. I didn’t know how to tell you and when I’ve tried to bring it up, something has got in the way, or you’ve been late home, or exhausted.’

‘Oh, so it’s my fault now, is it?’

‘No, it’s nobody’s fault. It just is.’

‘What about trust, Anouska? Do you have any idea how much it hurts that you couldn’t trust me with this?’

The phone rang. They let it ring. It stopped.

‘Zach,’ Anouska began, ‘I…I need to know that everything is going to be OK. I…I need to tell you something else too.’

‘What else could you possibly have to tell me? You’re secretly an assassin? You’ve won the lottery but that slipped your mind, too?’

He was cut short by Anouska’s mobile ringing. Anouska glanced at it. Mum.

She left it unanswered and turned her attention back to Zach, whose train of thought fortunately seemed to have been broken.

‘Zach,’ Anouska started again. ‘The reason the girls know is because I’ve been in hospital.’

‘You’ve what?’

‘The baby.’ She wrung her hands then scratched her neck.

‘Is something wrong with the baby?’ Zach’s tone gave away his concern.

‘No, I—’

Zach’s mobile rang.

‘Jesus. Does your mother never learn? Three phones.’ Zach picked up. ‘Yes, Maura.’

‘Yes? You said yes. Oh, I knew it. I told her she should propose.’

‘What? Propose? Anouska didn’t propose. Propose? Why would she propose?’ He glared daggers at Anouska, certainly not the response she was hoping for at the prospect of her proposing.

Silence came from the other end of the phone.

Zach passed the phone to Anouska. ‘Here, talk to your mother. You can have a good old chat about all the important things in our life before you discuss them with me. I can’t do this. I’m going out.’

‘Zach, don’t.’ She held out an arm to stop him passing her, but he pushed her arm down and strode past. ‘You’re being unreasonable. I didn’t tell anyone…’ she called as he yanked the door open.

‘Don’t wait up.’

He slammed the door. Anouska stared at it for a long moment before coming to and realising her mother was still talking to her from Zach’s mobile. Now she didn’t even have any way to contact him.

‘Anouska, I’m sorry. I thought you’d asked him early. What’s he so upset about?’

And to delay thinking about the events that had just occurred and rehashing them, and to put off thinking about the possible negative outcome, Anouska let her mother give her advice and comfort her, after she apologised about forty times.

When she finally concluded the call, Anouska collapsed into bed, dragging the duvet over her, spent. Now Zach knew he was going to have a son or daughter, but the question was, would their baby have a father?