Chapter 47
FORTY-SEVEN
The flat in Shepherd’s Bush where Emily lived was buzzing with the early stages of her birthday party. I’d been looking forward to this –in the two weeks since Halloween, I’d been greeting each day with trepidation, and trying to hide it from Luke. It would do me some good to spend this evening outside of the house, outside of my world at Damask Square. When one of Emily’s housemates let me in, I added the gift I’d brought to a growing pile on the coffee table. ‘I Bet You Look Good on the Dancefloor’ was blaring from the stereo and a group of her friends were chattering over the music. In the kitchen, Emily was stirring a vat of mulled wine on the hob, wearing a sparkly top, skinny jeans and heels.
‘You came!’ She hugged me, smelling of red wine and cloves.
‘As if I’d miss my best mate’s party,’ I joked, hugging her.
‘There’s some fizz open,’ she said. ‘This will be ready in a few minutes, but don’t wait. I’ve been on the booze since four. Would you mind cooking those cocktail sausages? There’s a pan in the drawer there.’
I found it, poured myself a drink and stationed myself at the cooker next to her. It felt blissfully normal to be here, surrounded by music and friends. I realised how quiet the house on Damask Square always was, how empty – even more so now that the first floor was finished and the ground floor almost done, too.
It felt almost as if I’d emerged from some kind of time warp where I’d spent months in the past, and now I was back, blinking and startled, in the twenty-first century.
‘No Luke tonight?’
‘No Luke.’ I sighed. ‘Rachel’s due date is in a couple of weeks but he’s convinced she could go into labour at any moment. He’s been twitchy as hell – he doesn’t want to miss it.’
‘He’s not going to be there when she gives birth, is he?’ Emily grimaced.
‘God, no. Her mother’s going to be with her for that bit. But he wants to be there when the baby’s born and see it – see him – as soon as he can. He wouldn’t believe me or even Orla when we told him these things take ages and he could basically go to Scotland if he wanted to and still make it back in time.’
‘He’s taking it all very seriously, isn’t he?’ She stirred the mulled wine, tasted it and added more brandy.
‘He even went to an antenatal class with Rachel. He said it was awkward as fuck explaining where he fitted in and why he hadn’t been before, but how else was he going to learn to change a nappy?’
‘Riiight,’ Emily said slowly. ‘But things with you are still all good?’
I added the sausages to the hot pan and let them sizzle for a minute before giving it a shake.
‘Honest, Em? When it’s just him and me, they’re great. But it’s not like before. There’s always this – thing – hovering over us. I feel bad because I know he wants to do the right thing – he is doing the right thing. But still.’
‘So what’s actually the plan? Once the baby’s here? He can’t bring it to live in that house every other weekend, can he?’
I felt the beginnings of tears prickling my eyes and poked the sausages forcefully.
‘He’s not going to be living there any more,’ I told her. ‘Not all the time, anyway. He’s got a job. He starts in January, as a junior graphic designer. He’s been rushing like crazy to get the house finished because he feels bad about leaving Orla in the lurch.’
‘So where is he going to live?’
‘The plan is, he’s going to rent a room from Rachel’s mum. She lives really close to Rachel’s flat, so he’ll be able to see lots of the baby. And then when he’s not seeing it – him – he’ll come and spend nights with me at Damask Square.’
‘Well, that all sounds like it’s going to work out splendidly,’ Emily said sarcastically.
‘I know, right?’
‘And what about you in all this? Here, have a taste of this.’ She passed me a spoon and I dipped it into the mulled wine and slurped.
‘I guess I’ll just carry on as normal. Living with Orla, working, seeing Luke when he’s free.’
Fitting in around Luke and Rachel’s plans. I didn’t say this to Emily – I could barely say it to myself, and I hadn’t to Luke, either – but that was how it felt. Like I’d become of secondary importance – not so much to Rachel herself, but to the child she and Luke were going to have and do their best to raise together.
And how could I admit that I felt sidelined by a baby? That would make me the most selfish and pathetic person in the world.
‘You’re allowed to have a voice in this too, you know.’ Emily turned the gas flame down and started rummaging in a cupboard for glasses. ‘You matter just as much as some random sprog.’
I laughed. ‘Luke says that too. He says he loves me and he wants things to work out. He doesn’t call it a random sprog though.’
‘Course he doesn’t, what with being father of the year and everything. But seriously, Liv. Have you thought about how this is going to work? Like, not in the first few months while they’re figuring everything out, but longer term?’
I started lifting sausages out on to a plate. The truth was, I had and I hadn’t. I’d imagined that, somehow, Luke and I would figure it out. That because we loved each other, we’d find a way. I hadn’t allowed myself to look much further than our love for each other and the respect I undeniably felt for him wanting to step up and be a good dad to his son.
‘You’re twenty-two, Liv,’ Emily went on. ‘Do you really want to be a stepmother? Seriously?’
‘Of course not. But I wouldn’t be. I won’t have to have anything to do with Luke’s son unless I want to.’
‘Right. So what happens when you and Luke get married, say? Or even just live together? When it’s his turn to have his kid to stay with him? You fuck off to Butlin’s for the weekend?’
‘That won’t be for a while,’ I said defensively. ‘Not until it’s weaned, apparently. Rachel wants to breastfeed, so he won’t be able to leave her for ages.’
‘Sounds like Rachel’s got it all figured out,’ Emily said. ‘Hey, listen. I care about you, Liv. I just don’t want you to get sidelined in all this.’
Then she put down her soup ladle, stuck her head round the door and yelled that sausages and mulled wine were up, and moments later the kitchen filled up with laughing, half-drunk people.
I helped myself to another drink and a handful of cheese footballs and tried to enjoy the party. But I found I couldn’t. I knew that what Emily had said was true – that if things worked out between Luke and me, my life would look a whole lot different from Emily’s and her friends’.
If Luke and I ever had our own home, it would never be just ours – there’d have to be a bedroom for Luke and Rachel’s son where he’d spend half his time. No matter what Luke promised now, I’d become involved – maybe just helping out at first, but ultimately sharing responsibility for a child who wasn’t mine.
And if things really worked out between Luke and me and we eventually got married and had children of our own, those children wouldn’t be Luke’s only ones – not his first.
Much later, as I was leaving, Emily hugged me again, tipsily this time.
‘I’m sorry if I came across like a bitch,’ she said. ‘I just think you need to talk to him.’
‘I know. I know you’re right.’
Outside, the cold air shocked my lungs. Behind me, the warmth and noise of Emily’s party faded with each step. Ahead lay Damask Square – and the careful fiction of my life with Luke that was already unravelling. I walked faster, as if I could outrun what I knew had to happen next.