Be Less Panda (The Dashford Comedies Book 3)

1

Em was in her usual location for a Thursday morning: sitting at the desk by the Aga in Dashford Grange’s kitchen, updating the holiday cottage booking spreadsheet.

A pinging sound from her phone interrupted her. Another text from her husband, Jack. She was finding it hard enough to concentrate this morning without more interruptions. She read the message:

Have you told her yet?

Em replied

No. She’s still not back.

She sent a second text, hoping it would stop him asking her again:

Nancy often stays for a drink at the Fisherman’s Arms after her wild swimming session.

Three dots appeared.

Ok - let me know when she knows xx

Em sighed.

I will - I haven’t forgotten that’s what we agreed.

That could come across as a bit terse,her inner voice warned her. She added a smiley emoji and a couple of Xs before pressing the send arrow.

Em tapped her fingers on the desk. She’d allow herself one more look before she went back to processing this week’s new bookings. She bent down to her bag and pulled out the small folder containing a flimsy piece of paper. She smiled at the fuzzy black-and-white image. You’re going to wear it out at this rate. She photographed it with her phone so she’d be able to look at it there in future. The original could go in an album when she got home this afternoon.

It was funny how this little piece of paper finally made it seem real. Ever since that blue line had appeared on the pregnancy test, it had felt like a dream. Now, with a bit of luck, she was going to be a mother by the end of the summer.

‘Hello!’ Her boss, Nancy, walked into the kitchen. ‘And how are you this morning?’

‘I’m fine, thanks.’

‘You seem on edge. Anything you want to tell me?’

Em swore Nancy was psychic. ‘Yes, I have, actually. Jack and I - we’re, umm …’

She’d rehearsed this so many times. Why was it so difficult to say it out loud? ‘We’re going to be parents.’

Nancy grinned. ‘End of August, by any chance?’

Em laughed. ‘My due date is 24th August. How did you know?’

‘You’ve been looking peaky since Christmas, and you hardly drank anything at your wedding. Olivia’s thrilled.’

Olivia was Jack’s mother and also Nancy’s oldest and closest friend.

‘But we haven’t told Olivia yet.’

If Jack had said anything to Olivia before the 13-week scan, she’d have told everyone “in the strictest confidence” and Em didn’t want anyone to know until her pregnancy stood a reasonable chance of going full-term.

‘I’m sure she’ll pretend to be surprised when Jack breaks the news. When is he telling her?’ Nancy asked.

‘When I text him to say I’ve told you,’ Em said, picking up her phone.

‘I’ll make us some tea to celebrate.’

Em smiled. Nancy’s answer to everything was a hot cup of Earl Grey. Em tapped out a message to Jack.

Your mum already knows - Nancy guessed weeks ago! xx

His reply was almost instant:

Really?? Xx

Em texted her best friend Lucy next. Lucy already knew, but Em had sworn her to secrecy, even making her promise not to tell her partner, Mark.

All fine. You can tell Mark now.

Lucy replied with a thumbs-up emoji.

Em went back to her work. A few minutes later, Lucy texted her back.

He knew! Jack told him weeks ago.

This was ridiculous. ‘Has somebody taken an announcement out in The Times?’ Em said to Nancy. ‘I was looking forward to surprising everyone, but you’ve all worked it out already!’

Nancy tried to reassure her. ‘I’m sure there are some people who don’t know.’

‘A few monks in Outer Mongolia might have missed the news, I suppose.’

‘It’s fairly obvious to anyone who knows you well.’

Em smiled. ‘I guess it doesn’t matter now. The important thing is the baby is well.’

‘Have you got a scan picture?’ Nancy asked as she put a steaming mug of tea down on Em’s desk.

Em showed her the photo on her phone.

‘Amazing, isn’t it, seeing them before they’re even born. I didn’t have that with my first.’ Nancy zoomed in on the image. ‘I think it’s a boy. And he’s definitely got Jack’s nose.’

‘Really?’ Em didn’t want to refer to the baby as he or she yet, though Jack had named them Bob. “Just as a temporary name. We can’t keep referring to our first child as it,” he’d insisted.

Em looked at the scan picture again. The baby’s head hadn’t got much of a nose at all yet, though if Bob did end up with Jack’s nose, that wouldn’t be a bad thing. Jack’s was fairly appealing as noses went.

‘Is your father pleased?’ Nancy asked.

‘Hopefully, he will be. I haven’t told him yet because his fiance is as bad at keeping secrets as Olivia is.’

‘Why don’t you tell him now? I’ve got some washing to put away. I’ll leave you to it.’

‘Before you go, this came for you.’ Em handed Nancy an envelope that had arrived in this morning’s post. It had a German stamp, and the address was handwritten. Em guessed it might be from the friend Nancy had visited in Berlin last year.

Nancy gasped. An unusual reaction for a personal letter. ‘Is everything ok?’ Em asked.

‘Yes, yes. It’s just … I’ll take my tea in my study.’ Nancy said, dashing out of the kitchen just as Jack phoned.

‘How is my gorgeous wife?’ he asked.

‘I don’t know about the gorgeous one, but the tired and queasy one is fine. I’m not sure Nancy is, though. I’ve never seen her so flustered.’

‘She’ll be wondering what to do about your maternity leave.’

‘No, it’s not that. She was fine until I gave her a letter that arrived this morning. She went very pale, and she’s not even opened it yet.’

‘I guess she’ll tell you soon enough. But if you’re interested, I have told Bob’s future grandmother.’

‘Sorry! I should’ve asked. How did it go?’

‘She did a fabulous job of pretending she didn’t know that she was getting a new grandchild. She sends her love.’

‘I gather you’ve already told Mark?’

‘Ah, yes.’ He sounded sheepish. ‘It accidentally slipped out.’

At least he was being honest. ‘When?’

‘Um … The day you did the pregnancy test.’ Jack sounded even more sheepish now.

‘That long ago? Why didn’t you say?’

‘I thought you’d be upset.’

Em sighed. ‘At least it’s not a secret anymore. I better go. I need to tell Dad now.’

Em dialled her father’s number.

‘Hello, love. Is everything ok?’

‘Yes. Why do you ask?’

‘You don’t normally phone me on a Thursday morning.‘

‘I wanted you to be one of the first to hear my news.’ Or, at this rate, the last. Em heard him shout, ‘Cynthia! Come here, darling. Em’s on the phone.’

Em didn’t wait for her soon-to-be stepmother to arrive. ‘You’re going to a grandad in the summer.’

‘That’s me ￡10 down then,’ he laughed.

‘That wasn’t what I was expecting you to say!’ Was no one going to be surprised? None of the pregnancy sites she’d been avidly reading had said anything about family and friends being this laid back about your big announcement.

‘Sorry, love. It’s just that at your wedding Cynthia bet me ￡10 that you were already pregnant. I thought if I’d not heard anything by the end of this month, I’d be in the clear.’