The First Time Mums’ Club

‘Oh, it was a last-minute thing, you know your father. He has these good ideas and you have to strike while it’s hot. Plus we didn’t know the weather was going to be like this, so we’re doing it before the rain comes. We’ve got plenty of food anyway.’ She turned to Imogen. ‘Are you okay, sweetie, you look a little peaky today?’

Imogen was stumped for a response, concentrating so hard on not blurting out their good news just yet, she froze and couldn’t think of a reply that wasn’t ‘I’m pregnant!’

‘She’s fine, she’s just tired, that’s all,’ Alice chipped in and Imogen smiled in thanks as Alice’s mum walked off into the kitchen shouting, you’ll need a cardy on though, Alice – the wind is chilly.

‘I don’t know why that happened,’ she whispered as she followed Alice through to the conservatory.

‘It’s fine. We will tell them in a minute and get it out, so you don’t have to keep it in.’ Alice smiled lovingly at Imogen, her big brown eyes creasing around the edges as she did so. ‘You’re such a weirdo, I love it.’

They walked out into the brightly lit conservatory and through into the garden, where she could see Alice’s dad standing broadly over the barbecue, placing various slabs of meat onto the grill.

‘Hey, Dad,’ Alice called out as she approached him. ‘Any excuse for a barbecue, hey? What’s cooking?’

‘There’s my girl.’ He stepped away from the barbecue and pulled her into a huge embrace, kissing her forehead. ‘And there’s my other girl.’ He repeated the same for Imogen. From the word go, Alice’s parents had treated Imogen like a second daughter.

‘Hi, how are you?’ she asked as she pulled out a chair from the table and sat down.

‘Yes, I’m good. Been tinkering with that car I showed you both last week, you know, the Stag?’

Imogen loved how passionate Alice’s dad was about cars. Alice had grown up with going to car auctions with her dad and helping him fix up old cars to sell on. More recently, he had been branching out into classic cars and a Triumph Stag was one of his favourites. He was so excited when he found this one last week, he had called Alice up and the pair of them had talked cars for almost an hour. Imogen didn’t understand the fascination, but she respected his passion and always engaged in conversation with him about his latest challenge whenever they met up.

‘How’s it going? Is it up and running yet?’ Imogen asked, feeling happy at the inclusion.

‘Oh, it’s a blinder. I’ll show you both after we’ve eaten. Here, Alice, you’ll take it for a spin, see how she runs?’

‘Course, Dad.’ Alice was going back and forth into the kitchen to help her mum bring out some food for the table. ‘You don’t mind, do you, Ims?’

‘Course she doesn’t mind. We can have a girly chat whilst you two are off doing your father- daughter-car thingy.’

Imogen laughed at Alice’s mum’s struggle with defining their quality time.

‘Well, that’s sorted, then.’

Because Alice had been a real daddy’s girl growing up – and still was – her mum had taken Imogen under her wing from the word go and she could tell that Alice’s mum secretly loved doing more girly things with her and talking about celebrities and clothes shopping and all your stereotypical ‘girl’ things. As much as Imogen and Alice were not your stereotypical gay couple, when it came to things like shopping and celebrities, Alice couldn’t give a monkeys, whereas her mum loved a gossip with Imogen.

‘Did you see that programme last night about the plastic surgery? That woman’s nose!’ Alice’s mum’s face was hilarious; the shock made her eyebrows rise and practically touch her hairline. She continued to pour out some juice for Imogen. ‘I mean, I know when we all get a bit older some of us like to get some help in the looks department. Hell, I wouldn’t say no to a few fillers here and there,’ she laughed, ‘but that nose job was horrendous!’

‘I didn’t see it. Not sure I have the guts to have surgery for anything. Imagine if it went wrong – especially on your face!’

‘You don’t need surgery, my lovely. You are perfect as you are.’

‘I’ll second that!’ Alice said from behind Imogen and she jumped in surprise.

‘You scared the life out of me; I thought you were in the kitchen.’

Alice placed the salad bowl in the centre of the table and laughed. ‘Sorry.’

When Alice had finished bringing all the food out and she had sat down at the table to join everyone else, she looked at Imogen and gave the slightest nod. Imogen nodded in return. They had agreed this little secret-code exchange before they’d left. Their way of letting each other know that they were ready to do the big announcement. Imogen took a deep breath.

‘Mum, Dad, we have some news.’

Imogen watched as Alice’s mum’s face began to light up. She had guessed already. Although, when someone says they have news, and they are already married, it is automatically your next thought. Alice’s dad, however, was still oblivious.

‘We are having a baby!’

Alice’s mum was already squealing and had jumped up instantly, pulling her daughter in for a huge hug. ‘Oh, my God, girls, that’s amazing news!’

‘Well, bloody hell!’ Alice’s dad, stood up. ‘Come here!’ He pulled Alice from her mum’s grasp and squeezed her into another.

Imogen didn’t have much time to take it in because Alice’s mum was now pulling her up, wrapping her arms around her and saying, ‘Imogen, this is the best news!’

‘Thanks, we can’t quite believe it ourselves.’

And here was her dad, pulling Imogen in for a cuddle.

They all took their seats back at the table.

‘When did this all happen? I mean, how long have you known?’ Alice’s mum was now sobbing. She took the tissue her husband was holding out for her and dabbed her eyes.

‘Imogen took the test yesterday morning. She got sent home from work because she was throwing up and she called me and then took the test and it was positive!’

Pride swelled in her chest as she listened to Alice retell the story. Alice was so excited and happy, the words were just tumbling out of her mouth and Imogen felt so emotional knowing that she was a part of the reason for making Alice so happy.

‘This calls for a celebration. I’ll get the special champagne out from the garage.’ Alice’s dad pointed at Imogen as he left the table. ‘Not for you, mind, you can have some orange juice.’ He winked at her and she laughed as she saluted him.

This was exactly how telling your parents should go.

Chapter 6 (#ulink_30045d28-97af-578a-88f6-723ada865ac6)

Pippa waited another half an hour before she picked up her phone and began to type. She hated it when he made her feel like this. It wasn’t as though she was an obsessive wife who needed to know where her husband was at every point during every day, but recently he had been so distracted when he was at home, she couldn’t help but wonder where he was when he wasn’t with her. This morning he had got up early and left, after telling her yesterday that he had some things to do at the office today and that he wouldn’t be too long. Even though it was a Saturday, she had been okay with it because she thought he wouldn’t be too long, as he had said. But it was now nearly five and he was still not home. She had tried everything to distract herself from the thoughts that had been accumulating in her mind. She couldn’t push out the images from before and what it had amounted to. Surely he wouldn’t do that to her again?

After doing her normal delivery to the café first thing, she had traipsed around town, picking up a few things for her bakes next week, some pregnancy essentials (which she had secretly really enjoyed doing after waiting so long to finally be able to buy them) and dinner for this evening, which she had decided would be a little celebration dinner following their amazing news yesterday. And finally, returning home to an empty house, she decided to clean the kitchen.

Cleaning was her go-to thing to do when she was stressed. A tidy house; a tidy mind was her motto. It was also the way, her friends had learned, that everyone kept tabs on how Pippa was feeling. They knew that when the house was sparkling, Pippa had something on her mind or was feeling stressed about work-related things – not that she would ever admit to it. She took pride in everyone thinking she was the perfect housewife and business owner. Funnily enough, no one ever questioned her marriage. She supposed that was because, on the surface, Pippa had a fairytale marriage. She and Jason had met in high school and got together when they were just fifteen. They split up for a bit when Jason had got itchy feet about being tied down and she had caught him texting another woman. She later found out he had been having an affair with her. But after a few years apart, he came back to her, claiming to have got it out of his system. He missed her and wanted to settle down and they had got married the following year. Jason had been at his job at the communications company since he started when he was seventeen and had worked his way up the career ladder to manager. Of course, when he started, he was simply an assistant to the assistant of the regional manager. Their friends would joke that he was an assistant’s assistant and would tease him about having such a mediocre job. But he worked hard and had now worked up to being regional manager himself. He worked long hours, but it was financially rewarding and meant they could buy their dream home out in the Shropshire countryside that they had both always dreamed of. It also meant that they were financially stable enough so that Pippa could take a step back from work temporarily when she had the baby. This had been the case for quite some time now, but she just hadn’t fallen pregnant. But now, she had finally conquered that stage and was now well on her way to fulfilling their dreams and starting the family she had always wanted.

Except, behind the perfect marriage image that she and Jason portrayed, things were falling apart. He was spending more and more time at work recently and she hardly got to see him. He would come home stressed and, as a result, they would argue and whenever he had time at home, or if they went on holiday, after a couple of days of niceties, he would become distracted and distant and she felt she had to fight for his attention away from his mobile phone. ‘It’s work stuff’ he would tell her, ‘I can’t just leave them at the office fending for themselves without me; the place would fall apart if I wasn’t there.’ Which was lovely, knowing how important he was to the company, but when you are out for a romantic meal on holiday and your husband keeps whipping out his phone, it is hardly the romantic dinner a girl dreams of.

How’s it going? Will you be much longer? Xx

She sent the message and waited another half an hour before trying to call. Voicemail. She left a message for him to call her when he got it and finally, at six-thirty, she heard from him.

‘Hi, sweetheart, sorry I took so long. Things have been manic here. I swear, without me, this place would go under!’

‘Well they are incredibly lucky to have such a hardworking employee. I didn’t think it was going to take so long today. I thought you would be home by midday.’ She was being totally honest when she said this. When he said to her yesterday that he had to go in and sort some things out, she thought two, maybe three, hours maximum, and then they could go out and spend some quality time together. He had been working so much recently, it was actually a miracle she had even fallen pregnant. Had they not had that crazy weekend last month, she would have claimed miraculous conception or even tested the theory of ‘there must be something in the air’.

‘Yeah, well, so did I, but as soon as I sorted one problem out, another one materialised.’

‘Is it that Patrick again?’