The First Time Mums’ Club

Alice almost immediately called her back. ‘What’s wrong?’

‘I was fine when I got up but I’ve been sick twice at work.’ Just the thought of it made her stomach churn.

‘Really?’ The excitement in Alice’s voice did not go missed. ‘Well, that’s great news!’

‘Thanks. Glad to see my misery is causing you so much happiness.’ She let out a feeble laugh and immediately stopped because of the feeling it gave her in her stomach.

‘Sorry, baby, but you know what I mean. This could be it!’

Imogen shook her head. ‘No, don’t do that.’

‘What?’

‘Don’t go getting your hopes up again. Not like last time.’ The painful memories of previous attempts of checking and every time it being negative swam around her brain, making it feel cloudy.

‘Oh come on. This is different. You don’t normally feel sick, let alone actually be sick. This could be our month! Oh my God, I’m so excited. Have you done the test yet?’

‘No.’

‘What? Come on, don’t be silly. Just do it already. You were going to do it tomorrow anyway, what’s a day early?’

‘Don’t you want me to wait until you get home?’

‘No way! It’s 10.30 in the morning; I’ll never be able to concentrate all day knowing this. Come on, just do it. It’s in the cupboard.’

Imogen stood up, but immediately sat back down as a wave of sickness began to descend again. ‘Fine, I’ll call you back.’

‘Make sure you do. I’ve got a meeting in about fifteen minutes so I’m timing it. You’ve got ten minutes. Go!’

Imogen laughed. ‘Okay, fine. Bye.’

‘Love you! Bye!’

Imogen hung up with a little giggle to herself. She absolutely loved how excited Alice was. She always got so passionate about things, that’s why Imogen fell in love with her.

Their relationship hadn’t been an easy ride. Imogen’s parents were not exactly supportive when she told them she was gay. Actually, unsupportive is probably an understatement. Imogen’s mum cried. She cried for about two weeks every time she saw them. First they were tears of anger – although Imogen never quite understood why she was angry – and then tears of sadness.

‘I’m never going to have grandchildren,’ her mum would wail every time it was brought up. Which was a really silly way to look at things, but she had supposed that it was just her mum’s way of dealing with the shock of it all. But no, things just continued to get worse. It went from never having grandchildren, to never going to her daughter’s wedding – which she didn’t – to ‘what will the neighbours say?’ It broke Imogen’s heart to see her mother so distraught but equally, it made her angry, too. She wanted her family to be more like Alice’s. Alice’s parents embraced her sexuality and had been like surrogate parents to Imogen. They were truly amazing people and Imogen was glad to have that positivity in her life when there were already so many negative people trying to inflict upset on them. Like their neighbours, who insisted on shooting them disgusted looks every time they went out together.

Alice’s view was very much just let them get on with it. She was an incredibly strong person, who didn’t take any crap from anyone. Whereas Imogen was a worrier. She cared what people thought and what they said. Which was the sole reason it took her so long to eventually come out. She tried to act as if people’s comments didn’t bother her, but they did. A lot.

Thank God she had Alice. Her rock.

She pulled the test out of the shiny white bathroom cabinet and opened it up. She didn’t need to read the instructions; it wasn’t as though this was the first time she had done one of these.

She sat on the toilet and took a deep breath. ‘Here goes,’ she whispered, praying for a miracle. She wasn’t sure she could handle another negative.

Chapter 2 (#u09336df7-06ff-5bea-bb77-a82aeef2d32d)

‘Ellie, what are you doing here?’

Zoe whipped her sister into a huge, warm embrace and Ellie instantly felt the urge to cry. She had held onto the emotion for the whole three-hour drive it had taken to get to her sister’s café, but the second she had wrapped her arms around her, tears rapidly filled her eyes …

‘Just wanted to see my sister, that’s all,’ she croaked, knowing full well that this line was not going to work on her.

Zoe pulled away from Ellie, looking at her in a way clearly indicating that she didn’t buy the story. She still had her hands on Ellie’s shoulders when she added, ‘Really, Els, what’s up?’

‘I just needed to get away.’

She didn’t need to say any more. Zoe smiled at her – you know, the kind of smile that said Okay, you don’t want to talk, that’s fine – and ushered her into the kitchen at the back of the café. ‘Here, sit down and I’ll make you a cuppa.’

Ellie took the proffered stool and instantly felt a rush of relief. Everything was going to be okay. She was here, her big sister would help her and everything would be okay. Zoe and Ellie’s relationship was a close one. They hadn’t been particularly close growing up, but once they got into their teens, their closeness began to grow. And when Zoe decided to fly the nest, she did it properly and moved what felt like a million miles away to Shropshire. It broke Ellie’s heart, not that she showed it, and even though they spoke on the phone pretty much every day, she missed having her big sister just around the corner. When Ellie had flown the nest, she’d moved a hundred yards down the road from their family home. Whilst she was adventurous in the sense that she pursued her career as a make-up artist, slaving away for pretty much no money for hours every day just to get experience until she qualified, she still liked to be close to the family home. When their mum died, nearly ten years ago now, Ellie fell apart. Zoe had come back home to London – it had only been a few months since she had moved to Shropshire – and picked up all the pieces whilst Ellie went off the rails a little. Not a fact she was proud of but she needed to do it. It was her way of coping. Being the older sister had its unwritten responsibilities and Zoe stepped up whilst Ellie crumbled. But Ellie never forgave herself for that.

Yet, here she was again – running to Zoe to help pick up the pieces. She would never match up to her perfect sister, so why bother trying?

‘So, come on. You clearly haven’t driven 170-odd miles just to have a cuppa with me. What’s going on?’

‘Nothing major. Just needed a break and I figured I haven’t seen you for a few months and it was time I came to you.’ She shrugged to add effect to the I’m fine, what’s the big deal persona she had created the second she entered the café.

Zoe didn’t buy it, but instead of grilling her, she just said, ‘Hmm, fair enough. How long are you here for?’

Ellie hadn’t thought that far ahead. When she saw the little pink line on the test, she’d panicked. She hadn’t even said anything to the director of the shoot she was on, just grabbed her stuff and left. She had numerous calls on her phone throughout the car journey here and a few stroppy voicemails too. This was not going to be good for her reputation. But she didn’t know what else to do. She couldn’t run to her dad for help, he would go mad at her. Ellie was ever the disappointment to him. She was nothing like his Zoe. ‘Why can’t you be more like your sister,’ he would throw at her in the years following their mum’s death. Because Zoe, whilst she mourned, took it as a springboard and catapulted herself into work, opening up the café and making it a success. Whereas Ellie struggled to stick at a job and then decided to take up being a make-up artist – much to the dismay of her father. Their relationship broke down and she barely spoke to him now.

And normally, in a situation like this, she would go to Chris for advice. But that was off the table, too.

So here she was. In Shropshire and indirectly calling out to Zoe for help. She just needed to pluck up the courage to actually tell her.

‘I don’t know yet. I’ve taken a little break from work and I thought I’d come and explore the countryside. See what all the fuss is about!’ she smiled at Zoe, a big fat fake one, and sipped the tea. ‘Ah man, Zoe, you do seriously make a wicked cup of tea. I’ve missed these!’

‘Why, thank you. Do you know what you’re missing, though?’

Ellie shook her head.

‘A slice of cake. Bakewell or Victoria sponge?’

Ellie thought for a second; there was only one reply to this question at a time like this. ‘Both.’

*****

Pippa had just finished boxing up all the cakes for tomorrow’s delivery to Zoe when Jason walked in the front door. She jumped in surprise at the sound of the door slamming and knocked a box of cupcakes onto the floor.

‘Damn it!’ she cursed, hurriedly picking them up and inspecting the damage. ‘Great!’ All but one cupcake out of the box of twelve, had split open, causing a frosting crime scene. She dumped the box on the side and grabbed a bowl from the cupboard. She could whip up a batch of cupcakes with her eyes closed, but she had looked forward to having a sit-down after her hectic day today, she was so tired. In all the pregnancy books she had read – which was a lot – right about now the baby would be the size of a lentil – how was something that small making her feel so shattered?

Jason strolled past the kitchen door without even popping his head in to say hello. Pippa knew instinctively that this must mean he hadn’t had a good day at work. She glanced at the clock; he wasn’t due home for another hour yet. She placed the bowl down onto the side and made her way into the living room.

‘Hi honey, you’re home early?’ He was slumped on the sofa, already flicking through the channels. He didn’t answer. She walked over to him and sat down next to him, placing a hand on his knee. He wasn’t a big man but, at the same time, he wasn’t slim. But that’s what Pippa had always loved about him, having a bit of meat to hold onto. Except that recently he had started to lose weight. Not enough to change his appearance massively, but enough to be noticeable. She knew he had been stressed at work lately because his whole attitude had started to be short and distance. And now it was clearly having an effect on his weight. ‘Everything okay?’

‘Fine,’ was his reply. He didn’t move to indicate he had felt her hand.