Tasmina Perry 3-Book Collection: Daddy’s Girls, Gold Diggers, Original Sin

Serena looked at Cate blankly, as if once again she’d failed to absorb the information. ‘Oh,’ she said finally, her voice almost a whisper.

Cate frowned and looked curiously at her sister. Serena was very rarely lost for words. ‘Anyway, apparently Van’s ovarian reserves are so low that she has to get pregnant in the next few months, or that’s it. She’ll be heartbroken if she can’t have children.’

The room welled up with silence. Cate looked up, waiting for some response. Serena swung her legs off the sofa and walked towards the kitchen. ‘Is it all right if I get something to drink? A Diet Coke or something?’ she asked distractedly over her shoulder.

‘Sure,’ said Cate, ‘but I was just about to open a bottle of wine. There’s a nice Sauvignon Blanc in the fridge.’

Serena shook her head, ‘No, no. I think I’ll have tea,’ she said as she opened the fridge. She definitely looked shaken by Venetia’s news, thought Cate. Maybe she does have a soul, after all.

‘Are you OK?’ she asked, following Serena into the kitchen and putting her plate on the marble worktop.

‘Of course I am!’ snapped Serena, slamming the fridge door shut.

‘I know it’s upsetting about Venetia,’ said Cate, putting out a hand, ‘but she’ll get through it, she always does.’

Serena walked back into the lounge past Cate and curled up on the sofa, bringing her slim knees up to her chin, her arms hugging her legs. Cate walked back and sat next to her, putting a reassuring arm around her shoulders. ‘Sin, is there something wrong? Tell me what it is.’

Serena fell silent for at least a minute, then exhaled sharply and buried her face in her knees. The weight of her own troubles had been building for the past few weeks; now, with this news about Venetia, she felt as if she might burst. She thought back briefly to when she was with Tom – she could always tell him anything or offload all her anxieties, however trivial, onto him. But in New York there was no one who she could talk to; not any of her fabulous new friends, certainly not Michael. And in all the career excitement of the last few weeks, this little secret had been buried inside her so tight and so deep, she had almost convinced herself it would go away.

She looked up into Cate’s kind face. Her sister was so concerned, so eager to help. That’s what she had missed being in New York. Her family. Serena took a deep breath.

‘I think I might be pregnant,’ she said, her voice husky with emotion.

It was Cate’s turn to catch her breath. She put her hand on Serena’s knee. ‘But that’s a good thing, isn’t it?’ she said, trying to gauge her sister’s emotions.

‘No, it isn’t a sodding good thing!’ said Serena, giving a mocking laugh. ‘It certainly isn’t what I want, and I doubt very much it’s what Michael wants either. My career is really taking off, Cate,’ her voice now was loaded with panic. ‘I’m up for two really big roles and people in LA are beginning to recognize me. I just can’t take time off, I just can’t be off the scene.’

Cate had never seen Serena cry so bitterly before, not even the day after she’d split with Tom. She usually seemed so composed and in control. Now, even as fat tears rolled down her cheeks, Serena still had poise and elegance, but Cate could tell she was near to cracking.

‘Are you sure about it?’ asked Cate as gently as she could.

‘It’s probably fine,’ said Serena briskly. ‘Probably just some hormone thing.’

‘But have you been to the doctor, have you done a test?’

‘No, nothing,’ Serena said, shaking her head.

Cate smiled to herself. It was just like Serena to bury her head in the sand. When her pet rabbit Marilyn had died when she was six, she had hidden her in a wooden box and insisted to anyone who had tried to sympathize that Marilyn had ‘gone to France for the summer’.

‘I’ve just missed a period, that’s all,’ said Serena. ‘It might be stress, it probably is. I’ve been so busy …’

‘But you’re obviously worried about it. Why don’t you take a test?’

‘I’ll go and see my OB when I’m less busy,’ said Serena, climbing to her feet. ‘Now please let’s stop talking about it.’

‘No!’ said Cate, pulling her back down onto the sofa. ‘Look at you, you’re a nervous wreck!’

‘Cate,’ said Serena calmly, ‘you probably don’t understand what it means to be incredibly busy, but I do not have time to go to the doctor. I’ve got meetings in London, press in Cannes, I’ve got the Amfar party – and then Michael is taking the yacht to the grand prix in Monaco.’

‘OK, so let’s put your mind at rest,’ said Cate, firmly in editor mode. ‘I’ll go and buy a test now from the chemist around the corner.’

Serena suddenly looked frightened. ‘But what if someone knows it’s me? It would be a disaster if this got out.’

Cate patted her knee. ‘Don’t be silly: I’m buying the test. No one around here gives a hoot about me – I’m hardly the most famous person in Notting Hill. If it makes you happier I’ll wear a baseball cap!’

‘God, it all sounds so cheap,’ muttered Serena, fanning herself with a newspaper. ‘Look, Cate, please don’t bother, we’re not at boarding school now. I’ll go and see my gyno back in New York when I’m ready.’

But Cate had already slipped on her jacket and grabbed her car keys. ‘I’m going. I’ll see you in ten minutes.’

‘Cate, no …’

As the door clicked shut, Serena put her face in her hands and let the sobs come, tears streaming down her face, plastering her six-hundred-dollar Sally Hershberger haircut to her cheeks. Finally, she blew her nose and took a deep breath. She didn’t know whether to be annoyed, angry, or simply relieved that Cate had winkled the truth from her. Maybe it was for the best, she thought, wiping her eyes and sniffing. She hadn’t ‘just’ missed her period: she was now almost four weeks late. When she had discovered it, she had been terrified and alone. Michael was the only person in New York she knew well enough to talk about it, and she could hardly tell him. How would he react? Would he be pleased or furious? Would he welcome fatherhood or, God forbid, run away from it? What if he dumped her? His lifestyle wasn’t exactly child-friendly – and while they were happy now, the hedonistic social life they both enjoyed might not be quite so fabulous with a toddler in tow.

She shuddered and knocked over a wine glass on the floor with her foot, not noticing the stream of liquid trickling over Cate’s carpet. It seemed so unfair. Why couldn’t someone like Venetia be having the baby? Venetia so wanted to have a little brat, whereas it was the last thing Serena needed in her life right now. But then Serena Balcon always got what other people wanted, she thought, a slow smile appearing on her lips.

The door slammed. ‘That was quick!’ said Serena as Cate came back in, baseball cap pulled low over her eyes.

‘Quick? I had to go all the way up to Kensal Rise in disguise. Didn’t want anyone to see a Balcon girl buying a pregnancy kit – oh, the scandal!’ she added with a weak laugh.

‘I can’t believe you talked me into this,’ said Serena, taking the package and reading the back. ‘I mean, it’s all so primitive, weeing onto those little sticks. I have the most expensive medical care in New York, you know.’

‘Well you can’t put a price on peace of mind,’ said Cate, going over to switch on the Dualit kettle.

‘If you are pregnant,’ she ventured cautiously, ‘would it be Michael’s or Tom’s?’

‘Jesus,’ said Serena, choking, ‘it’s bad enough as it is without you trying to make me out as some sort of slut!’

‘Come on, hardly,’ said Cate awkwardly. ‘But you did get into a relationship with Michael pretty quickly after you split with Tom, didn’t you?’

Serena threw Cate a withering look, snatched up the box and stalked up the stairs to Cate’s small white and wood bathroom. Perching on the side of Cate’s claw-foot bath, she sat silently for a moment, gripping the box tightly. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t been in this situation before. She remembered crouching in the gloomy bathroom at Huntsford, cold and alone, terrified that her father would come barging in and catch her. Then the test had been negative, but in many ways she would rather it had been positive then than now. After all, there was something rather decadent and careless about a teenage pregnancy. Jade Jagger had had her children young and she now was deliciously boho with her family trailing after her from London to New York and Ibiza. But not now, not when her career was on the verge of exploding into what she had always wanted it to be. Not now, God, please not now.

On the other side of the door, Cate sat on the top step leading to the bathroom, waiting for her sister and trying to prepare herself for either result, not knowing which would be best. Finally, Serena crept from behind the door and sat beside her, staring straight ahead. Cate put her hand on Serena’s and squeezed tightly; the superstar and the glossy magazine editor, just two confused and anxious girls sitting on the stairs. Serena slowly uncurled her fingers to reveal the white plastic stick. ‘There’s a line,’ she whispered. Cate reached out and pulled her sister close.

‘How accurate are these things?’ asked Serena weakly, passing the stick to Cate.

Cate looked down at the thick pink line. ‘Pretty accurate, I think, but you never know,’ she replied not too convincingly. ‘It will be OK, you know.’

‘I’ll get fat,’ said Serena weakly. ‘Tits like balloons and everything.’

‘Don’t worry,’ smiled Cate. ‘Chanel make clothes up to a size twenty.’

They almost laughed.

‘Catey, what should I do?’ sighed Serena, resting her head on her sister’s shoulder, all the bluster and confidence of the movie star gone now.

‘Let’s get an early night,’ said Cate. ‘We’ll talk about it in the morning.’

Serena couldn’t sleep. Tossing and turning on the lumpy bed in Cate’s spare room, her dilemma would simply not go away. In the rare minutes she did close her eyes and fall into slumber, her dreams were full of crocodiles and helterskelters and other things that Serena recognized from women’s magazines as pure anxiety dreams.