‘You sound like Nathan’s mum, Gloria. She’s gone all mother hen since Nathan gave her the news this morning. We just couldn’t wait, we’re so excited. Anyway, she emailed me a link to some article she read about first trimester do’s and don’t’s.’ Sam laughs and shakes her curls back.
‘It’s nice that she cares though. I bet she’s over the moon,’ I say, remembering how Gloria was on the night of their wedding. She’d joined me on the veranda as I looked out across the lush green fields, bathed in the glow from an orange sunset, just to ask me to confirm again that Sam definitely wanted lots of babies. ‘You can’t be too careful these days with you girls leaving it later and later,’ Gloria had said, her eyes all eager and sparkly as she clasped my hands in hers. And Sam isn’t even thirty yet!
‘It is, but … ’ Sam’s voice trails off and she looks away.
‘I know,’ I say, reaching across the table to stroke her arm.
‘Dad would have been so thrilled. And he’d have made a wonderful doting granddad. Probably have set up a trust fund and registered the baby for the best schools in the country by now,’ Sam says, smiling wryly and giving her stomach a stroke.
‘You can still do that,’ I say gently, thinking of Sam’s massive inheritance. She’s a woman of considerable financial means and could certainly afford to take her pick of schools. ‘If you want to, of course.’
‘We’ll see. But not boarding school. Even though I loved it, I’m not sure I could bear being away from my child. Not like … ’ Sam picks the side of her nail and I wonder if she’s thinking about her mum. ‘I’ve been pondering on whether or not I should try to contact my mother?’ she adds, confirming my thoughts.
‘Have you?’ I ask softly, not really sure of what else to say. Sam has never mentioned this before.
‘I don’t know. Being pregnant has changed things in my head, made me curious to understand how she could just leave me. A little girl.’
‘Oh Sam, she didn’t leave you. She left your dad, Alfie.’
‘Maybe. But then why didn’t she ever call me from LA? Was it really too much trouble for her to pick up a phone to ask how I was?’
‘Perhaps she just wasn’t cut out to be a mum,’ I say quietly, and immediately feel anxious, scared in case I’ve crossed an imaginary line. A short silence follows. ‘I bet she thinks about you every day, though,’ I quickly add. Sam shrugs. ‘And you will be a fantastic mother. You’re lovely and warm and caring, just like Alfie was.’
‘Thank you.’ Sam turns to face me. ‘Anyway, I’m convinced there are twins in here,’ she says to change the subject. After casting a quick glance around the café to make sure nobody is looking, she quickly loops her apron off over her head and pulls up her top before pushing out her tiny, size-six waist. ‘Have you seen the size of me?’
‘Don’t be daft. Your tummy is still flat.’
‘Hmmm. But not for much longer, and I intend on making the most of it.’ She nudges me gently before taking a massive forkful of a very gooey-looking slice of chocolate cheesecake. ‘Soo, tell me about your day,’ she says, wiping crumbs from her lips. Sam is one of those people that really can eat whatever they want and stay slim. I imagine she’ll have a tiny bump despite eating for two … or even three.
‘Oh Sam, it’s the story of my life. Well “love life” to be precise. Tom and I are over before we really began,’ I say, keeping my voice low so as not to be overheard.
‘What do you mean, over?’
‘Over! As in split up.’
‘Whaat? I don’t believe it. Just like that?’ Sam makes wide eyes.
‘Yep, just like that.’
Sam lets out a long whistle. I’ve told her everything. The NDA. Tom thinking I’d love the surprise of being in a reality show. Hannah and her colour chart. Zara snaffling two high-end designer bags for herself. Right down to her having the hots for Tom and practically chewing her own collar right through to escape Carrington’s, just so she can sink her perfect veneers into him in Paris – the city of love, after all.
‘So, let me get this straight – he suggested you call it a day and you agreed?’ Sam says, raising an eyebrow as she scoops off a marshmallow and pops it into her mouth.
‘That’s right. Two can play at his game.’
‘But hang on … you didn’t actually want to split up?’
‘Of course not,’ I say, feebly.
‘Hmm, and how do feel now?’ she asks.
‘Like I wish I’d never said the things I did.’
‘So what are you going to do?’
‘I don’t know. Talk to him, I guess?’
‘Good, because one of you has to be sensible. You can’t just split up over nothing.’
‘It’s not nothing.’
‘OK, he kept a secret, and not for the first time, granted – but still, it would be such a shame. You two are good together.’ I manage a wry smile. ‘I’m sure it’ll be fine. You can sort this out. I promise.’ Sam points to a generous slice of Battenberg on the top shelf of the cake stand and raises her eyebrows encouragingly. I waver before shaking my head.
‘No, thank you. I’m stuffed.’ I’ve already eaten my way though a red velvet cupcake and a delicious Christmas stollen slice smothered in dusty white icing sugar with an edible sprig of holly on top. I clutch my stomach.
‘Why don’t you just call him now and see if you can sort it out?’ Sam tilts her head to one side. I hesitate.
‘Because, I, well … ’
‘You want him to contact you?’ she finishes for me, and I nod. ‘From what you’ve told me, you could have a wait – you know how “gentlemanly” he can be?’ Sam does speech marks in the air and smiles. ‘That year he spent at the exclusive polo school in Argentina certainly wasn’t wasted. They turn out royalty too, you know.’ She raises an eyebrow. ‘So, my guess is he’ll respect your decision, even if he didn’t really want to split up and it was just all in the heat of the moment. If he’s gone away thinking it’s what you want, then … ’
‘But what if Zara does go to Paris? You’ve seen how stunning she is. She makes Rosie Huntington-Whiteley look dowdy, for God’s sake.’
‘Georgie, have a bit more faith. You’re gorgeous too. Plus Tom isn’t like that. He’s not going to jump straight into bed with Zara. She may well fancy him, but that doesn’t mean the feeling is mutual. Besides, he’ll probably be back soon, won’t he? And then you two can talk properly?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Didn’t you ask?’
‘No, I just wanted to get out of his office as fast as I could,’ I say, mulling over what she’s said.
‘Never
