December EIGHT YEARS BEFORE . . .

December

E IGHT YEARS BEFORE . . .

9.00 P . M .

The words of her conversation with Jimmy still echoed in her thoughts as Madeleine hopped off the train and made her way back to her flat. Her phone beeped as a text came in from Marnie.

ALL OKAY DARLING? X

It was nearly nine o’clock and she was exhausted. Wiped out. It had been a long day – the longest. Her brain was fuddled.

HEADING BACK TO MY FLAT. I’LL CALL YOU TOMORROW MUM X

Marnie’s reply was instant.

YOUR DAD AND I ARE HERE FOR YOU, ALWAYS. WE LOVE YOU. PLEASE LET ME KNOW HOW YOU’RE FEELING IN THE MORNING. CAN I CALL YOU AFTER WORK TOMORROW? IF YOU NEED ANYTHING, ANYTHING AT ALL, JUST SHOUT. AND PLEASE, PLEASE THINK ABOUT WHAT WE SAID X

And so it began . . .

It was almost farcical. As if she could think about anything else.

She put the key in the door and was hit by the loud music coming from Meredith’s room, which was a sure indicator her flatmate had been on the sauce.

Liesl was on the sofa, flicking through the channels before settling on a documentary about coral reefs. Her greeting: ‘Did you get the eggs?’

‘I forgot.’

Slipping off her shoes, Madeleine sat down on the opposite end of the sofa and put her feet on the coffee table littered with the witness marks of wet coffee cups, burn marks from careless cigarettes left to smoulder, several ratty, smeared napkins, and an old pizza box. It was disgusting. Realisation dawned that it was no place to see out her pregnancy, and not a great idea to spend money on rent when she’d be at her parents’ flat before she gave birth and no doubt immediately afterwards. Her decision came to her as she voiced it.

‘I’m moving out.’

‘Oh my God, no! Don’t worry about the eggs, I can do without my omelette! I’ll have cheese on toast instead. Do we have cheese?’

‘I don’t know. And I’m not moving out because of your eggs. I need to go back to my mum and dad’s for a bit.’

‘No, no, don’t do it, babes. That’s never a good idea!’ Liesl pulled a face and Madeleine laughed for the first time that day.

‘Maybe not, but I need to go home, get myself together for a few months and then ...’

And then what, Edith-Madeleine? That was the million-dollar question.

‘Please don’t leave me with Luciano and Meredith, they are literally some of the worst human beings I’ve ever met. Luciano leaves hair in the sink and Meredith steals my moisturiser, and licks the teaspoons, I’ve seen her.’

Again Madeleine laughed. ‘You’ll survive. And who knows? Whoever takes my place might be your new best friend.’

‘Darling, everyone is my new best friend until I get to know them.’ Liesl took a drag on her cigarette. ‘And then I pretty much hate them. I hate everyone. But not you. You’re fabulous! That’s why you can’t leave me.’

‘I don’t feel very fabulous.’

‘Well, you should. What’s up, chick? You don’t seem yourself. And not just the leaving the flat thing. You seem ... down.’

‘I am a bit. But I have a plan and I know I won’t always feel this way.’

‘That’s the spirit! Set yourself a time limit and wallow until then, it works for me.’ She winked.

‘January the twenty-sixth. That’s the date or thereabouts. I think I’ll wallow until then.’ She bit her lip and tried to stem the emotion that threatened.

‘Flippin’ ’eck, that’s an age away! Nearly two whole months of sadness – do you know how long two months is?’

‘I do.’

Eight weeks of a pregnancy ... a little over twenty per cent of my gestation ... the end of the third trimester ...

‘And you reckon you can survive that?’

‘I reckon, Liesl, that I can survive just about anything.’

She hoped she sounded convincing.

‘Atta girl!’ Liesl blew her a kiss as she left the sofa and Madeleine headed for her room.

There was some peace to be found in her decision to go back to the Brenton Park estate, to live at home and be close to Marnie, closer to the hospital. It made sense for appointments, check-ups, and the birth itself. She shivered to think of it. And as for what came after the baby was born? Maybe it could work, letting Marnie and Doug raise her. Maybe her mum was right – it was for the best. Or if not the best, then certainly the least worst decision to help them all move forward. She could take leave from work, or work from home and return to the office after the baby was born, as if nothing had happened. Nothing at all ...

Having changed into her softest pyjamas and a pair of warm socks, she climbed beneath her duvet and opened her laptop, before googling: what happens when you have a baby? The images that filled the screen made her gasp. Quickly she closed it down, knowing that any level of detail was more than she could cope with tonight. It was after all only this morning that she found out she was pregnant. It was, as Trina had pointed out, a lot.

Trina ... How she wished she could call her.

Despite her physical fatigue, her thoughts whirred and she knew sleep would not be forthcoming. With her hair scraped back into a scrunchie, she opened up a new folder and named it ‘Old Berlin/New Foyer’. Her pulse raced as she scoured images with which she would start to build her mood board. And just like that she was in her happy place, studying wallpaper, lamps, paint, and furniture to build her vision.

The movement in her stomach was sudden, unexpected, and bizarre – a flutter almost, and she now understood it wasn’t the first time she had felt it. The difference was she now understood it wasn’t an undigested burrito, gas, the rumbling of a gut trying to break down a pie that was well past its sell-by date, or a reminder to eat more fibre ... She now knew it was her baby girl getting comfortable.

‘It’s okay. It’s okay, little one, go to sleep.’

Madeleine cried then, great gulping tears that robbed her breath of rhythm and left her feeling spent. Reaching down, she placed her hand on her stomach where her baby girl was nestled and palmed small circles on her skin.

‘I’m sorry, little one. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry you chose me, but your dad was right – it’ll all be okay. I promise, whatever happens, it will all be okay.’

Sinking further down into the pillow, she closed her eyes, hoping beyond hope that this was true.