Annabel peered closer. “Whatever her day job is, tell her not to give it up for cake decorating.”
More looks, which Annabel followed. She frowned. “Is there something I need to know? Something to take my mind off the giant bowling ball currently trying to stop me from breathing?”
“Nothing.” Morgan shook her head. “She just wanted to try baking.” She walked over to the roof. “For a first time, it’s not bad.”
“Now I know there must be something you’re not telling me. You’d normally be right here with me, laughing too.”
Morgan shot her sister a look.
The silence hung in the air.
Annabel tried to take the temperature of the room, then gave up and sat down.
“Josh, I need a cup of tea.” She scowled at him.
Josh stood up too quickly, cracking his head on the dining table light fixture. He winced, but ignored any pain, knowing this wasn’t his moment. “On it!”
“She was here later than I imagined she might be,” Morgan’s mum piped up.
“Who?” Morgan asked, dread pooling in her stomach.
“Ali. I heard you in the lounge.” Mum paused. “Didn’t we, Roger?”
Her dad nodded his head, then stared at his feet.
Morgan wanted to die on the spot. Had they heard the sex, or the arguing?
The sound of Josh filling the kettle pierced the moment, and Morgan had never been so pleased. She wanted to kiss him.
“I’m still not letting this go,” Annabel began—quickly followed by a scream.
Morgan swivelled her head to see her sister staring at the floor. When she raised her head, her face was ashen.
“Fuck, fuckety, fuck!” Annabel lifted one foot, then the other. “I think my water just broke. Looks like this baby wants out a little sooner than planned. Damn it, I hope it’s not born on Christmas Day. He or she will hate me for the rest of his or her life. I know I would.”
“I don’t think you get much choice in the matter.” Their mum took off her apron and handed it to Morgan. “Roger, get the car keys.”
Annabel shook her head. “It could be ages yet, Mum, and I haven’t even had a contraction.” Right at that moment, she doubled over. “Okay, first contraction!” she shouted.
Alarm spread over Josh’s and Mum’s faces.
Her dad stepped in. “You and Josh are her birthing team, so we all need to go, just in case. I’ll drive us to the hospital. Are you okay finishing up the dinner and driving your mum’s car over later?”
Morgan nodded. “Of course.”
Moments later, coats were back on, and Annabel was escorted to the car.
“If you have it quickly, you could be back in time for the turkey!” Morgan shouted.
She got a middle finger from the pregnant woman in return.
* * *
Even though hermum was in her sister’s birthing party, she still found time to message Morgan with precise instructions for finishing the Christmas dinner.
‘The potatoes need longer than you think. The parsnips need honey and garlic powder. Make sure you whisk the gravy with the meat juices once it’s rested. The turkey comes out at midday!’ It made Morgan smile. There was no way she was doing that with the gravy either. Seemed a bit much. She’d add the meat juices to a jug of Bisto and hope her mum was too wowed by her new grandchild to notice.
Keeping busy also meant she was distracted, and so less likely to think about the last few days. About last night. About baking gingerbread in this very kitchen with Ali. Getting fucked on the lounge floor by Ali. Morgan’s insides pulsed and her cheeks flushed with warmth at the memory. Even if they would be the shortest-lived couple of the century—did they even count as a couple?—she’d look back on the last few days with a certain fondness. She was still getting over how good she and Ali Bradford were together. Also, how stubborn Ali was once she’d made up her mind. Even when she was clearly breaking both their hearts. Definitely Morgan’s. She could only hope Ali felt the same deep down.
