I exhale. ‘Really? You’re happy? I know it wasn’t what we—’
‘I’m over the moon, Zo.’ He kisses me and places a hand on my belly. ‘I can’t believe there’s a baby in there.’
‘I’m so glad you’re happy about it.’
‘Of course I am. It’s brilliant news. But it’s so hard to take in. A baby…’
‘It’s mad, isn’t it. I can’t believe it either.’
‘Mum and Dad will be ecstatic. And Nick. He’ll be an uncle!’
‘I wonder what my dad will think?’
‘He’ll be happy, surely?’
‘And Dina… I’ll have to give her a call. Tell her she’s going to be an aunty. Although she’s seven hours ahead over there so I’ll have to leave it until tomorrow morning. I wonder if she’ll come back to the UK after it’s born. I hope she does. I want her to be part of our lives.’ I realise that I mean it. It’s time we put the past behind us and moved on. If she’s willing to.
‘So when’s our little nipper due?’
‘Beginning of July.’
‘Amazing.’ Toby sits back down heavily, his eyes still wide, his breathing deep and slow.
‘Actually, I think I’m going to text Dina now. She’s a night owl so she might still be up. If not, she’ll see my message first thing tomorrow morning.’
‘Okay, while you’re doing that, I’ll go upstairs for a shower and then when I come down we should do something to celebrate. Go out for dinner, or a drink – oh no, you can’t drink now, can you?’
‘I don’t feel like it anyway. All I fancy doing is curling up on the sofa with a cuppa and some good telly – if that’s okay?’
‘All right, we’ll do that then. I’ll order in a takeaway.’ He shakes his head. ‘Still can’t believe we’re going to be parents! It doesn’t seem real.’
‘Tell me about it.’
As Toby bounds up the stairs, I draw my phone out of my bag. Before I can change my mind, I tap out a text to my sister. If she wants to ignore it, that’s her choice. But at least she won’t be able to accuse me of keeping her in the dark.
Hey, Dina, guess what? You’re going to be an aunty!
There’s no reply, but that doesn’t necessarily mean anything. It’s almost 1 a.m. in Thailand, so she’s probably asleep. Or more likely out partying. I’m sure she’ll reply tomorrow.
I lay my phone on the table, shrug off my coat and put the kettle on. Although I realise I’m not in the mood for tea or coffee. My taste buds must be out of whack. Instead, I pour myself a glass of water. My phone pings. Nervously, I check the screen and see that she’s replied.
Congrats
It’s not exactly the gushing response I was hoping for, but at least she replied. I need to keep the conversation going.
Thanks. Think you’ll be able to make it back for a visit?
The baby’s due in July. Dad would love to see you too.
She responds a moment later:
Not sure
From her short replies, I can tell she’s still cross. But I’m the one who should be angry, not her. If I can forgive her, surely she could be a little more enthusiastic.
I can pay for your flight home if that helps.
Okay, thanks. I’ll think about it.
