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‘That’s good.’ Marcy smiles. ‘But I was talking about you. You look as pale as a ghost.’
‘Oh, um, I’m fine,’ I lie as an acidy belch squirms up the back of my throat and almost makes me throw up on my shoes.
‘I don’t know why they call it morning sickness,’ Marcy begins. ‘Feckin’ thing goes on all day. I was worse in the evenings on my three.’
My hand flies to cover my mouth, and I shake my head. ‘Oh, Marcy. How did you know?’
‘Your grandmother told me.’
‘Nana?’ My eyes widen. ‘Nana knows? Oh my God, I don’t believe it.’
‘She’s an astute lady, your grandmother. I don’t think much gets past her.’ Marcy winks.
‘Oh, Marcy. I didn’t want to tell anyone. Not now. Not with Nana so sick.’
‘Does your mother know?’ Marcy asks.
I shake my head.
‘Your father or Ben?’
I shake again.
‘How about the baby’s father?’ Marcy whispers.
‘Yeah. He knows. But it’s complicated.’
‘Oh, dear.’ Marcy’s shoulders round as she gets a little closer to me and lowers her voice even more. ‘Is he not happy?’
‘He was,’ I say. ‘He was so happy. We both were but…’ I drag my hand through my hair unsure if I can bring myself to say the next words out loud.
‘Marcy. Hi. You’re early,’ Ben says, appearing at the bottom of the stairs behind us.
‘Hi, Ben.’ Marcy straightens up.
‘Mam’s upstairs with Nana now,’ Ben says, ‘if you want to go up.’
‘Yeah. I’ll do that.’ Marcy winks at me. ‘You get yourself a bite to eat, Holly. And I’ll chat to you more later, won’t I?’
‘Sure,’ I smile. ‘Later.’
Ben waits until Marcy is out of earshot to talk. ‘Did I interrupt something?’
I shake my head.
‘You’re a terrible liar, Holly. Do you know that?’
I shrug.
‘Well, if you do want to talk, I’m here,’ Ben says. ‘Always here.’
‘Thanks, Ben,’ I say. ‘I appreciate that. I don’t really want to talk about anything right now though, okay?’
‘Um, I understand, Hols.’ Ben nods. ‘But there’s someone here who really wants to talk to you.’
My eyes sway towards the kitchen door. My father’s been hiding in there most of the day. Either he’s giving my mother some space, or he’s feeling awkward and uncomfortable and doesn’t have any idea what to do with himself.
Ben shakes his head. ‘Not Dad, Hols,’ he says as if he can read my mind. ‘Nate’s here.’
