Anybody Out There?
Page 98

Gave him little smile, he looked quite bereft.
So there you are, all over, not shot, nothing to worry about, you big wussy wuss-girl.
It was a relief to know that she wasn’t putting herself in danger any longer. (If she ever had been.) Funnily enough, now that it was over, I had to admit that I was slightly curious—had Detta really been giving Harry’s secrets to Racey? It was strange because it felt more like a soap opera than real life, but unlike a soap opera, it had come to an abrupt end.
Over the next two weeks, Wendell and I were put through myriad run-throughs of the pitch so that we were letter-perfect. Ariella and Franklin cross-examined us, pretending to be the Devereaux executives. They flung queries on costings, timings, customer profile, competitors—every conceivable question we might be asked. Then some of the other senior girls were brought in to see if any questions had been left unasked, so there would be no surprises on the big day.
I went along with it even though I knew I wouldn’t be there.
But I’d co-opted Teenie; we’d gone for lunch and I’d sworn her to secrecy.
“The pitch on Wednesday? I can’t make it.”
“Wha—?”
“You do my pitch. Cover yourself in glory.”
“But, oh my God! I mean, like, you can’t be…Ariella will go crazy.”
“Yes, and then she’ll need someone to do my pitch. Make sure it’s you. Do not let Lauryn muscle in on this.”
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: All is revealed
Dear Anna,
You’ll never guess who Nan O’Shea is. Go on, have a go. You’ll never get it. I’ll give you a hint. It is all your father’s fault. Something I should have known all along. Go on, guess. I’m not going to tell you yet. I want you to have a good long guess at it. Wait’ll you hear, though—you’ll never believe it!
Your loving mother,
Mum
On the eve of the pitch, Wendell and I were put through our paces one final time. At about six-thirty, Ariella called it a day.
“Okay, that’s enough,” she said. “Let’s keep it fresh.”
“See you tomorrow, Anna,” Franklin said meaningfully.
“Bright and early,” I said.
I hadn’t decided if I would come in after the phone call with Neris, or if I would simply never come back.
Just in case, I took my framed photo of Aidan off my desk, put it in my bag, and said good-bye to Teenie and Brooke.
77
It felt like the night before the most important day of my life. I couldn’t settle to anything. I was excited, but also anxious.
Aidan, what if you don’t come through? How will I cope? Where can I go from there?
When the phone rang I jumped. It was Kevin; I let the machine pick up. “Anna,” he said. “I gotta talk to you, this is urgent, urgent, urgent. Call me.”
I barely registered it.
Sometime later—I had no idea how long—my buzzer went. I ignored it but it rang again. On the third go, I answered. Whoever was out there wanted to talk to me pretty badly.
It was Jacqui. “You’ll never guess,” she said.
“So tell me.”
“I’m pregnant.”
I stared at her and she stared back at me. “What?” she said.
“What what?”
“You looked weird.”
I’d felt weird. My womb had sort of twanged.
“Are you jealous?” she asked. Just like that.
“Yes,” I said. Just like that.
“I’m sorry. And I don’t even want to be effing pregnant. Isn’t life shit?”
“Yes. And isn’t this a bit fast? You’re only barely in love.”
“Do you know when it happened? The first night. The first effing night! When you were in the Hamptons. Can you believe it? Condom burst, I meant to get the morning-after, but we spent the next three days in bed and I forgot about it and then it was too late. I’m only six weeks’ pregnant but they count from your last period, so I’m officially eight weeks.”
“Does Narky Joey know?”
She shook her head. “No, and when I tell him, he’ll break up with me.”
“But he’s mad about you.”
She shook her head. “Dopamine. Teenie explained it to me at your birthday—she knows a lot, that girl—when men think they’re in love, it’s only because their brain is producing too much dopamine. It usually goes away after the first year, which explains a lot. But if I tell him I’m pregnant, I bet it’ll go away immediately.”
“Why would it?”
“Narky Joey doesn’t want responsibility.”
“But…”
“It’s too soon. We barely know each other. Maybe if it had happened in six months’ time we might have been secure enough to take it, but it’s too soon.”
“Talk to him about it, it might all be okay.”
“Maybe.”
I made myself say it, but curiously I didn’t want to. “You do have other options.”
“I know. I’ve been thinking.” Pause. “Being pregnant isn’t the horrible disaster it would have been five years ago, or even three years. Back then, I’d no security, I hadn’t a bean, and I’d definitely have had a termination. But now…I have an apartment, I have a well-paid job—it’s not their fault that I can’t live within my means—and I sort of like the idea of having a baby round the place.”
“Um…Jacqui, having a baby is a huge life-changing event. It’s not like getting a Labradoodle. You mightn’t even be able to do your well-paid job. Are you sure you’ve really thought this through?”
“Oh yeah! It’ll cry a lot, I’ll be skint.” She paused, “Skinter; I’ll look like a hag, my nanny will steal from me, but it’ll be fun! Let’s hope I get a girl baby, their clothes are much nicer.”
Then she burst into tears.
“Thank God,” I said. “That’s the first normal thing you’ve done.”
After she left, I tried but never got properly to sleep. I just skimmed the surface and was fully awake again by 5 A.M. I was also in worse pain than usual—something to do with my heightened emotional state? I watched the clock count down to eight-thirty, when I would finally get to talk to Aidan. My stomach churned and I felt tingly and sick. To pass the time, I got my e-mails.