Christmas at Little Beach Street Bakery
Page 11

‘Last night was quite fun!’ said Polly, who’d had two glasses of wine and considered herself almost ready to get in the Christmas spirit. ‘How are you? Still feeling poorly?’
She hadn’t even confessed to Huckle how hurt she felt at being left out of Kerensa’s news. So they’d been away a lot, but… eight months? Before she could think, she blurted out ‘Who doesn’t know they’re having a baby for eight months?’
‘Loads of people,’ said Kerensa defensively, as Marta came in and set out the tea on a side table. Polly would never get used to this kind of thing. ‘Some people don’t know they’re having a baby till they actually poo it down the toilet.’
‘Okay,’ said Polly. ‘Okay, okay, okay. It just seemed… Okay.’ She looked at her dear friend. ‘You just… I mean, are you happy about it? Your mum must be over the moon.’
‘She is,’ said Kerensa. She stirred her tea.
‘What’s up?’ said Polly, suddenly worried. Where was her mouthy, exuberant friend?
Kerensa let out a great sigh, and Polly moved forward on the huge overstuffed sofa she was sitting on.
‘What?’ she said. ‘Weren’t you ready, Kez? I mean, neither of us is getting any younger…’ She was conscious that she was trying out some of Huckle’s arguments on Kerensa. She was also curious as to whether her friend felt as ambivalent about the whole thing as she did.
To her horror, Kerensa suddenly dissolved in floods of tears.
‘What?’ said Polly, rushing to sit next to her. ‘What is it? What’s happened? Don’t you want the baby? What is it?’
Kerensa could barely choke out the words.
‘Do you remember in the spring… when Reuben was being such a putz?’
Polly cast her mind back. The problem was, Reuben was so often completely insufferable, it was hard to remember just one occasion.
‘D’you mean that time when he booked that band to play in the garden for his birthday then insisted on getting up and singing all the songs, and he was terrible and started yelling at people for not enjoying it?’
Kerensa shook her head. ‘No, not that.’
‘Was it the time he fell out with the telephone company and hired ninety-five people to cut the wires into their building, and MI5 thought he was planning a terrorist atrocity and he had to get himself that incredibly expensive lawyer?’
‘No, not that one either.’
Kerensa sighed.
‘Remember our anniversary?’
‘When he flew back from San Francisco because he felt guilty?’
‘Yes,’ said Kerensa, hanging her head.
‘And took you to loads of places and whisked you off to the States with him and it was all lovely and romantic?’
‘Yeah, all right,’ said Kerensa. ‘But leading up to that, he’d been totally awful.’
‘And…?’ said Polly.
‘Selina and I went out one night.’
Polly blinked, trying to remember.
‘Oh yes, she said you were really drunk. I don’t like people who tell other people that someone’s been really drunk.’
‘She didn’t say anything else?’
Polly remembered there had been an excited gossipy look on Selina’s face, but she hadn’t wanted to know about other people’s daft exploits – she had plenty of her own – and had just kept on working.
‘No,’ she said.
‘Honestly?’ said Kerensa. ‘I was too… Well. I didn’t want to…’
‘Is this why you haven’t been in touch?’ said Polly. ‘I thought it was because I was working too hard and didn’t make enough time for you.’
‘God, no,’ said Kerensa. ‘No. No. It wasn’t that.’
There was a long pause.
‘I sort of… and it was only that one time, and I was really cross and a bit drunk and… Well. I. Well. I maybe… slept with someone else.’ Kerensa hung her head.
Polly drew back, too shocked to speak.
‘You did what?’
‘I was really upset.’
‘So upset you fell on a willy?’ Polly immediately felt bad about saying that. ‘Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. And also, sorry.’
Kerensa wasn’t listening; her face was full of pain.
‘I don’t know what I was thinking. I was so annoyed and I went out to a bar and I had a couple of drinks and he happened to be there…’
Polly was shaking her head.
‘Why didn’t you just come and see me and vent?’
‘Because exactly this!’ said Kerensa. ‘Because I tried and you were off being ooh blah blah blah the most loved-up person in the world, and also you would have been so judgy, so, like, oh Reuben bought you a new car and a big house, you should be completely grateful, 1950s housewife style, that someone else is making all your decisions for you, instead of my perfect life where I’m running a business and have a devoted partner who respects me!’
The tears were coursing down her cheeks now. Polly shut her eyes.
‘But it’s okay now, though, right? It was a stupid mistake that came and then went away again. It doesn’t mean anything. You managed to deal with it and forget about it and just not do anything stupid like that again, right? You’re not here to tell me that…’
They both looked at the bump at the same time.
‘Oh no,’ said Polly.
‘It was only once,’ said Kerensa. ‘Well. One night.’
‘Yeah?’
‘I’ve… I mean, I woke up and felt awful and came back, and we made up straight away the next day. He flew back. We were fine. We ARE fine.’
She started to sob. Polly leant over to hug her.
‘Oh for CHRIST’S sake,’ said Polly. She was surprised how overwhelmed with sadness she was; how upset. Selfishly, she’d hoped Kerensa’s joy – her presumed joy – would rub off on her, make her more ready.
‘I know,’ said Kerensa. ‘Can we just handle the fact that I’m a terrible, horrible person and kind of move on?’
Polly swallowed hard. Kerensa had always been there for her; had provided her with a home, for God’s sake, when she was bankrupt and had nowhere to go. She owed her everything. They were best friends. But this: this was so big. Huge.