Shopaholic & Baby
Page 2
- Background:
- Text Font:
- Text Size:
- Line Height:
- Line Break Height:
- Frame:
“I’m sorry,” I gulp, wiping my eyes with a tissue she hands me. “It’s just such a relief.”
“Everything seems absolutely fine as far as I can tell,” she says reassuringly. “And don’t worry, it’s normal to be emotional in pregnancy. All those hormones swilling about.”
Honestly. People keep talking about hormones. Like Luke last night, when I cried over that TV ad with the puppy. I’m not hormonal, I’m perfectly normal. It was just a very sad ad.
“Here you go.” The sonographer taps at her keyboard again. A row of black-and-white scan pictures curls out of the printer, which she hands to me. I peer at the first one — and you can see the distinct outline of a head. It’s got a little nose and a mouth and everything.
“So. I’ve done all the checks.” She swivels round on her chair. “All I need to know now is whether you want to know the gender of the baby.”
“No, thank you,” Luke answers with a smile. “We’ve talked it through at great length, haven’t we, Becky? And we both feel it would spoil the magic to find out.”
“Very well.” The sonographer smiles back. “If that’s what you’ve decided, I won’t say anything.”
She “won’t say anything”? That means she’s already seen what the sex is. She could just tell us right now!
“We hadn’t actually decided, had we?” I say. “Not for definite.”
“Well…yes, we had, Becky.” Luke seems taken aback. “Don’t you remember, we talked about it for a whole evening and agreed we wanted it to be a surprise.”
“Oh right, yes.” I can’t take my eyes off the blurry print of the baby. “But we could have our surprise now! It would be just as magical!”
OK, maybe that’s not exactly true. But isn’t he desperate to know?
“Is that really what you want?” As I look up I can see a streak of disappointment in Luke’s face. “To find out now?”
“Well…” I hesitate. “Not if you don’t want to.”
The last thing I want is to upset Luke. He’s been so sweet and loving to me since I’ve been pregnant. Recently I’ve had cravings for all sorts of odd combinations — like the other day I had this sudden weird desire for pineapple and a pink cardigan. And Luke drove me to the shops especially to get them.
He’s about to say something, when his mobile phone starts ringing. He whips it out of his pocket and the sonographer puts up a hand.
“I’m sorry, but you can’t use that in here.”
“Right.” Luke frowns as he sees the caller display. “It’s Iain. I’d better call him back.”
I don’t need to ask which Iain. It’ll be Iain Wheeler, the chief marketing honcho of the Arcodas Group. Luke has his own PR company, Brandon Communications, and Arcodas is Luke’s big new client. It was a real coup when he won them and it’s given a fantastic boost to the company — he’s already hired more staff and is planning to open loads of new European offices on the back of it.
So it’s all wonderful for Brandon Communications. But as usual, Luke’s working himself into the ground. I’ve never seen him so at anyone’s beck and call before. If Iain Wheeler calls, he always, always calls him back within five minutes, whether he’s in another meeting, or he’s having supper, or even if it’s the middle of the night. He says it’s the service industry and Arcodas is his mega-client, and that’s what they’re paying for.
All I can say is, if Iain Wheeler calls while I’m in labor, then that phone is going straight out the window.
“Is there a landline I can use nearby?” Luke is asking the sonographer. “Becky, you don’t mind….”
“It’s fine.” I wave a hand.
“I’ll show you,” the sonographer says, getting up. “I’ll be back in a moment, Mrs. Brandon.”
The two of them disappear out the door, which closes with a heavy clunk.
I’m alone. The computer is still on. The ultrasound probe thing is resting next to the monitor.
I could just reach over and—
No. Don’t be silly. I don’t even know how to use an ultrasound. And besides, it would spoil the magical surprise. If Luke wants us to wait, then we’ll wait.
I shift on the couch and examine my nails. I can wait for things. Of course I can. I can easily—
Oh God. No I can’t. Not till December. And it’s all right there in front of me…and nobody’s about….
I’ll just have a teeny peek. Just really quickly. And I won’t tell Luke. We’ll still have the magical surprise at the birth — except it won’t be quite so much of a surprise for me. Exactly.
“Everything seems absolutely fine as far as I can tell,” she says reassuringly. “And don’t worry, it’s normal to be emotional in pregnancy. All those hormones swilling about.”
Honestly. People keep talking about hormones. Like Luke last night, when I cried over that TV ad with the puppy. I’m not hormonal, I’m perfectly normal. It was just a very sad ad.
“Here you go.” The sonographer taps at her keyboard again. A row of black-and-white scan pictures curls out of the printer, which she hands to me. I peer at the first one — and you can see the distinct outline of a head. It’s got a little nose and a mouth and everything.
“So. I’ve done all the checks.” She swivels round on her chair. “All I need to know now is whether you want to know the gender of the baby.”
“No, thank you,” Luke answers with a smile. “We’ve talked it through at great length, haven’t we, Becky? And we both feel it would spoil the magic to find out.”
“Very well.” The sonographer smiles back. “If that’s what you’ve decided, I won’t say anything.”
She “won’t say anything”? That means she’s already seen what the sex is. She could just tell us right now!
“We hadn’t actually decided, had we?” I say. “Not for definite.”
“Well…yes, we had, Becky.” Luke seems taken aback. “Don’t you remember, we talked about it for a whole evening and agreed we wanted it to be a surprise.”
“Oh right, yes.” I can’t take my eyes off the blurry print of the baby. “But we could have our surprise now! It would be just as magical!”
OK, maybe that’s not exactly true. But isn’t he desperate to know?
“Is that really what you want?” As I look up I can see a streak of disappointment in Luke’s face. “To find out now?”
“Well…” I hesitate. “Not if you don’t want to.”
The last thing I want is to upset Luke. He’s been so sweet and loving to me since I’ve been pregnant. Recently I’ve had cravings for all sorts of odd combinations — like the other day I had this sudden weird desire for pineapple and a pink cardigan. And Luke drove me to the shops especially to get them.
He’s about to say something, when his mobile phone starts ringing. He whips it out of his pocket and the sonographer puts up a hand.
“I’m sorry, but you can’t use that in here.”
“Right.” Luke frowns as he sees the caller display. “It’s Iain. I’d better call him back.”
I don’t need to ask which Iain. It’ll be Iain Wheeler, the chief marketing honcho of the Arcodas Group. Luke has his own PR company, Brandon Communications, and Arcodas is Luke’s big new client. It was a real coup when he won them and it’s given a fantastic boost to the company — he’s already hired more staff and is planning to open loads of new European offices on the back of it.
So it’s all wonderful for Brandon Communications. But as usual, Luke’s working himself into the ground. I’ve never seen him so at anyone’s beck and call before. If Iain Wheeler calls, he always, always calls him back within five minutes, whether he’s in another meeting, or he’s having supper, or even if it’s the middle of the night. He says it’s the service industry and Arcodas is his mega-client, and that’s what they’re paying for.
All I can say is, if Iain Wheeler calls while I’m in labor, then that phone is going straight out the window.
“Is there a landline I can use nearby?” Luke is asking the sonographer. “Becky, you don’t mind….”
“It’s fine.” I wave a hand.
“I’ll show you,” the sonographer says, getting up. “I’ll be back in a moment, Mrs. Brandon.”
The two of them disappear out the door, which closes with a heavy clunk.
I’m alone. The computer is still on. The ultrasound probe thing is resting next to the monitor.
I could just reach over and—
No. Don’t be silly. I don’t even know how to use an ultrasound. And besides, it would spoil the magical surprise. If Luke wants us to wait, then we’ll wait.
I shift on the couch and examine my nails. I can wait for things. Of course I can. I can easily—
Oh God. No I can’t. Not till December. And it’s all right there in front of me…and nobody’s about….
I’ll just have a teeny peek. Just really quickly. And I won’t tell Luke. We’ll still have the magical surprise at the birth — except it won’t be quite so much of a surprise for me. Exactly.
