Shopaholic & Baby
Page 94
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I don’t know how long I lie there for. It feels like about thirty seconds. Or six hours. Afterward I work out it was about twenty minutes.
And then I hear the voices. His voice. And her voice. Approaching down the corridor.
“…hope you don’t mind…”
“No, absolutely. Luke, you did the right thing to call. So, how’s the patient?”
I open my eyes, and it’s a nightmare come true. There, looming in front of me, is Venetia.
She’s changed into a full-length strapless black taffeta ball gown with a swirly skirt. Her hair is pinned up in a chignon, and diamonds are flashing at her ears. She looks like a princess.
“Luke says you’re not feeling well, Becky?” Her smile is syrupy sweet. “Let’s have a look.”
“What are you doing here?” I spit out.
“Luke called me. He was worried!” Venetia puts a hand on my head and I flinch. “Let me see if you’ve got a temperature.” She sits on the bed with a rustle of taffeta and opens a little medical case.
“Luke, I don’t want her here!” With no warning, tears are spilling from my eyes. “I’m not ill!”
“Open.” Venetia is advancing a thermometer toward my mouth.
“No!” I turn my head away like a baby refusing its porridge.
“Come on, Becky,” Venetia says in cajoling tones. “I just want to take your temperature….”
“Becky.” Luke takes my hand. “Come on. We can’t take any risks.”
“I’m not ill—” My words are stifled as Venetia jams the thermometer in my mouth and stands up.
“I really don’t think she should come tonight,” she says in a low voice, drawing Luke aside. “Can you persuade her to stay here and rest?”
“Of course.” Luke nods. “Please send our apologies.”
“You’re staying behind too?” Venetia frowns. “Luke, I really think…” She beckons Luke out of the room and I can hear low murmurings coming from the corridor. A few moments later Luke appears around the door again, holding a jug of water.
Someone’s tied his bow tie up, I suddenly notice. I want to burst into tears.
“Becky. Sweetheart, Venetia thinks you should take it easy.”
I stare at him silently, the thermometer still in my mouth.
“I’ll stay with you, of course. If you want me to.” He hesitates awkwardly. “But…if you didn’t mind me popping out just for half an hour, there are a lot of people coming to this reunion I’d like to see.”
My throat is thickening. Fresh tears are springing to my eyes. I can see it all plainly now. He wants to go to the party with Venetia. They’ve probably engineered this whole thing.
What am I going to do, beg him not to? I’ve got more pride than that.
“Fine,” I mumble, turning my head away so he can’t see my tears. “Go.”
“What?”
“Fine.” I take the thermometer out of my mouth. “Go.”
There’s a rustle as Venetia comes into the room again. “Let’s have a look.” She studies the thermometer with a small frown. “Yes, you’re slightly feverish. Let’s give you some paracetamol….”
She hands me two tablets and I gulp them down with the water which Luke brought in.
“You’re sure you’ll be OK?” he says, watching me anxiously.
“Yes. Enjoy yourself.” I pull the duvet over my head and feel my tears drenching the pillow.
“Bye, sweetheart.” I can feel Luke patting the duvet. “Get some rest.”
There’s some muffled talking, and then in the distance I hear the door slam. That’s it. They’ve gone.
It’s about half an hour before I even move. I push back the duvet and wipe my wet eyes. I get out of bed, stagger into the bathroom, and look at myself. I’m a fright. My eyes are red and puffy. My cheeks are tear-stained. My hair is all over the place.
I splash my face with water and sit down on the edge of the bathtub. What am I going to do? I can’t just stay here all night, wondering and worrying and imagining the worst. I’d rather just catch them. I’d rather just see it for my own eyes.
I’ll go there. The thought hits me like a bullet.
I’ll go to the reunion right now, this minute. What’s to stop me? I’m not ill. I’m fine.
I head back into the bedroom with a fresh determination. I fling open my wardrobe doors and pull out a black chiffon maternity kaftan that I bought in the summer and never wore because it felt too tentlike. OK. Accessories. A few long, glittery necklaces…a pair of sparkly heels…diamond earrings…I wrench open my makeup case and apply as much as I can, as quickly as I can.
And then I hear the voices. His voice. And her voice. Approaching down the corridor.
“…hope you don’t mind…”
“No, absolutely. Luke, you did the right thing to call. So, how’s the patient?”
I open my eyes, and it’s a nightmare come true. There, looming in front of me, is Venetia.
She’s changed into a full-length strapless black taffeta ball gown with a swirly skirt. Her hair is pinned up in a chignon, and diamonds are flashing at her ears. She looks like a princess.
“Luke says you’re not feeling well, Becky?” Her smile is syrupy sweet. “Let’s have a look.”
“What are you doing here?” I spit out.
“Luke called me. He was worried!” Venetia puts a hand on my head and I flinch. “Let me see if you’ve got a temperature.” She sits on the bed with a rustle of taffeta and opens a little medical case.
“Luke, I don’t want her here!” With no warning, tears are spilling from my eyes. “I’m not ill!”
“Open.” Venetia is advancing a thermometer toward my mouth.
“No!” I turn my head away like a baby refusing its porridge.
“Come on, Becky,” Venetia says in cajoling tones. “I just want to take your temperature….”
“Becky.” Luke takes my hand. “Come on. We can’t take any risks.”
“I’m not ill—” My words are stifled as Venetia jams the thermometer in my mouth and stands up.
“I really don’t think she should come tonight,” she says in a low voice, drawing Luke aside. “Can you persuade her to stay here and rest?”
“Of course.” Luke nods. “Please send our apologies.”
“You’re staying behind too?” Venetia frowns. “Luke, I really think…” She beckons Luke out of the room and I can hear low murmurings coming from the corridor. A few moments later Luke appears around the door again, holding a jug of water.
Someone’s tied his bow tie up, I suddenly notice. I want to burst into tears.
“Becky. Sweetheart, Venetia thinks you should take it easy.”
I stare at him silently, the thermometer still in my mouth.
“I’ll stay with you, of course. If you want me to.” He hesitates awkwardly. “But…if you didn’t mind me popping out just for half an hour, there are a lot of people coming to this reunion I’d like to see.”
My throat is thickening. Fresh tears are springing to my eyes. I can see it all plainly now. He wants to go to the party with Venetia. They’ve probably engineered this whole thing.
What am I going to do, beg him not to? I’ve got more pride than that.
“Fine,” I mumble, turning my head away so he can’t see my tears. “Go.”
“What?”
“Fine.” I take the thermometer out of my mouth. “Go.”
There’s a rustle as Venetia comes into the room again. “Let’s have a look.” She studies the thermometer with a small frown. “Yes, you’re slightly feverish. Let’s give you some paracetamol….”
She hands me two tablets and I gulp them down with the water which Luke brought in.
“You’re sure you’ll be OK?” he says, watching me anxiously.
“Yes. Enjoy yourself.” I pull the duvet over my head and feel my tears drenching the pillow.
“Bye, sweetheart.” I can feel Luke patting the duvet. “Get some rest.”
There’s some muffled talking, and then in the distance I hear the door slam. That’s it. They’ve gone.
It’s about half an hour before I even move. I push back the duvet and wipe my wet eyes. I get out of bed, stagger into the bathroom, and look at myself. I’m a fright. My eyes are red and puffy. My cheeks are tear-stained. My hair is all over the place.
I splash my face with water and sit down on the edge of the bathtub. What am I going to do? I can’t just stay here all night, wondering and worrying and imagining the worst. I’d rather just catch them. I’d rather just see it for my own eyes.
I’ll go there. The thought hits me like a bullet.
I’ll go to the reunion right now, this minute. What’s to stop me? I’m not ill. I’m fine.
I head back into the bedroom with a fresh determination. I fling open my wardrobe doors and pull out a black chiffon maternity kaftan that I bought in the summer and never wore because it felt too tentlike. OK. Accessories. A few long, glittery necklaces…a pair of sparkly heels…diamond earrings…I wrench open my makeup case and apply as much as I can, as quickly as I can.
