CLAIRE
It was only a few days since Claire had left Jonah and San Diego behind but his absence was already an aching void in her chest. Even though he’d never lived with her in 77 Gladstone Road, she missed his presence in every nook and cranny of the house as if he were a permanent fixture that had been removed. She was counting down the days that they’d be together again, even if the purpose for him being there
was
for what had the potential to be the most unsavoury episode of her life: the court case. The anxiety about the imminent hearing was hovering over her like a black cloud. Without Jonah’s reassuring presence, doubt crept into her mind like an unwelcome parasite.
Keeping busy helped keep the demons at bay. She was currently en route to visit Orlando Goodman and after that she was heading to
Morning Cuppa
for a meeting with Editor Richard followed by lunch with Georgia. And then tonight was the night. Tonight she would tell Miriam not just about the babies but about her plans to relocate to America. Three key conversations would take place in just one day. She was apprehensive about all of them but it was the one which would happen at home, later, that filled her with the most dread. What if Miriam hated the idea of bidding farewell to her friends? What if she hated the concept of yet another new sibling, let alone that two of them would arrive simultaneously? What if she blamed her mother for ruining her life? Thankfully the cycle of torturous ‘what-ifs’ was broken by her arrival at Orlando’s Kings Cross maisonette. As she stepped out of her car she soberly reminded herself how insignificant her troubles were compared to Orlando’s.
She tugged at the doorbell pulley, smiling at the church bell peels which rang out in response. Orlando opened the door. Despite the fact that he was beaming, he looked ghostly. How on earth was he carrying on performing in the theatre?
“Finally,” she picked her words carefully. “It’s wonderful to be with you in the flesh instead of seeing you on a screen,”
She felt this even more acutely with Jonah, who she’d spoken to on Skype several times since returning to London. Granted, it was miraculous that technology allowed you to see a person as you spoke to them on the other side of the world but that’s where the magic ended. She now considered that seeing someone you love frozen behind a glass panel was a cruel tease. It reminded you of quite how far away and untouchable they were. Orlando closed the front door and pulled her in for a hug, instead of his usual double kiss air greeting.
“Dahling, you’re looking more radiant than ever. May I?”
His hand hovered above her stomach, waiting for permission. She nodded. He closed his eyes as the flat of his palm met her lower abdomen which was covered loosely in a thin white muslin shirt. About a half minute passed until he raised his hand and opened his eyes.
“I know what you’re going to have,” he said.
“Excuse me?”
“There’s a psychic gene running through my family. Disbelieve me if you will, but I can tell the sex of your babies.”
Claire rolled her eyes, chuckling.
“Jonah’s latest guess is that it’s a boy and a girl.”
Or was it two girls? He changed his mind the whole time. Orlando led her into the kitchen where he found a pad of yellow post-its and started writing. Once finished, he tore off the slip of paper and handed it to her. The note was signed and dated.
I predict you’re having two boys.
“We’ll see,” she laughed.
Claire slipped the note into her bag and swapped it for a small carton which she handed over.
“This is for you.”
“Salty Sisters?” read Orlando, perusing the box.
“I bought you these in San Diego,” she explained. “Salty Sisters are two Californian women who started up a company which makes salted toffees. They are the most sensational thing you will ever put in your mouth and dangerously addictive.”
She’d been with Miriam and Martha shopping in Whole Foods when one of the Salty Sisters offered them samples to taste: salted toffees, salted caramels, some coated in chocolate, others iced in coffee. Whilst the salty sister and Claire chatted, the girls quietly gorged on the samples, practically depleting supplies. Partly because she was embarrassed and partly because Claire herself found the confectionary divine, she bought more than a dozen boxes back to the UK as presents.
“They’re packed with sugar,” Orlando read the label. “I thought I wasn’t allowed sugar.”
She wondered if what she was about to say was breaking the Nutritionist’s code of conduct.
“Some things,” she said “are worth breaking rules for. At least they’re gluten-free and I’m sure a little a day won’t hurt you.”
Orlando sat down at the table and patted the bench next to him.
“I wanted to thank you so much,” he said as she sat down. “I really value all that you’ve done for me. You’ve been a real source of support and comfort, even from the other side of the Atlantic.”
“It’s been my pleasure,” she said, taking out her notebook. “So tell me, how are things? Is the mistletoe therapy still working for you? Do you feel as if you’re improving?”
He shook his head and removed the pen and notebook from her clasp, laying them on the table.
“There’s nothing more you can do for me Claire,” he said. “I’m literally riddled with the stuff. Every day that I’m here is borrowed time. I’d prefer to hear about those little boys growing inside of you as well as that not so little boy of yours that lives in America. What does the future hold for you? And before you go, we must put a date in the diary for me to meet him.”
----------------------
Three hours later, Claire and Georgia were sitting in Gourmet Pizza, a bustling artisan restaurant on the South Bank, overlooking the Thames. Georgia was tucking hungrily into her Hawaiian pizza whilst Claire toyed with her avocado and bacon salad.
“I’m not hungry,” Claire complained. “I don’t know if it’s the jet lag or because seeing Orlando was so upsetting, or the hormones -
“The
hormones?
” Georgia quizzed.
Oops, Claire had forgotten that her pregnancy was still a secret. Damn, she hated lying, but she shouldn’t tell Georgia when even Miriam wasn’t yet aware.
“Um, yes,” she forked a tiny cube of avocado into her mouth, “I’m premenstrual.”
Georgia screwed up her eyes and looked down at Claire’s belly.
“I’m a witch too,” she said.
“What do you mean?”
“I know that you’re pregnant.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Every time I suggested that you order something which contained goats cheese you straight away snapped ‘no’. I know that you normally
love
goat’s cheese. So I can only deduce that means you’re pregnant. See, now that
I’m
pregnant, I know the things that you’re not supposed to eat.”
Georgia smiled smugly, displaying pride in her detective skills.
“That’s really not it at all,” Claire stuttered.
“Oh, come on,” Georgia wouldn’t let it go. “I can
see
that you’re pregnant. You’re showing.”
“How do you know I haven’t just got fat and am now very insulted?”
“Because your boobs are enormous,” Georgia whispered, illustrating quite how big they were with her hands.
Claire knew she couldn’t keep up the pretence.
“That’s because there are two,” she whispered back.
“Thankfully there are two,” Georgia was confused. She still thought they were talking about breasts.
“Two
babies
,” Claire hissed.
Georgia’s eyes widened.
“Twins?” she mouthed.
Claire nodded. And then she started crying.
“I’m sorry,” she apologised. “I’m tired and seem to be crying at everything at the moment. And I miss Jonah.”
She’d put a date in the diary for Jonah to meet Orlando just before the court case. At the back of her mind now was the thought: I hope he makes it. Georgia got up to hug her.
“That’s wonderful news. Our children will be the same age and can grow up together.”
“Oh Georgia,” Claire touched her friends arm, suddenly piqued by the thought that if all went as planned, her best friend Georgia wouldn’t be round the corner any more. Miriam wasn’t the only one who would lose out. There would be adjustments for them all. “There’s so much to tell you.”
“So tell me, that’s what I’m here for.”
The next hour was pure catharsis as Georgia listened to her friend’s American escapades. “I often think about the fact that if you and Jonah hadn’t crossed paths in that studio, none of this would be happening. I’ve got you and fate to thank for that,” said Claire, patting a hand on her stomach and adding: “and these.” She paused a second, contemplating. “And I’ve got you to thank for me getting that job at ABC. Without you I wouldn’t even be working in TV. Georgia, you
are
a witch. You have single-handedly helped turn my life around. What am I going to do without you?”
“I’m not going anywhere,” Georgia said.
Claire stilled and laid down her fork.
“No, but
I
probably am.”
Claire admitted this with a hint of sadness, but Georgia insisted it was the right thing to do, reminding her that the world wasn’t such a big place anymore. There were holidays and Georgia promised resolutely that, from now on, she would always spend hers in America.
“I’m jumping the gun,” Claire became pensive. “I’ve asked for permission to take Miriam out the country. There’s a hearing on September 15
th
but there’s every possibility that the Judge will say ‘no’. I’m sure Anthony won’t give up without a fight.”
Georgia reassured Claire that the law always favoured keeping children with their mother. Claire hadn’t yet mentioned Jonah’s marriage proposal but at this point Georgia picked up her friend’s finger and admired the sizeable diamond perched on it. “And if the mother has an American husband and a job in America to boot,” she smiled, “then I can’t see how they could make you stay here.”
Claire told her that as well as the ABC show, when she’d mentioned to Richard from
Morning Cuppa
that there was a chance she might be relocating to the States, he promised that she could keep her job on the programme and would continue as she’d done over the summer, as their star US-based correspondent. “You’re wonderful for our ratings,” he told her. “Your American segments were a hit. The public seem to love you.” Claire didn’t mention anything about the pregnancy to him. She decided not to tell anyone else until after the first trimester. That is except for Miriam. Claire pushed her plate away. She couldn’t bear to have the food close to her. The smell was making her feel nauseous, or was it the thought of tonight’s tête-à-tête?
“It will all be ok, won’t it?” Claire asked her friend.
“Of course it will,” Georgia promised, before stuffing her final piece of pizza into her mouth.
-----------------------
Claire picked Miriam up from school and once they were back at home she began searching for the ‘right’ time for that conversation. Miriam was so happily making rainbow loom bracelets that Claire hadn’t the heart to disturb her and then the thought of doing it over dinner felt too contrived. Bath time came and went, homework was completed. It wasn’t until Miriam scrambled under the duvet waiting for her mother to read her a story that Claire’s cheeks began to flush hot from nerves, her heart started pounding and she counted down from three to one in her head before opening her mouth.