‘I love this picture!’ I walked over to a framed sketch hanging on the wall. It hadn’t been here last time I’d visited the blue bedroom, so I was taking a chance that it was Petra’s. ‘What a gorgeous cat. She looks like a queen.’ I paused, glancing back at the bed. ‘Is it a she?’
A quick nod.
‘Stunning. This is so lifelike I wouldn’t be surprised if she sat up and stretched,’ I said, with a well-practised blend of casual and impressed.
The scowl almost disappeared this time.
‘What’s her name?’
‘Cleo. Short for Cleopatra.’
‘The Egyptian queen?’
Petra flicked up one corner of her mouth in a smile, and I breathed a secret sigh of relief. She’d been expecting me to bombard her with questions and information, to pretend I knew how she felt or tell her what she should do next. That was the last thing she needed.
‘Cats were considered sacred in ancient Egypt. When they died, their owners shaved off their eyebrows and mourned until the eyebrows grew back.’
‘Wow. I heard that sometimes people mummified their cats back then.’
‘Yes. They even had cat cemeteries.’
We chatted for a few more minutes before I handed her the drink.
‘Is your bump big enough to rest a mug on yet?’ I asked.
Petra furrowed her eyebrows, pushing back the duvet and giving it a go, but the moment she rested the mug on her rounded belly, a sudden movement beneath the skin sent it wobbling dangerously, causing her to burst out laughing in surprise.
‘That’ll be a no, then.’ I smiled, taking a sip of my own drink.
‘Will I get much bigger?’ she asked, her smile disappearing.
‘It’ll feel big, but some of the mums who come along to Bloomers have much rounder bumps at this stage. And it’ll be September by the time you’re due, so hopefully it won’t be so hot, and you’ll be a bit more comfortable.’
I left a moment of quiet before adding, softly, ‘I had my first baby before any of my friends, and one thing that helped most was when I found some other people to hang out with who were dealing with the same stuff. That’s really what Bloomers is about.’
I went on to explain how the Mondays and Thursday evenings worked. That there was no pressure, she could come along once and see how it went.
‘Can Mary stay with me?’
‘If you’ve chosen her to be your birth partner, then she can stay.’
She went pale, clutching her mug more tightly. I ignored the urge to wipe off her hot-chocolate moustache and give her a hug. ‘I haven’t even thought about that.’
‘That’s fine. There’s plenty of time. If you’re nervous, you can always hang about with me, but I promise that everyone remembers how awkward they felt their first week, so they’re all extra kind to new faces. How about you come along this evening? It’s only an hour and a half.’
I knew if I left her to think about it until Monday, that would give Petra far too much time to worry herself into deciding not to come.
She gave a hesitant nod. ‘Okay. If I’m not too knackered.’
I smiled as I left. ‘Given that you’re still in bed and it’s past two o’clock, I think you’ll manage it. I can’t wait to see you there.’
As I dropped off my mug in the kitchen, it happened.
Back when I was sixteen and heartbroken, it had happened all the time. Far less so once I’d started going out with Brayden, though from time to time I still stopped in my tracks, the sudden bolt of adrenaline sending me dizzy, the sense of surrealism lingering long after I realised that of course it wasn’t him. He was miles away.
Beyond the kitchen window, on the far side of the huge lawn, beneath a horse chestnut tree, I saw the silhouette of the boy who was my first heartbreak.
Standing with Bob, clearly deep in conversation. It was the tilt of the head, how he crossed his arms.
