Thirty

Vanessa and Nicky sat at the kitchen table, their postures signifying boredom. Vanessa actually yawned noisily, which irritated Jackie.

‘You might make more of an effort,’ she snapped, her voice husky from tension.

‘Effort?’ questioned Vanessa, giving her mother a confused frown. ‘What are we supposed to do? Jump up and down?’

Nicky giggled.

‘You might at least say something nice.’ Jackie’s voice rose a notch. ‘Something encouraging, instead of just sitting there criticising.’

‘I haven’t said a word,’ Vanessa said.

‘Exactly.’

Nicky looked at her sister and grinned. ‘We can’t win.’

Jackie glanced at the microwave clock. ‘Nigel’s cutting it fine. We’re supposed to be at the registry office in less than an hour. And we’ve got to find somewhere to park.’

‘Maybe he’s done a bunk,’ said Nicky. Then, seeing the pain in her mother’s eyes, added: ‘Only joking. He’s probably stuck in traffic.’

Vanessa grinned maliciously. ‘Yes, Tunbridge Wells is the car jam capital of the south east. He could be gone hours.’

Jackie ignored this obvious wind-up, walked over to the sink, squeezed out the dishcloth and wiped the draining board, which already gleamed from her recent state of obsessive cleaning and tidying. Vanessa recognised her mother’s behaviour as an obvious displacement activity, and felt slightly guilty for the attempted inappropriate tease.

‘When is his son due here?’ she said.

‘Well, he should have been here by now. Nigel’s picking him up at Tonbridge station, because there’s more choice of trains.’

‘What happens if the trains are delayed?’ said Nicky.

‘Then we’ll just have to get married without him,’ said Jackie more forcefully than she intended.

A key rattled in the front door. Vanessa, frowning, stared at her mother. ‘Since when has he had his own front door key?’

Jackie glared at Vanessa. ‘Since I agreed to marry him,’ she hissed.

‘He’s always rung the doorbell before.’

‘Yes, well, now things are different. So you’d better get used to it.’

Nigel came into the kitchen, wearing an expensive suit with a red carnation in the buttonhole. His eyes looked tired, bloodshot and hurt.

‘Darling! What’s wrong,’ said Jackie, fearing the worst.

‘Martin’s not coming. He called me on my mobile. Said he couldn’t make it. Something unexpected has turned up the last minute.’

‘Oh, darling. I’m sorry.’

‘Yes, well, you’d think he could have made an effort.’ Nigel waved his hands about helplessly. ‘And why didn’t he call me at home. Why did he have to wait until I got to the station, almost as if it was deliberate?’

Jackie tried to sound sympathetic, but she was more concerned for her own situation as the impending marriage drew closer. ‘I’m sure it couldn’t be helped. Can’t he make the wedding breakfast either?’

Nigel shrugged.

‘Shame,’ said Vanessa. ‘I was dying to meet him.’

Nicky sniggered. ‘You’d go for anything in trousers.’

Vanessa smiled knowingly. ‘Or even without trousers.’

‘Especially without trousers,’ added Nicky.

‘I think we’d better be off,’ said Jackie, hastily.

***

Clutching a small, plastic bag containing a sweet treat from Marks & Spencer’s, Marjorie dashed indoors to answer the telephone before the caller hung up. It was her friend Freda, ringing with gossip about her neighbour, who had just been prosecuted for indecent exposure in Dunorlan Park.

‘Guess what I’ve just heard,’ she began. ‘You know the family who moved into your old house, Robbie and Angela Barings...’

Getting no response, other than heavy breathing, Freda stopped to ask: ‘You all right, Marj?’

Marjorie felt her whole body pounding, like a pulse beating out a giant rhythm . ‘It’s that hill,’ she wheezed. ‘It’s really done me in.’

Freda, who had always been jealous of her friend’s change of circumstances, couldn’t resist the opportunity to get in a friendly dig. ‘Serves you right for hob-nobbing with all them rich people.’

‘It’s not our fault, Freda. We inherited it.’

‘Well, if you’re not happy, you could always sell it.’

‘I might just do that, after the baby’s born.’

‘Does Ted know?’

‘Not yet.’

Freda chuckled. ‘Poor sod’s not got much say in it, I don’t s’pose.’

‘Well, it is my house, Freda.’

‘That’s what I mean.’

Marjorie placed a hand on her stomach and rubbed gently. ‘Still, there’ll be plenty of time to think about that after it’s born.’

Freda cackled dirtily. ‘Fancy Ted getting you up the duff at your age. He’s a dark horse, that one. Alec thinks it’s for stirring his tea with. We only do it about three times a year. Ted’ll have to come round to give ‘im lessons. Oh yes: I was telling you about Robbie Barings. He’s been done for flashing to some French students in Dunorlan Park.’ Freda sniggered. ‘They was in a boat on the lake. So they was what you might call a captive audience, Alec said. Robbie Barings stood on the bank, took it out and - you know - he was doing it to himself. So one of the students...’

Noticing the lack of response from Marjorie’s end, Freda stopped relating her story to ask: ‘Marj? You still there?’

Marjorie looked down. She felt peculiar but quite calm. ‘Would you do me a favour, Freda? Would you hang up and make two phone calls for me?’

‘Why? What’s happened?’

‘Me waters’ve broken.’

‘Oh my God!’ yelled Freda. ‘Alec! She’s having the baby. Try not to panic, Marj.’

‘I’m not. Would you call an ambulance for me, then call Ted on his mobile? He’s at work.’

‘You must try and keep calm,’ shouted Freda.

Marjorie felt her heart pumping hard. She tried not to let her friend’s sense of urgency and near panic get to her. She was determined to stay in control.

‘Freda,’ she said, her voice tremulous. ‘I’ll be all right if you phone. I’m just bloody annoyed, that’s all.’

‘Annoyed,’ Freda repeated. ‘What you annoyed about?’

‘That me waters never broke in Marks and Sparks. I’ve heard they give you all kinds of maternity clothes free of charge if that happens.