6

Penny couldn’t believe it. Hadn’t she and Sharon joked about this exact outcome – that a man as handsome as Francesco would be rubbish in bed?

‘Clemmie!’ Penny said in a panicked Personal Podcast. ‘What the hell! I knew it was too good to be true!’ Clementine had replied telling her not to be so bloody precious.

‘Bad sex happens to good people,’ Clementine said in response. ‘Remember when you were sleeping with that anonymous sex blogger you refused to introduce anyone to, but he was the best sex you’d had since Mo? You know why he was the best sex you’d had, don’t you? Because it was the only time you felt close to him. It’s easy to have good sex without any emotions because in bed is the only time you truly connected. But if you and this handsome Italian are all, go! go! go! connection central! outside of the bedroom, maybe there’s a bit more riding on what happens when the lights go out. It’s not like you don’t fancy him, is it? You do fancy him. So I’m afraid the only thing to do is chill out and try again, sis. Also, can you book train tickets for Eric’s birthday weekend? And is your Italian stallion coming too?’

Penny had texted her back as soon as she’d listened to what Clementine had to say.

It’s irritating that you have such perspective on my life, Penny typed. I would say ‘screw you’, but obviously the person I’ve got to screw, again, is Francesco.

Clementine replied: That’s my girl! Let me know how it goes. And please acknowledge my request about the trains! xxx

Penny couldn’t help but feel embarrassed, though. She knew she fancied Francesco, but did having bad sex mean that actually he didn’t quite fancy her?

‘He fancies you!’ Sharon said, over a 6 p.m. after-work tea.

‘Come here, you,’ Penny said to Mia, scooping up Sharon’s daughter to make her squeal in delighted giggles.

‘Auntie Penny! Again!’ pleaded Mia, as Penny tried to put her down. Penny reached for her once more, blowing a raspberry on her tummy that meant before she’d even stopped, Mia was begging for ‘again!’ once more. It made Penny’s heart grow twelve sizes, having a pudgy hand wrapped around her own in glee and being the one who made that noise of joy happen. She loved kids, and she loved her friend’s kids.

‘Let Auntie Penny drink her tea,’ Sharon instructed. ‘Can you draw her a picture of a unicorn, or a queen?’

‘Yeah,’ shrieked Mia, padding to her tiny table and chair in the corner of the kitchen. ‘I can draw.’

‘Good girl,’ whispered Sharon, bending to kiss her daughter on the head.

‘So, a rubbish shag.’ Sharon returned to the breakfast stools and Penny, who watched Mia bend over a blank sheet of A4 with her crayons. Sharon lowered her voice to say it, so Mia didn’t hear.

‘Yeah,’ sighed Penny. ‘I’m gutted.’

‘Can I ask you something?’

‘You can …’ said Penny.

‘Where are you at with having a family right now? Finding a surrogate? I thought all this was a bit of fun but you’re actually falling for him properly, aren’t you?’

Penny had spoken to Sharon at great length about her desire to become a mother, and how she wanted that almost more than anything in the world. She’d explained to Sharon almost right after they’d met that before the radiotherapy and ensuing hormone therapy, Penny’s eggs had been retrieved and then fertilized with German donor sperm, so that the resulting embryos could be checked for the BRCA mutation. That way, Penny could prevent passing on the risk of breast cancer to her children, and feel a bit more in control about her future. The embryos were currently in a storage unit for the princely sum of three hundred pounds a year, and on-and-off Penny talked about using them, via IVF and with a surrogate. She’d not had a boyfriend since Mo, so it had been about finding the courage to do it alone – she didn’t necessarily believe that first comes love, then comes marriage, then comes the baby in the baby carriage, especially when the baby already half-existed as an embryo. She went through increasingly determined phases of feeling incredibly empowered about using them and then finding love later – especially since up until last month it had seemed like love was going to elude her forever – and then getting cold feet and deciding to wait another six months, just in case.

‘Well,’ said Penny. ‘I just don’t know. It’s all been going so well with him, so to be honest I haven’t really been thinking about IVF or surrogacy or motherhood. Which is weird because I was definitely getting to “at least ninety per cent ready” territory. But then he walked into the café, and it’s just been lovely. I mean, it’s a bit different now, though, because …’

‘Crap sex.’

‘Crap. Sex. And so maybe he’ll run a mile embarrassed, or maybe I want to run a mile embarrassed. And I mean, it’s too early to tell him about the whole can’t-carry-kids-myself thing, or even that if in some crazy world where we end up together we actually couldn’t have his kids. I’d be stupid to bring that up two weeks in. But yeah. It feels different with him, worth pausing the constant shall-I-or-shan’t-I “do it now” question I keep asking myself. I’ve got nothing to lose by seeing where this goes …’

‘Have you heard from him today?’

‘He texted this morning to say he hoped I had a good day, but to be honest we’d normally have called one another as we prepped at work, so something is already different.’

‘Text him right now,’ Sharon instructed. ‘Don’t sit and wonder. If you think your ego is bruised then honestly, try being a man. A disappointing lay to you is upsetting, but to a man who needs his testosterone to validate his masculinity? Devastating.’

Penny shook her head. ‘Francesco isn’t like that,’ she contended, picking up her phone and unlocking it anyway. ‘He’s not a caveman.’

‘Darling,’ Sharon insisted, wandering over to check on her daughter. ‘When it comes to s-e-x, they’re all cavemen.’

Penny opened the text thread between her and Francesco right as a new message appeared on her screen from him. It said: So, last night was …

Penny smiled. Yeah, she replied, instantly, adding, (So weird! Just picked up my phone to message you as you messaged me!)

It makes no sense, Francesco texted back. We should be on fire! Like so, so hot. (Great minds think alike!)

‘Do you want to stay for dinner?’ Sharon asked. ‘It’s shepherd’s pie.’

‘Sure,’ said Penny. ‘Sorry to be rude – he’s texting me right now.’

‘Oh, what’s he saying?’

‘He’s a bit confused as well, I think.’

Penny typed: Maybe we’d put too much pressure on it?

His reply came: Well it’s not like we planned it to happen then, did we? I mean, you weren’t expecting me, and I was genuinely only stopping by for the food …

True. Penny responded. Although I’d definitely been thinking about it …

Oh really???

She smiled. She had thought about it. She kept a small vibrator in her bedside table and had used it more than once before bed as she thought about it. Penny had wanted him since they met. Since she’d watched him unload bread from the van. She replied provocatively with three dots.

Okay, I’d thought about it too, Francesco texted. A lot. I’d even … you know … THOUGHT ABOUT IT.

Well, at least they’d both had good sex in their minds, Penny reasoned. She responded:

So we should try it again, he replied. Right?

‘He’s asking if we should try again,’ Penny called over to Sharon. ‘And that’s what I want, right? A second go-around?’

‘You tell me,’ said Sharon, fishing about in the freezer.

For sure! Yes! OMG yes. I would like that very much, Penny typed back. She wanted to sound enthusiastic in case what Sharon had said about the male ego thing was true, even for him.

‘Yes,’ Penny said out loud.

Okay, well, good talk, came the reply.

GREAT talk, said Penny.

I’ve got service now, but I’ll speak to you later?

Yes, said Penny. Speak to you later xxxxx

‘Do you know what?’ said Sharon, reappearing from her freezer. ‘I don’t actually fancy the pie. Shall I order pizza instead?’

‘You’ve got something wholesome and good for you right within reach, and you want what isn’t?’ Penny said.

Sharon shrugged, smiling.

‘Okay, pizza,’ said Penny.

Penny and Francesco took more afternoon walks around the reservoir, fitting them in after her service but before his, and kissing at what Penny thought of as ‘their’ gate. They talked on the phone. They texted when they woke up, and before they went to sleep. They made plans, starting sentences with ‘We should …’ or ‘We could …’ or ‘Shall we …’ Penny wasn’t used to being a ‘we’. It was seductive. The ‘us’ thing … well, ‘us’ felt okay with Francesco. She didn’t feel the usual fear and she didn’t feel like she had to hold him away from her, close enough to know him but far enough away so that he’d never truly know her. She liked him. And what was more, she was starting to trust him. Maybe I will tell him about the kids thing, she reflected. Sooner rather than later.

‘Wow,’ said Clementine, as they sat together on a bench in Clissold Park. ‘Big feelings are happening.’

‘Maybe?’ Penny replied. ‘I daren’t believe it, but I think … yes?’

‘Well you’ve got to figure out the bedroom thing then. Without a doubt.’

Francesco and Penny had tried again to find their sexual groove, but it still wasn’t right. It was like there was something else in the room with them, some third entity that distracted them and made them too self-conscious to enjoy the moment. It was maddening. They’d started to laugh about it, which eased the mood, but they were yet to manage a ten-out-of-ten romp. They were stalling at about a three-and-a-half. A C-minus. Passable at a push.

‘Everything goes where it should, and the theory is all there,’ explained Penny. ‘But in practice it’s not exactly on fire, you know?’

‘Well,’ said Clementine, ‘that kind of fits in to what I wanted to talk to you about.’

‘Okay …’ said Penny, searching her sister’s face for clues but coming up short. Clementine wanted to talk about Penny’s lacklustre sex life?

‘I wanted to tell you that I’ve given this a lot of thought, and – just so you know, and in case you wanted me to – when you’re ready, I would absolutely love to be your surrogate.’

‘My surrogate?’ said Penny, stunned.

‘Your surrogate,’ repeated back Clementine, nodding. Smiling. She did a little ‘ta-da!’ motion with one hand, but Penny didn’t smile back.

‘You want to be my surrogate.’

‘I really, really do, Pen.’

They were clutching hot chocolates from the café in the middle of the park, where Clementine went every morning when she was in London to ensure she hit her daily 10,000 steps.

‘Can we sit down?’ Penny said. ‘Just for a minute. This is … a lot.’

‘We are sitting down,’ said Clementine, her voice quiet. ‘Are you okay? I figured you knew this was coming …’

‘Yes, I’m okay,’ Penny said. ‘No. I wasn’t expecting this.’

They sat overlooking the water feature. The second ‘fake spring’ of the season was doing a great job of acting like actual spring, with a cloudless sky and neither of them in coats. Uncle David had said on the family WhatsApp group this morning that they should both enjoy it, because snow was forecast at the weekend. He’d sent a gif of the two sisters from Frozen, for emphasis. He often joked that they looked like those sisters: Clementine with her long blonde hair and Penny the bright redhead.

‘I mean this in the most grateful possible way, Clementine, but please don’t mess with me.’

Clementine turned and put her hand on her sister’s knee. She fixed her features to sit encouragingly and kindly. ‘Let me speak,’ she said, slowly. ‘I don’t want to screw this up.’ She took a breath. ‘Rima and I have really thought this through, and we want to do it. We want a part in continuing our – yours and mine – bloodline. Because, without family, what else is there? We support this decision one thousand per cent, and if you want to use me as your oven, well, you absolutely can.’

Penny shook her head. Could finding someone to help her start her family really be this simple? ‘This is … I don’t know. I can do what I said. I can go to Russia for it. People do.’

‘That worries me,’ Clementine mused. ‘Who knows if those girls are doing it willingly, or for the money, or …’ She paused. ‘Is it selfish of me to say I want to be a part of this process? Rima and I will truly never start a family of our own – we don’t want that, really, really. But we know how much you want it.’ Clementine bumped her shoulder against Penny’s, smiling. ‘I hereby volunteer as tribute.’

Penny twisted the cardboard sleeve around her takeaway cup, staring at it going around and around. It felt dangerous to be hopeful, to think this was something her sister really would do. It wasn’t offering to share her chips or pick up the tab for lunch. This was everything.

‘I can’t get my head around this. It’s too much.’

Penny had very first dared talk about motherhood after Bridges had celebrated its second birthday. She had overcome the darkest period of her life, made a total success of her dream business, and gone upstairs to her flat and cried and cried and cried, because somehow it wasn’t enough. It felt anti-feminist, in a weird way, to say she needed something beyond work. She’d sent Clementine a voice note that said, ‘I want to come upstairs after my shift and for my child to be there. To be doing all this for a reason. I want kids, Clementine. Like … now. I just feel so sad! I don’t want it to be just me! I want a family!’ It was with unending gratitude that Clementine had been so kind in her response, and never once made Penny feel ridiculous for thinking about doing it alone.

But all of that was before Francesco. It was too soon to know if he changed things, but Penny felt a small notion that it might. She wanted to ask him, just in theory, but what exactly would she say? Hey, Francesco? I know I met you twenty minutes ago but just trying to get a read on how you’d feel about being a daddy, except I’ve already fertilized my eggs so it wouldn’t really be ‘yours’, and it’s too dangerous to come off my hormone medication so I wouldn’t actually be the one getting pregnant. What’s your timeframe on that? Maybe within the year? Is this a do-able scenario for you? No pressure.

‘I didn’t mean to blindside you,’ Clementine said. ‘I honestly thought you knew this is what I’d been thinking about for ages. I wanted to tell you now, today, because then I’m gone again and it’s not exactly the kind of thing you say over a Personal Podcast, is it? But I’ve honestly been thinking about this ever since you said you wanted to be a mum. Rima and me, we’ve discussed this at least once a month for a year. I couldn’t take away the cancer for you, but I can help with this.’

Neither spoke. The fountain sprayed and the sun shone and they sat and sat.

‘They’re my embryos,’ Penny said, eventually.

‘They’re your embryos,’ said Clementine, before shaking her head. ‘Sorry. I keep repeating everything that you say. I’m just trying to let you know that I hear you.’

The pair observed a pregnant mother pushing a toddler in a pram, talking to him about the ducks he could see and laughing as he mispronounced the word ‘walking’: They wokking, mama! They wokking!

‘I know I’m still only thirty, so there’s my whole life ahead of me for kids,’ Penny said. ‘Except, every day feels like this perfect, beautiful gift, and I don’t want to throw that away. My business is secure, I work really sensible hours, I can afford childcare … the only thing I don’t have is the ability to carry the kid myself. And, well, a father-figure.’

‘That’s where I come in – not as a father-figure, obvs, but I can carry it. At least let me do the tests, see if I’m viable to help. Because I want to.’

‘I can’t ask you to do this,’ Penny said.

‘You’re not,’ Clementine replied. ‘I offered. My womb, your baby, made from some lovely German sperm. You said it’s German, didn’t you? And I’m bringing this up now as I’m going to be in London for at least six months this autumn, because we’re doing a concession stand in Selfridges as well as the new White City store. I’ll be around, like actually around, and I’ve also got a lot of holiday to take as well. Logistically, now is the time I can help, plus I’m young and I’m healthy, and I think you’ve sat on the idea long enough to hold your head high in saying you’ve given it real thought. Not that I’m judge and jury on a woman knowing her own mind. Just, I see what this means to you.’

Penny moved to rest her head on her sister’s arm. ‘I keep thinking of that yoga retreat. The stories of all those women. What are the chances that on my very first retreat I’d end up with nine women who all had different motherhood stories? There was a forty-three-year-old there who had used a donor and was already seven months pregnant. A lesbian who’d done a turkey baster with her best gay mate, and because they were doctors they got it sorted literally the second time they tried. And that was more than twenty years ago! Their son just graduated from Cambridge!’

Clementine nodded, making her shoulder jiggle and Penny’s head move up and down with it.

‘I know you worry about getting Uncle David on side, but I think he just worries that you’d be alone, and that having a baby on your own is a lot of work. He’s still old school that way.’

‘Well, I am seeing somebody now …’

‘You are …’

‘And I’m not saying I’m going to marry him, but … I have to admit that it feels weird to be discussing this now. Even a month ago if we’d have talked about this I’d have said, “Okay, sod it, great, shall we start next week?” But now … not that I want to change my plans for a man, but … this feels different. Worth the pause.’ She issued a funny noise from the back of her throat. ‘Bloody hell, I felt like a bad feminist for wanting a bloody kid in the first place, and now I feel like a bad feminist for waiting. I can’t win with myself.’

‘Hey,’ said Clementine. ‘I’m not going anywhere. The offer isn’t going anywhere. I’m here in the autumn but we can always figure it out for whenever you’re ready. This autumn, next year, in five years. I just really wanted to tell you.’

‘What did I do to deserve a sister like you?’ Penny asked.

‘Well, you were basically my mother growing up, so there’s that.’

‘Talking about becoming a mum makes me miss her even more, you know. Maybe that’s why it feels so pressing to me. Bringing a new life into the world, being a parent … I could know what she felt like when she had us.’

‘I think that’s why I want to help, too. It’s a way for her to live on a bit, isn’t it?’

‘Yeah,’ said Penny. ‘It is.’