Page 87 of The Spark

‘Okay,’ I said, even though I already resented everything about this conversation – my assumed dishonesty, her interrogative manner, what I knew was coming next.

‘Are you pregnant?’

I could feel colour blooming across my skin. So many things were going through my head in that moment. But among them was how Debra could talk to me as if I’d been her son’s girlfriend for a matter of weeks, when in fact she’d known me since I was a child.

Seemingly unwilling to wait for my response, she said, ‘I see.’

No congratulations, or impassioned hug. Just stone-cold panic, a silent scream.

‘It’s still early.’ My mouth was dry. She was standing so close, I could taste every cloying layer of her perfume. ‘Jamie doesn’t know yet.’

Debra activated crisis mode. ‘Then I need to ask you... please... to consider not having this child.’

I stared at her, horrified. ‘It’s not your right to ask me that.’

She glanced over her shoulder. It seemed mad to me that she could have said something so ludicrous just inches from where people were enjoying romantic nights out, celebratory dinners. ‘Jamie has another internship in London this summer. Archibald & Leicester is an incredibly prestigious firm, Neve. He has big plans for his future.’

‘So do I.’

At this, she tilted her head, as if to say, You wish. ‘Neve. Parenting is a tough, tough job. And Jamie... He’s not mature enough to cope. You don’t have jobs. You don’t even have anywhere to live. Please, please don’t do this to him.’

‘I haven’t done anything to him,’ I said, appalled by her outdated assumptions. ‘It takes two people to—’

‘Chris will... never recover from this. He wants the world for Jamie. He adores him.’

I just looked at her then, unsure how she expected me to consider the feelings of a man who had never been anything other than dismissive of my very existence.

‘I understand that Chris can come across as a little... domineering. But we tried for a long time to have a sibling for Harry. And it was very hard and very... heartbreaking. Then, just when we’d given up hope, Jamie came along. I suppose you could say he was our “miracle baby”. Anyway. For that reason, Chris has always wanted the very best for him. I hope you can understand.’

‘I do,’ I said, determined to maintain my composure in the face of such outrageous intrusiveness. ‘But I want the best for Jamie too. And this is really between me and him.’

‘So why haven’t you told him?’

‘I haven’t found the right moment. But Jamie will be an amazing father.’ The fervent need to stand up for Jamie’s rights – not to mention my own, and my baby’s – began to really kick in then. ‘I know he’ll want this.’

‘Yes, in fifteen years’ time, maybe. Once you’ve both had a chance to live a little and discover... what it is you want from your futures.’

I suspected she was hoping Jamie would meet someone else in the interim. Someone from a wealthy family, with parents who played golf and understood things like cigars and wine, who holidayed in Mustique and held membership at Annabel’s. Who had connections. Who dined every week at places like this.

A thought occurred to me. ‘Do you know someone called Heather?’

‘Heather? No,’ she said sharply and too fast, which indicated to me that she very much did know someone called Heather. That Heather was perhaps even who she had in mind for her son.

A woman passed us then, to go into the toilets. She smiled neutrally at us, and I wondered what she would say, were she privy to our conversation. How absurd she would have found it. How absurd any normal-thinking human would surely have found it.

‘You know, Jamie’s father wanted to send him to private school. And the reason Jamie refused was because of you.’

‘I never asked him to do that.’

‘He’s already made big sacrifices for you, Neve.’

But isn’t that what love is? I wanted to say.

‘I’ll pay you,’ Debra said then, her voice so low I wondered for a moment if I’d misheard. She reached out to touch my arm. Her skin was marble-cold against mine. But it wasn’t a gesture of tenderness. I knew it was the precursor to something harder, uglier, far more forceful.

I met her gaze, asking her to repeat herself with my expression alone.

She did have the decency to look ashamed, even as she whispered her insistence. ‘I will pay you to take care of this, Neve. However much it takes. However much you want.’ Her voice cracked then. But she remained every inch the villain to me, with her scarlet lipstick and formaldehyde-strength perfume, behaviour spinning rapidly out of control.

---