Page 22 of Special Delivery
‘Gosh, kids,’ said Henry. ‘We haven’t properly started thinking about …’
He trailed off and Poppy felt a body blow to her solar plexus, suddenly aware of a bridge they were very close to crossing.Of courseHenry and his fiancée were thinking about kids. It made sense. It would be weird if they weren’t, and Poppy had no right to feel this slight queasiness in her stomach.
She’d already stalked his fiancée as much as she could. Her name was Willa and her social media accounts were expertly set to private. Her Instagram profile pic showed long limbs silhouetted against a European sunrise. You couldn’t see her face, but Poppy could tell she was beautiful. Girls that tall and slim always looked effortless.
Poppy felt properly sick now. ‘Babies certainly keep you busy!’ she persevered. She hoped the comment was generic enough to make it seem as though she hadn’t spiralled down that Henry-Willa-offspring rabbit hole. Thecertainlymight have been too much, though. She wasn’tactuallyEdwardian.
‘I can imagine,’ Henry replied, his eyes vacant again. He shifted towards the coffee counter and glanced at it. ‘I won’t keep you,’ he said.
‘Okay,’ said Poppy, blindly searching his face for that connection they’d shared only moments ago. It was like trying to find a safety rope in a dark cave. ‘I’ll see you around.’ She tried to smile but couldn’t. That was happening too often these days.
CHAPTER 11
Her AirPods secured in place, Poppy spoke to the voice inside them as she pushed the pram through her front gate. ‘He started talking about having kids with his fiancée and I almost died. I mean, what was I supposed to say?’
‘Shit, Pops,’ replied Dani. ‘That’s full-on. I can’t believe he was there. Like, after all these years, he just appears.’
‘It was only a matter of time, I guess. This town is so small.’
‘How did he look?’ asked her friend.
‘Good,’ Poppy admitted regretfully. He’d looked really good.
‘Hmmm. This is inconvenient.’
‘Tell me about it.’
Through Poppy, Dani and Henry had become firm friends during their university years, sharing a similar enthusiasm for a meat pie after 2 am. When Poppy had lost Henry as a friend, Dani had too. Another thing to feel guilty about.
‘What were you wearing?’ asked Dani.
‘Nothing terrible. A pair of denim shorts and a gingham shirt.’
‘Ha! Look at you, Daisy Duke, getting all country on me! Since when do you wear gingham?’
‘Since now, you loser. Gingham is actually very fashionable at the moment. Have you not looked at any shops lately?’
‘Um, no. As if I browse shops anymore. My sleepy newborn days are long gone, my dear. I can’t even browse the nappy aisle. I need to be in and out. First thing I see, that’s what I get. I see nappies for boys, Nella is getting nappies for boys. I see a non-hideous shirt that will fit, that’s the shirt I’m getting. Honestly, Pops, you have all this to look forward to.’
Poppy rounded the corner onto the golf course track and suddenly felt a ballistic missile explode between her temples. ‘Dan, while I’d love to continue this chat about my descent into momcore, I have to go.’
‘What’s with the angry voice?’
‘I’ll explain later.’
James was waiting by the oak tree with Eileen barking and straining against her leash. ‘I do this walk most mornings,’ he said stonily. He brandished a sleek cardboard bag with thick ribbon handles towards her. ‘Here.’
Poppy grudgingly slowed the pram and snatched the bag. She peered inside. ‘Is this like hush money?’
Inside was a pristine white sweatshirt. Poppy glanced at the designer label. He’d guessed her size correctly.
‘Take it back.’
‘No.’
‘Take it,’ she repeated. She would never spend that much money on a top, especially in this phase of life, where every morning was a high-stakes game of cup-size bingo. She also didn’t need to be any more indebted to this guy—he’d already delivered her baby.
James shook his head once. ‘No.’
