‘Why don’t you try it?’ the shop assistant suggests, so the young couple and I take turns wheeling it up and down the shop, agreeing that it really is the perfect option as not only does it look classy, it’s easy to handle.
We move to the counter and the shop assistant insists on putting the sleep-suit in a pretty box even though I’ve told her that it’s for me, and as we chat about possible names for our babies, I feel more positive than ever about becoming a mother. Rachel’s assertion that all I’m suffering from is burnout has given me back my confidence and I can’t wait to tell Matthew this evening that we can start IVF. Maybe I’ll present him with the tiny sleep-suit first, as a hint.
‘We have a loyalty scheme you might find interesting.’
The smiling assistant holds out a form to me. ‘You just need to fill in your name and address. Once you’ve built up a certain number of points, you get a discount on your future purchases.’
I take the form and start filling it in. ‘That sounds great.’
‘You can use it to buy maternity wear too,’ she goes on. ‘We have some lovely jeans with a waistband that The Breakdown
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expands along with your pregnancy. I’ve got my eye
on a pair already.’
Suddenly brought back to reality, because I am not pregnant, I hand the form back to her and say a hurried goodbye. I’m almost at the door when she calls me back.
‘You haven’t paid!’ she laughs.
Flustered, I go back to the counter and hand her my card. By the time I actually make it out of the door I feel so fraught by the lies I’ve told that my new-found confidence has all but deserted me. I don’t feel like going home but I don’t want to stay in town in case I bump into the young couple from the shop, and they start talking about my pregnancy, so I head back to the car park anyway.
I haven’t got very far when I hear someone calling my name. Turning around, I see John, my colleague from school, hurrying towards me.
‘I saw you come out of the shop back there and I’ve been trying to catch up with you ever since,’ he explains, giving me one of his huge smiles. He gives me a spon-taneous hug and his dark hair flops onto his forehead.
‘How are you, Cass?’
‘I’m fine,’ I say. I see his eyes drift towards the bag I’m carrying and I’m immediately embarrassed.
‘I don’t mean to pry, but I need to buy a present for a friend’s new baby and I have no idea what to get. I was about to go into the shop when I saw you coming out so I’m hoping you can help.’
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‘I bought a sleep-suit for a friend’s baby. Maybe you could buy something like that.’
‘Great, I’ll get one of those then. So, are you enjoying the holidays?’
‘Yes and no,’ I admit, grateful to be changing the subject. ‘It’s lovely to have some time off but since Jane’s murder, I’m finding it hard to relax.’
His face clouds over. ‘I used to play tennis with her.
We belonged to the same club. I couldn’t believe it when I heard the news. I felt terrible. I still do.’
‘I forgot that you knew her too,’ I say.
He looks surprised. ‘Why, did you?’
‘Only a little. I met her at a party Rachel took me to. We got chatting and when I told her that I worked at the high school she said that she knew you. Then, a couple of weeks ago, we had lunch together.’ I cast around for something else to talk about. ‘You’re off to Greece soon, aren’t you?’
‘No, not anymore.’ I look at him questioningly. ‘Let’s just say my girlfriend is no longer on the scene.’
‘Ah.’
He shrugs. ‘These things happen.’ He looks at his watch. ‘I don’t suppose you have time for a drink, do you?’
‘A coffee would be lovely,’ I say, glad to fill in a bit more time.
Over coffee we talk about school and about the Inset day scheduled for the end of the month, ahead of the new school year in September. Half an hour later, we The Breakdown 121
leave the café and, after we’ve said goodbye, I watch, my stress levels rising, as he crosses over the road and walks back towards the Baby Boutique. What if he tells the assistant that he wants to buy a sleep-suit like the one a friend of his bought half an hour ago? She’ll know he’s talking about me and she might say something about me being pregnant and, when we see each other at school, he might congratulate me in front of everyone. And what would I do then? Pretend it was a false alarm? He might even phone me later on today and I’ll have no choice but admit I lied to the assistant or tell him that she must have misunderstood. My head begins pounding and I wish I’d never bumped into him.
I get home and, as I let myself into the house, the flashing red light on the keypad reminds me that I need to turn the alarm off so I close the front door and type in the code. But instead of the green light coming on, the red light begins flashing furiously. Thinking I’ve made a mistake, I type the code in again, pressing firmly on each number – 9291 – but the light flashes even faster.