She wanted to hold Tom in her arms to tell him the news, and the geographical distance between them seemed so wide he might as well be in outer space. They were supposed to be getting married in less than two weeks’ time and she still wasn’t absolutely, completely sure he was the right man to join her at the altar.
“You okay in there?” Babs called, rapping on the door. “Just making sure you’ve not fallen down the toilet or anything.”
“I’m fine,” Carla said, her voice sounding muffled, somehow different already. She got dressed and washed her hands, then opened the door.
“Well?” Babs said, her arms folded tightly. “Any news?”
Carla nodded and burst into tears.
Diego arranged for Carla to visit the hospital in Calella for a few more tests the next day, and he drove her and Babs there. It was the same hospital Carla had attended after her horse accident and she vaguely remembered how the sprawling building resembled a hotel.
A nurse took blood and urine samples and confirmed that Carla was pregnant. Diego discussed dates with her and they worked out that the pregnancy must be around eight or nine weeks along. She’d need to book a scan when she returned to England, and he and the nurse agreed it was fine for her to continue traveling if she wanted to. She should just rest up and take things easy for a day or two.
The world felt out of focus as Carla took a seat in the hospital café, waiting for Babs. Because of her age, this might be her last chance to be a mother, and certainly wasn’t one she’d planned or expected. She laced her fingers across her stomach, swirling her thumbs, and tried to let her situation sink in.
The tiny house she and Tom were supposed to move into wasn’t suitable for family life and she wondered again if she’d still fit into her wedding dress. All their carefully laid-out plans were crumbling into disarray.
She caught sight of a heavily pregnant woman lining up to buy orange juice and thought back to when her mum had been pregnant with Jess. Suzette used to give Carla a running commentary on how her baby sister was developing.
“She’s the size of a kidney bean right now,” Suzette had said. Then “She’s the size of the little rubber balls you win on the slot machines in Silverpool” and “She’s grown to the size of a pomegranate” and “Now she’s like a cantaloupe melon.”
Carla had pressed her cheek to her mum’s tummy, her hands resting gently on the taut skin. “Hello, I’m your big sister. I can’t wait to meet you.”
When Jess arrived, Carla hadn’t been prepared for the rush of love she felt for the plum-colored alien. She loved the responsibility that came with holding her sister and helping to bathe and feed her. But she was hit by an even bigger wave of responsibility when Suzette’s cancer arrived.
As Jess’s life flourished, Suzette’s time on earth had waned, and all her family’s potions, lucky heather and prayers didn’t count for a thing.
After Suzette’s death, the usual mass of relatives descended upon Lucinda’s bungalow, offering to care for the baby of the family, Jess. They covered up all the mirrors in the house, an old Victorian superstition that was supposed to stop the spirit of the dead from becoming trapped in the glass. At the age of ten, Carla was the big sister and considered the strong one, when she really felt like trembling jelly.
There had been lots of talk about bad fortune and how “the brightest stars in the sky burn and fade more quickly,” but Carla knew, even then, that her mother’s death was more likely the outcome of genetics and random mutation. Regardless, it was devastating and unjust that two young girls would be parentless for the majority of their lives.
This was the time when Carla most craved a fatherly presence—someone who smelled of leather and bergamot soap, who would squeeze her a little too tight, so her shoulders ached, and who’d take her for long walks in the country and assure her everything was going to be okay.
As the years progressed, Carla’s grief spread like toothache through her entire body. It was always there, but sometimes the twinges were stronger than others. She rebelled against the superstitions in her family, seeing them as cruxes for her gran and aunts to lean on. Jess also hooked onto them, to help her cope.
As both sisters grew older, Carla had witnessed her sister knocking on wood, poring over her daily horoscope and placing a piece of jade under her pillow for good luck. A dreamcatcher hung and twirled above Jess’s bed, and she loved a cellophane fortune-telling fish that curled on her palm. In turn, Carla became more practical and sensible, striving to give her little sister a secure, loving childhood. She had precious memories of her mum to revisit and cherish, whereas all Jess had were photographs.
Sitting here, waiting for Babs and thinking about Suzette, made every nerve in Carla’s body tingle, telling her this pregnancy was meant to be. She knew that she absolutely, unequivocally, undoubtedly wanted this child. But would Tom feel the same way?
He was the only man Carla could imagine having a significant role in this baby’s life, so surely it meant her search for her exes was definitely at an end? The King of Cups and The Lovers cards had to be rendered obsolete.
Diego stayed behind at the hospital to work while Babs and Carla took a taxi back to the house. They sat together on the sofa in stunned silence for a while.
“I bet Tom will be over the moon to be a dad,” Babs said eventually.
Carla flashed her a hopeful smile and glanced at her watch. “He should be waking up around now. I wish I could tell him the news in person rather than down a staticky phone line.”
“I’ll get you a nice cold glass of water and you can take it to your room.”
A few minutes later, Carla sat perched on the edge of her bed, jiggling her legs until it was a decent time to call Tom. His phone rang for the longest time, until a woman’s voice said, “Hiya.”
Carla stared at her phone, questioning if she’d rung the right number. She checked her screen and returned to the call. “Is Tom there, please?” she asked with a frown.
“Yup, who’s calling?”
She cleared her throat. “It’s his fiancée,” she emphasized.
“Oh, right. Sure. Hold on a sec.” There was a sound of the phone clattering down.
Moments later, Tom picked it back up. “Carla. Hi.” He sounded out of breath, rather flustered. A hissing noise started up on the line. “Sorry, I was putting some final touches to a presentation. Sara heard my phone ringing and picked it up for me.”
Sara? Again? Carla winced and waited for the hiss to subside. “Are you in your hotel room?”
“No, in a boardroom for a breakfast meeting. I just nipped out to grab a coffee. Is everything okay?”
Carla massaged the lines between her eyebrows, not wanting to tell Tom their news with his colleagues—especially Sara—hovering around. “I need to speak to you,” she said.
“Sure, I’ve got a couple minutes before the meeting starts.”
“We’ll need more than that. It’s important.”
“Oh, right. Okay.” He paused for a few seconds. “Just a moment...”
Carla heard muffled voices in the background.
“It’s okay,” Tom said, returning to the call. “I’ve told Sara to start the meeting without me. You sound serious. What’s up?”
Carla took a deep breath and closed her eyes, aware that this was the most momentous news she was ever going to break to anyone. In an ideal world, there’d be a drum roll before she spoke. “I’m pregnant,” she said.
