And Baby Makes Two - Dyan Sheldon [30]
“Lana!” my mother shouted through the bathroom door. “Lana, are you all right?”
If my mouth hadn’t been filled with vomit I’d’ve made some snappy answer to shut her up. Like, “I’m fine. This is what I do instead of having a second cup of tea.” It wasn’t even morning sickness, really. I got it all the time, morning, noon and night.
But my mouth was filled with vomit so I just gagged.
“Do you want me to make you a cup of tea before I go?”
I swear, the woman was a tea junkie. You wouldn’t want to be on the Titanic with her. Instead of a life-jacket, she’d throw you a cup of PG Tips.
“Agggh!” I choked in reply.
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah,” I gasped. “I’m brilliant.”
I spat the remains of my breakfast into the bowl, rinsed my mouth with the glass of water I kept next to the loo for these emergencies and shuffled to the door.
She was still there.
“Are you going to school?”
She thought I should stay till the end of the year. To make sure that I did, she was blackmailing me. If I didn’t make an effort to go to school, even if I was puking up all over the place, she’d cut off my pocket-money.
“Do I have a choice?”
She wasn’t exactly subtle.
“No,” she said. “You don’t.”
I glared. “Well then…”
“This is what it means to be grown up,” she informed me. “You made your bed, and now you’re going to have to lie in it.”
I didn’t say anything. I hoped she could see in my eyes how much I hated her.
“Though knowing you, I shouldn’t think you actually made the bed first,” said my mother.
* * *
After the Spiggs left I got dressed.
I used to look forward to getting dressed in the morning. What mood was I in? What colours should I wear? You know, that sort of thing.
But not any more.
The only mood I was ever in was pregnant. My tummy was as big as a basketball, my breasts were like melons and my bum looked like it was padded. The only good thing about any of this was the breasts. Les was a breast man. He thought my breasts were great this size.
I stood in front of the full-length mirror on the back of my door.
I didn’t look like Cindy Crawford or Posh Spice. I looked like an inflatable girl that had gone wrong.
Plus, I didn’t have much that really fitted me any more. Stretch jeans and miniskirts aren’t exactly designed for a bulging body. And maternity clothes are. Which means that you might as well wear a dustbin bag with holes cut out for your arms. I’d seen a few pregnant women in dresses that actually showed the bulge, but there was no way I could go to school like that, it was asking for trouble.
I’d blown most of my savings on a maternity dress that was really cool. I found it in this trendy boutique for mothers-to-be. It was a knee-length A-line with a square neck and long sleeves, and an adjustable belt thing that tied high up at the back so you could wear it even after you had the baby. It came in green or blue. I reckoned green might make me look too much like a moving hillock, so I got it in blue. As per usual, Hilary Spiggs went mad when she found out how much I’d paid for it. She wanted me to wear the old junk she brought home. But I looked great in the dress. Only I couldn’t wear it every day, could I? I never wore the same thing twice in a row, unless it was pyjamas. I wasn’t going to let pregnancy force me to drop my standards.
The doorbell rang while I was trying on a heavy black jumper Charley’d left behind. It was so big that I didn’t look pregnant, I looked like I was swimming in treacle. I could leave my flies open and no one would ever know.
“I didn’t realize the ‘builder’ look was in this season,” said Shanee when I answered the door.
She used to wait for me at the post-box on the corner, but now she called at the house. I wasn’t sure if the Wicked Witch had put her up to it – to make sure I went to school – or if it really was because she got tired of waiting so long for me to get ready.
I struck a model-like pose.