Happily Ever After_ - Benison Anne O'Reilly [124]
When I asked her to explain she said, ‘I’m not saying I approve in any way of what you did, but it’s clear he is in love with you and intends to do the right thing by you.’
‘How come you know that?’
‘Oh Eleanor, you just have to see the way he looks at you.’
That sounded familiar. Then I remembered that Stacey (who did turn out to be James’ girlfriend, now fiancée actually) had said something similar after our encounter at the Opera House, although it had never occurred to me at the time to think it was love she’d witnessed. I’d thought it was lust, or guilt or anxiety about being caught by Tony or something. I grew up believing I was a smart little cookie but I’m beginning to think I am almost as clueless about the opposite sex as my now ex-husband. Our marriage probably didn’t stand a chance.
No-one needs to convince me that Alex loves me these days. I was such a bitch throughout my pregnancy and yet he kept coming back for more.
I had another one of those ‘uncomplicated’ pregnancies: uncomplicated apart from the acrimonious divorce proceedings, with disputes about property settlement (Tony demanded a 60:40 split because of his family’s contribution to the renovations) and a bitter custody battle; uncomplicated except for me trying to negotiate a brand new relationship in the midst of all this; uncomplicated except for constant questions from my daughter about why her mummy and daddy no longer spoke to one another and why Daddy chose to live so far away from her in a foreign land; uncomplicated except for the constant nagging fear that my tiny baby would die as retribution for my sins.
I didn’t get fat this time, however. I was too stressed to eat - some small consolation.
Oh, I almost forgot the paternity testing. How embarrassing was that. I can tell you that fronting up to an obstetrician to request a test to find out the father of my unborn child was not a scenario that ever featured in my wildest teenage fantasies! I needn’t have worried as Greg was non-judgmental (although I might have detected a subtle and unprofessional smirk - Tony and he never got on, remember). He tried to discourage me from testing, explaining that it would require an amniocentesis, which might increase my risk of miscarriage. Great.
I endured several sleepless nights before that amnio, not to mention several sleepless weeks afterwards, but went against my doctor’s advice just the same. I was acquiescing to all Tony’s demands by this stage, hoping that if I was obliging about everything else he would eventually see reason on the only thing I really cared about: custody of Isabel.
There were many nasty phone calls during my pregnancy, so it was fortunate that I also got to make the best one of my life. It went something like this:
Alex: Alex Anderson speaking.
Me: Helloo, daddy.
Alex: [Pause] Really?
Me: Yes, really.
Alex: No chance of a mistake?
Me: Absolutely no mistake.
Alex: Fuck…
Me: No I think we did that part.
Alex: [Laughter] Sorry, I just wasn’t expecting this.
Me: I know you weren’t. I was.
Alex: How come?
Me: Just a feeling - women’s intuition I guess.
Alex: You never told me.
Me: No, just in case my intuition was wrong.
Alex: Yeah, probably wise. Well this makes everything a lot…
Me: Better.
Alex: I was going to say easier.
Me: Better.
Alex: Okay, better.
Me: Do you want to know what we’re having?
Alex: Yes…no…I don’t know. You know?
Me: Yeah.
Alex: Well you’re not going to be able to keep it secret so you may as well tell me.
Me: Are you sure? And I can keep a secret.
Alex: No, I want to know.
Me: Okay…it’s a boy.
Alex: A boy…wow…That’s what you were hoping for, isn’t it?
Me: Yeah…a bit. But it didn’t matter so much. He’s just got to be healthy.
Alex: Everything’s going to be fine.
Me: I know he’s okay at the moment anyway - he’s practising his left-cross kick as we speak.
Alex: That’s my boy.
Me: You didn’t take long to adjust to the role.
Alex: No, I think this will take me a while to get used to…You know I’ve got a bloody meeting I’m meant to