Not My Daughter

And while Milly had told me everything, I’d kept this – Jack – from her. There had been ample opportunity to tell her I was seeing him – if I even was. But I hadn’t said anything to her; in fact, I’d deliberately avoided the topic, and I wasn’t sure why.

‘Yes, she is nauseous,’ I told Jack. ‘It isn’t too bad, though.’

‘Exciting times, really.’

‘Yes…’

‘Are you curious? About, you know, the baby? What it will look like, a bit of you, a bit of me…’ He rubbed his jaw, looking sheepish, and I had the jolting sensation that he was talking about our baby. I’d always tried not to think of it like that, but sitting in a bar, cradling a second glass of wine, with Jack gazing at me so warmly… I did. I thought of it exactly like that, and it was a shock to my entire system, every nerve and sense suddenly hyperaware of what he was saying, what it meant, the feelings I’d been pushing away rising up and overwhelming me. Our baby.

‘I suppose, yes,’ I answered after a moment. ‘Sometimes.’

‘I never thought I’d have kids myself, so it’s strange,’ he continued. ‘Wondering what it will look like. If I’ll see myself in him or her… or see you.’

‘I suppose you will, at least a little bit.’ My cheeks had started to warm, because this all felt oddly intimate. Our baby. Except it wasn’t. I’d told myself I didn’t need the reminder, but right then I knew I did, and it horrified me.

The next time Jack texted, he asked if I wanted to have dinner, which felt like a big step, but it was basically the same as before, chatting, laughing, and a kiss on the cheek at the end of the night. Somewhat to my surprise, Jack was quite the gentleman. Or perhaps this was all just friendly, and I was too inexperienced, too nervous, to know. I still didn’t tell Milly about any of it, and I told myself that was just because I didn’t know what to say. We weren’t really dating, were we?

Yet I knew by not saying anything, especially when she asked outright, I was keeping something from her, and it didn’t feel right. I have one secret from Milly, and I didn’t expect to have any more. I knew, if and when she found out, she’d be hurt.

* * *

The day before dinner with Milly and Matt, Jack rings, asking me if I want to go together, he can pick me up beforehand. I am startled, because this feels like some kind of statement, and yet it also makes sense.

When we arrive together, clearly having come in the same car, I can tell Milly is surprised, although she doesn’t say anything. Her gaze darts between Jack and me and then she turns away, fussing with the drinks.

‘We wanted to celebrate the end of the first trimester,’ Matt says as he pours us all champagne, with sparkling apple juice for Milly. ‘Since that typically means being out of the danger zone. It’s a big relief to us.’

‘Don’t jinx it,’ Milly protests, and I give her a reassuring smile, which she returns fleetingly before glancing away. I feel the burden of not telling her about Jack pressing down on me like a leaden weight.

‘Jack, have you seen this?’ Matt brings out the print-out of the scan that Milly showed me weeks ago, and Jack takes it, clearly not knowing what it is. I watch his face as he gazes at the blurry black and white image, seeing how confusion crinkles his forehead and clouds his eyes before realisation comes like a thunderclap, and his jaw drops.

He glances up at me. ‘Have you seen this?’ he asks, sounding a bit emotional, and almost imperceptibly, the mood shifts, tension twanging through the air, as if everyone has collectively drawn a silent breath.

‘Yes, but I’ll have another look.’ I move over to look at it with him, studying the curves and lines of the image, trying to see something recognisable in

it, something of myself or Jack, but I don’t. Yet sitting next to Jack, remembering how his lips felt on my cheek, feeling the intensity of his emotion as well as my own, I can’t ignore the treacherous whisper that steals through me, telling me that this baby truly is, at least in some small way, ours.

No, my head fires back. It’s just your genes.

‘You must be so thrilled,’ Jack says after an extended pause. He hands the photo back. ‘Congratulations again. Amazing news.’

Another awkward pause and then the conversation restarts, with Milly asking Jack about the house he’s renovating, and Matt pouring more wine, and then I ask Milly about baby names, which she answers in a slightly brittle way; it’s as if her happiness has a slight edge now, and I am afraid that it’s my fault.

‘Alice for a girl, after my grandmother,’ she tells us. ‘William for a boy.’

‘Those are wonderful names.’

She nods in acceptance, not quite looking at me.

The tension thickens when Jack and I make to leave, clearly together, and Matt and Milly are standing by the door.

‘Did you come in the same car?’ Milly asks, even though she must have already realised that we did.

‘Yeah, we did,’ Jack says, and then to my shock he slings an arm around my shoulders. I stand there rigidly, feeling as if he has just branded me, and not entirely sure if I like it.

Matt looks surprised and Milly’s eyes widen and something like alarm flashes across her face, and I know right then why I haven’t mentioned seeing Jack. Because I knew she wouldn’t like it. And while part of me wants to slip out from under Jack’s arm, I don’t. Instead I move a little closer, so my hip nudges his, and smile. The silence stretches on.

‘Oh,’ Milly says finally, and then can’t seem to think of anything to add to that. ‘Oh.’