Milan lives in Stockwell, and owns a tall, thin, white-stuccoed terraced house in a beautiful Victorian square. Adam rang the doorbell and Marika opened the door. She was dressed in an apron (most unusual) and was sparkling with happiness. Milan came up behind her grinning his gap-toothed smile. I could see past them into a long cosy candlelit hallway. The sandblasted oak floor glowing gold. We went to cross the threshold, but a smell hit me; it was like running full pelt into a brick wall. I normally love it when Marika makes Bryndzove Halušky, which is special pasta served with sheep’s cheese and bacon. But that night the aroma of it was so vile to my pregnancy-addled brain that my stomach contracted, and I puked up a little lumpy mouthful of ginger biscuits, which splattered on the doorstep. I pulled out some tissues, which were whipped out of my hand by the wind and blown into the green in the centre of the square. I managed to keep hold of one, wiping my mouth, as I fled from the scene leaving Adam to explain to a very confused Marika and Milan.

  He caught up with me a few minutes later. I was bent double, in tears by a phone box outside an off license, trying to get the goaty tang of cheese and bacon out of my nose. He went into the shop and emerged with a bottle of water, tissues, and ginger biscuits.

  I took a sip of the water gratefully.

  ‘You should keep out of the cold, even if you are boiling hot,’ he said. He opened the phone box but it was disgusting inside. ‘Can you walk?’

  ‘In a minute…’ I said. We moved over to a long low wall surrounding some council flats and sat down.

  ‘Coco. We can have… you can… You don’t have to have this baby,’ said Adam. ‘I’ll support you whatever you want to do.’

  We sat on the wall for a long time in silence, cars swooshing past.

  ‘What did you say to Marika and Milan?’

  ‘I told them you had food poisoning.’

  ‘And they believed you?’

  ‘Why wouldn’t they?’ he said. We looked at each other for a long moment.

  ‘There is one thing I’d like to ask,’ he said.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Can I take a picture of your tits on my phone? They look incredible…’

  For the first time in ages, we laughed.

  When I had my breath back, we hailed a taxi and it was thankfully an uneventful journey home. I brushed my teeth, had a long warm shower, before pulling on a pair of Adam’s pyjamas and joining him on our improvised bed on the sofa.

  ’Do you want me to phone up tomorrow?’ he asked. ‘What do you do? Just ask for a…’

  ‘It’s an abortion. I’ll book the abortion,’ I said. Rocco jumped up and curled himself up in between our legs. He rested his warm muzzle on my foot and gave a snort of contentment.

  For the first night in ages I fell into a deep sleep.

  Monday 23rd January

  It was getting light through the window when I was woken by the whistling noise of my phone. A text had come through. I unhooked Adam’s arm from around my waist and reached up on the armrest of the sofa. It was from the NHS to say I was booked in for my scan at 9.30am at University College Hospital. I saw Rocco had woken up, and was sitting to attention, staring at me intently. Adam was still asleep. Rocco gave a quiet and considerate little wuff, so I quietly got up and took him out for a walk.

  Regent’s Park was almost empty, and very grey, but I was calm. I’d made a choice. I didn’t know if it was the right choice, but I’d made it. I pulled my phone out to cancel the scan but it rang in my hand. It was Chris.

  ‘Hi Cokes! Did I wake you?’ he asked.

  ‘No I’m up. Are you okay?’

  ‘Yes… No,’ he said. ‘I’m lying in my beautiful apartment, looking out of a glass wall at miles of Los Angeles, lit up in the darkness. The entertainment world is literally at my feet, and I have no one to share it with.’

  ‘I thought you were loving it there?’ I said.

  ‘I’m lonely Coco. I’ve got all this bloody money, but it can’t seem to buy me out of loneliness.’

  ‘I thought you’d made some friends?’

  ‘I did, but they disconnected me.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I didn’t know they were Scientologists, and I might have mentioned, as a joke, that I thought it was a lot of mumbo jumbo.’

  ‘Oh. Sorry. Have you seen any famous people?’

  ‘Ooh! Yes. I did see someone we both like,’ he said excitedly.

  ‘Was it Jennifer Lawrence?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Cameron Diaz?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Kirstie Alley?’

  ‘No. No, it was that girl, the one who was down the well in ‘The Silence of the Lambs’.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘You know in ‘The Silence of the Lambs’… The Senator’s daughter, captured by Buffalo Bill… She coaxes the little Bichon Frise down the well with a chicken bone? I saw her in the supermarket. She was buying kale.’

  ‘Since when do I like her?’

  ‘You like ‘The Silence of the Lambs’…’

  I realised I had to get off the phone and ring the hospital.

  ‘You’re right Cokes. She was a crap spot,’ said Chris.

  ‘I didn’t say that.’

  ‘You didn’t have to say it,’ he sighed. ‘I’ve had so much time to think since I moved out here. What will be my legacy? I have to make this career work as a film director, because I have nothing else. I’m hideously old.’

  ‘You’re only forty-five.’

  ‘Exactly. In gay years that’s geriatric… And you aren’t getting any younger Cokes.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  ‘No you look great, but you were always my Plan B. The one I thought I could have a baby with and now, well, no offence. I doubt a miracle could happen – you’ll soon be forty-five.’

  He took me off guard. I forced out a little laugh. He went on,

  ‘And Marika’s womb is spoken for. She sounds very serious about this Milan guy.’

  I was now rounding the corner that would take me back home.

  ‘Look, I’m sorry Chris. I have to go. I’m out with Rocco,’ I said.

  ‘Yes, you go… Maybe I’ll get a dog. A dog would give my life purpose… but my carpets are white…’

  ‘I’ll call you in the next day or so. Love you,’ I said. I rang off as the sun came out. The park was transformed, sun glinting off the water and making it all come alive. Rocco came bounding up and gave my hand a lick, before running off again. I couldn’t get Chris’s word out of my head.

  Miracle.

  I arrived home as Adam was folding up the duvet.

  ‘Are you okay?’ he asked.

  ‘I’ve got a scan at nine-thirty.’

  We looked at each other for a long moment.

  ‘Do you want me to cancel it?’ he asked. I could see he was clamping up every emotion inside him. I tapped my phone against my teeth.

  ‘No. I should go,’ I said quickly, and then scuttled off to the bathroom. I spent a long time zoned-out under the water until Adam started knocking, saying he’d ordered a taxi.

  It was a short ride to University College Hospital. We rode in silence, holding hands.

  We took a lift up to the maternity unit, and we were shown straight away into the consulting room. The sonographer was a thin woman in white, with long grey hair wound up in a bun.

  ‘Right, would you like to hop up onto the table please,’ she asked, pulling a roll of paper out for me to lie on. I swung myself up on the examination table and hitched up my jumper. I remembered the smell of the disinfectant and the feel of the rough paper sheet under my back from all those years ago. The sonographer pulled over a trolley with wires hanging from a monitor.

  ‘The gel might be a bit cold,’ she said. Her voice was soft and soothing. She squeezed a bottle and gel plopped out on my stomach, on top of the faded stretch marks from when I’d had Rosencrantz.

  Adam was sitting beside me and grabbed my hand as she began to slowly smooth out the gel on
my stomach with the scanner.

  ‘It’s quite overwhelming, being pregnant,’ she said softly. ‘It happens every day, but it never ceases to be wonderful.’

  A loud whoomping echoing sound, like a ball bouncing around a tunnel came out of the speakers.

  ‘And that’s the heartbeat,’ she smiled as she carried on smoothing the scanner across my stomach. Adam and I were speechless. It was so quick and strong and vital.

  ‘Right, I’m just doing a check to see that everything is okay.’ There was a silence as she peered at the screen, a few minutes ticked past.

  ‘Everything looks…. Perfectly normal,’ she said turning the monitor round to face us. The liquid black screen had what looked like a shard of light illuminating the profile of a baby. It was lying on its back with a big round head and little feet sticking up in the air. I couldn’t believe how detailed it was.

  ‘That’s in here?’ I asked, pointing from the screen to my stomach. The sonographer smiled and nodded.

  ‘You can see a nose and a mouth,’ said Adam his voice catching in his throat. ‘A head! And a body! Look Coco, the mouth is moving.’ Just then the baby on screen lifted a tiny arm.

  ‘It’s lifting an arm! It’s got an arm and fingers!’ shouted Adam excitedly. ‘Did you count them alright? Has he got ten fingers?’

  ‘No,’ said the sonographer.

  ‘No? Is there a problem?’ said Adam.

  ‘Your baby has eight fingers and two thumbs,’ she grinned.

  ‘Oh my god, a baby, our baby,’ I said in wonderment.

  ‘That baby is really inside her, right now?’ said Adam. In our shock we were coming across as two utter plonkers, but the sonographer was very kind and nodded.

  ‘Hello,’ said Adam running his finger along the tiny hand on the screen. ‘He’s so tiny, how big is he?’ The sonographer moved the scanner around my stomach.

  ‘I can’t see if your baby is a he or a she, but it’s about the size of a Mars bar.’

  ‘What size?’ I said seriously.

  ‘A Mars bar,’ she repeated.

  ‘Is that normal? It being as big as a Mars bar?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘A king-size Mars? A normal Mars, a fun size? What’s normal?’

  ‘A normal Mars bar,’ grinned the sonographer.

  ‘It’s just I drink, drank a lot,’ I said. ‘Well, that was my diagnosis.’

  ‘What have you been diagnosed with?’

  ‘I haven’t been to a doctor. We added up our units on the BBC website and we found out we’re binge drinkers.’

  ‘Which is surprisingly little,’ said Adam. ‘And she stopped drinking completely when she found out she was pregnant a month ago.’

  ‘Your baby is healthy,’ smiled the sonographer. Adam and I stared at the screen, the minutes ticked by and we just stared, open-mouthed. There was a soft whirring sound as she printed off some pictures. She went on to say that I was actually twelve weeks pregnant, and my due date would be August 8th.

  ‘August the eighth, have we got anything on that day?’ said Adam quite seriously.

  ‘No, I think it’s free,’ I said still in a daze. ‘You’re sure it’s not a crossed signal from another scanning machine?’

  ‘No, it’s your baby,’ said the sonographer. I’m surprised she didn’t suggest a visit from social services. How could these two morons bring up a child?

  We were both crying, tears running down our cheeks. Adam grinned and leaned across and kissed me. I knew then we were going to have this baby.

  The sonographer gently wiped off my stomach with some paper towel.

  ‘You’re past the first trimester now… and out of the most dangerous bit of your pregnancy. You might like to consider telling people,’ she said and handed me printouts of the ultrasound.

  It was a different world when we came out of the hospital. The sun was shining, we were both smiling from ear to ear, and I suddenly felt this warm maternal feeling kicking in. I am pregnant; I’m going to have a baby, our baby.

  ‘We have to tell people!’ I said.

  ‘Tomorrow,’ said Adam. ‘Let’s keep this between you and me for one night. Our secret.’

  We came home and talked and talked, about if it was going to be a boy or a girl, what it would look like, and which room would be the nursery. He pulled out the ultra sound picture and leant down and kissed my stomach.

  ‘I can’t believe there’s a baby in here!’ he said.

  ‘The second I saw it everything changed,’ I said. We felt this incredible bond of love and warmth and excitement.

  ‘Of course now we have to unpack,’ said Adam looking round at the boxes in the living room.

  ‘Let’s do it in the morning,’ I said.

  Thursday 26th January

  We invited Rosencrantz over this evening. I wanted to tell him face to face that at the age of twenty-two he will shortly have a baby brother or sister. He was the person I was most looking forward to telling, and I was excited all day in anticipation.

  Adam ordered pizza and we took the plastic off another chair and lit a fire. When Rosencrantz arrived he looked handsome, but a bit thin. He was wearing big timberland boots, jeans, and a checked shirt. His dark hair was now cropped close to his head.

  ‘You’re not on another diet love?’ I asked.

  ‘No, Ibiza was crazy, I sort of forgot to eat!’ he grinned. ‘Did you see my Instagram photos?’

  I said we had; all five hundred of them. He gave Adam and me a huge hug, and then knelt down to tickle Rocco’s little furry face.

  ‘Can I get you a drink Rosencrantz?’ said Adam.

  ‘I’ll have a beer, thanks.’

  Adam went off into the kitchen and we came into the living room, Rosencrantz carrying Rocco.

  ‘As you can see we haven’t quite got round to unpacking,’ I said.

  ‘You’ve been back for a month,’ he laughed. ‘That’s classic Mum!’ Adam came back in with drinks, beers for them and an orange juice for me.

  ‘Let’s sit down,’ I said nervously. We all sat by the fire. Rosencrantz downed half his bottle of beer in one gulp. I looked at Adam. I went to open my mouth when Rosencrantz said,

  ‘I’ve got huge news!’

  ‘What’s that love?’ I asked.

  ‘You know Oscar, my housemate? Well he’s no longer my housemate…’ he looked at us with a grin.

  ‘Is he moving out?’ asked Adam.

  ‘No. He’s no longer my housemate because he is my boyfriend.’

  ‘That’s lovely,’ I said. Rosencrantz went on,

  ‘Do you think it’s going to be weird? I don’t think it will be because we’ve lived together in the house share with Wayne for a year now, and I really love Oscar, and he loves me. He told me so the other night at Pizza Hut.’

  We stared at him with fixed smiles. This wasn’t going to plan. I’d wanted to get it over with, and tell him about the baby as quickly as possible. All I could say was,

  ‘Ooh. Pizza Hut?’

  ‘Yes I know what you’re thinking, Pizza Hut, how can that be romantic? But it was romantic because it was so low key… I mean you watch those shows like ‘The Bachelor’ where they have a meal under the stars with champagne, but it’s just so staged and pre-meditated.’

  Adam and I still didn’t know what to say. All I could come up with was, ‘I’ve never seen ‘The Bachelor’.’

  ‘Oh it’s quite good Mum,’ he said. ‘I know I’ve never told anyone I loved them before. I don’t want you to worry; we are serious but I’m not going to do it without a condom.’

  ‘Rosencrantz, I’m your mother!’ I said.

  ‘Surely you want me to be honest with you? It’s the next step in a gay relationship, to take HIV tests and have unprotected sex. You always told me to use a condom, and that’s what I’ll do. Of course that was when you thought I liked girls and could get them pregnant, but it’s just as important when you’re gay.’

  I went to interrupt but he laughed saying,
r />
  ‘Just think yourself lucky I am gay and I won’t get some girl pregnant. You two have only just got married, and you wouldn’t want to have to babysit some screaming tot!’

  ‘Rosencrantz, we’ve got something to…’ but he cut me off.

  ‘We might do a Civil Partnership though, wouldn’t that be cool?’ he finished off his beer.

  ‘Are you not drinking Mum?’ he asked, noticing my orange juice.

  ‘No, I’m not…’

  ‘What? Come on Mum, you’ve moved back home, and I’ve got a gorgeous new man. Let’s celebrate! I’ll grab you a beer.’ He left the room and came back with two beers, and downed half of one again.

  ‘No, I’m fine thanks love.’

  ‘Go on Mum. You’re not on some stupid January detox?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Then have a drink silly,’ he said pushing the bottle at me.

  ‘I can’t,’ I said. ‘Look, sit down, I have to tell you something.’ Rosencrantz sat down. I suddenly felt embarrassed. Adam held my hand.

  ‘Rosencrantz, love… It started a couple of weeks ago, when I couldn’t keep my food down, so I went to see the doctor…’

  ‘Oh my God,’ said Rosencrantz, his beautiful green eyes filling up with tears. ‘I’ve been going on and you’ve been diagnosed with …’

  ‘No,’ I smiled. ‘No. I’m not ill; I’ve not been diagnosed with anything. Well I have been diagnosed… As pregnant… Rosencrantz love, I’m pregnant.’

  Rosencrantz froze, his mouth agape. There was a long awkward silence.

  ‘It is mine, of course,’ said Adam. I gave him a look. Rosencrantz remained frozen with his mouth open.

  ‘Well say something. You looked happier when you thought I was dying.’ Rosencrantz finished his second beer, then started on the third.