Not What They Were Expecting. Neal Doran

folks.

      ‘So have you heard from Matty?’ Rebecca asked her mum as they split away from ‘the boys’ and Howard took James to see a new programme for his computer.

      ‘We got a call last night, it was already Christmas where he is, and he was just going into work at the hotel, and some of the people from his hostel were getting together to have Christmas dinner on the beach.’

      ‘Sounds like he’s having a fab time.’

      ‘It’s a funny way to spend Christmas, his first time away from home. I hope he’s OK. I just worry he’s not going to eat enough before drinking. Or they won’t cook something properly on the barbecue and he’ll get food poisoning.’

      ‘You just worry, Mum.’

      ‘I just remember that time he got carried away and had that barbecue chicken that hadn’t finished cooking and was terribly ill for more than a week. He doesn’t think about these things, and he won’t have anyone to look after him.’

      ‘That happened over a decade ago, he was seven!’

      ‘Still, having him ill on the other side of the world would be the last thing we’d need right now.’

      ‘Right now…?’

      ‘And the thing is, it’s got everything on there you’d ever need to know. Do you know how much data it stores?’

      ‘Gigabytes, I’d bet.’

      ‘Terabytes! Terabytes of the stuff.’

      As Dad and James came back into the room Rebecca felt a fluttering in her stomach. The champagne or Buck’s Fizz question would be next, it was coming up to the time to tell them.

      ‘Right then!’ barked Howard, with a clap of his hands. He opened his mouth to say something, but paused, looking at Penny like he’d forgotten his next line.

      ‘I was just telling Rebecca that Matthew had called last night and it was already Christmas,’ said Penny.

      ‘Ha! Yep, yep, yep, he’ll be pissed and chasing around some poor Aussie girl with the mistletoe by now, the little bugger.’

      The expectant silence returned to the room. Dad always does the big host thing, thought Rebecca, this was his favourite moment. So why was he standing there with his hands in his pockets?

      ‘I’ll just go and get the stuff in from the car,’ announced James.

      ‘I’ll give you a hand,’ said Rebecca.

      ‘No, no, you’re fine. Not in your cond…’ Rebecca’s eyebrows flared at James across the breakfast counter. ‘I mean OK, you can grab the pressies.’

      The couple scurried out to the car.

      ‘What the hell is going on in there?’ asked Rebecca as James opened the boot.

      ‘I know, I know, sorry, it almost slipped out.’

      ‘Not that. With Dad.’

      ‘He was just showing me one of his heritage research programmes. He likes me to see this stuff, he’s just being nice in his way.’

      ‘Are you doing this deliberately?’

      ‘What?’

      ‘The atmosphere! I had to get out of there.’

      ‘That was about ninety seconds. Are you trying to set some sort of new record?’

      ‘Something’s going on. Did Dad say anything to you?

      ‘Just the usual. He’s really getting into the family tree stuff this time, said it’s good to get away from it all.’

      ‘What did he mean by that? Get away from what?’

      ‘Come on. You’re just edgy about telling them, let’s go and spread some joy, eh? That M&S bag for life’s got the stuff for your folks.’

      James bounded up the stairs with the overnight bag, while Rebecca slowly headed back towards the kitchen. As she walked in she saw her mother’s eyebrows flare at her dad, and her dad hop slightly.

      ‘Presents, oh goodie!’ said Howard clapping and rubbing his hands together as James reappeared by Rebecca’s side. ‘Right then it’s officially Christmas. Drinkies time. Champagne or Buck’s Fizz?’

      ‘Straight up bubbly for me please,’ said James grinning, while looking Rebecca in the eyes.

      ‘Just an orange juice for me please,’ she said, bouncing on her heels gently, her tingly fingers fluttering by her side.

      Meaningful looks bounced around the room. Rebecca’s parents looked at her, tentatively checking they weren’t jumping to conclusions. Penny looked at Howard, fiddling with the wire on the champagne bottle. James stepped across to link fingers with Rebecca, and grinned at his in-laws with a cheeky look on his face. Penny was already in tears.

      ‘Something you two want to tell us?’ asked Howard. ‘You’re not on those anti-bi –’.

      ‘I’m pregnant!’ Rebecca said.

      There was a delighted shriek and gruff cheers as Penny and Howard swooped on their daughter. James had never seen the two of them move so fast as congratulations and garbled questions built up on top of each other, Rebecca answering half of one before moving on to the next, speaking garbled happy nonsense. Then the attention turned to him, with hugs and back slaps and laughter.

      ‘A toast! Drinks for those drinking,’ declared Howard. ‘And juice and a seat for the new mummy.’

      ‘To be,’ added Rebecca, taking the seat being offered at the kitchen breakfast bar, while her parents fussed with glasses.

      ‘To the new master Winfield,’ pronounced Howard. ‘Or miss. Mzz, I suppose. Do you know what he’s going to be yet?’

      ‘They won’t know that kind of thing yet, dear,’ said Penny. ‘Always getting ahead of himself. No patience, your father.’

      ‘It’s still very early days yet. Only seven weeks so, y’know, there’s still a chance it won’t… We probably shouldn’t really be too…’ said Rebecca, unable to complete the warning.

      ‘We’ll be fine,’ said James, with an arm around her, while Penny surreptitiously tapped the counter top. ‘I’m practising my breathing already.’

      ‘It’s going to be fantastic. And they’ll get an idea of what they put us through, isn’t that right, grandma?’ said Howard.

      ‘Oh, don’t,’ said Penny with a giggle. ‘Grandma! I’m going to have to book in with the hairdressers for a heap of maintenance work now if I’m going to be a grandma.’

      ‘Blue rinse?’ asked Rebecca.

      ‘I’ll have to stock up boiled sweets,’ said Penny.

      ‘And you’ll have to get loads of–’ James was about to make a joke about knitting doilies for ornaments before he remembered the Collinses’ lounge was already full of the things ‘– loads of wool, for booties.’

      ‘Booties! You remember how many of those your mother made before Becky was born?’ Howard said to Penny, before turning to the kids. ‘We had a house nearly as tiny as yours, just full of them. And you never wore the blighted things! Pulled ’em off, had the occasional suck on one.’

      ‘I’ve still got them somewhere if you’d like them,’ offered Penny.

      ‘They’re not going to want those old moth-eaten things,’ Howard said.

      ‘It’d be lovely to see them if you can dig them out,’ said Rebecca.

      ‘Retro’s very in, from what I’ve read in the parenting magazines,’ added James.

      ‘Parenting magazines? None of that stuff in our