The Baby Diaries. Sam Binnie

[pulling him down beside me] I promise. No turkey until at least the 17th. But thank you, for all these things over the year. It’s been lovely. And I think next year might be lovely too.

      TO DO:

      Double check which foods I’m allowed to eat, before Christmas kicks in properly

      December 4th

      Time to tell Eve. Why was I nervous? This wasn’t the Eve of old, this was new Eve. Nice Eve. Thoughtful Eve. Normal Human Being Eve. Since she’d tried to seduce Thom at her last birthday party, met someone she’d actually cared about for once (the lovely baker Mike) and faced my half-hearted wrath, Eve had changed. I loved seeing her now – she no longer made me feel guilty or inadequate. Yet, still so nervous.

      She’d come over to mine for lunch, and was loitering in the kitchen doorway while I got everything together.

      Eve: I brought some wine – shall I open it?

      Me: Yes please. Just a bit for me, though, thanks.

      Eve: Late night last night?

      Me: [brightly] No, it turns out I’m pregnant! Oops. Didn’t mean for that to happen. Not that I’m an idiot or anything. Just … statistically unlikely. But it’s fine. I’m fine, and the baby’s fine, although I’m still not used to it actually being a baby – I just like to think of it as a thing I’ll have to get round to dealing with sometime next year. Ha!

      Eve: Oh right. Cool.

      And that was it. She didn’t ask any more, and I didn’t volunteer it. We ate lunch, and talked about work and our families, then she left. I felt flat.

      When Thom got home from the pub, I was still lying with my face half-pressed into the sofa, watching something dreadful on TV with my open eye.

      Thom: Eve back on form?

      Me: No! She was fine. It was nice to see her. She just didn’t really … care.

      Thom: Wasn’t that what you wanted? Better that than her telling you how to name it and where we should live and what clever little vintage items it ought to wear, isn’t it?

      Me: I suppose so.

      Thom: Keeks, I know she’s been different these last few months, but a leopard can’t change its spots entirely. Just think about all the other people who do make you happy: Suse, Zoe, Alice – have you seen Greta recently?

      Me: No! That will be nice! You’re right. It’s just habit with Eve. But you’re right.

      TO DO:

      Stop having high hopes for Eve

      Start enjoying the rest of our friends while I can

      Remember I’m not dying, just having a baby

      December 6th

      An evening to try again with Jacki. She’d emailed me this time, asking if I wanted pre-Christmas cocktails at the Dorchester after work, even though we’ve only just seen one another. I knew I had to get there before her, to order my soft drinks again, so I left the office at 5; walking up Oxford Street towards Marble Arch, admiring the windows, but hurrying. I got there almost half an hour early, bursting into the bar in a sweat, and grateful that I’d have time to compose myself. But Jacki was already there.

      Jacki: [waving] Woohoo!

      Me: Jacki! Hello? Didn’t we say six?

      Jacki: I thought so. Thirsty?

      Me: I am, yeah.

      Jacki: [gesturing to a barman] Here, it’s coming over now. [taking two drinks from the waiter]

      Me: [smelling it] Oh … lovely. Thank you. What is it? [lifting it to my mouth]

      Jacki: It’s called a Belladonna.

      Me: [wetting my lips with it] Mmm, what’s in it?

      Jacki: Gin and rum. And apricot liqueur.

      Me: [still holding the glass to my lips] MmmMMMm.

      Jacki: And a double whisky.

      Me: [putting glass down] Alright, enough. [wiping mouth] Oh, that is good though. How long have you known?

      Jacki: I had an email from Polka Dot telling me they were looking for my replacement editor and would let me know as soon as they could.

      Me: What?

      Jacki: Which is exactly how I felt. Why the hell didn’t you tell me, Kiki?

      Me: Well, partly because I only found out really recently –

      Jacki: So you didn’t know last time I saw you?

      Me: Um.

      Jacki: Was this a pity silence? Was I so sad that you couldn’t even tell me you were pregnant?

      Me: No, of course not!

      Jacki: So what was it, then?

      Me: It wasn’t pity, it was just tact. You were sad, because of course you would be, because your husband …

      Jacki: He’s not my husband.

      Me: I’m sorry, Jacks. You know what I mean. Of course you would be sad, and we were talking about that, and I didn’t think it was appropriate to say, ‘Hey, guess what! I’m having a baby!’

      Jacki: [quiet] OK. Alright, Keeks. What a pair we are, hey?

      So Jacki drank both the Belladonnas, and I drank some amazing ginger and apple things, and we stayed there for a while. I told her about the scan, and how my family and Polka Dot were taking it.

      Me: Hey, Jacks, do you want to be godmother to this baby? Well, not godmother godmother. Non- godmother. What do you say?

      Jacki: Did you just think of that?

      Me: Nope.

      Jacki: Kiki?

      Me: Please? It’s all so medical I could do with a little laughter and colour in the mix. As long as the colour isn’t flesh pink or wound red.

      Jacki: Oh, you do know how to sell it, Kiki. Can I think about it?

      We kissed and said goodbye, and I headed home to collapse on the sofa and tell Thom the good news.

      Thom: Jacki Jones Jacki?

      Me: Yes.

      Thom: As the baby’s godmother?

      Me: Non-godmother. I’m not dunking my baby for anybody.

      Thom: Jacki Jacki Jones?

      Me: Yes, Thom.

      Thom: [thinking] Sure, that sounds nice.

      December 7th

      Thom woke me up this morning.

      Thom: Uh, Kiki?

      Me: Unnnnn. What?

      Thom: What was the last thing you got in the advent calendar?

      Me: Nnnnidunno. Mm. Maybe … oh, a lip balm. Why? What did you get today?

      Thom: Look.

      I finally opened my eyes to see what it was. Thom was holding up a slightly chewed stumpy pencil, the kind of thing Dad always keeps behind his ear at college. I felt baffled, then I realised that Susie had finally excelled herself.

      Me: Oh my God … it was Susie!

      Thom: How do you work that out?

      Me: When she was over the other night, she had me rooting around for ages, trying to find a top she’d lent me. That bloody