‘I thought it was Clive,’ she wheezes, clearly exhausted from her battle.
‘Cathy, I’ll deal with it,’ He places her to the side and gives her arm a reassuring rub as she straightens her apron and hair.
‘Who the hell does she think she is?’ she spits nastily. I’ve never seen Cathy cross before.
‘Cathy,’ Jesse placates her gently, ‘Please, go and sort out some breakfast for Ava.’ He’s whispering as he effortlessly holds the door shut, like he doesn’t want me to hear him, but the persistent banging from the other side is letting him down.
I look on as Cathy marches off, hissing and spitting to herself, and then my eyes fall on Jesse as I land at the bottom of the stairs. He’s spotted me, and the wary look all over his face instantly has me on edge. ‘What’s going on?’ I ask.
‘Nothing, baby’ He tries to smile but fails miserably. He’s all jittery. It doesn’t sit well. ‘Cathy’s making your breakfast. Go.’
‘I’m not hungry.’ I reply flatly, staring him down.
‘Ava, you didn’t eat last night. Go and have some breakfast.’ His tone is altering to impatient by the second and all the while, the banging continues.
I can’t believe he is being all concerned and honestly thinks that his demand for me to eat is going to pull me away from the mystery behind the door. ‘I said I’m not hungry.’ I stand firm, my eyes burning red rings of furious fire into his greens. I feel really mad.
The door jolts, and Jesse lets out a frustrated growl, his jaw ticking wildly as his looks up to the heavens for strength. I would like to think that it’s the tenacious idiot hammering on the penthouse door who’s causing his mounting anger, but I know it’s me. ‘Ava, why the fuck can’t you do what you’re told?’ His head drops, and I know instantly he means business. ‘Go. And. Get. Your. Breakfast.’ He speaks each word slowly and concisely, but I mean business, too.
‘No,’ I steam forward, not in the least bit bothered by my half naked body, and grasp the door handle. ‘Let go.’ I pull, for what use it is, which is none at all. ‘Jesse, open the fucking door!’
‘Watch your…’
‘Fuck off!’ I snap, yanking at the door like a deranged, hormone pumped pregnant woman.
‘Ava!’ He holds it in place as I fight pointlessly to pull it open. I’ll never win, but I’m not backing down. No way.
But then we both freeze in place when a voice interrupts our spitting match, and it’s neither of ours. If I was a little cranky before, I’ve just been catapulted into the realms of psychotic. There will be no need for him to open this door because at any moment, I’m going to be flying around this apartment like the Tasmanian Devil himself, and I’ll smash it down.
I look up at him with clenched teeth. He visibly sags. ‘What the hell is she doing here?’ I use his lapse in concentration and his defeated hold to my advantage and pull the door open, coming face to face with Coral. ‘What the hell are you doing here?’ I hiss, looking her up and down in utter contempt. Her hair is tied up today, her short black bob giving her a pathetic excuse for a ponytail, such a bitchy thought, but it’s going to be the first of many. I can feel it, and they might not just be thoughts.
She blanks me completely and looks straight at my bare chested God. Why the hell didn’t he put some jeans and a t-shirt on? ‘I need to speak to you.’ She sounds determined. ‘Alone.’ she adds, flicking an impertinent look at me. Her fortitude will be of zero help. She’ll have to rip him from my dying hands before I leave them alone.
‘You’ve got more chance of having tea with the Queen,’ I snarl. My fury is building by the second, and I absolutely cannot control it. ‘What do you want?’ I feel Jesse’s hand rest lightly on the small of my shirt covered back. It’s a silent demand to calm myself down. It’ll never work. The more I look at this impudent hussy, the angrier I’m getting, if that’s possible. I feel like a pressure cooker, set to explode. ‘I asked you a question.’
‘Ava,’ Jesse’s calming voice just infuriates me further. ‘Calm yourself down, baby.’ His palm slides around to my front to hold my tummy. He’s worried about my blood pressure, the anxious fool. My blood pressure should be the least of his worries. Blood spilt, that’s what he should be concerned about.
‘I’m calm,’ I’m clearly not. ‘I won’t ask you again.’ I push Jesse’s hand away from my stomach, but he doesn’t let me get away with it. He pulls me back so I’m slightly behind him, and then holds his arm out to the side in silent warning. It won’t work, but he starts speaking before I can wrestle his arm out of my way.
‘Coral, I’ve told you before. It’s never going to happen.’ His tone is tinged with anger, but after my little performance, I can’t be sure if it’s for my benefit or Coral’s. ‘You need to fuck off and find someone else to stalk.’
I’m mentally cheering him on, even though I’m sure that I’m in for it when she concedes and clears off. I must look ridiculous in Jesse’s shirt, my hair a wild mass of chocolate waves, yesterday’s make-up on and being held back by my virtually naked husband.
Coral’s eyes cross from Jesse’s to mine a few times before she settles her smug stare on my God again. I don’t like that look. It’s bold, and I’m sure her next words will be, too. She’s going nowhere until she’s said what she came to say, and I’m annoyingly curious of what that is exactly. ‘Have it your way.’ She shrugs nonchalantly and holds a piece of paper out to Jesse.
‘What the fuck is that?’ he barks intolerantly.
‘Take a look for yourself.’ She flaps the paper, encouraging Jesse to take it. I can’t help it; my neck is craning to try and see for myself, but his arm pushes me back again.
He snatches it, and I watch as his head drops to look, then I look at Coral, who is performing the best sly smirk I have ever had the pleasure of witnessing. What’s her game? My eyes are on Jesse’s back, which is stiff as a board, his muscles protruding, indicating his tension.
I want to know what he’s holding, and I want to know what has put that slap worthy sneer on Coral’s face, but at the same time, I really don’t. ‘What is it?’ The question I don’t want to ask just slips right out. But he doesn’t answer.
Coral does, though. ‘That is a scan picture of his baby.’
I know I stagger back, and I know he has turned to steady me, but everything is a blur. ‘Fucking hell.’ His worried voice is nothing but a drowned out rush of noise, and I know it’s because all of the blood is draining from my head. I feel dizzy. ‘Shit, Ava.’ My feet disappear from under me, but I don’t hit the floor. I’ve not passed out. I’ve been scooped up, and in a split second, I’m sitting on the couch with my head being pushed between my legs. ‘Breathe, baby. Just breathe.’ His palm is on my head, rubbing soothing, fast, anxious circles. ‘What the fuck are you playing at?’ he yells away from me. ‘You stupid fucking woman! I’ve not slept with you for months!’
‘Four months, and I’m four months gone.’ She answers quickly and proudly. ‘Do the math.’
I know that cunning face will be there, but I can’t look at her because I’ll want to dive right on her. I need to get my breathing under control because the rush is still whirring and the black is starting to set in. I’ll fall flat on my face if I stand.
‘You can’t be. Jesse snaps anxiously, sounding far too unsure. ‘Fuck!’
This is it. That baby will be born before either of mine and knowing Jesse’s desperation for a child, he’ll take the first one he can lay his hands on. He’ll leave me. I’ll be alone with two screaming babies and no help. My babies with me father-less. Who’s going to rub my feet when they’re swollen? Who’s going to love me in lace when I’m covered in stretch marks? Who’s going to make me eat when I’m not hungry and feed me folic acid and lick peanut butter from my breasts and paint my toenails when I can’t reach them? I start to choke on panic, but then my eyes fall onto the little piece of paper that Jesse has dropped to the floor in favour of tending to me. He didn’t look at that picture like he did of our babies’ picture. He didn’t drop to his knees or grab Coral to hug her. What it wrong with me? I feel like a mixed bag of over exaggerated emotions. I’m everywhere. I stoop and pick up the black and white scan picture. I’m being watched, by both of them, but I take my time, firstly noting Coral’s name. This is definitely hers. But what isn’t on this scan picture is a date. Neither is there an estimated gestation. I study the picture more closely.