Mum's Big Break Read online

  Also by Louise Emma Clarke

  From Mum with Love

  MUM’S BIG BREAK

  Louise Emma Clarke

  AN IMPRINT OF HEAD OF ZEUS

  www.ariafiction.com

  First published in the United Kingdom in 2020 by Aria, an imprint of Head of Zeus Ltd

  Copyright © Louise Emma Clarke, 2020

  The moral right of Louise Emma Clarke to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act of 1988.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

  ISBN 9781789541915

  Cover design © Charlotte Abrams-Simpson

  Aria

  c/o Head of Zeus

  First Floor East

  5–8 Hardwick Street

  London EC1R 4RG

  www.ariafiction.com

  Contents

  Welcome Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  Become an Aria Addict

  Dedicated to my grandad, who told me I would write a book one day

  ONE

  Followers – 93,350

  Weeks pregnant – 26

  Months pregnant – 5

  Awards – 1

  Free holidays – 1

  Dear Bella and Bump,

  I found out I was pregnant for the second time on Saturday 1st September 2018.

  Well, not exactly.

  It was probably Sunday 2nd September by the time I confessed how I was feeling to my friends and followed them reluctantly to the bathroom to wee on a pregnancy test. It was late, I was tired and I didn’t expect to see that second line appear quite so quickly.

  If I’m honest, I already suspected I was pregnant. But I hoped the test might break the news a little more gently. I expected to shout to the girls, ‘Umm, I’m not entirely sure actually? Can you come through and have a quick look?’ I expected that we’d have to hold the test up to the light and squint to try and spot a second line. I thought I’d be in limbo for a few days, re-testing, re-evaluating, recalculating – and during of all it, half-expecting it was all going to turn into nothing but a fuzzy dream.

  But as I stared down at that test, there was no doubt about it.

  The second line appeared in a flash.

  Bold and blue and determined.

  And that’s when I knew my second baby really was nestled somewhere deep beneath the silver sequins of my evening dress.

  As I sank to the floor with that test in my hands, everything started slotting into place. The nausea, the dizzy spells, the exhaustion.

  I was pregnant! It was obvious now.

  A few hours earlier, I’d been oblivious as I climbed onto a stage at a glitzy award ceremony in London to accept the award for ‘Parenting Blogger of the Year’. The fact I’d won was a big enough shock in itself, given I’d only started blogging six months earlier, and I knew that night would be etched on my memory forever. I thought it would be because I had heard a hush descend on the hall, followed by my name being called out as the winner – and then I was standing on that stage in front of everyone, with camera flashes blinding me. And because I had woken up to the competitiveness of blogging that night, when the praise wasn’t unanimous from my fellow nominees. It was a crazy, brilliant, terrifying, stressful and surprising night. And I was never going to forget a single moment of it.

  But sitting there on my friend’s bathroom floor just a few hours later, it all suddenly made sense. That heavy, gold award felt good in my hands, of course it did, but it didn’t cause fireworks to explode in the pit of my stomach in the same way that that piece of plastic did.

  It wasn’t even close.

  Because that was the moment my story as a mother started all over again.

  Right back to the very beginning.

  And I promise that I will tell you all about it.

  Love from Mummy x

  Finishing the letter, Jessica rested her pen and looked up from her sunbed. It was hot today – she guessed at least thirty degrees – and Chris and Bella were still splashing around in the pool. She smiled, watching them for a moment.

  This was their first family holiday since Bella was born nearly two years ago, and after a long, wet winter, the feeling of warm sunshine on her skin was very welcome indeed.

  Jessica sighed and shut the notebook, moving it to the table alongside her sunbed. She closed her eyes and allowed her mind to drift away, listening to the sound of the waves breaking on the shore behind her. This was the life.

  ‘Mrs Holmes?’

  Her eyes shot open.

  ‘Sorry to disturb you, Mrs Holmes. I trust that you were expecting me?’

  Jessica blinked up at the blonde lady stood over her sunbed and nodded. ‘Of course, yes, hi Annika,’ she said, pulling off her sunglasses.

  Annika was wearing a formal chocolate-brown skirt suit and thick black tights with heels. Jessica couldn’t help feeling immediately self-conscious in her swimsuit, reaching for the kaftan that was slung over the back of the sunbed to cover herself up.

  ‘I hope you are still enjoying your time at The Merrygold Hotel and Suites?’ Annika asked in an accent Jessica hadn’t quite managed to place, but she guessed was German or Scandinavian.

  ‘Oh yes,’ Jessica said, pulling the kaftan over her head and wiggling from side to side to ease it over her twenty-six-week bump. ‘It’s been great, apart from the toddler still suffering from jetlag, but we’re used to staying up most the night anyway so it’s nothing new…’ She laughed gently, trying to break the ice.

  Annika cocked her head to the left and curled the corner of her lip into a slight smile. After a pause, she said: ‘Would you like to follow me? We have a tour of the hospitality rooms scheduled for 10 a.m., don’t we? I hope it is still convenient?’

  Jessica did her best to keep the smile fixed on her face. ‘Oh sorry, yes silly me.’ She swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood up slowly, pausing to find her centre of gravity. ‘Should I change? Or am I OK in this? Sorry, I probably should’ve gone back to our room to get ready…’

  ‘No, that will be fine. We will start with the conference room. Just follow me and I’ll lead the way!’ As Annika strode away with her clipboard in her hand, Jessica threw her phone, notebook and pen into her canvas beach bag and slung it over her shoulder. She hurried to slide her flip-flops onto her feet, turning to Chris in the pool as she strode past.

  ‘Another tour!’ she mouthed, rolling her eyes. ‘I’d better go or I’ll lose her!’

  Chris rolled his eyes back and nodded, moving to the side of the pool. Pl
acing Bella on the side, he called after her, ‘So we’ll just wait here for you then? How long will you be this time?’

  Jessica turned back to him and shrugged, before disappearing inside the revolving doors to the hotel.

  Jessica knew that Chris was rapidly losing patience with the tours, the personal greetings, the cocktail parties and the endless introductions since they had arrived in Dubai, but what could she do? She had been offered this holiday in return for posts on her social media feed and they’d hadn’t paid a penny to be here, so she could hardly tell these people to go away and allow her to enjoy a quick snooze on her sunbed instead.

  Truthfully, she’d been a bit surprised by how much time had been demanded by the staff at the hotel, but it was too late now. She’d accepted the holiday and she had to do the work – even if that meant being dragged away from her sunbed to listen to a monologue about the interior design decisions behind an overwhelmingly brown conference hall.

  It was a few hours before she was able to say her goodbyes and scurry back to the pool, but when she arrived, Chris and Bella were nowhere to be seen. Looking down at her phone and realising it was now midday and Bella had probably been tired and grouchy, she made her way up to their room.

  Suite 3008.

  Floor 20.

  She’d never set eyes on a hotel suite before this holiday, let alone stayed in one, and when they first arrived and were shown to their room, it had taken them a good five minutes to explore, eyes wide with shock. There were two bedrooms, joined together by a large lounge. Wardrobes opened up to reveal storage space the size of small rooms just for their clothes and shoes. Everything inside the suite was perfectly matched in hues of dark wood and warm tones of caramel-brown, and vast, floor to ceiling windows showed off the view to its absolute best.

  From their balcony, they could see the whole of Jumeirah Beach stretched to the left and right of them. The white sand, the colour of the sea a perfect reflection of the cornflower-blue sky above, hotels dotted along the coast, the impressive Burj Al Arab hotel shaped like the sail of a boat to their right, and a big wheel that seemed to be sat on its very own island to their left.

  Looking directly down from their balcony to the hotel grounds, a series of pools stretched invitingly in front of their hotel.

  ‘Seven pools, to be exact,’ their concierge had informed them on that first night. ‘Three general pools that everyone can use, one saltwater pool, one shallow pool for children, one adult-only pool, one pool for swimming laps, and a swimmable canal that connects them all.’

  The biggest pool was directly below them, with the words ‘THE MERRYGOLD’ stamped on the bottom in large, black letters. And as swimmers disturbed the surface of the water, the letters shimmered and danced in the sunlight.

  It was, without doubt, the most impressive hotel that Jessica had set foot in.

  In fact, the room alone was so inviting that Jessica was quite tempted to spend the full week inside it, relying on room service and gawping at the views, but with a nearly-two-year-old in tow, that was never going to happen.

  Jessica made it back to the room and stood in front of the heavy mahogany door with 3008 monogrammed in gold letters, pulling her key card from the pocket of her bag to unlock it. As the light flickered green, she pushed the door as gently as possible.

  CLICK.

  ‘Sssshhh,’ Chris hissed, turning towards the door from his armchair. ‘Fuck’s sake, Jess, please don’t wake her!’

  ‘Seriously?’ Jessica whispered. ‘What was I supposed to do? Beam myself through the door?’

  Chris rolled his eyes.

  ‘You know,’ Jessica continued. ‘This hotel room is nearly as big as our house. She’s got her own room, Chris! You’re sat out here lording it up with your iPad and she’s fast asleep in her own room, with the door closed. How was I ever going to wake her?’

  ‘Lording it up with my iPad?’ Chris repeated slowly. ‘Good one. That’s obviously what I’ve been doing while you’ve been swanning around conference rooms for the last couple of hours…’

  ‘Oh whatever,’ Jessica said, shaking her head. ‘Anyway, what have you been doing while I’ve been gone? Has she been OK?’

  ‘No,’ Chris said. ‘She’s been a bit of a bloody nightmare actually. She was tired and hungry, and she wanted Mummy as soon as you disappeared. We waited for as long as we could, as I thought it would be nice to have lunch together, but I needed to give her something to eat in the end. Not that she enjoyed the chips I ordered her… Most of them ended up on the bloody floor, so she’s probably gone to bed hungry.’

  ‘That isn’t my fault, Chris!’ Jessica said, her mouth dropping open in shock. ‘I got away as soon as I could!’

  ‘You didn’t tell me you were going to disappear for most of the morning!’ Chris snapped back, the volume of their argument steadily increasing. ‘And you didn’t mention that would be the case every bloody morning of this holiday! Because if you had, I probably would’ve told you it was a shit idea and suggested we holiday in Greenwich instead!’

  Jessica walked over to him and looked down. Their eyes met, each daring the other to spit the next line. But just as she was about to reply, Jessica burst into tears.

  ‘This is shit,’ she sobbed, taking a step backwards to sit down in the armchair opposite him. She sniffed and wiped her face with the back of her hand. ‘I agreed to come on this holiday as I thought we all needed a break, but it’s been fucking pointless.’

  Chris sighed and stood up, taking the few steps towards her and pulling her into a hug. ‘Sorry honey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean… Sorry.’

  ‘It’s not your fault,’ Jessica replied, a single tear rolling down her cheek. ‘This is crap for you! You’re looking after a toddler the whole day while I have to tour bloody conference rooms, or walk round the kitchen of the restaurant that is going to cook us dinner that night, or sit opposite a hotel manager in his stuffy office while he bleats on about what a brilliant job he’s doing! It’s not a bloody holiday! It’s bloody hard work!’

  ‘Well, judging by the size of this room, they’re making you work the room rate.’

  ‘I’d happily take a tiny room with just enough to room to squeeze a bed and a cot, if it meant I could have a few hours by the pool with my family.’

  The two of them sat in silence for a moment, their heads turned towards the window as they watched waves rolling in the distance.

  ‘I knew there were going to be strings attached,’ Jessica continued, not taking her eyes away from the bright blueness of the Arabian Gulf. ‘I mean, who offers a blogger a holiday to Dubai, clearly worth thousands of pounds, without wanting something in return? But I didn’t think they’d make me work quite so hard for it.’

  ‘It’s not exactly been relaxing,’ Chris added. ‘For either of us. Although I’m not sure a pool holiday could ever be relaxing with a toddler intent on throwing herself in the pool every waking moment. I’ve had far more relaxing days at work.’

  Jessica laughed as she sniffed. ‘Oh, bloody hell, what a disaster! And do you know the thing that pisses me off the most?’

  Chris shook his head.

  ‘It’s the fact you’ve used up five days of annual leave to be here! Those days are so precious now and we’ve wasted them.’

  ‘Well, we were both craving some sunshine… Maybe we’ll be surprised when we get home and realise it’s done us both some good?’

  Jessica raised an eyebrow. ‘Nice try, but I think this holiday is going down in history as the least relaxing holiday we’ve ever been on. We’ll probably laugh about it eventually.’

  Chris cleared his throat and turned to her. ‘So next time what’s-her-name…’

  ‘Annika?’

  ‘Next time Annika disturbs you on your sunbed, why not tell her it’s not a convenient time? Why not start calling the shots?’

  Jessica shivered – and she wasn’t sure if it was down to the chill of the air-conditioning or the thought of having to stand up for
herself.

  ‘I mean, what would Tiggy do in this situation?’

  Jessica’s head snapped round. ‘Oh, don’t bring her into it!’

  ‘I know you don’t want to think about her, honey,’ Chris replied. ‘But she’s a good example, because I don’t think she’d stand for this shit.’

  Jessica slowly blew out a breath to try and calm herself. She didn’t want to give Tiggy a moment’s thought. She didn’t want to picture her face. She didn’t want to imagine her on holiday. She didn’t want to say her name. And she most certainly didn’t want Chris to imply that she would handle this whole free-holiday-situation with far more professionalism than her nemesis would.

  ‘I’m having a nap,’ she said, standing up. She walked over to the master-bedroom door of their suite, simultaneously rubbing her bump and biting her tongue. ‘Wake me up when Bella wakes.’

  ‘What about lunch?’ Chris asked.

  ‘I’ll have something when I wake up,’ Jessica shot back, feeling the tiredness drag at her eyelids.

  She shut the door and lay down on the bed, appreciating the coolness of the crisp, expensive bed linen against the soles of her tired feet. Lying flat on her back, she could feel the baby start to kick in her tummy, just the gentlest pops at this stage of pregnancy, but reassuring, nevertheless.

  ‘Hello, little one,’ she said, placing her hand over the lowest part of her tummy. A few kicks later, she turned onto her left side and drifted quickly into a deep sleep.

  Jessica had made a conscious effort not to think about Tiggy Blenheim recently, fully aware that just a fleeting mention of her name would send her blood pressure rising. It had been five months since the two bloggers came head-to-head in the toilets at the blog award ceremony, Jessica clutching her award in her hand and Tiggy struggling with the humiliation of losing. The words spat during that argument had knocked Jessica’s confidence in the weeks and months that followed, and whenever she caught a glimpse of that heavy, gold award (displayed upstairs on her dressing table ever since that night, in fear of Bella doing some serious damage with it) she found herself wishing it hadn’t been her name called out as the winner at all.