Mum's Big Break Read online

  As Jessica heard the shower beep and start drumming onto the marble bathroom floor, she stood up to gather together towels, swimsuits and beach toys from various corners of the suite.

  She was starting to feel more confident about her new game plan; if Annika approached, she was going to take a deep breath, smile and tell her that she wasn’t budging an inch.

  This was their holiday – and she was going to enjoy every last thirty-degrees-Celsius drop of it.

  *

  ‘So, do you think you’ll take Wendy’s advice and contact an agent?’ Chris asked between mouthfuls of risotto.

  Next to him, Bella was tucking into her third bowl of ice cream with rainbow-coloured sprinkles, and beyond their table, the sun was starting to set over the pool in shades of deep purple, crimson, and candy-pink. They could hear the call of prayer from a nearby mosque faintly in the background, accompanied by quiet chatter and the clatter of knives and forks at nearby tables.

  Jessica leant over the table to sip her lime cooler from a long, florescent pink straw and shrugged her shoulders. ‘I don’t know,’ she replied. ‘But it seems like a good idea. What do you think?’

  Chris put his fork down and leant back in his chair. ‘The way I see it is that you have two options.’

  Jessica nodded, inviting him to continue.

  ‘The first is that you stop blogging completely. Just rule a line under it and make the decision that it isn’t for you. If it makes you feel self-conscious and you hate the competitiveness of it all, and you don’t want to spend all your holidays working, or all your time at home working with brands, or attending the events where you come face to face with other bloggers, you could just stop.’

  Jessica flinched and without even realising it, shook her head in response. ‘And what’s the other option?’

  ‘You embrace it,’ Chris replied, raising his eyebrows. ‘You take it to the next level, make it a career and get some payback for all your hard work.’

  Jessica sighed and looked down at her plate. The steak was cooked completely through and as she sliced through, she couldn’t help wishing it was medium-rare and accompanied by a big glass of red wine.

  Next to her, Bella had finished her ice-cream and was yelling ‘MORE! MORE! MORE!’, bashing her spoon noisily against the porcelain.

  ‘No Bella, I think that’s enough,’ Chris said, taking her bowl. ‘How about some rice? Do you want to share with Daddy?’

  After spooning risotto onto a side-plate and handing Bella a clean spoon, he turned back to Jessica. ‘So? What are you thinking?’

  ‘That I need a giant glass of red wine!’ Jessica said, exhaling loudly.

  ‘What?! You don’t even drink red wine!’ Chris replied, his face contorted into an amused frown.

  ‘What can I say? Pregnancy does strange things to me. If I was allowed, I’d drink that whole bottle.’ She licked her lips, imagining the taste.

  ‘Steak and red wine? Jesus honey, maybe it’s a boy this time and he’s going to take after his daddy!’

  ‘Can you imagine if I had two of you to look after?’ she said with wide eyes.

  ‘Well, that’s charming!’ Chris laughed. ‘But come on, what are you really thinking? Are we going to have to get used to exotic holidays – or are you going to sack it all in?’

  Jessica glanced at her daughter and then her husband. ‘As much as I have a love/hate relationship with blogging, I feel like I’ll be throwing everything away if I stop now. I think I’m going to start accepting a few collaborations when we get home and just see what happens… Play it by ear, I suppose.’

  Chris smiled. ‘Well, if it means anything, Mrs Holmes, I think that’s the right decision.’

  ‘Really?’ Jessica snapped back quickly.

  ‘Yes, why are you surprised? I’m your biggest cheerleader, Jess; you know that!’

  Jessica shook her head and laughed gently. ‘Oh I know that, but we haven’t exactly had the lazy, carefree break we were hoping for – and I was convinced you’d put your foot down if I suggested a repeat performance.’

  ‘A repeat performance here in Dubai?’ he asked. ‘I mean, I quite like it here, but I probably wouldn’t choose…’

  ‘No, I didn’t mean Dubai specifically,’ Jessica interrupted. ‘I meant blogger holidays in general. I meant anywhere really. The next business card that gets thrust into my hands or email I receive promising all kinds of luxury. Because let’s be honest, a free holiday sounds amazing, but in reality, they’re a bit shit, aren’t they?’

  ‘Well, it’s not been the holiday I was expecting when we boarded the plane at Heathrow,’ Chris replied, ‘but I don’t think it’s been totally shit either.’

  ‘GET DOWN! GET DOWN NOW!’ Bella shouted, flailing her arms around in the hope of being released. Jessica stood up and lifted her out of her highchair, releasing a confetti of risotto rice all over the table in the process. Sitting down with Bella on the edge of her lap, she rested her head in her daughter’s hair for a moment and breathed in the heady, happy combination of baby shampoo and sun lotion. Jessica wished she could bottle that smell. It was perfection.

  ‘You’re right,’ she continued finally. ‘We have got some amazing memories to take home. I will never forget the smile on Bella’s face when she first splashed in that pool or the look of horror when she came face to face with a camel and was lifted into the saddle to join you!’

  ‘That all seems like a very long time ago now. It was our first morning, wasn’t it?’ Chris asked, smiling at the memory.

  Jessica nodded. ‘Yes, just after we arrived – and just minutes before I was pulled away by Annika to the office of General Manager Mr Mohammed Adam Sajidd’s to hear about the four-year process of laying the hotel’s foundations and raising it from the grounds.’

  ‘I hope you remembered every word so you could relay it to your followers?’ Chris laughed. ‘We must remember to show your mum that photo of Bella on the camel when we’re home. It will further confirm her theory that we are camping like nomads in the desert.’

  ‘Oh yes, bless her,’ Jessica replied, giggling. ‘Do you think I can find any camel milk anywhere? I might take some back for her coffee.’

  ‘That is inspired!’ he said, eyes wide. He mouthed ‘sorry’, before picking up his wine glass and taking a sip. ‘Listen Jess, it hasn’t been shit, definitely not. But you’ve had to work a lot too. And for that reason alone, I think getting an agent to speak on your behalf could be a good move.’

  ‘But how does it work, do you think?’ she asked, leaning forward. With less room to wiggle, Bella squirmed to get down, and when released, wandered around the table to Chris. Jessica appreciated that her bump had stolen most of Bella’s lap space in recent weeks, but she knew that wasn’t the only reason she wanted her daddy. Bella had grown very close to Chris with all the time they’d spent together and whilst Jessica felt a bit jealous of their close holiday bond, she was thankful they’d had the time together too. Chris worked long hours in London and didn’t see Bella anywhere near as much as he liked.

  ‘In terms of money?’ Chris asked, lifting Bella to his lap. He immediately started running his fingers through the loose curls of her brunette hair.

  ‘Well yes, I guess so,’ she replied.

  ‘I don’t know what the percentage usually is with blogging, but they’ll take a cut of the fee for every job you get,’ Chris explained. ‘Maybe 20 per cent or 30 per cent, I don’t know.’

  ‘So why bother?’ Jessica asked. ‘Because they’ll get me such amazing partnerships with companies that it’ll all be worth it?’

  ‘That must be the idea,’ Chris replied. ‘And there must be something in it if all the top blogging glitterati like Wendy and Tiggy have one.’

  Jessica flinched. That name again.

  As a waitress cleared their table, attempting to wipe up the escaped risotto rice and getting increasingly frustrated as it jumped from her cloth, the three of them stared out at the pool. The sun had compl
etely disappeared now. Bright lights in the pool illuminated ripples on the surface of the water in the gentle evening breeze. Palm trees were wrapped in strings of fairy lights, while lanterns lined the path to the beach, their flames dancing in the night sky. The tables around them were quiet now and the chatter of cicadas waking from their daytime slumber was getting progressively louder.

  The temperature was slightly cooler at night, but not cool enough to demand a jumper or cardigan. Back in London, winter was still in full force in February and Jessica knew it would be a long time before she could pull out her summer clothes again. The feeling of warmth on her skin was something she wanted to remember, as was the perfume of the jasmine flowers alongside the restaurant that seemed to get stronger every evening.

  ‘We are lucky, aren’t we?’ Jessica said, as the waitress walked away from the table with stacks of plates in her hands.

  ‘I think so,’ Chris replied, not moving his eyes away from the shimmering water of the pool.

  ‘I mean, it’s been a bit of a whirlwind since I started this blog, but if you’d told me back then that we’d be sent on a free holiday to Dubai less than a year after I started writing it, I would never have believed you.’

  ‘Wonder where we’ll be going next?’ Chris said, turning to wink at her.

  She laughed. ‘Well, wherever we go, I just have just one condition…’

  ‘Oh?’ Chris asked.

  ‘Annika is not bloody coming with us.’

  ‘Deal,’ Chris replied, laughing. ‘You’ve got yourself a deal.’

  THREE

  Followers – 94,372

  Weeks pregnant – 27

  Months pregnant – 6

  Awards – 1

  Free holidays – 1

  Dear Bella and Bump,

  Whoever coined the phrase ‘Morning Sickness’ needs to be lined up against a wall and shot. My guess is that it was a man.

  Maybe I’m some kind of pregnancy anomaly – although extensive research amongst my friends suggests otherwise – but the sickness in the early part of both my pregnancies has lasted from the moment I opened my eyes in the morning, to pretty much the moment I shut them again at night.

  Things that made me feel sick include: the smell of cooking meat, the sight of raw meat, looking at a television screen, looking at a laptop screen, looking at a phone screen, the smell of Daddy’s aftershave, the smell of Daddy’s shower gel; the smell of Daddy’s socks at the end of the day, the sound of somebody with a chesty cough, the smell of dirty nappies, the sight of dirty nappies, the thought of dirty nappies, sunshine hitting my retinas, lightbulbs hitting my retinas, the smell of the perfume hall in department stores, having to wake up in the middle of the night to a toddler demanding a lost dummy, having to wake up in the middle of the night to wee, the taste of room temperature water, and generally just breathing. These are just some of the things, but definitely not all of the things that caused me to spend a great deal of those first trimesters bent over the toilet. And while I was there, I could never resist a good critique of my own cleaning skills, which inevitably ended in me throwing up again when I noticed a spot that needed a good bleach.

  And the rest of the time? I tried my very best to be a good mother. Usually horizontally.

  Motherhood paused for a while during those first few months. I just had to hold my breath (quite literally sometimes, seeing as it made me want to hurl) and you just had to be patient, Bella. You weren’t always, of course, as you were eighteen months old and filled with rage that your mother couldn’t (or maybe wouldn’t) get off the bloody sofa to cook burgers at your pretend kitchen – but generally, you were amazing. We got through it together.

  And while we’re on the subject of vomit, it ended up having a lot to do with how I told Daddy the news too. I was still on the sofa downstairs when I heard you wake the next morning, Bella, so I ran up to get you. I hadn’t slept much at all and the sleep I did manage to get had been very restless. So much had happened the night before. An award win, a pregnancy test, a positive result and a growing realisation that life was changing. I felt a bit like a rug had been pulled out from underneath our world. When I heard you cry out for me, I knew that seeing you would ground me. Life would return to normal, just for a moment at least.

  Daddy opened his eyes as we bundled into the bedroom together. We piled into the bed and stole the pillows and duvet from his sleepy, hungover body. He kissed you and then turned to me and said, ‘Well done, award winner!’ as he leant over to kiss me too. But I pulled away, worried he’d taste remnants of my last vomit on my lips – and who wants to taste that first thing in the morning? He moved back and looked at me with surprise. ‘Did I do something wrong, honey?’ And I replied: ‘Well, no… Not really… Probably something quite amazing actually.’ He raised his eyebrows in confusion, and that was the moment I couldn’t resist blurting it out: ‘I’m pregnant again… I did a test with the girls last night. I wanted to tell you when I got home, but you were fast asleep…’ And then I stopped and looked at him. His eyes were wide with shock, but suddenly his face changed. His mouth broke into a giant smile and he laughed, deeply, genuinely, happily. He pulled me close and kissed me smack on my vomit-splattered lips.

  And just like that, the world turned on its axis and started spinning the right way again.

  Everything was going to be OK.

  Love Mummy x

  ‘Are you sure you went on holiday, Jess?’ Mel asked, raising her eyebrows. ‘Because it looks like you haven’t looked at the sun since last summer…’

  Jessica rolled her eyes and laughed. Her skin didn’t tan at the best of times, but when she’d spent the week touring kitchens and shaking hands with managers, it made it even harder to return with the ‘Dubai glow’ her friends were expecting.

  ‘You should see Chris,’ Jessica replied. ‘It’s disgusting. He could do an hour pulling up the weeds in the garden and he’d look like he’d been sailing around the Caribbean for a month.’

  ‘Bloody annoying isn’t it, babe! It’s exactly the same as me and Dan.’ Henny laughed. ‘Hey, here’s an idea. We should all go on holiday together and we can chill out in the shade with some cocktails!’

  ‘Some of us are born with it, girls,’ Deena said, shaking her bottom as she stood up to pour a fresh cup of coffee from the rose-gold cafetiere on the kitchen bench. ‘But I’m liking the sound of the holiday together. When can we get that sorted?’

  Mel snorted and stroked her thirty-five-week pregnant bump. ‘Probably at some point in 2050. Put it in your diary.’

  Jessica smiled. She couldn’t believe how big Mel’s bump had grown in just a few weeks. Suddenly a newborn baby joining their little group seemed very imminent. ‘How is everything?’ she asked. ‘Still happy with how it’s all going with Aggie?’

  ‘It’s great,’ Mel said, lowering her voice. ‘I know I was really stubborn about hiring a nanny through Fibsons, but it’s because I knew how well they train them. She’s really good with the discipline – not unkind, but cracking a few bad habits I’ve let Lara slip into. It’s my own fault, I’ve let that little girl run rings around me since Steven left as I just haven’t had the energy to put up a fight.’

  Jessica, Henny, Deena and Mel were all chatting on the sofas in the kitchen, as Aggie kept an eye on the four toddlers in the lounge. It was Tuesday, and while the four friends had decided to stop attending their weekly music class in the church hall, they still had stuck to their weekly ritual to gather together at Mel’s house.

  ‘Well, it feels pretty lazy having her here to watch the four of them while we chat,’ Jessica admitted, taking a sip of peppermint tea from the heavy mug in her hands. ‘But I could get used to it. Can you lend her to me every now and again? I could do with a bit of tough love at my house too…’

  ‘Fuck no, I’m not letting her out of my sight,’ Mel laughed. ‘I’ve got to be honest, I feel a bit lazy too sometimes, but it’s a big relief to have someone here to help. I was starting to
worry we wouldn’t find someone in time.’

  ‘So what’s the plan?’ Jessica quipped back. ‘When, you know, the baby is on its way? Are you sure you don’t want one of us to dash around to look after Lara? It might take a weight off your mind, knowing we’re here?’

  Mel flinched. Only slightly, but enough for the girls to notice. ‘No, no. I have Aggie now. It’ll be fine,’ she replied, looking down at her mug. ‘Do you know what? I’m just going to check whether everything is OK in the lounge.’

  ‘I’ll go, girl,’ Deena said quickly, jumping up. ‘You sit down!’

  ‘No,’ Mel said, heaving herself up from the sofa. ‘I don’t want her to think I’m taking the piss.’

  She shuffled away, heading back through the wide double doors to the kitchen, along the black and white carpet runner that ran along the wooden floors of the corridor, and into the large, bright lounge at the front of the house.

  Left on their own, the girls exchanged worried looks.

  ‘She still doesn’t want to talk about the baby?’ Jessica asked, her voice a low whisper.

  Henny and Deena shook their heads.

  ‘Fuck!’ Jessica mouthed.

  They nodded in reply.

  Mel had employed Aggie a month ago, after an exhaustive hunt for the perfect nanny. As a newly single mother of a young toddler, things were already tough at home, but knowing a baby would soon be joining them meant there was a deadline to employ somebody quickly.

  Over the past six months, Mel had interviewed no less than eight nannies, but there was always something that stopped her from offering the job. One lady seemed perfect, but then broke the news that she couldn’t live with Mel for certain days of the month as her stepchildren would be visiting. Mel didn’t need her life to be any more of a jigsaw puzzle than it already was, so regretfully declined. Another came with glowing recommendations, but admitted during the interview that being a nanny was just a stop-gap before getting a big break as an actress. Another came with decades of experience under her belt, but informed Mel during the interview that she had a firm rule of absolutely no screen-time in the house while she was caring for children, which applied to the adults too. Mel clutched her mobile phone a little tighter in her grasp and breathed a sigh of relief when she’d walked out the front door ten minutes later.