Thicker Than Soup by Kathryn Joyce Read Free Book Online Page B

that as well as celebrating the restaurant, you and I had made up.” She stood shakily, flexing her shoulder. “Don’t worry; I’ll talk to him,” and added with more strength than she felt, “Look, I’ve got to get out there and give a hand. Can you come to my place tomorrow, around three? I could use a friend.”
    Diane nodded. “Yes, I’ll come. And you do look terrific – especially when you smile.”
    Grateful for the encouragement she returned to the dining room and with a glass of orange juice in her hand smiled at a wiry, bearded man who she recognised as Alex Manning.
    *
    Through the evening she excused John’s absences, explaining his food demanded him and that he would join them as soon as he could. When, eventually, she went to find him in the kitchen and he turned from her as if she’d ceased to exist she didn’t wait to see the unveiling of the picture or hear the speech he’d been practising all week. Quietly, she left the restaurant.

*
    The sofa wasn’t a comfortable bed and Sally was irritated when she woke at around four o’clock. John would have seen her when he arrived home – why didn’t he wake her? Then memory caught up. The empty bedroom confirmed his absence and the rest of the night filled with images of car crashes and accidents until daylight brought rationality and she guessed he was probably still at the restaurant, alone. At eight o’clock she called Seagrams but when the continuous ringing merely drummed the pounding ache in her head she replaced the receiver as nausea swept over her. Was this morning sickness, she wondered. If so, it had chosen a fine time to start. A slice of toast contracted her throat so she took tea to bed and prayed for sleep to blanket suffering, at least for a time.
    It was early afternoon when she woke to cold tea and a still silent house. She rang the restaurant again and was greeted warmly by someone she didn’t know. Echoes of conversation sounded in the earpiece as she waited.
    â€œHe’s er … busy just now. He said he’ll talk to you when he can.”
    Nursing the silent receiver until she became aware that her feet ached with cold she moved to the sofa. Talk when he can. When? What does he mean? With her feet curled under a coat she tried to unravel her mind. There’d been a baby once before. And it had been John’s baby. With a girlfriend, at art college. He’d left her – walked away from his own child. Had he been ill or had it made him ill? The knots became tighter. If, in January, she hadn’t… Diane was due to arrive in little more than an hour. It would be the first time since… Where did Diane’s loyalties lie? Her friend had worked with John during their rift and despite the pretence of indifference Sally admitted she’d been jealous. First and foremost, Diane had been
her
friend. The three of them – then four with Malik – had spent holidays and happy times together, and the friendship had deepened, but was Diane now the friend she’d once been? Sally’s thoughts returned to the previous evening and she assured herself that Diane had been genuine. Her heart warmed; the quarrel was over. It had to be, she decided, she needed her friend more than she had ever done.
    *
    â€œHe’ll come home, Sally. He has to.”
    Sally wasn’t comforted; Diane couldn’t know how wholeheartedly against fatherhood John was. Or how decisive he could be. “Hmmm, maybe to collect his things.”
    â€œWhen’s the baby due?”
    â€œI’m not … sure.” Sally’s hand moved across her stomach. “It’s not exactly planned; I was on the pill until a few weeks ago but I forgot some in January so I think it’s probably due in October.” She looked down, ashamed of the truth and wondering what she could tell Diane. “There’re a couple of problems.” She hated