“Interesting. It is the Queen’s visit rehearsal next Saturday, Bridget. I understand you are planning to be there?”
“You mean we should tell them there?” I said, horrified.
“Separately, privately, of course.”
“You can’t tell I’m pregnant yet, can you? I can’t go if everyone in the village is going to notice.”
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There was a slight pause, then they said:
“No.”
“Nope.”
“Can’t tell at all.”
“I seriously think the baby’s going to come out flat, Jones.”
EIGHT
FAMILY VALUES
SATURDAY 28 OCTOBER
Grafton Underwood: Queen’s visit rehearsal. “Family values!” Mark’s father, Admiral Darcy, was bellowing into the microphone.
The entire village was assembled, together with the Lord Mayor, and representatives from the Palace, who were checking out the scene.
“Family Values and Village Life shall be our theme,” the Admiral thundered on, “as, for the first time in her thousand-year history, the Ethelred Stone, and its gracious vestibule, the village of Grafton Underwood, welcomes a reigning monarch to our strawy rooftops!”
“Strawy rooftops!” said Uncle Geoffrey, way too loudly. “Is he on the sauce already?”
I glanced at Mark, on the other side of the group, who was trying not to laugh. We had arrived in Mark’s car, driven by his driver, but I’d jumped out first, round the corner from Mum’s house, so we could appear to arrive separately. We didn’t want to set everyone off just yet.
“And today,” Admiral Darcy went on, “we are honoured to have with us the Clerk to the Northamptonshire Lieutenancy here to approve our plans for the visit of Her Majesty, and guide us in our protocol for the Reception Committee, and for the seating plan.”
“Admiral.” Mavis Enderbury raised her hand. “Can I just ejaculate for a moment over the luncheon.”
“She just means she wants to sit next to the bloody Queen,” Mum hissed to Una.
—
As the speech ended and everyone started to disperse, Mum turned and spotted me. Her eyes went straight to my boobs and bump.
“Bridget,” she said. “Are you preggy?”
Gaaah! Was it that obvious already? But Mark, Daniel, Tom, Miranda and Shazzer all said you couldn’t tell.
“She is, she’s preggy, Pam!” said Una.
Everyone was staring.
“Do you have to say ‘preggy’?” I said, queasily.
“Oh Bridget!” said Mum, delighted. “Oh, what perfect timing!” She suddenly looked coy. “Is it Mark’s? He’s here, you know. We were all just saying, now that he’s got divorced from that frightful intellectual woman, maybe you two had seen sense at last. Do you remember how you used to play with him in the paddling pool? Bridget, is it Mark’s?”
“Maybe. I mean, there’s at least a fifty per cent chance.”