Babyville Page 0,82

me thoughtfully. “Seriously, Maeve. You've really changed since you became pregnant.”

I snort. “Because you knew me so well before.”

“I didn't have to. I only had to look at you to see how hard you were. You're much softer. More vulnerable. If you pushed me I might say you're a much nicer person.”

“Uh-oh.” I make a face, turning back to the magazine and flicking. “I'm not sure that's such a good thing. No one's frightened of me at work anymore.”

And although the fact that I don't seem to wield the same power at work bothers me ever so slightly, secretly I like what Mark has just said. I like the way he makes me feel.

Secretly I'm very, very pleased.

18

The secret's out.

Admittedly at six months it's pretty bloody difficult to hide a pregnancy, and now everyone says that they'd suspected for ages but didn't want to say anything in case I'd just put on weight.

Although all the mothers said they knew.

“Yeah, yeah,” said Mike Jones wearily when I went up to his office to tell him. This time for real. “So tell me something else I didn't know.”

“How did you know?” He was the first person I'd told, but I was still shocked.

“You've been shouting at people and bursting into tears for no apparent reason. Half the time you walk around looking as if you're in a dream world, and you're eating like a pig but the only place you're putting on weight is your stomach and your . . .” He grins and shrugs. “I'd have to be a fucking idiot not to realize, especially when you'd already told me.”

“So my joke didn't fool you?”

“Nothing gets by me. So now there are two major questions, the first being what are you going to do?”

“As in, am I going to stay?”

He nods.

“Mike, I love this job. I love everything about London Daytime Television, and I still remember everything you said at my interview about the sky being the limit. I never wanted to get pregnant. I never wanted to have a baby, but, now I am, I think it's going to be fine. I'm not mother-material, though, and the last thing on earth I want is to leave my job.” Mike nods approvingly. I carry on. “I have a fantastic support system and of course I'll need to take three months' maternity leave, but that's it. You have my word that I'll be back here to pick up exactly where I left off.”

“Temper tantrums and tears?”

“Um, no. That's just hormonal hell. You'll have the old Maeve back after the baby, and I'll make sure Loved Up gets six million.”

“Six million? That's impressive. Are you sure?”

“Yes. I'm sure.”

“That still leaves me with the problem of what to do when you're away for three months.”

“You haven't got a problem. Stella Lord. She's your answer.”

He looks at me, interested.

“Stella works harder than anyone else, she's brighter than anyone else, and she's more ambitious than anyone else. It's about time she was given a chance to prove herself.”

“And you're not threatened? What if she's so good that we don't want you back?”

“Luckily I'm not that insecure.”

If only that were true.

But Stella is the only person I trust to take over while I'm away. She's the only person who will ensure we get those ratings. I could get six million viewers with Stella in the hot seat. I could trust that she would make the same decisions as me.

“I think you've got a point. Ask Stella to come up and see me this afternoon. I'll see how she feels about it.”

“She'll be over the moon.”

“I'm sure. So, now it's time for the second question.” Uh-oh. I know what's coming. “A little bird tells me that rumors have been flying about you and Mark Simpson. Who's the father?”

“Could I tell you to fuck off and that it's none of your business?”

“No. I'd fire you.”

“Okay. Mark Simpson is the father.”

His mouth falls open. “Fuck me. You're joking!” There is genuine shock on his face.

“What? You already said the rumors had been flying. Don't look so surprised.”

“I was joking. I was joking about the rumors. I've just seen you having a drink in the bar with him a couple of times. Fuck.” He shakes his head in disbelief. “I wouldn't have thought he'd be your type.”

I don't bother telling him Mark's not my type. That we've come to an arrangement. It's too complicated to explain, and frankly it's just easier for people at work to assume we're together for now.