The food baby

There was something strange going on in Chloe' s tummy. Was she pregnant, or had she just eaten too many spuds?

In my parents' dining room, I grimaced and pressed a hand on to there.my stomach, sure something had moved down

Mum, sitting across the table, frowned over the top of her spoon, where a lump of Eve' s pudding dripped custard.

`Are you all right, Chloe?' Yes, I' m fine. Thanks.'

`As I was saying,' she went on while Dad and my boyfriend chewed on their own desserts. When you two move in together, Joe, you can take the bed from our spare room and the wingback sofa too. We' re going to redo the colour scheme and buy something new.'

Joe smiled. That would be great. Thanks.'

It would help,' I agreed. We can hardly pilfer the stuff from our two house-shares

the landlords might complain.'

We' ll need to work out the best way to move everything, Joe,' Dad said. I don' t want to take any paint off, lugging things down the stairs.'

Sounds like a plan.' Joe chased the last of his pudding round his dish, corralled it, then swept it

Mum, you're a great cook, I said, then felt at my belly again. It did look bigger than usual

into his mouth.

Dinner tasted fabulous as always, Ann,' he said, after he swallowed it down. I love your family meals.'

Yeah, Mum, you' re a great cook,' I said, then winced and felt at my belly again.

It did look bigger than usual. I was definitely skinnier the day I met Joe as I' d sheltered in a newsagents from a thunderstorm.

It' s bucketing it down,' he said.

Yes, and now it sounds like they' ve chucked the bucket at us as well,' I' d quipped as thunder clapped.

Some men don' t find women funny, but Joe found me instantly hilarious. We' d moved swiftly on to exchanging details on our mobiles. After that, I suggested a trip to

the cinema. If the conversation lagged, we could watch the movie. Only, when it came to it, we nattered on so much the couple behind us told us off.

Go form a debating society,' the man said, instead of Go get a room.'

We left instead, visited a pub and talked until closing time. We covered the lot politics, the best locallybrewed beers, even football.

I discovered Joe came from a chaotic, complicated family. His parents were teenage lovers, the story went, too immature to cope. He' d spent his first six years in children' s homes, before his aunt came to the rescue. I suppose that' s why he loved my mum and dad and family meals so much.

◆ ◆ ◆ ◆ ◆

Do you need the toilet, Chloe?' Mum asked at the table now as I wriggled about.

I' m fine.'

Good. You can help me load the dishwasher while your dad shows Joe the bed and the sofa.'

Mum has rules when it comes to plates, dishes and cutlery. They have to line up with military precision in her machine. That' s not right.' She moved a plate, then took a fork right out of my fingers. I winced and felt at my stomach.

What is going on with you?' she asked.

I pulled down the waistband of my jeans and yanked up my jumper, so I could show off the source of the problem. I don' t normally do things like that which might be why she abandoned her stacking and took a step back.

What the heck are you doing?'

Does this look normal to you?'

She peered at my belly button as I breathed all the way out.

I can feel something moving. It' s weird.'

Mum stared harder at my paunch as if she was sure an alien would punch through my skin and attach itself to her face.

Are you¼?'

No, definitely not. My monthly visitor is right on time and I never forget a single pill. Maybe I have a tapeworm?'

Oh lovely, what are you going to call it? Your auntie Clare does suffer from horrible bloating, you know. She' s always skinny again in the morning.'

I do not bloat.'

She hummed. It' s a spud baby then. You did just eat a mountain of roast potatoes. You' re normally such a nibbler too. Will you put your belly away now, please?'

I tucked myself in as she added: I take it you' ve had the conversationº with Joe regardless?'

Er¼ no.'

But you two talk about everything. How could you miss out the subject of having children?'

Because things were going so well,' I said. And it' s always a deal breaker. What if we don' t agree? What if we have to split up?'

Maybe that' s it then, you' re having one of those psychological responses to stress. You' re moving in together while some things are still unresolved. They say your gut' s very closely related to your brain. Yours is telling you that you shouldn' t take the sofa or the bed before you' ve had a proper talk.'

I moved both hands across my bulge.

You mean it' s like some kind of phantom debate inside me?'

She hummed again. Yes, it' s likely a lot of hot air. Either way, you can' t go on like this. You need to deal with it before you expand so much Joe can' t wedge through the door of your new terrace. He' ll have to stick a pin in you, then stand well back.'

She giggled. Joe always says I might get my sense of humour from her.

I knew I didn' t have any form of morning sickness, but I did feel queasy round about then.

I don' t feel good about this,' I muttered. Maybe I could send him a text, email or a DM?'

She pointed towards the hall. You' ll always have big decisions to make so you might as well get used to it. Now go!'

We' ll take her legs off first,' I heard, as I reached the landing. I hoped Dad meant the sofa or the bed and wasn' t plotting the disposal of a body.

It's a spud baby. You did just eat a mountain of roast potatoes. You're normally a nibbler too

◆ ◆ ◆ ◆◆

I sidled into the room, thinking I could squeeze between Dad and Joe, only my stomach got stuck. I turned bright red after nudging both of them aside, like a disgruntled hippo.

Mum needs you, Dad, the dishwasher' s playing up,' I lied.

Oh right, I' ll go and fix it for her.'

He sounded pleased. He should have been.

Normally

Mum' s the one checking fuses and taking the

backs off things. With him gone, I put my arms about Joe and hung on tight.

I can' t breathe,' he wheezed after a moment.

I relaxed my grip, my stomach churning. When is the right time to have this chat two months in or six? Three seconds after I watched the rain drip down his nose after he entered the newsagents?

Joe met kids all the time, as friends tended to pop in to his house-share or mine.

He' d happily engage with any little moppet and accept an invite to an invisible tea party. Sometimes he' d turn a toddler into an aeroplane. He' d fly them round the room with their arms outstretched as they buzzed like engines. He might well crave a herd of little ones to make up for his lost childhood¼ or maybe he simply enjoyed handing them back, afraid he' d fail the way his parents had. I really wished I' d asked.

`Are you all right?' he frowned in the bedroom.

You' ve seemed a bit offcolour all night¼'

I glanced down to my bulge. Was it getting bigger, as my nerves took over?

Er¼ we need to have a little talk before we can adopt the bed and the sofa,' I began. I know we talked about getting married and we fantasised about having a honeymoon like my mum and dad in Antigua.'

The room began to spin and I plonked myself down on to the sofa. Maybe it' d be simpler to blurt it all out?

I know your life as a boy was a mess. That' s likely why I' m suffering from phantom¼ bulges¼ because we haven' t talked about how we feel about kids yet.'

He tilted his head, his mouth moving like a fish:

Oh¼ er¼ oh¼' He started wringing his hands together. You go on first, then. You say what you¼ er¼ think¼ er¼ kids-wise

I' d never heard him stutter before. ◆ ◆ ◆ ◆ ◆

Maybe, maybe, we ought to say it together,' I suggested. You know to¼ to¼ to¼'

His stuttering had spread like the flu. To get it over with, in case we disagree?'

OK,' he said. On the count of three we' ll say what we think.'

Good idea. I love you, by the way.'

I love you, too.' He swallowed hard. One¼ two¼ three¼'

I laughed when we walked down the stairs hand in hand minutes later

We' d turned all giggly and loved-up, all eye-contact, and flushed cheeks.

It' s fine,' I said. It' s great, in fact.'

I towed Joe into the kitchen where Mum and Dad waited. Mum had definitely told Dad everything judging by his smile.

We decided to say what we wanted kids-wise at the same moment,' I explained. I said two or three kids and Joe said one or two. We both agree we don' t want any for at least five years. You see, we' re just about perfect.'

Joe kissed the hand he held, while Mum thrust a box into my free one.

Go do a test,' she said.

Though Joe knew all about my everexpanding belly, he gawped. So did I.

Mum, I am not pregnant. I told you, it' s impossible.' I frowned. And what do you have a pregnancy test kit in the house for anyway? Have you been stockpiling? That' s a bit weird, isn' t it, unless¼?'

She gave Dad a knowing look, which is when I finally cottoned on.

Had I obsessed over the wrong belly all evening? I stared at hers extra hard.

She' s isn' t past it baby-wise, but she' s very close to the edge. Honestly, I still looked more preggers than she did. Mum, you' re not?'

Chloe, I am,' she admitted. It wasn' t planned. I did two tests to check. You have the third. We were going to tell you in another month or so, but now seems as good a time as any.'

What do you mean, it wasn' t planned?'

Well, that' s the thing with plans, love. They' re not always reliable. Me and your dad decided it' s best that you do a test just in case.'

I stared down at the box, then caught the dazed look on Joe' s face. What if I was miraculously up the duff and I couldn' t blame my main course?

Mum was right in that case, wasn' t she? It' s all very well making cold, hard plans with someone you love, using a spread sheet and a calendar, only life has a habit of messing things up. Ignored issues can break apart new relationships, but unfathomable surprises can shatter established ones to bits.

Poor Joe already knew about broken homes. Luckily, around about then, we shared a big silly grin.

It' s OK if it' s mine¼ or the roast potatoes,' he said. I' m not going anywhere. I might have got off to a bad start, but I' ve seen a lot of good relationships since then.'

He nodded across the room to my parents.

They stood holding hands as well. I had to wipe at my eyes seeing them and their loving, united front against the unexpected. Though you must understand, I definitely wasn' t hormonal.

The spuds made me pregnant,' I said very firmly to Joe. But I' m glad I' m all bloated. This potato baby has taught me more about us than any of our plans ever will.'

We' d take bombshells in our stride like my parents, I meant. They' d been married for 24 years and counting.

Dad kissed Mum and Mum kissed him back. What else could Joe and I do but follow their example?

Mum, I am not pregnant. And what do you have a pregnancy test kit in the house for anyway?