Prologue
Hello, I’m Emma. I’m a thirty-six year old make-up artist. I married James five years ago. He’s a rugby coach, which means that I spend a lot of time standing on the sidelines of rugby pitches in the lashing rain and howling wind. After a happy first year of marriage we decided to have children. Unfortunately Mother Nature was not on our team, so after a couple of years of post sex gymnastics followed by fertility treatments - all of which failed - we decided to adopt.
We then spent a year and a half sitting through a very intense adoption course where everything about us and our relationship was dissected by social workers – including how often we had sex! We eventually got approved to adopt and a month ago we flew to a children’s home in the back end of Russia to meet our little son Yuri, with whom we both fell in love at first sight.
We are now on our way back to Russia to make the adoption
official in court. We can then bring Yuri home to Ireland with us
and begin our life as a family.
Oh and by the way, I’ve just found out that I’m
pregnant. Seven weeks. Needless to say I’m in shock. I told
James last night…
Chapter 1
The day after my best friend Lucy ‘s wedding, I woke up
to find James staring at me.
"What? Do I have dribble on my face?"
"Was I dreaming last night or did you tell me you were
pregnant?" asked James.
I shook my head and smiled. "Nope, I am. Can you believe
it James? After all this time and all those horrible tests and
IVF and now that we finally have a son, I’m pregnant! It
must have been all the distractions of the adoption. I must have
stopped obsessing about getting pregnant and then it just
happened. Isn’t it amazing," I sighed leaning back into
my pillows grinning to myself.
James leant over and kissed me. "You do realise this
means we’re going to have two children in the space of seven
months."
"I know, isn’t it wonderful?"
"Absolutely! I think I’m still in shock. How are you
feeling by the way?"
"To be honest I’ve been feeling really sick lately, but
I just presumed it was nerves and stress with all the adoption
stuff. It never crossed my mind that I might be pregnant. If Jess
hadn’t asked to borrow my Tampax, I’d still be none the
wiser."
Jess is my other best friend. She has two kids – Roy
(named after Roy Keane, her husband Tony is a big Man U fan; and
Sally, named after Meg Ryan in When Harry met Sally which
is Jess’s favourite movie.)
Jess, Lucy and I had all been in school together and Jess and
I were Lucy’s bridesmaids. The guy she married, Donal, is
the captain of the Leinster rugby team that James trains and his
best friend. So James was best man at the wedding. I had set Lucy
and Donal up on a blind date and although they had a tempestuous
start to the relationship, they eventually fell in love which had
culminated in their wedding the day before. I took full credit
for my matchmaking skills.
Anyway, the day before the wedding, when Jess and I were
supposed to be doing helpful bridesmaid stuff, but had actually
snuck off to have a drink, as far away from Lucy’s
overbearing snob of a mother as we could get, Jess had asked to
borrow some Tampax. I suddenly realised that I hadn’t had my
period in ages. Normally I knew my cycle inside out, but I had
been so distracted by the adoption that I had clean forgotten. I
told Jess I didn’t have any with me and went up to my room
to look at my calendar. I was over four weeks late! I was
shocked.
I nipped down to the local chemist and bought two pregnancy
tests. They were both positive. I couldn’t believe it. I had
been praying for this moment for such a long time, but now that I
was pregnant, I felt completely numb. It was only really when I
told James the next day and saw his face, that I realised it was
true and we were actually going to have a baby.
"Gosh it’s going be some year. We’ll have a
ready made family by the end of it," said James, shaking his
head.
"I know," I said, imagining us walking in the park.
James and Yuri walking ahead while I strolled behind with a
little brother or sister in the pram.
"It’ll be tough going too though. Especially for
you, being pregnant and looking after Yuri all day."
"Are you planning on going somewhere?"
"No"
"Well then why will I be on my own with Yuri?"
"Because I’ll be at work."
"Well James, you’re going to have to spend less time
at the club this year. Delegate more to Jonjo."
Jonjo was James’ assistant coach at the Lenister rugby
club, and from what I could see, he did sod all. James had
coached the team to victory in the European Cup a few months
earlier, no thanks to Jonjo, who seemed to spend more time
socialising with the team than coaching them.
"Jonjo does his bit. But Emma, I’m going to be
pretty tied up this year. We’re defending the Cup. We
don’t want to give it back."
"Ok, well you can take Yuri down to training with you.
Get him used to rugby at an early age."
"I think ten months might just be a tad young. You do
have to be able to walk to play rugby. Mind you, it would be
wonderful if he ended up playing for England some day."
"I think you mean Ireland," I said, reminding him of
where he lived. James was English, but had been living in Dublin
for the past nine years.
"If he’s good enough, I’d like him to play for
England, with an English father he can declare for them any
time."
"But my Dad will be devastated. Yuri has to don the green
jersey and play for Ireland."
"Darling, England won the World Cup last year. I’d
rather he played for them."
I rolled my eyes. As if I didn’t know that England had
won the bloody World Cup. For at least three months after the
team’s victory in Sydney, every time I walked into the TV
room, James was watching replays of Johnnie Wilkinson’s
winning drop goal and shaking his head in admiration. I actually
thought at one point that James was in love with Johnnie.
"He might hate rugby and be brilliant at tennis," I
countered. "I’d much rather go to Wimbledon that
Twickenham. We could sit in the family box, drink champagne eat
strawberries and hang out with the Duchesse of whatsit and Sue
Barker and John McEnroe. Mind you with his Russian roots Yuri
might be more keen on ballet."
"No," said James sharply.
"What do you mean no?"
"No son of mine is going to ponce around in a pair of tights
with his balls up around his neck."
"Ballet’s beautiful, it’s so expressive."
"Exactly"
"And athletic, you should see the way they leap
about."
"He can jump around the rugby pitch."
"I hope you’re not going to go all macho James. I want
Yuri to explore the creative side that he’s bound to have
inherited. The Russians are very arty."
James groaned. "Emma, please tell me you’re winding
me up. You’re not going to start booking him into dance
classes are you?"
"I might –"
There was a knock on our door. It was my sister Babs. Lucy had
invited my whole family – my parents; Sean, my younger
brother by eighteen months and his fiancée Shadee and my brat of
a sister Babs, the afterthought, twelve years younger than me.
We’d all spent the night in the same hotel.
"Helloooooo, are you decent? I’m hiding from Mum,
let me in."
James grinned at me and scurried off to have a shower, while I
let Babs in. She was wearing a tiny T-shirt that barely covered
her bum.
"Have you no shame. Where’s your dressing
gown?"
She shrugged, "Dunno and I’m too hung over to care.
I just tried to order breakfast but they said it was too late and
I’ve eaten everything in my mini-bar so I’ve come to
raid yours, she said, bending down to grab the Toblerone from our
mini-bar. Thank God James was in the shower I thought, as I got a
full flash of her arse.
"Hey, what’s this?" she said, as she threw her
wrapper into the waste paper basket which was empty except for
–
SHIT, my pregnancy test!
"Emma?" she said looking at the positive result and
then at me, for once in her life speechless.
I groaned and covered my head with the pillow. I wanted to get
used to the news myself first. James had only known for about
twelve hours – nine of which he’d spent in a Guinness
induced coma.
"Look, I’ve only just found out, I’m still in
shock. Don’t tell Mum Ok – "
"Don’t tell Mum what?" asked my mother coming
through the bedroom door that Babs had left wide open.
"It’s like central station in here," I said,
trying to distract my mother. "Well, what a wedding. Did you
have fun Mum?"
"What is Barbara not supposed to tell me?" she asked,
glaring at me suspiciously.
Babs, helpful as ever, waved the pregnancy stick in front of
her face and shouted, "Emma’s preggers!."
"What?" said Mum, staring at me, "Is she
joking? Are you?"
I nodded, suddenly feeling overcome with emotion as I saw my
mother’s eyes well up with tears.
"Oh Emma," she said, reaching over to hug me.
"Oh what a wonderful surprise. How long have you
known?"
"I’ve literally only just found out."
"Well you won’t need to go to Russia now."
"What do you mean? Of course we’re gong to Russia.
Yuri’s our little boy, this is just an incredible,
miraculous bonus."
"But you don’t need to adopt somebody else’s
child, you’ve your own now."
"MUM! We love Yuri, we want him to be our son and we are
going to be officially adopting him in five days time. Nothing
has changed."
"You need to think about it Emma. He might feel a bit
left out now that you’re going to have a baby. He’ll
always be adopted and the other child won’t be."
"Mum, Yuri is our son in every way. We adore him and I
don’t want to hear any more of your opinions. We’re
leaving tomorrow to go and adopt him officially so just drop it,
OK?"
"Lord, there’s no need to bite my head off. It must be
your hormones. Lie back now and calm yourself. It’s not good
for a woman in your condition to be getting het up. You need to
mind yourself Emma, there’s a very high risk of miscarriage
in older women."
"I’m not old," I said gritting my teeth. It
never ceased to amaze me how easily my mother could make my blood
boil.
"Well you’re no spring chicken either."
"Whose no spring chicken?" asked Dad, wandering into
the room.
"Me apparently," I said
"Emma’s pregnant," said Mum.
Dad looked at me, I smiled and nodded.
"Jesus, I think I’m having a heart attack.
There’s never a dull moment with this family. Oh Emma love
that’s the best news I ever heard," he said hugging me.
"What is?" asked Sean coming in to join the family.
"Emma’s pregnant and Dad’s getting all
soppy," said Babs, taking a large bite of the Toblerone.
"WHAT? Really? Oh Emma that’s fantastic," said
Sean taking over from Dad in the hug department. "It’s
going to be an exciting year for the family," said Sean
smiling at everyone. "Emma’s two babies and my
wedding."
"What about my job?" demanded Babs.
"Nose job or real job?" asked Sean, referring to the
nose job that Babs had recently undergone, transforming her from
an attractive blond with a great figure but a large hooknose
– we’re talking Barbara Streisand, Barry Manilow,
Seabiscuit, Shergar…you get the picture – into a very
good looking blond with a lovely shaped nose.
"I’m referring to my job as a television
presenter," said Babs, flicking her hair. She had landed a
job selling crappy products on BFL – the Buy For Less
channel in London and thought she was the new Oprah.
"What are you selling again – window cleaners and
wooden spoons?" asked Sean, winding her up. Thankfully,
before a fight broke out, James came strolling out of the
bathroom in his towling robe.
"CONGRATULATIONS" said everyone, descending upon
him.
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