Baby on Board

Bullshit

Standing by an open front door in mid-October when the wind is starting to pick up and the rain is coming down nicely, I look at my watch and sigh when I realise that not only have I been stood here for ten minutes, waiting, but we're also going to be very late for the reservation I had made and the film that we were supposed to be seeing later on. 

"Will you hurry up, for crying out loud?" I shout into the building. From the deepest depths, I hear a shout of 'Hold on a second!' but that's what she had told me ten minutes ago. Seriously, it does not take that long for someone to get ready. "We're going to be late. I am not taking the blame for this. If you get hangry, that's your own fault. Hurry up!"

I am inpatient man. I hate having to wait around, especially for a woman to get ready. To put it into perspective, I took a total of thirteen minutes to shower and get dressed and I look great. If I can look this good in that little time, anyone can. 

"Alright, old man, I'm ready," I hear Martha say as she rampages down the hallway, coat slung over her shoulders and an unimpressed smirk on her face. Immediately, she pushes past me and heads to my waiting car, jumping in and closing the door. Irritated, I make sure to turn off all the lights and lock her door so she doesn't get robbed and then head to the car. When I'm comfortably sitting in the driver's seat, Martha looks at me. "I still don't get why you're insisting that we go out. Why can't you take Charlotte out instead? I could look after Sera. I'm sure Sam would-"

"No," I immediately cut her off at the mention of Samuel Courtenay coming over. Starting the car, I drive us onto the main roads of London and start to follow the sat nav directions to Sebon, a restaurant I knew Martha liked. "Why is it so bad that I want to spend time with you, huh? When was the last time you and I hung out, just the two of us? Shoot me for taking an interest in my daughter."

Since my conversation with Mick last week, I realised that I was very much out of the loop when it came to Martha. I mean, my best mate knew more about her than I did and for me, that didn't seem right. The whole point of Martha living in London and living at the other end of the garden was so that I could be part of her life, to make up for the years that I had missed out on. Since her eighteenth birthday, though, I feel as if we've drifted apart. I know that I have a four-week-old baby, too, but Martha is also my baby, even if she's grown up. As a parent, we will always see our kids as those tiny bundles of joy that we brought home from the hospital; nothing will ever change the fact that Martha is my bindi. 

There were things in her life that I knew very little about. I hadn't known she and Will had broken up because Martha didn't tell me. Even when I asked her on Monday how he was, she simply shrugged her shoulders and finished eating the cake Lottie had made earlier that day. I wanted to ask her about her job and how that was going, but more than that, I wanted to suss out the growing relationship between her and Sam. 

Things there made me uncomfortable. Martha was falling for him, I could see that, but I didn't know if it was just lust or if it's more than that. Did she love him? Does he love her? Do they love each other? Is she only his employee? Is he only her employer? Are they only colleagues? Is she just a friend? Does he see her as more than that? Are they in a relationship?