“I can’t. Elinor’s in a Swiss clinic. I was planning to write her a letter—”
“No.” Suze shakes her head firmly. “Do it now. There must be someone you can call. Call that wedding planner, Robyn, and tell her it’s off. Bex, you can’t afford to leave it any longer.”
“OK,” I say, ignoring the leap of apprehension inside me. “OK, I’ll do it. I’ll… I’ll call her.”
I lift up the phone — then put it down again. Making the decision in my head was one thing. Actually making the call is another.
What’s Robyn going to say? What’s everybody going to say? I wouldn’t mind a little time, just to think through exactly what I’m going to tell them…
“Go on!” says Suze. “Do it!”
“All right!”
With trembling hands I lift the phone and dial 001 for America — but the display remains blank.
“Oh… dear!” I exclaim, trying to sound upset. “I can’t get a signal! Oh well, I’ll just have to phone later—”
“No you won’t! We’ll keep walking till you get one. Come on!” Suze starts marching toward the King’s Road and I scuttle nervously along behind her.
“Try again,” she says as we reach the first pedestrian crossing.
“Nothing,” I quaver. God, Suze looks incredible, like the prow of a ship. Her blond hair is streaming out behind her, and her face is flushed with determination. How come she’s got so much energy, anyway? I thought pregnant women were supposed to take it easy.
“Try again!” she repeats after every three hundred feet. “Try again! I’m not stopping till you’ve made that call!”
“There’s nothing!”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes!” Frantically I punch at the buttons, trying to trigger a signal. “Look!”
“Well, keep trying! Come on!”
“I am! I am!”
“Oh my God!” Suze gives a sudden shriek and I jump in terror.
“I’m trying! Honestly, Suze, I’m trying as hard as I—”
“No! Look!”
I stop still, and turn round. She’s stopped still on the pavement, ten yards behind me, and there’s a puddle of water at her feet.
“Suze… don’t worry,” I say awkwardly. “I won’t tell anybody.”
“No! You don’t understand! It’s not…” She stares at me wildly. “I think my waters have broken!”
“Your what?” I feel a thud of pure fright. “Does that mean… Are you going to—”
This can’t be happening.
As soon as we get into Peter Jones, I look around for an assistant. And thank goodness, here comes one, a nice middle-aged lady with red lipstick and gold spectacles on a chain.
“My friend needs an ambulance,” I gasp.
“A taxi will be fine, honestly,” says Suze. “It’s just that my waters have broken. So I should probably get to the hospital.”
“Goodness!” says the lady. “Come and sit down, dear, and I’ll call a taxi for you…”
We sit Suze down on a chair by a checkout desk, and a junior assistant brings her a glass of water.