Be My Baby Read online




  Two’s company…

  If you asked Mollie whether she struggled as a single mum, she’d have to cover her daughter’s ears before answering. Surrounded by friends, watching Esme grow into the sassiest eleven-year-old in North London, and building her name as TV chef Mollie Makes, Mollie’s never been happier. Well, that’s what she’d tell you. But as her best friends pair off, and Esme starts getting into trouble at school, Mollie wonders whether life would be different – not better…but easier – with a team mate.

  Three’s a crowd?

  But Esme’s dad, Jamie, would be the last man Mollie would team up with. After all, he made it clear eleven years ago that he wasn’t interested in playing the family game. So when he suddenly reappears, Mollie can’t believe her eyes. And soon, she’s got to ask herself the hardest question yet: she knows she can succeed as a single mum. But what if her daughter doesn’t want her to?

  Also by A.L. Michael

  Goodbye Ruby Tuesday

  Nice Day for a White Wedding

  The Last Word

  Driving Home for Christmas

  My So-Called (Love) Life

  If You Don’t Know Me By Now

  Praise for A.L. Michael

  ‘I know it’s a good book when I shut the Kindle cover and sigh with contentment. The Last Word totally did it for me.’ 4* from Angela*

  ‘This is a funny, funny book.’ 5* to The Last Word from Rosee**

  ‘Fresh, fast and … had that magical romance feeling and a bit of hotness that you just can’t help but love. Absolutely brilliant!’ 5* to The Last Word from The Book Geek Wears Pajamas

  ‘I LOVED THIS. I laughed, I cried, I fell in love. All of the emotions were felt in the reading of this book and it is definitely one of the best Christmas releases that I’ve read this year.’ 5* to Driving Home for Christmas from Erin’s Choice**

  ‘I laughed, I cried and I was left with that warm fuzzy feeling you get when you read something wonderful.’ 5* to Driving Home for Christmas from That Thing She Reads

  ‘The story put a huge smile on my face and it’s just a feel-good with a bit of spark, glimmer, friendship, heart, fun and love. I couldn’t put it down!!!’ 5* to My So-Called (Love) Life from Simona**

  ‘My So-Called (Love) Life was one of those books I just happened to read at the right time which completely lifted my mood and made me feel and smile and want to start reading again.’ 5* to My So-Called (Love) Life from Sophie*

  *Review from Goodreads

  **Review from Amazon

  Be My Baby

  The House on Camden Square

  A. L. Michael

  A. L. MICHAEL

  is a twenty-something writer from North London, currently living in Watford. She has a BA in English Literature with Creative Writing, and an MA in Creative Entrepreneurship (both from UEA) and is studying for an MSc in Creative Writing for Therapeutic Purposes. She is not at all dependent on her student discount card. She works as a therapeutic creative facilitator, a reports writer, and is currently working on her eighth novel.

  Big love to my writer friends for constantly listen to me whine, for my work friends for listening to me whine, and for all of them for recommending wine. And a huge thank you to three mama bear Mollie inspirations:

  To the wonderful Sara Veal, of Huhbub, who arranged the sparkliest, most fabulous book launch a girl could ask for. And is some kind of superwoman.

  A huge, big bear-hug of a thank you to Kaisha from The Writing Garnet, who has worked so hard to share this series, because she knows how much it’s meant to me. You’re a superstar, lady.

  And thank you to Megan Stachini, who lent me Mollie’s name, as well as inspiring me with her amazing ability to work, succeed, dream, be a mum and kick some arse.

  For those mamas, making it work no matter what. You’re warrior queens.

  And for my Mama.

  For so many reasons.

  Contents

  Cover

  Blurb

  Book List

  Praise

  Title Page

  Author Bio

  Acknowledgement

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Epilogue

  Copyright

  Chapter One

  Well, Mollie thought as she desperately sipped her glass of Pinot Grigio, Ben was perfectly nice. But he was going to have to die.

  This one was all Kit’s fault, suggesting a ‘friend’ from work. Ben was an accountant, he went to the gym every day at five a.m., he loved holidays in the south of France and would choose a good cheeseboard over a dessert, every time. Ben also chewed with his mouth open, and if she had to look at the half-masticated cow he’d been rolling around his trap whilst he’d been talking, for one moment more, Mollie thought she might vomit. Also, the man didn’t ask questions.

  ‘Well, I should probably get going, got a big morning tomorrow, you know,’ Mollie shrugged, signalling desperately to the waitress for the bill, and reaching for her purse.

  ‘Big morning?’ Ben smiled, ‘I thought you worked in the arts? Surely it’s all ten a.m. starts and parties?’Ah, so he did ask questions. Stupid questions.

  ‘Nope, I’ve started a company creating healthy, exciting food for kids. I’m being interviewed for a morning TV slot. Mollie Makes...’ Mollie shrugged awkwardly, ignoring the fact that, whilst that was true, that wasn’t happening tomorrow. Tomorrow morning she was taking her daughter to school. Not that he knew she had a daughter, because Ben didn’t ask questions.

  ‘Oh no, not more of all that “kids can eat quinoa” bollocks, is it?’ Ben laughed, slurping at his wine. The wine he’d spent ten minutes telling the waitress didn’t have a full enough body, and was incorrectly described on the menu. ‘I ate chicken nuggets and chips all the time as a kid. If those obese kiddies are fat, it’s because they’re lazy and need to get off their games consoles.’

  Mollie widened her eyes, but said nothing, instead sending a look of relieved appreciation as the waitress delivered the bill. The girl caught her eye and quirked a lip, she must have seen a billion bad dates at this table. Mollie brandished her purse desperately, hoping the waitress wouldn’t leave.

  ‘Oh no, no, Molls, my women don’t pay,’ Ben shook his head, reaching for his wallet, ‘besides, I don’t suppose you’ve got a gold card, have you?’

  ‘No, I applied, but when they asked for my soul as collateral, I had to decline,’ Mollie smiled sweetly, and Ben looked at her in surprise.

  ‘Well look, Molls...’ he pulled out her chair as she stood, ‘let’s talk about where this is going, I’m an upfront guy, can’t afford to waste time, time is money you know. So, how many dates before I get the keys to the kingdom, so to speak?’ He raised his eyebrows in what he seemed to think was a playful manner and grinned, hands in his pockets as he shrugged.

  Mollie pursed her lips as if she was thinking, ‘Ahh, I see, I mean, you’ve got out the gold card, so...’

  ‘Exactly! I knew you were the sort of woman who understood how the world works.’

  She was that sort of woman, Mollie realised. She was a woman in her late twenties, who had successfully raised a child, who had started a business, left her crappy home town and created a brilliant life. And the only thing that was missing was someone to share it with.

  But apparently, in the eleven years she had been raising a child, men had started to believe that swiping right was what their opposab
le thumbs were truly for. No more. If this was how the dating world worked, then the fairy tale was dead before it began. It was time to put away the politeness.

  ‘Right, well,’ Mollie pouted, twirling her blonde curls around her finger thoughtfully, ‘I’m afraid my vagina doesn’t come with a card chip-and-pin machine. Or contactless. But thanks though. Word of advice? Maybe try chewing with your mouth closed in future. Or just keep your mouth closed throughout the date, that would work too.’

  Mollie threw her shoulders back as she walked off, and the waitress grinned at her, clapping her hands silently in applause. Well, for her first date in eleven years... that went as well as could be expected.

  The girls were waiting at the studio when she got back, making use of their new ‘business purchase’ – a projector – watching The Breakfast Club against the wall, curled up on some massive cushions. They were going to start doing movie nights at the Ruby Rooms, as the evenings got darker. She was working on some posh popcorn recipes. Or she would be, when she had a moment to think beyond Mollie Makes, running the gallery, and being there for her daughter.

  Evie paused, looking at her watch, frowning and looking back at Mollie. Chelsea was about to throw a handful of popcorn in her mouth, and stopped.

  ‘So?’ They both looked up, eyes wide and hopeful.

  Mollie threw her bag on the table and pulled her heels off, collapsing into the oversized pillows next to them and reaching for the popcorn. ‘So, I’m going to murder Kit. How come he’s so lovely and he can be friends with a dickhead like that?’

  Chelsea bit her lip, debating defending her fiancé’s choice in the set-up, ‘I mean, friend might be a bit strong... acquaintance, work colleague...’

  ‘One that he felt would be a good match for me?’ Mollie huffed, ‘Has he met me? I mean, does Kit actually like me, because that felt a lot like a punishment. Is he still annoyed about that time I shouted because he gave Esme that triple chocolate fudge cupcake before dinner?’

  ‘It was a sweet thought,’ Evie said fairly, handing over a bowl of Maltesers, ‘it can’t have been that bad.’

  ‘He asked me how many times he was going to have to pay for dinner before he got the, and I quote, “keys to the kingdom”.’

  Evie raised her eyebrows and looked at Chelsea, ‘We’re going to have to talk to Kit. There was a level of trust involved here. He may need to be punished. Or he’s just not allowed to have opinions any more.’

  Chelsea rolled her eyes, ‘It comes from a place of love. He just wants you to be happy.’

  ‘And he wants me to have a date for your wedding.’

  ‘Be flattered – Kit thinks you’re so wonderful he doesn’t want to deprive anyone of your company.’

  Mollie wrinkled her nose, ‘Well that’s lovely, but Kit gets no say any more, and if it throws off your seating chart, I reserve the right to tell him to go to hell.’

  She stole a sip of Chelsea’s wine, then shook her head, ‘I’m sorry. I just... I was actually hopeful. You guys forced me into this, but I was kind of excited, to get to do the dating thing. I mean... I’ve never dated, really. Not in an adult way.’

  Evie snorted, ‘Yeah, I mean Jamie was nice and everything, but a bucket of popcorn and a movie is hardly how adults date these days.’

  Mollie’s face went blank and she pursed her lips together, not saying anything. Wrong move, mentioning Jay. They didn’t mention Jay. Ever.

  The silence stretched on until moment passed, and Evie tried to carry on, ‘Anyway, it was a bad experience, the first time at anything is crap. Try, try again, right?’

  ‘This isn’t my world,’ Mollie tugged at her hair, ‘Online dating? Apps and setups? You guys didn’t have to do that. Is it so bad that I want a meet-cute? Do people not have meet-cutes any more?’

  Chelsea frowned, ‘I don’t think people know when they’re having a meet-cute. I mean, I got chatted up by some obnoxious git at a party, and I let him carry on talking because I’d had too much wine and his eyes were pretty. And she,’ Chelsea pointed at Evie, ‘spent weeks fighting with some guy she called the devil more than once, before realising she actually wanted to fight with him in between kissing.’

  ‘Nothing cute there,’ Evie nodded.

  Mollie flipped her hair in frustration, hiding behind the long strands and staring at her friends from behind the curtain, ‘I don’t know why I agreed to do this. Why I thought I wanted to. I don’t want to. I’m happy. We’re happy. Esme’s happy. Why do I need to date?’

  ‘Because you’re not avoiding it because you’re happy, you’re avoiding it because you’re scared,’ Chelsea said sagely, pouring Mollie a glass of wine, mainly so she could drink her own in peace without it being stolen every five seconds.

  ‘So what?’ Mollie pouted, crossing her arms.

  ‘When you’re more immature than your kid, it’s time to wonder about the situation,’ Evie agreed, ‘I mean, I haven’t seen you pout since you were seventeen and someone stole your art project idea.’

  Mollie twitched her mouth and rolled her eyes, before smiling. ‘Okay, fine, but this was horrible. I mean, is this what dating is? You told me I had to start dating again, and I’ve shown willing. I mean, what, I’m just meant to put up with a year of dick pics, obnoxious comments about paying the bill and that up-and-down eye movement as they scan my thighs, until my Prince Charming arrives, one hand on his cock and the other on his bank card? This is not my future!’

  Chelsea handed over the wine and patted Mollie’s shoulder gently, ‘Babe, you did what I asked. You put yourself out there. If you are truly telling me you don’t want to be with anyone, you don’t want to meet someone who might be a loving partner, who might see all the awesomeness that we see, and might be an amazing dad to Ez, well, then you don’t have to do it any more. But if even a tiny part of you wants the happy ever after, you’ve got to start sifting through the shit to find the gold. Dick pics and all.’

  Mollie sighed, rolling her head back against the bean bag. ‘I want the happy ever after. Hell, I’ll take the happy-for-a-while.’

  ‘Adda girl,’ Chelsea grinned.

  ‘Here’s to Mollie, for being brave!’ Evie held up her glass dramatically.

  ‘Here’s to me, for telling that dickhead where to shove his gold card,’ she grinned, holding her drink up.

  ‘Hear hear!’

  ***

  ‘I’m just saying, it’s important to be able to do things for yourself,’ Ruby shrugged, brandishing the screwdriver in her left hand and the plug in her right. ‘Jamie might not always be there to do this stuff for you.’

  Mollie narrowed her eyes, ‘I thought we’d been through this. He passed the stupid test. You like Jamie.’

  ‘I do like Jamie,’ Ruby rolled her eyes. ‘He may even be the only bloke who has a good heart, good intentions and a good smile, but I’m still saying, sometimes shit happens.’

  ‘Not to me and him.’

  Ruby tried not to laugh, pressing her lips together, and twirled her red curls around her fingertips, head tilted in question. She waited.

  Mollie laughed, ‘Okay, that was pretty pathetic, I’ll admit it.’

  ‘It’s okay, you’re in luuuurve,’ Ruby teased.

  They sat quietly, cross-legged on Mollie’s bed as Ruby wondered how to proceed.

  ‘You’re beautiful,’ Ruby said, smiling as Mollie blushed, her long blonde hair falling effortlessly over her shoulders, her bright brown eyes soft and warm. ‘And people will want to do things for you because you’re beautiful. But when you let them, they expect something in return.’

  ‘Like those boys who give you lifts to town because you flutter your eyelashes and tell them you’d be just oh so grateful?’ Mollie raised an eyebrow.

  ‘You’re not me, babe.’

  ‘So?’

  ‘You’re good,’ Ruby shrugged. ‘You wouldn’t lead someone on, you’d feel guilty, you’d feel like you owed them. And an owed favour is the worst thing. It puts you at a dis
advantage.’

  ‘Ruby Montgomery, the Godfather of Badgeley,’ Mollie snorted.

  ‘Look, I’m just saying, you’re going to uni, and I want to teach you how to change a fucking fuse, okay?’

  Mollie rolled her eyes, ‘But what you’re really saying is – people leave. So I shouldn’t wait for Jamie to change a fuse. Because people leave.’

  ‘I’m saying people let you down. And that always feels worse when you’re sitting in a room in the dark because you couldn’t figure out how to fix your bloody lamp, you difficult cow!’

  Mollie laughed, ‘Okay, okay, show me. But I will never believe that people always let you down.’

  ‘And as long as you can sort things for yourself, you don’t have to,’ Ruby said.

  ***

  The next day, Esme sat at the breakfast bar and looked at her mother shrewdly, ‘So, you went on a date...’

  Esme had never really been like a normal child, but with her light blonde hair parted into two pigtails, and her oversized glasses perched on the end of her nose, she could almost pass for your standard eleven-year-old. Except for the Led Zeppelin t-shirt and the drawn-on beauty spot. And those eyes that managed to see through to your soul and demand honesty.

  ‘Yes, I did,’ Mollie put down a plate in front of her. ‘Eat your toast.’

  ‘Did he bring you flowers? And say that you looked pretty?’

  No, he told me my work was worthless but he’d still bang me.

  ‘Not everything’s like it is in the movies, baby,’ Mollie shrugged, stroking her daughter’s cheek.

  ‘So he’s not going to be my new daddy?’

  Mollie whirled around and felt her jaw drop as her daughter giggled, winking at her. ‘Evie told me to say that.’

  ‘Tell-tale!’ came Evie’s muffled voice from her bedroom, down the hall.

  ‘Hate you!’ Mollie yelled to her friend.

  ‘No you don’t!’ came the response.

  Mollie rolled her eyes and sat down on the barstool next to her daughter. ‘Okay, so you have questions? I’ll answer them. I know this must be weird for you.’