The Model Wife Read Free Page B

warehouses and detergents. She also did some shoots for teenage magazines that involved standing on a street corner wearing a sweater dress and stripy tights, arms linked with another (prettier) model, pretending to laugh, even though the cold wind was biting her face, while passers-by sniggered at her, and a photographer yelled they were supposed to be going out on the razz not to a funeral. But her friends, Meena especially, were so excited at the idea of knowing a real-life model that she decided to stick with it for a couple of years before going back to swimwear. Then Luke and love entered her life, and their arrival seemed to sprinkle fairy dust into every cranny of her existence. After her rocky start, modelling jobs suddenly started to rush in: a shoot for Elle , the cover of Cosmo , a shoot for Glamour (in Cuba), another for Harper’s Bazaar .
    Poppy and Luke’s relationship had lasted nearly a year. She adored him with every ounce of her being. She worried increasingly about the fact he still hadn’t left Hannah, but she was sure it was just a matter of biding her time. She saw him usually two nights a week and occasionally for a stolen hour or so at weekends. They didn’t go out as much as they used to, they mostly stayed in bed, but that was enough.
    Then came that terrifying yet amazing day when Poppy’s period was so late and she’d been feeling so weird and off the booze that she decided to buy a pregnancy test. She peed on the stick and saw the line turn blue. It wasn’t a massive surprise. Even though Luke had asked her frequently if she was on the pill, and she’d frequently assured him she was, she’d never actually picked up her prescription. After all, Meena said the pill made you bloated, and Poppy kept reading in the papers how it was virtually impossible for any woman to have babies these days, except by expensive and painful IVF. And – although she could hardly admit it even to herself – she wanted a baby to love more than anything else, plus Luke would have to leave his wife, so she didn’t see how getting pregnant could really be a bad thing.
    She toyed with the idea of calling Meena who was surfing in Cornwall for the week in the hope of picking up Prince William or at least one of his friends. Then she decided Luke had to be the first to hear the news. She had to wait forty-eight hours until he came round after the show. She meant to tell him straight away, but he was feeling very frisky and steered her straight to the bed before she could even open her mouth. After a session which hadn’t been quite as vigorous as usual because Poppy was terrified of hurting the baby, whom she had already christened Isabelle, she took a deep breath.
    ‘Luke,’ she said, stroking his chest, ‘I’ve got something to tell you.’
    ‘Mmm?’ Luke’s eyes were closed; he was drifting off to sleep.
    ‘I’m… we… we’re having a baby.’
    ‘What?’ Luke sat up. He looked horrified. ‘You are joking?’
    ‘No,’ Poppy said, confused.
    ‘Fucking hell, Poppy! How the fuck did this happen? You’re on the pill.’
    ‘I… Yes, I am, but I guess it didn’t work.’
    ‘The pill always works. Shit. Well, we’d better get you to the doctor quickly. How far gone are you?’
    ‘I’m not sure. Maybe a couple of months. I didn’t want to go to the doctor until I told you. I thought we could go together.’
    ‘Fucking hell,’ Luke said again.
    Poppy started to cry. This was not the overjoyed reaction she’d expected.
    ‘I thought you’d be pleased.’
    ‘Pleased? How could I be pleased? I don’t want you having an abortion, but I don’t see what bloody choice we have.’
    She gasped. ‘An abortion?’
    ‘Well, what else were you going to do?’
    ‘Have the baby of course. Little Isabelle.’
    Luke’s face turned a shade of plum. ‘Isabelle? You know it’s a girl?’
    ‘No, I just have a feeling. I—’
    ‘My middle daughter’s called Isabelle. Christ, Poppy.’
    Poppy cried a