Chapter Text
2002
Jamie’s grandmother could still vividly remember the day her daughter had called her to tell her she was pregnant.
“Mum — it’s Maggie. Are you sitting down? I’ve got some news…”
There was laughter and happiness in her voice, and Di’s heart had fluttered. Could it be? Had her girl finally found someone?
Maggie – her youngest, and the only girl – had always been her princess, although the outcome of having three older brothers had been a fierce independence and an indomitable spirit.
Academically bright, she’d set off down ‘South’ to London ‘in search of her fortune’, like a latter-day Dick Whittington, and although she didn’t end up as Lord Mayor, she certainly didn’t do badly for herself.
Despite her happy, outgoing nature, however, she didn’t seem able to ‘catch a fella’. She had plenty of casual boyfriends (probably many more than she let her mother know about), but none of them stuck around. Di didn’t know what the reason was, especially being so far away and all, but Maggie never seemed worried.
“I’ve got a great career, I’m in no rush to settle down. And you’ve got five grandkids already mum…”
But even if Maggie ignored her biological clock, her mother didn’t. It was all well and good focusing on her career, but she was now in her mid-thirties, and one day she might regret letting it all slide past – and then it would be too late. So could it be…?
“Go on Sweetheart – don’t keep me hanging. The suspension might kill me.”
A soft chuckle, and Di could almost see the curve of the smile.
“Alright then… Get out your knitting needles, you might need to start on a new set of tiny bootees.”
“Maggie, are you for real? Are you actually pregnant? Is there a father?”
Maggie was by now actually laughing, as everyone of Di’s hopes and dreams awoke with renewed fervour.
“Yes, mum, I’m very much for real. The baby is real too! Although the father… Well.”
A slight hesitation. “This is… Not that happy. I went to one of these conference things a few months back, and there was this drop-dead gorgeous bloke… And don’t even start, mum, I know everything you’re going to say. Anyways. You know what I’m like, I didn’t keep count or anything, and it took me nearly two months to twig that I was late… But, I bought the kit and peed on the stick and it was all blue and everything. Took me a few days to get my head around it, but I guess all these years of you nagging me must have done summat, ‘cause I realised I wanted to keep it. Then I started wondering whether to tell the dad or not, but figured I could at least let him know, you know? Like — I’m happy to go it alone, but maybe he’d want to be involved or whatever, and I don’t want to deprive the little one if I can help it. So, I tried getting in touch, but couldn’t get through at all. Then I started to see if I could find him online, and… he’d died. Hit-and-run accident about a month back.”
“Oh my god Sweetheart…”
“Yeah, that part’s just kinda shit. I guess it happens all the time, just — not to anyone I’ve ever known.”
A resigned sigh. “So that’s that. But what can you do? I hope the baby takes after him though, looks-wise I mean, cause he really was utterly beautiful. Tall and blonde and with this really striking face. Could've been a model, easily. Unlike yours truly who's still little Miss Short Round, who can't stick to a diet. Mind you, the diet's kinda gone out the window now, what with eating for two. It’s a girl by the way, did I mention that? I’ve had my twelve week scan and everything — I’ll email it through so you can see. Get Greg or someone to give you a hand if you still can’t open attachments…”
Di almost didn’t hear the last little dig, as she was busy trying to work out where she was on this sudden emotional rollercoaster, hardly knowing how to react. Except the baby was a good thing, that much she was sure of. A little girl…
“Sweetheart, have you thought about maybe moving back up north? You’re all alone down there in London, and you’ll need support-”
“Mum. It’s my baby. And I can raise it without three million cousins and aunties hanging over me. I love you all, but I’ll work something out, OK? Trust me. I’ve been looking after myself for the best part of twenty years, I’ll manage a baby too.”
“Well, if you ever need help, just say. I’m happy to come down, any time you need me. I know you like your independence, but babies aren’t as easily managed as meetings.”
“You clearly haven’t met some of the people I’ve worked with. Give me a screaming toddler any day!”
They kept talking and Maggie promised to come up to see them all as soon as possible… Yet it was more than two months before she managed to find time in her diary.
***
The wait was worth it, however, and Di welcomed a glowing daughter with quite a sizeable bump.
“Well, I am nearly six months… And as healthy as can be, according to the midwife! You keep me on the straight and narrow, don’t you dear?” she patted her stomach and chuckled, curls bouncing.
“I swear to god she gets grumpy if I’m stressed. Oh, and she didn’t like the train! I read that motion is supposed to be soothing, but she was not happy.”
Di shot her husband a look. “And you said I was bad, back in the day!”
He chuckled, studying his only daughter with great fondness.
“Maggie sweetcheeks, you’ve got it bad. Women all get like that, but I’d hoped you’d have been the exception. The baby says this, the baby says that. Usually it’s about how us fellas should do more…”
Maggie smiled, softly stroking the smooth curve of the bump, but didn’t bat an eyelid.
“Laugh all you want dad, but I swear to you, I can tell what mood she’s in.”
“Have you thought of a name yet?” Di asked, and Maggie’s eyes lit up — half pleasure, half mischief.
“Yes! I’m naming her Jamie.”
“Jamie?” her father echoed, and Maggie’s smile deepened as she explained: “After Jamie Lee Curtis, the sexiest woman alive!”
“Well if you’re sure sweetheart… But it is more of a boy’s name,” Di said gently, and Maggie waved a hand dismissively.
“If she’s anything like me, she won’t mind at all. Imma gonna raise a strong, independent woman, just you watch me!”
Later, Di would reflect that Maggie had certainly been correct when it came to the ‘strong and independent’ portion of her statement. But the ‘woman’ part was something else…