‘Well it’s your house …’ Was she flirting? It had been so damn long, she didn’t actually know if she was or not.
He interpreted her hesitation exactly as he seemed to want to, taking his jacket off and laying it across a chair.
‘So … where are these instructions?’
Which is how, two hours later, Kate, walking through the still open front door and up the stairs unnoticed, found them both, hot and tired, sitting close together on the partially sanded floor with their backs against the wall, drinking mugs of coffee and admiring their work, which had rendered the floor stylishly matt and pale.
Gigi felt strangely as though she’d been caught at something. She scrambled to her feet.
‘Kate – this is Adam. He owns the rest of the house.’
Adam stood up and shook Kate’s hand. ‘Good to meet you, Kate.’
And now, suddenly, he took the cue to leave.
‘Your friend has this completely under control, so I’ll leave you two to it … I’ll see you, Gigi.’
After he left, Kate raised an eyebrow.
‘What?’
‘What indeed …’
‘Oh, for goodness’ sake. He was just helping me. He found me trying to wrestle it up the stairs. Stayed to help. That’s all.’
‘Okay.’ Kate was grinning at her.
‘Kate! Seriously. It’s his house. He probably just thought I looked completely incompetent and wanted to save his floors.’
‘If you say so.’ She bumped her hip against Gigi’s, who shoved her playfully in return.
‘You’re being ridiculous.’
‘You’re being disingenuous. He’s gorgeous.’
‘He’s all right.’ She wouldn’t have said gorgeous. Nice-looking, definitely. Very nice-looking.
‘I hate you.’
‘Why?’
‘I’ve been alone for years. Not so much as a sniff. You’ve been alone for all of five minutes, and you’ve got silver foxes showing up to sand your floors … which is, I’m sure, merely a euphemism. Can’t remember the last time my floors had a good sanding …’
Gigi laughed. It was so stupid. ‘Don’t be daft.’
The eyebrow had a mind of its own and refused to lie flat.
Gigi ignored it and poured another mug of coffee.
‘What does he do, then, your “landlord”?’
Gigi realized she had no idea.
‘We didn’t really talk. Other than about this machine. We were in fact actually sanding the floor. As you can see.’
She gestured theatrically.
‘Hmmm. If you say so …’
Gigi punched her friend’s arm. ‘I say so. Now shut up, drink this and give me a hand. I’ve got to get the machine back by 4 p.m.’
Tess
Sean’s text came on the day after the scan. She wanted to see him before her hospital appointment. She hadn’t decided what to tell him. It depended on what he was going to tell her, she supposed.
I don’t know where you’re staying. I’m back from NY. I thought we should meet up. Is there a time that’s good for you?
He wasn’t giving anything away.
Tess had asked Sean if he’d meet her in a small Italian restaurant near his flat. They’d eaten there, but it hadn’t been ‘their place’. She wasn’t ready to go to the flat. And she didn’t think it would work with Donna, having him at the house. Neutral ground seemed best. Sitting at a table in the corner, facing the door, she looked down and realized this would be the first time he’d seen her actually looking pregnant. She smoothed her top over her tummy. She was still wearing her own tops, the baggiest ones at least, but she’d abandoned all her trousers and skirts a couple of weeks ago, swapping buttons and zippers for the relief of large elastic panels and forgiving waistbands. Holly had gone with her to a maternity-wear shop, passing things into the changing room.
‘You’re going to wear that baby like a football, damn you. Remember what a zeppelin I was with Dulcie?’
‘I just remember you glowing.’
‘Liar.’ Holly snorted. ‘I was a whale.’
Tess laughed. ‘No. Not a whale. Maybe … a seal …’
‘Elephant seal.’ Now they were both giggling. It was true. Holly had been vast, but, to Ben, and to Tess, still beautiful. The glowing bit was true. Even the waddle had been endearing.
‘I’ve still got quite a long way to go. I could blow up.’
‘Nah. I can tell. You’re gonna be one of those deeply aggravating women who looks perfectly normal from behind and can still button up her winter coat right at the end.’
‘That’s not how it feels.’
‘Well, it’s how it blooming well looks.’
‘Anyway, she’s due in August.’
‘Okay, then you’ll waft around in linen things, without girding underneath. Please console me by telling me you’ve got at least one stretchmark.’
‘You are not a good friend.’
‘I am the best friend you’ve got. Now show me …’
‘No. Get off …’
That was before the anomaly scan. She hadn’t been anxious then, just, finally, starting to be excited. Gigi had been brilliantly reassuring and Tess wanted to believe what she said, like she wanted to believe what the consultant had said.
The appointment was made for three days from now. She knew she was holding herself taut. Being careful. Jumping at every twinge. She could only hope most of the feeling would pass after the procedure. Although she knew, really, that the news at the scan had robbed her of a carefree pregnancy.
But, anxious as she was, she was feeling less bleak than when Sean had left. Less alone. He’d left a furious, weeping wreck of a woman who didn’t know what she was going to do. A mother bear, roused to rage. He hadn’t known that woman – God knows she hadn’t either. She hadn’t quite existed before. The fact that he’d left when she was in that mess was almost as damning as what he’d done. And neither was an act of love. Time and distance had told her that. Listening to the women in her life – even Iris, and passing through Donna in a way she would never have imagined – had shown her that. Whatever he thought love was, that wasn’t it.
And somehow love was all around. Maybe it was pregnancy hormones. She felt … supported. Holly was brilliant – but she was the given. Donna was a revelation. Even Gigi – wonderful, warm Gigi – was a blessing. Donna’s house might be temporary, but it might be temporary for longer than she’d ever guessed. Donna had asked her to think of staying at least until the baby was born and she’d had time to recover. And she just might.
Iris was somewhere warm and comfortable and safe. Not having to worry so much had an incalculable effect: she hadn’t realized how perpetually preoccupied she had been.
Work knew about the baby. She knew maternity-employment rules back to front, of course. How many pregnant women had crossed her desk in the time she’d been working in HR? How strange to be one. There’d been the odd raised eyebrow, and half-asked question. But, manners or laws, or more likely both, had prevented either going any further. She had a plan, and there was huge comfort in that. She was going to take the full year of maternity leave. A whole year with the baby. A whole year to make the next plan.
And she’d done it all without Sean. If she was totally honest, she’d done it all without even thinking that much about Sean. She didn’t know if he’d broken the spell with what he’d said that night in the flat, or whether, if she was honest, she’d never been under the spell in the first place …
On the way over to meet Sean, she wondered how she wanted him to react to her. Would his face cloud over with concern? His hand reach instinctively for her new belly? His voice promise she wouldn’t have to go through it alone?
How much would he want to be involved? Would he want to contribute? Participate? Co-parent from the front row of nativity plays and recorder recitals?
She already knew it was too late for all of that. She just didn’t know whether he did.
She s
tood up when he came in, so he could see her in profile, her hands clasped under the bump, like starlets on red carpets did it. Whatever she’d said in the changing room with Holly, she was quite proud of this belly.
He didn’t reach, but he stared, his eyes wide, for a moment before his gaze travelled to her face. ‘Wow. Hi.’
He kissed her, an awkward dry peck on the cheek, his hand on her arm. Sat down opposite her. That funny thing happened – she looked at him and couldn’t remember feeling desperate about him. Then a funnier thing happened. Oliver Gilbert’s face superimposed itself over Sean’s, just for a second, smiling that warm, broad smile, where Sean was so earnest and thin-lipped. Tess blinked, and he was gone, leaving her wondering what the hell that had been.
The waiter came over, and Sean ordered a Martini. She asked for another glass of sparkling water.
‘How are you?’
‘I’m well.’
‘And …’ He gestured at her stomach, but couldn’t form a sensible sentence. And she knew then that she wouldn’t tell him, if he couldn’t ask. She wouldn’t tell him the baby was a girl, or that she had to have the stitch.
‘We’re fine.’ She put her hands protectively across herself.
‘Good. Good.’ He gave a small, curt nod.
‘How was New York?’
He looked so nervous. There were beads of sweat in his hairline. He rubbed at them fiercely. ‘It’s brilliant. Amazing.’
‘Everything you’d hoped?’
He nodded again. ‘Yes.’
‘I’m glad.’
‘Are you?’ He looked at her sharply.
‘Don’t, Sean.’
‘I’m sorry. I’m incredibly nervous. This is … odd.’
‘Look, Sean. It’s okay. It’s okay. You’re off the hook.’
The waiter came with their drinks. Once upon a time, they’d have clinked glasses and toasted something.
‘What if I don’t want to be off the hook?’ She didn’t like the petulance in his voice.
‘Well, don’t you?’
There was a long pause.
‘It’s my baby, Tess.’ Which wasn’t exactly an answer.
‘But I’m saying you don’t have to be involved.’
‘It’s my baby. It will always be my baby. There is always going to be this child walking around, and it’s going to be mine.’ Tess almost flinched at the ‘it’. She realized he might not know that she even knew at this point. She hadn’t known about the timings, had she, before she’d studied the internet and the baby book. ‘Are you saying I can’t be involved?’
‘No. Of course not. I’m saying you’re not under any obligation.’
‘Bloody hell, Tess.’
‘To me. I’m saying I’m not looking to you for anything. Not for money. Not for weekend parenting. I can do this on my own. That’s what I’m going to do. You’re off the hook.’
Another long pause. Tess stared down at her hands on the table. Sean middle-distanced.
‘Don’t you want my help? My involvement?’
She didn’t answer right away.
‘It sounds like you don’t …’
‘I don’t need it.’
He recognized the subtle difference.
‘And you don’t want it?’
Before he spoke again, he sat forward on his haunches and put his face in his hands, rubbing it in exasperation. ‘I’d think I was an asshole.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘If I heard about someone like me just walking away from something like this, from someone like you, then I’d think he was an asshole.’
She didn’t answer.
‘See?’
Tess shook her head. ‘I did think so, at the beginning. I can admit that. You can admit it too, if you’re honest with yourself. What you said was a shitty thing to say. I don’t think I’ll ever properly forgive you for what you suggested.’
‘I’m sorry. I was –’
She waved away his apology. There was nothing he could say that would unsay that. He couldn’t know how it had felt to hear it. Or how it felt to be her now. He couldn’t know, because if he had the slightest inkling of how it felt to be her, to be carrying this baby, he could never have thought it, let alone have said it.
‘But I’ve had time to think about it. Really think. Separate out the feelings and stick to the facts. I got pregnant, Sean. It was an accident. Neither of us was planning on it. I wanted the baby. You didn’t. That’s the bottom line, isn’t it? You can’t help how you feel.
‘And the real truth, the real reason it has to be this way, is that if you’d wanted me enough, if you’d loved me enough, the timing would have been something you’d have got past. It would have been a story we’d tell our baby on its eighteenth birthday. It would have been the future you’d wanted, deep down, and it would have been okay that it was all topsy-turvy and not in the plan.’
‘Tess –’
She put her hand up to stop him. ‘And the other inexorable truth, Sean, is that if I’d wanted you enough, if I’d loved you enough, I could have forgiven what you said in shock. I could have.’
‘What are you saying?’
She took a deep breath and thought of Donna, and Harry, and then said what she’d barely even rolled around in her head, let alone said in a sentence. Quietly at first. Almost to herself. ‘You’re not the one. You’re the father of this baby, but you’re not the one. Not the one I’m supposed to be with. You’re not the love of my life and I’m not the love of yours.’
‘How do you know that?’
She smiled sadly at him. ‘I just know. If we were, this would be so much simpler. This would be easy … I just know, and you’ll know too.’
Later, she sat on the bus heading home, her arms crossed protectively over her bump. They’d parted more in sadness than anything else. They’d left the door open, said that they could iron out details later. She wondered what he’d want. She wondered how they’d make it work. She whispered an apology and a promise to the baby that, whatever it was, however he wanted to fit into her life, and the baby’s life, that she’d make it work better than Donna and Harry had made it work for her. Because she’d worked it out sooner.
She was calm and collected by the time she got home. She hadn’t realized how much she’d been dreading seeing him, and, now that it was done, now that she’d been more honest than she had even thought she knew how to be, things seemed clearer and simpler. Until she got into bed and curled up, a pillow wedged under her side so she could get comfortable, and remembered imagining Oliver’s face when she looked at Sean.
Tess
It was Holly who came with her to the hospital. She’d almost, almost asked Donna to take her instead. Felt a moment of shyness, a flicker of fear at risking the fragile new closeness between them. If a shadow of disappointment had briefly crossed Donna’s face when she’d left, she’d disguised it quickly, given her a brief hug, said she’d wait to hear. Then pulled her back into her arms and kissed her cheek.
‘Talk to me about you. It’s all about me just now. I’m the worst friend. What’s going on with you?’ Tess asked.
‘You’re not. Don’t be daft.’
‘Still. Distract me. I’m starving hungry and nervous as all hell.’
The procedure was going to be done under a local, spinal anaesthetic. She’d been told not to eat after midnight, and it was 10.30 a.m. now. She was in a ward, in a backless gown, hooked up to an IV. They’d performed an ultrasound, so she’d heard the baby’s heartbeat, strong and steady, but her own felt fluttery and too fast. Nerves. Holly’s eyes had filled with tears when she’d heard the baby. She’d grasped Tess’s hand tightly and kissed her forehead. ‘That’s amazing. That’s your baby.’ Tess realized how much she’d missed having her there for the last scan.
The obstetrician had stopped by to explain the process again and to ask if Tess had any questions.
But now they’d all gone away, except Holly, and she was waiting to be wheeled down for th
e stitch itself. They’d put the spinal in there, but she still had to go on a gurney, they had told her. Just as well, with her arse hanging out, Holly had said. God, how Tess loved her.
‘So distract me with your life. How’s Dulcie? I haven’t seen her in ages.’
Holly grimaced. ‘Ask me about anyone but Dulcie.’
‘Why?’
‘Because you’re having a girl, and I don’t want to scare you.’
‘You already are. A bit. What’s going on with Dulcie?’
‘Oh, Christ, Tess – girls are horrid.’
‘What’s happened?’
‘I almost can’t bear to talk about it. It’s so stupid –’
‘So tell me.’
‘You don’t want to hear about this now.’
‘Now is exactly when I want to hear about this. Please …’
‘Okay. So there’s this boy who really likes her. Jake. She liked him back, I knew she did. But this friend – this frenemy, more like – of hers, some queen bee, you know the kind, she liked him too. Nothing has ever happened between the two of them, by the way. She warned Dulcie off. So for weeks and weeks – months even, Dulcie’s been giving this boy the brush off so she doesn’t upset this girl, and he doesn’t get it, right, because he knows, really, that she likes him too.’
‘Okay …’
‘So eventually the guy confronts her about it, wanting to know why she won’t give him a chance, you know, and she tells him this other girl likes him, and that’s why she won’t go out with him. And because he’s a boy and boys aren’t so … so bloody ridiculous, he goes to this other girl and tells her he isn’t interested in her, that he’s interested in Dulcie.’
‘Good for him. I like the sound of him.’
‘Except now this other girl is waging a total war on Dulcie. She’s telling everyone Dulcie’s gone behind her back and got with this guy even though she knows she really likes him – you know, like it’s some major betrayal or breaking the girl code, or whatever. Making out they’ve been friends for years, and that Dulcie has no loyalty.’
Love, Iris Page 29
