At five forty-five I set off in the car. I passed Freddy by the church, wheeling Ivy home in her pushchair. I pulled over and wound down the window.
‘Will you be home for dinner?’ Freddy asked. With Pearl away, we had adopted the habit of eating together in the kitchen.
‘I don’t know,’ I replied.
‘Okay. I’ll see if JJ wants to share a take-away.’
Freddy and JJ had formed an unlikely allegiance. JJ was also working seven days a week. He was back on the marina, selling off as much stock as possible. He seemed suitably humbled, a different man. Perhaps he had come to his own conclusions about Gerald Kimble.
‘Maybe you could try cooking something?’ I suggested before driving on.
The car park outside Aidan’s workshop was occupied by a large white Audi. The driver had his head bent over a book. The passenger seat was empty.
Nick sat on one of his old deckchairs waiting for me, a pale-faced, clean-shaven Nick, with short, neat hair, speckled with grey. He struggled to stand up when he saw me approach. I broke into a run, nearly knocking him over as I flew into his arms.
‘Careful,’ he half-laughed, half-winced. ‘I’m not quite as strong as I used to be, Becs.’
‘Does it still hurt?’ I asked, momentarily drawing back and glancing down at his leg. I noticed the stick propped by the side of his seat.
‘Not now you’re here,’ he smiled. He buried his face in my hair, brushed his mouth across my lips. ‘This feels so good,’ he said. We held each other as tight as we dared.
‘I was so worried about you,’ I said, the emotional impact of the last couple of months finally finding its release in a flood of tears.
He kissed them away. ‘I’m so sorry. It’s a hazard of the job, I suppose, getting shot.’
‘I’ve bought wine,’ I told him, finally breaking away to retrieve the bottle I’d stolen from Jack’s secret supply in the boot room fridge.
He shook his head with a look of regret. ‘I can’t drink. I’m on too many pain-killers.’
‘I can’t drink either,’ I said, putting the bottle of wine down on the deck.
‘Oh? That’s not like you, Becca, what’s up?’
I took a deep breath. ‘Sit down, Nick.’ There was no easy way to say what I was going to say, and I needed to say it before I chickened out. He stumbled back into his canvas chair while I took the one opposite. I leaned across and took hold of his hand.
‘You’re not going to believe this, Nick, but I’m pregnant.’
His mouth dropped. ‘Becca, that’s not funny. You’re joking, right?’
I shook my head. ‘No. A night of unprotected spontaneous sex has its consequences. It was totally irresponsible of us, both of us. And Freddy will have a field day when he gets to hear about this, considering the lecture I gave him when he told me about Ruby.’
‘Yeah, but they’re a couple of teenagers. They’re allowed to be irresponsible.’
‘Freddy is not a teenager.’
‘Yes, but at your age, we knew the chances were slim.’
‘What? You think all women of thirty-nine are over the hill and can’t get pregnant?’
‘It was what I was banking on,’ Nick replied, his face inscrutable. ‘Are you sure?’
‘Oh yes. I’ve done a test. In fact, I’ve done several tests.’
His eyes travelled down my body to my stomach. ‘God, I wasn’t expecting this,’ he said.
‘Well, neither was I, frankly. But I am expecting Nick. We are expecting.’
He broke into a smile. ‘Oh, wow. Well, that’s amazing. That’s fantastic.’
‘Is it?’
‘Yes! Of course it is.’ He let out a long breath. ‘I never thought I’d have a family. I’d given up thinking about it, to be honest. That’s just wonderful news. This is the best family emergency ever.’ He leaned back in his chair, his face a picture of astonished bliss.
‘You’re pleased?’ I said hesitantly, trying to suppress a goofy grin but failing miserably.
‘I’m over the moon,’ he replied. ‘Oh Becs. Right,’ he leaned forward again and squeezed my knee, ‘I was going to save this for another day, but I might as well say it now anyway. Let’s go for a walk.’
I helped him up.
‘The thing is,’ he began, as we walked slowly along the path away from the wharf towards the marsh. ‘I’m retiring. This case was always going to be my last. I can’t carry on working now anyway. My wound turned septic and there were all sorts of complications. It’ll take ages to get my fitness back and, if I’m honest, I’m just sick of the whole business. I’ve had enough. I’ll receive a full pension with all the benefits. I’ll get a lump sum, plus additional payments for being injured in the line of duty.’
‘Goodness me, I thought for one minute you were going to say something romantic,’ I teased. ‘This is starting to sound like another proposal.’
‘That’s because it is,’ he said. ‘It is another proposal.’ He came to an abrupt halt. ‘I want to finish what we started fifteen years ago.’
Now I was the one faced with the totally unexpected. My stomach flipped over in excitement. I’d hoped for a pledge of support, but I hadn’t anticipated a total commitment. ‘Are you serious?’
‘Totally,’ he nodded. ‘Obviously, your news has expedited the situation, and although I’d love to marry you tomorrow, I can’t. We can’t, not until this case has come to court. I’ll warn you now, it could be months, but as soon as the court case is over, and I’m out of the force and living a quiet life well away from Rivermede, then we can get married.’
‘Away from Rivermede?’
‘Yeah, I was thinking I might buy my own boat. I thought about taking some sailing lessons and seeing a bit of the world. Kerridge has whetted my appetite. What do you think?’
‘Um, I’m not much of a sailor really, Nick, and it wouldn’t really be very practical with a baby, would it?’
‘Oh yes, the baby. Of course, when I came up with that idea, I didn’t know about him, or her,’ he added quickly. ‘I suppose travelling around the world isn’t an option any more. And I suppose you’d probably prefer to stay here, too, close to Pearl and Freddy, especially now that he has his own baby?’
‘Oh, it’s not that. Mum has Jack now and Freddy is all grown up. He can manage Ivy. They don’t need me.’ I was free, and the idea of Nick and I being together at last, was making me reckless. I’d spent too many years not daring to dive beneath the surface, but now I was braver and ready to take the plunge. ‘Nick, about Freddy…’
He put his finger to my lips to stop me. ‘Shush. I love you, Rebecca. You, the whole package. Freddy, Pearl, they’re your family. They’re part of you and they make you who you are. They make you complete. You wouldn’t be the woman I love without them.’
‘But you saved his life, Nick. Words can’t express my gratitude.’
‘I don’t need your words,’ he said. ‘I know what Freddy means to you and, believe or not, he means an awful lot to me, too, Becca.’
And then, on the path in the middle of the marsh, amongst the reed beds and the dirty brown rivulets of the estuary, he lowered himself painfully down onto one knee. ‘Let’s do this properly,’ he said. ‘I love you. I love you with all my heart, and I’ll always love you. I want you to be my wife, regardless of your madcap family and this crazy place we find ourselves in. I want to have you, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish. Will you marry me?’
I didn’t hesitate to answer. ‘Yes,’ I said. ‘Yes, oh yes please, please let’s get married, but can we do it very quietly? Just me, you, and a couple of witnesses?’
Nick laughed as I helped him to his feet. ‘You mean you don’t want a marquee on the lawn, a choir, doves, and an entire sailing fleet?’
I shook my head as he took me in his arms again. ‘No, Nick,’ I said, immersing myself in the warmth of his body pressing ha
rd against mine. ‘I only want you, although I might want the fireworks afterwards.’
‘It will be my pleasure,’ Nick said, ‘to provide the fireworks.’
We stood wrapped in each other for some time. Eventually, Nick broke away. ‘Seriously, Becs, I need to be honest with you. We have to keep this quiet, okay?’ He placed his hand on my stomach. ‘We might not even be able to get married until after this little one comes along.’
‘That’s fine. We do single parenting quite well in our family,’ I assured him.
‘Yes,’ he smiled. ‘You do. You do it very well, and I know I’m leaving this little one in very safe hands, but you won’t be a single parent. We’re doing this together and it will work out. I will keep my promise to you.’
‘It’s fine, Nick,’ I assured him. ‘I can wait.’ And I would wait, for as long as it took, because I trusted him. Implicitly.
We turned back towards The Solstice. ‘Will you have time to come back to the stable block tonight with me, to practise the fireworks?’ I asked.
‘I was worried you might say that,’ he replied. ‘I’d love to, but I’m not totally convinced I’m up to it, and what do we do with Q?’
‘Give him the key to the boat?’ I suggested.
Nick shook his head. ‘The police cleaned it out. There’s nothing on it. Stella can re-let it, or maybe I’ll ask her if she wants to sell it to us? I liked hanging out here, pretending to be a writer. In fact, I reckon I’ve got a few stories to tell. I’ve spent the last twenty years fighting international crime all over the world, although I’d probably need to engage some sort of professional to polish my books off for me.’
‘I quite fancied hanging out on The Solstice, too,’ I told him. ‘Are you only marrying me to save paying my ghost-writing fees?’
‘No, I’m marrying you because I love you, Becs,’ he said, squeezing my hand.
‘Perhaps we could smuggle Q into Rivermede?’ I suggested.
‘It wouldn’t be the first time smugglers have used Rivermede,’ Nick agreed.
‘Are you serious, about this book writing thing?’ I asked.
‘Why not? Would you help me?’
‘I’d love to,’ I laughed. ‘My Husband, The Ace Detective. Pearl will be so pleased.’
Epilogue
Pearl
‘Goodness me,’ Pearl said, rolling over and reaching for her mobile phone. ‘Who on earth is calling at this hour? Don’t they know what time it is?’
Beside her, Jack grunted. The Majestic Oceans had just docked in Singapore. Tomorrow, they would begin their long journey back to Rivermede, and Pearl was actually wondering, with all the fuss that had gone over the last few weeks, if she could possibly broach the subject of buying a little place in London. By the time she’d put aside a lump sum each for Becca and Freddy, she still had money in the bank from the sale of Beech Mews; more than enough for a bijou pied-a-terre. The marina was already under offer, and JJ’s half-finished house had to be sold anyway. She and Jack didn’t need to stay at Rivermede any more. Perhaps Jack could sell off the entire estate, apart from the stable block. Then they could have their main house in London and a holiday home on the river.
As much as she had enjoyed her coastal sojourn, Pearl was missing the city. The constant smell of rank mud, the wafting aroma of dried seaweed, it wasn’t to everyone’s taste. Plus, Sunday morning lie-ins disturbed by the clanking of rigging and the whine of a jet ski. Battersea had been an oasis of calm and civility in comparison; sitting in the village square with croissants and coffee…
In London, surely they would be able to find a surgeon prepared to do something with Jack’s dodgy hip? Jack may have resigned himself to never dancing the tango again, but Pearl hadn’t. She knew Jack well enough by now. He suffered his crumbling joint like a penance; he’d forced Mary into a loveless marriage, and this was the cross he had to bear. Ridiculous. Nobody was forced to marry anyone in the 1970s; it was a time of freedom and liberation, and it appeared Mary Dimmock had been very liberal indeed. She’d married Jack because she knew he’d provide her with a home and be a good father to the child she already carried. Who wouldn’t choose Jack over Gerald Kimble?
Jack was drowning in a quagmire of self-pity and regret. Pearl needed to get him away from Rivermede and all its memories. She’d heard of women like Mary before. Charity didn’t begin at home, it began in everyone else’s; a kind heart and an insatiable sexual appetite. Goodwill wasn’t the only thing Mary had spread around Kerridge, if Dolly Hathaway at the gardening club was to be believed. Dolly used to volunteer at the county hospital, when such a thing existed, and had fond memories of her time on service at the STD clinic. Mary Robshaw had been a regular visitor.
Now what would I call that book? Pearl thought. She felt invigorated. Time away on the cruise had given her a whole bevy of new ideas. She’d missed this, the tossing and turning at night, planning scenes, creating conversations. Her characters kept her awake, reciting their lines. She’d already began to jot down some notes on her iPad. Becca would be proud of her. Pearl hadn’t thought she’d actually miss writing, but she did, and the social scene that came with it. As much as she’d enjoyed participating in village life, she didn’t feel totally accepted by the hierarchy of the WI, and she’d never got the hang of bridge. Becca would enjoy being back in the thick of things, too. There would be so much more to do in the city.
Of course, there was Freddy and the dilemma of what to do about him and Ivy, bless her little heart, but Freddy had grown up a lot in the last few weeks. Amazingly, his marine artwork had taken off; it was even possible he could actually make a bit of a name for himself. For the first time in the entire twenty-one years since his birth, Pearl felt proud of her son. It had taken a long time to get there. She loved Freddy with all her heart, but he had repelled every maternal move she had ever made. It was almost as if he knew.
In the beginning, Freddy had seemed like her salvation, a beacon of hope at a time of bitter despair. She had conceived by careless accident, her relationship with Dieter already approaching its inevitable end. And then, just as she was beginning to accept the idea of the child growing within her, the results of her final tests and scans had come through. The doctors announced that Dieter’s poor little baby, if it even survived to full-term, would have no quality of life. The decision was hers and only hers to take, but she had listened to the medical advice and made the agonising choice to have a late termination.
And then, as she lay empty and wan in her hospital bed, she’d had to listen while Becca, already recalled from Zurich, made her tearful confession. Becca might just have missed a period, or two, or possibly three, but in fact probably about six – she’d never been very good at keeping account of these things. A boy in the sixth form – and no, she had told no-one. No-one at all. Beneath the layers of baggy jumpers, the firm hard mound in Becca’s stomach was already visible. While she had sobbed apologies and garbled nonsense about giving her baby up, Pearl knew there was only one thing to do.
They had made a pact, mother and daughter.
‘He’s our flesh and blood,’ Pearl said. ‘Neither of us can do this on our own, but together we can make it work.’
And they had, for all those years, sharing Freddy’s care and ensuring Pearl’s career blossomed. They had functioned like a well-oiled machine until Freddy had left home at eighteen, the age when in the natural pattern of evolution, fledglings flew the nest. There had been only one moment in between when Pearl thought Becca might possibly waiver, when she had been about to get married and set up home on her own. But Becca had assured her then she would never dream of taking Freddy from Pearl.
‘You legally adopted him,’ she said. ‘I couldn’t take him, even if I wanted to. And I don’t. He’s yours. He’s my brother, not my son.’
Pearl would have to ensure Ivy was tied to Freddy with the same watertight bonds, in case Ruby ever came back into their lives. She knew how these things worked. You had to make sure everything was
legal.
The phone wasn’t going to stop ringing. She braced herself. She could only imagine it had all gone pear-shaped again. She’d tried to warn Becca against it. Who’d have thought all these years later Nick Quinlan would come back into their lives? Pearl knew trouble when she saw it. Just as well she and Jack would be back in the UK in a few days’ time, providing shoulders to cry on. She only hoped Becca wouldn’t fall into quite so many pieces this time round.
The only good she could see coming out of the whole shambolic mess was another idea for a new book. My Undercover Lover, the tale of a charming but manipulative police detective who seduces an old flame in order to help him crack a case. She’d pitch the idea to Anita as soon as she got home. She was itching to get started.
‘Becca darling, have you any idea what the time it is? I thought we had this rule about not calling after ten?’
There was a pause on the line. Becca sounded unnaturally cheerful for someone who had just been jilted by the same man for the second time.
‘Sorry, Mum, but you’ll never guess what…’
THE END
By the same author:
The Theatre of Dreams
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