by Della Galton
None of this now appealed. Why was every series in the world about bloody families anyway? Families and babies – always babies. No way could she sit and watch happy families on screen when her own happy family was still a distant dream.
There was still another hour or so of light. Changing quickly into her running kit, Olivia let herself out of the front door again and set off in the direction of Weymouth Quay. Running settled her mind.
She crossed Town Bridge, still with no firm idea of where she was headed, and then realised about five minutes later that she was close to the start of the Rodwell Trail.
The Rodwell Trail had once been part of an old railway track but was now a section of the South West Coast Path. It wasn’t a long trail – half an hour or so from beginning to end. It started in Weymouth and ended at Wyke Regis, but it was another of Olivia’s favourite places to run and the nearest access to it was only ten minutes or so from her house.
As Olivia ran down the stone steps onto the trail, she had the wonderful sensation that she was leaving behind the noise and the traffic fumes and joining a peaceful oasis of green. Trees and evergreen bushes lined either side of the tarmac path. There was new growth everywhere as spring had emerged in a riot of buds and green shoots. Now and then, between the trees, she saw the almost incandescent blue of bluebells clustered together in a vibrant dusting of colour. They would be gone soon, but right now it was as if they were having one last glorious burst of colour. An encore of bluebells before they bowed out once more until next year.
On one side of the trail, the long back gardens of houses stretched down to the path, and on the other, it was possible to see the navy-blue sea through gaps in the trees. This path never went far from the sea. Olivia could smell its salt freshness as she ran. There weren’t many people about – a lad with dreadlocks, on a cycle, passed her and a teenager plugged into earbuds didn’t look her way. She relished the freedom of being part of the great outdoors, but also entirely separate from it, in her own little protected bubble.
Olivia didn’t pause for breath until she reached the Rodwell Trail exit, by Sandsfoot Gardens; a subtropical garden created by Weymouth Town Council. The gardens overlooked the ruins of Sandsfoot Castle, which in turn overlooked Portland harbour. There wasn’t a lot of it left now, but apparently the castle had been built by Henry the Eighth in 1539 to protect his kingdom from foreign invasion.
Then she did pause, because she couldn’t resist the walk down through the gardens between the palm trees which stood like sentries on the regimented square lawns that contained regimented square flowerbeds, which right now were bursting with flowers; blue, yellow and white, the various scents of which mingled with those of the sea.
There were railings at the bottom, so there was no direct access to the castle, although you could go down onto the grass and have a closer look if you wished. There were more railings keeping the public out of the potentially dangerous bits. Not quite enough of a deterrent to put off determined teenagers, if the squashed and empty beer cans further in were anything to go by.
Olivia stayed up on the viewpoint, her hands resting on the railings, and looked past the castle, out to the sea which was calm beneath a lilac sky. Had Tom really come to her house and asked her if she’d consider taking him back? The events of the previous hour seemed a bit dreamlike and surreal.
The total arrogance of the man – just turning up out of the blue after more than a year of silence. Except that he hadn’t seemed arrogant at all. He’d been a much quieter and gentler Tom than she remembered.
There was absolutely no way she would go back to Tom. For a start, she was totally happy with Phil. She was in love with him. Her hands felt sweaty on the railings. Was she in love with Phil? She had thought that she was – even though neither of them had ever said the words. They had just spent the loveliest year together – Phil was amazing. They had so much in common.
‘I can’t have children.’
The line popped into her head.
Phil was supportive, funny, kind, thoughtful and he got on brilliantly with her family.
‘I can’t have children.’
He was gorgeous, perceptive, and as independent and autonomous as she was.
‘I can’t have children.’
They wanted the same things from life. They were easy together and yet still he made her heart race when they touched. Their honeymoon period felt as new and as fresh as it had on the first day they’d kissed.
‘I can’t have children.’
She wanted to spend her life with Phil.
Did she? Or had it just been a lovely year? An interlude.
‘I can’t have children.’
She had once planned to spend her life with Tom. She did know that. She had never thought there would be anyone she’d love more than Tom. They’d planned a future together. Then he’d brought down her world when he’d said that he didn’t want children. The life that had felt so rock solid and secure had crumbled into ruins, like the castle in front of her, along with all of her future hopes and dreams.
She remembered the gorgeous engagement ring she’d hurled back at him. Her one outburst of pain and anger. It had bounced off his chest and tinged as it hit a radiator and dropped onto the kitchen floor. She remembered how he’d reached quickly to get it, scooping it up and putting it in his pocket, and the disgust she’d felt at his haste.
And now, he’d had the audacity to swing back into her life and promise her everything could be resurrected again. He’d promised her the world. The babies and the big house on the cliffs she’d always dreamed of, where the whole family could come. He knew all the right buttons to press.
Olivia felt an almost physical pain go through her. Tom knew exactly how to hook her back in.
But, oh God, what if it was all true? There had been something about him that had been entirely different. It hadn’t just been contrition but genuine regret. She’d seen it in his eyes and she had felt it. Did she still have feelings for him? Before tonight, she’d have said no – definitely not. Phil was the only man for her.
But what if Phil wasn’t in her life? For a brief moment, she allowed herself to imagine a scenario where she hadn’t met Phil. Would she have been tempted by Tom’s offer in these circumstances?
A sea breeze sneaked in under her plait, drying the sweat on her neck and shoulders and she shivered. She’d been standing still too long. She could feel the lactic acid building in her calves. It was time to get moving again.
She retraced her steps back up to the Rodwell Trail. Did she still have feelings for Tom? Even if she did, would she ever be able to fully trust him again? She realised that she had no idea of the answer to either of these questions as she set off in the direction of home.
21
‘I can’t believe he had the audacity to turn up at your house,’ was Ruby’s response when Olivia saw her a couple of days later.
It was the weekend and they’d taken to snatching a coffee on a Saturday afternoon if Olivia was out and about, which she often was on Saturdays, either delivering cakes or meeting clients who’d requested tasting sessions.
Right now, Ruby and Olivia were in a Costa Coffee in town because Ruby had plans to go and do some shopping.
Olivia took a sip of her latte. ‘He’d texted me a couple of times first. But I didn’t answer. I should have known that wouldn’t put him off. Tom’s never been the type to take no for an answer. That’s why he’s such a good salesman.’ She was still trying to decide whether she felt resentment towards him or forgiveness. She seemed to swing back and forth between the two.
‘So, tell me again what he said? Exactly?’
‘He said that he’d realised he’d make a mistake about letting me go.’
‘Which he didn’t,’ Ruby corrected. ‘You dumped him.’
‘Yes. That’s what I told him, but anyway, the main thrust of it was that he’s realised he does want a family now. Something happened in Spain apparently that made him change his m
ind. He didn’t tell me what.’
‘He probably got dumped by the girl he went out there with.’ Ruby’s eyes flashed with indignation.
‘I wondered that too,’ Olivia said, ‘but, actually, I’m not sure it was that. He mentioned a Spanish family he’d got involved with. I think something happened with them. Anyway, to give him his due, he did seem different. He was quite unsure of himself.’
‘I hope you didn’t fall for it,’ Ruby said gently. ‘Remember how much he hurt you before.’
‘Yes, I remember it very well.’ She paused, drumming her fingers lightly on the table. ‘Ruby, do you think I was on the rebound when I met Phil?’
Ruby’s face stilled and for a moment she didn’t reply. When she did, her voice was considered and thoughtful. ‘I did think that maybe you were, but only because you’d been with Tom for such a long time and it was very soon after.’ She stirred the ginger tea she’d swapped for chamomile since discovering it helped with morning sickness, and dropped her gaze before meeting Olivia’s eyes again. ‘But so what if you were on the rebound. That doesn’t mean that you and Phil aren’t right for each other, does it? Wasn’t he seeing someone too when you met?’
‘Yes and no. He was involved in that dating show that was being filmed at The Bluebell. He barely knew the woman. I don’t think they even got past the flirting stage.’
‘Are you and Phil OK?’ she asked, giving her a concerned look.
‘I think so.’
‘I’m sensing a but…’ Ruby reached across the table and Olivia felt her fingers rest lightly on hers before her sister went on in her inimitable, straight-to-the-point Ruby style. ‘It’s the baby thing, isn’t it? You and Phil have an uncertain road ahead of you, family wise, and then your ex rocks up saying that he’s ready for kids – and all you have to do is say yes and he’ll whisk you off to his kiddie-friendly castle and impregnate you. Hang on a minute. Does he know you’re seeing Phil?’
‘Yes, he does.’ Olivia could feel her eyes filling up with tears. Ruby was so spot on in that description.
‘Oh honey, no wonder you’re questioning everything. Well, if you ask me, that rat Tom has just decided he wants you back because you’re happy with someone else and his ego can’t handle it. He also knows exactly what to say to get you back. Please don’t tell me you’re considering it?’
‘I’m not. I’m really not.’ She wasn’t 100 per cent sure this was true. She couldn’t deny she’d had moments of doubt. Maybe she was in denial.
‘Good. Because if he can hurt you once so absolutely devastatingly, then he can definitely do it again.’
‘I know,’ Olivia said. ‘You are preaching to the converted.’
‘Good.’ Ruby drained her ginger tea. ‘I like Phil. He’s lovely.’
‘He is lovely.’ There was a little pause. Olivia didn’t want to tell her sister that she and Phil had come to another stalemate on the having a family front.
But Ruby wasn’t stupid. ‘What is the score with Phil anyway? Has he looked into having any tests? Why can’t he have kids?’
‘We haven’t talked about it again.’ Olivia swallowed. ‘I think he might be avoiding me. He’s been really busy at work and hasn’t had much time. Mind you, he’s not the only one.’
Ruby’s eyes softened and Olivia felt an unbearable ache. ‘Do you think we can change the subject?’
Her sister nodded. The coffee house had become crowded and a waitress was wiping down a table behind them for a waiting couple.
‘Let’s talk about you,’ Olivia said. ‘How are you feeling about everything?’ She spread her hands in a question.
‘Physically, much better – thanks to ginger tea. It’s the one thing I’ve found that really helps with the morning sickness. And emotionally much better too. I know it’s going to be tough being a single parent, but I also know that I can do it. Even if it does mean I have to grow up fast.’
‘You’ve always been grown up,’ Olivia said. ‘Look at you. You’re a massively successful art dealer. You’re independent, with a gorgeous house and very little mortgage. You’re doing stuff that takes most people decades to achieve.’
‘That’s not the same as being grown up,’ Ruby said. ‘It just means I’ve got the gift of the gab; I’ve got a good eye for art and I can talk very rich people into parting with huge amounts of their money.’
‘Did you sell the virgin mother and baby painting?’
‘I did. For a handsome profit.’ Her eyes sparkled with merriment.
‘Do you ever miss doing the actual painting?’ Olivia asked.
‘Doing what I’m trained for, you mean?’ Ruby’s eyes clouded briefly and for a moment Olivia sensed sadness in her.
‘Yes, I do actually. Sometimes I feel as though I’ve got involved with the dirty end of the business. The artist is the only pure one. They’re the guys with the soul. The collectors, and in some cases the dealers too, just make obscene amounts of money from a product they don’t much care for.’ She paused. ‘Take that client in New York I was talking to the other day – he’s a classic example. Eight years ago, he gave me six million and sent me off to buy paintings for his collection. He didn’t even want to see the work. Every single one of those paintings is in storage, packed up and locked in a vault. All he will do is sit and wait for them to go up in value. The only thing he’s interested in is the profit he’s making.’
‘Wow. So you mean people buy great art and don’t even put it on the wall?’
‘Correct. Although sometimes they will hire pieces out to museums. Or galleries.’ She waved a hand. ‘Then at least the art is still available for people to see – I much prefer to do that than hide it away.’
‘It’s a different world,’ Olivia said. She had always known it was, but it felt weird sitting here listening to the actual reality of it all.
‘Enough of that. I’m beginning to depress myself. What are you up to now?’
‘I’m heading home via the supermarket for supplies. Why? What are you up to?’
‘Well. This may be spectacularly bad timing and totally tactless, but I’m about to go to that flash new mum and baby shop in the high street. Do you fancy coming along with me?’
‘Of course I do,’ Olivia said. ‘I can buy him or her a present. I can’t think of anything I’d like better.’
Ten minutes later, they were browsing the rails of baby clothes in JoJo Maman Bébé. Ruby held up a pair of navy, giraffe-print baby dungarees. ‘Aren’t these the cutest things you’ve ever seen?’
‘They are utterly gorgeous,’ Olivia said, picking up a Peter Rabbit comfort blanket and touching its softness to her face. ‘I remember when you had one of these. It wasn’t a rabbit – was it a kangaroo?’
‘That’s right, it was. I think I kept it until I was about ten, didn’t I? I would have kept it longer, but Mum managed to spirit it away. She said it was falling apart. I was really upset when I couldn’t find it.’
‘Mothers have a lot to answer for.’
‘Yes,’ Ruby said, unconsciously touching her tummy. She had a little baby bump now. She glanced across at Olivia. ‘Are you OK being in here? I mean, really, OK?’
‘I’m fine. I really am,’ Olivia told her. It was funny, but the initial pangs of envy she’d had when Ruby had told her she was pregnant had morphed into a feeling of huge protectiveness. ‘It used to sting quite a bit when I saw a woman my age, or younger, pushing a buggy down the street,’ she added, ‘or obviously pregnant. I even envied the way they walked. That proud, pregnancy waddle. But weirdly, I don’t feel like that with you. Perhaps it’s because we’re related and I know I’m going to be part of this little one’s life. No matter what happens.’
‘You certainly are. ‘You’re going to be my number-one babysitter.’
‘I thought that was Mum.’
‘OK, my backup babysitter. Because Mum is going to have a lot more time. She’s still intent that she’s giving up work in October and she’s moving back into the house perm
anently. I’m not sure whether to be grateful or worried.’
‘A bit of both, I suspect,’ Olivia said as Ruby picked up a duck-embroidered baby sleepsuit and another lemon-coloured romper suit and a little hat. ‘Oh my God, here’s a kangaroo teether. I have got to buy that. It must be fate.’
‘And I’m getting the Peter Rabbit comfort blanket,’ Olivia said. ‘My very first present to my new niece or nephew.’
‘I thought that might be a cake,’ Ruby said hopefully. ‘With a teddy bear made out of chocolate icing like the ones I’ve seen on your website.’
‘You can have one of those as well if you like? Although something tells me that’s a present for you, not the little one who won’t have any teeth. Unless we’re talking when he or she is six months old, are we?’
Ruby had the grace to blush. ‘OK, it’s for me. But as I’ll be breastfeeding, it is kind of for baby too.’ She touched her tummy. ‘I think it might actually be a girl by the way. I have this feeling.’
A young woman who was in the shop, with a double buggy, glanced across at them. ‘I was convinced I was having a girl when I was first expecting,’ she said, dropping her gaze to the buggy. ‘Look what I ended up with.’ She pulled back the hood and Ruby and Olivia moved across for a closer look. ‘Twin boys!’
The two babies were asleep and one of them snuffled and stretched out a small fist.
‘Gorgeous,’ said Ruby.
‘Particularly when they’re asleep,’ said their mother with a fond look at her children.
‘I guess all new mums say that,’ Olivia murmured.
‘And new aunties,’ Ruby said when they’d paid for their purchases and were outside again.
They hugged each other briefly before walking back to their respective cars together.
‘You’re not going to make any rash decisions about Tom, are you?’ Ruby asked, just before they went their separate ways.
‘No, of course I’m not.’
After Ruby had pulled away in her SUV, Olivia sat for a little while in her car, thinking. On her lap was the Peter Rabbit comfort blanket, still in its bag, wrapped in almond-coloured tissue paper. She undid the tissue paper carefully and held the comfort blanket to her face. It smelled of newness and faux fur.
