Robert said, 'Steady!'
Meg pulled a face at him. 'Old misery!' she charged.
Kirsty began to sing a song about the wheels on a bus that went round and round.
Meg, happy, joined in.
Robert dropped them off at the house.
'I'll be as quick as I can,' he assured Meg.
'Don't worry about that. Just go and see to Sean. Don't worry about us.'
'Thanks, Meg.'
He gave her a smile that warmed her heart. She sighed and shook her head wistfully as she listened to him drive away. How was it that he made her feel so happy?
Then she turned her attention back to Kirsty, who was waiting expectantly in the kitchen. She headed for the bread bin and the fridge. Kirsty, it seemed, was starving.
*
Sean wasn't too good. He was tired and subdued. He managed a smile for Meg, and a quiet hello, but not much more. He didn't even respond to Kirsty's shrill enquiries about his bandaged head. Robert put him to bed.
'He'll be all right?' Meg asked anxiously.
'I think so. He's just tired and over-wrought. Maybe a bit concussed, as well, they said at the hospital. It's been a long day for him, poor lad.'
'For you, too,' she pointed out.
He yawned and glanced at his watch. 'I'm sorry, Meg. It's late. I've been longer than I thought.'
'Doesn't matter.'
'Jamie will be worried to death. Did you call him?'
She shook her head. 'No,' she said. 'But I don't think he'll be worried at all.'
Robert stared at her, and after a moment said, 'What's wrong, Meg?'
'The same thing,' she said with a weary shrug. 'Nothing's changed.'
'He's not gone off again, has he?'
She nodded. 'He's in and out. Here for a while. Then gone again. Drinking more heavily than ever. Lost his job because of it.'
She shrugged and added, 'I haven't seen him at all the last three days.'
'What on earth's wrong with him?' Robert demanded angrily.
She shook her head.
'Does he know about the baby?'
She nodded.
'And it hasn't made any difference?'
'For a day or two it did. While the idea was a novelty.'
Robert slammed his hand down on the table. She jerked her head back with shock.
'Sorry, Meg. It's just ….'
He gave up, shaking his head, perplexed. She knew how he felt.
'I'm glad I've told you,' she said. 'I can't bear having to lie and pretend to everyone all the time. My life should be wonderful. Everyone thinks it is. But it's not.'
'It will be,' he said fiercely. 'Jamie's got to see sense.'
*
She stayed at Robert's a while, and had a cup of coffee with him. There was nothing for her to rush back home for. Even if Jamie had turned up again, she knew what he'd be like. Uninterested in her, or in much else.
'I'm starving,' Robert announced. 'How about some ham and eggs?'
She pulled a face. 'You go ahead,' she told him.
'You must be hungry?'
'I'm more a pasta person.'
'Macaroni cheese?'
She smiled. Why not? She was a bit peckish.
'That would be lovely,' she admitted.
Later, as they ate, Robert said, 'Do you know, I can't remember the last time I ate a meal with another adult. Probably at your mother's, that day. It's good,' he added with a shy smile.
'I know how you feel.'
'Oh, I'm sorry! I didn't think ….'
She waved the apology aside.
'You haven't got used to being on your own, have you?' she asked.
He shrugged. 'I wouldn't say that, exactly. I'm used to it, all right, but I can't say I like it.'
'You must have had a good marriage?' she suggested.
'I suppose we did. We didn't think of it in that way, though. I didn't anyway. It was just… well, ordinary. We were happy enough. Enjoyed life. Loved each other. There were ups and downs, of course, but we'd known each other since we'd started school. We were used to each other. No problems, apart from the usual ones – not enough money, too small a house, too old a car, too near in-laws ….'
He broke off when she laughed. Then he grinned and added, 'That sort of thing. Yes. It was a good marriage. We were happy. But all that came to an end, and there was nothing I could do about it. You and Jamie, though. You've still got a chance.'
Meg wondered if that was still true. Was Robert right? Or was Jenny? Perhaps their happy time was over, too
How much easier it would be if Jamie was more like Robert! How she wished that were possible. Robert was caring and endlessly kind. And he'd loved his wife. That was obvious. He did still. In that respect, at least, she'd been a very lucky woman.
Chapter Thirteen
She surfaced slowly. The sea was deep at that point. Dark blue, fading into black. Beautiful. Absorbing. Mysterious shapes moving all around her. But the alarm bell had startled her. A good thing, too. She was running out of air. Reluctantly, she headed for the surface.
She lay still, gazing at the snowflake patterns on the ceiling made by the street lights shining through the curtains. She smoothed her face with her hands, wiping away the beads of moisture on her forehead. Exciting though it had been, she was relieved to be out of that dream.
Then she frowned as the alarm bell rang again.
Now, though, she knew it was the front-door bell. She got out of bed, moved the curtain slightly aside and peered out into the street. As usual at night, both sides were lined with parked cars. One car, a couple of houses away, had lights on and the engine was running. She couldn't see any other signs of life.
The door bell rang again, making her heart flutter. She glanced at the clock on the bed-side table. It was just after three.
She wasn't sure what to do. She called Jamie's name, but she knew he wasn't there. She went out onto the landing and called again. Still no answer. He wasn't in the house. He hadn't been home for a day or two. She would have to go to the door herself. Whoever was there wasn't going to give up.
She put on a couple of lights and began to make her way downstairs. Halfway there the thought came to her that it might be an emergency with her parents. Something had happened! Something terrible.
She opened the inner door to the hall.
'Who is it?' she called.
'Police officers, madam!' a woman's voice replied. 'We need to speak to you.'
She put the outside light on. Through the narrow glass pane beside the door, she saw two figures in uniform. A man and a woman. The woman stepped up close, announced herself and held up a badge in a folder.
'What's wrong?' Meg asked, opening the door as far as the safety chain would allow. 'What's happened?'
'Mary Anne Armstrong?'
Meg hesitated and then nodded.
'I'm sorry, Mary. We need to speak to you. May we come inside?'
'It's very late,' Meg said, confused, worried.
'I know, dear. But it really is urgent. Please?'
She unlatched the chain, opened the door, turned and led the way into the lounge. She switched on the light. Nobody sat down. The three of them stood around awkwardly. They were too big for that small room. Too close together.
The woman was short and artificially blonde. Forty-ish. She seemed lot older than her colleague, and senior to him. The young police constable smiled but spoke only to confirm his name.
'Mary ….' The woman began.
'Meg.'
'Excuse me?'
'I'm known as Meg, not Mary. Always have been.'
The woman nodded. 'Meg, then. I'm sorry to have to tell you, Meg, but we have bad news. It might be better if you sat down.'
Meg stood quite still, ignoring the suggestion. 'What is it?' she demanded. 'Is it Dad? My mother?'
The woman shook her head. 'Your husband, I'm afraid.'
Meg gasped. Her hand flew to her mouth. She hadn't thought of that possibility.
'Jamie?'
The woman nodded. 'I'm afraid he's dead, Meg. He was killed in a car crash tonight. Last night, I mean. On the A1, in Durham. I'm very sorry, dear.'
Jamie? Dead?
Panic overtook her. She began to gabble questions even as the tears began to flow. Her body lurched with fear and shock. She felt faint. Dizzy. The man caught hold of her and lowered her into a chair. She bounced straight back up and began to cannon between furniture and walls. No, no, no! It couldn't be true.
The craziness passed. The panic subsided, giving way to piercing hurt. And anger. Rage. Then that, too, passed and she was just numb. The woman, the police officer, sat her down on the sofa and spoke to her slowly, calmly. Saying things that for a moment she couldn't hear, never mind understand. Nothing made sense. Her baby! What would she do? Without Jamie!
'All we know, Meg, is that his car left the road not far from Durham City. It was travelling north. It seems to have spun at an intersection and cut across onto the other side of the road. A lorry travelling south hit it head-on.'
Meg stared at her blankly, wanting more, wanting her to keep talking and to tell her it wasn't true, that Jamie would be coming home.
'Your husband was killed instantly. I'm sorry,' the woman added.
Meg's gaze shifted to the floor, as if she might see more sense there.
'Do you know where he'd been?' the woman asked.
Meg shook her head. How could she know that? 'Had he been drinking?' she asked.
The woman hesitated. Then she gave a little nod. 'Probably,' she admitted. 'We believe he had.'
Meg bowed her head. Oh, Jamie! she thought with despair. My poor, dear Jamie. His face filled her eyes, his voice her head. But it was the Jamie from long ago she saw, from when they were first together, first married. The hurt and disappointments from recent times were forgotten.
*
The police officers brought Jenny over to be with her. They couldn't stay but they would return, they said. Meanwhile, here was her friend.
Meg had never been so glad to see Jenny. She clung to her, sobbing. Jenny let her, and said nothing. There was nothing worth saying.
It was a long night. Meg didn't return to bed. She couldn't think of lying down. She just sat, frozen. Jenny made cups of tea and busied herself around the house, doing goodness knew what. Later, Meg heard her talking to her mother on the phone. Later still, her mother arrived. And Dad.
Then, for a while, she wasn't aware of anything that was happening. All she could think of was Jamie. And their baby. What would happen to them all now?
Chapter Fourteen
Meg soon became used to life at Bracken Cottage again. At times, it was as if she had never been away. Everything was so familiar, and so peaceful. Almost too much so. At times she missed the roar of traffic, the screech of tyres as someone took the corner too fast at the end of the street. The street lights, too, that created such patterns on the bedroom ceiling.
At times she even missed Jamie, but not much, if she was honest. Not as much as she would have thought, once she'd got over the shock. It seemed to her now that Jamie had been gone from her long before that terrible night when he died. So what she missed were their first years together. There had been little to delight her in more recent times. Besides, she had more urgent demands on her now.
She stirred herself, climbed out of bed and turned sideways to admire her profile in the mirror. Not long to go now. Some days it was as if the baby was about to tear himself out into the new world, without help from anyone. She smiled. She knew it was a boy. She just knew it.
'How are you this morning, dear?'
She turned, still smiling. 'Fine thanks, Mum. I'll be even better in a week or two's time!'
'Of course you will.'
Mum smiled back and added, ' I remember how fed up I used to get carrying you. Impatient, too, for it to be over. But you were worth it.'
'Thanks, Mum! And so will this little fellow be.'
'Girl, you mean.'
Meg shook her head decisively. 'He's a boy.'
'Do you know from the scan?'
'No. I just know.'
Mum laughed. 'Dad will be pleased. Someone to help dig the garden and build sheds.'
'He might not like gardening. He might want to be a rocket scientist.'
'Whatever. Your father will make the adjustment. He'll have to, won't he?'
Meg nodded happily.
*
She was right: James! He was born right on time in the maternity hospital in Alnwick. She named him after his father, feeling that was the right thing to do. He was Jamie's continuing stake in the world.
At 8lbs 4 ozs James was a big boy from the start, and ready to delight everyone he saw.
'Look at those eyes!' Mum said. 'He's wide awake already, after just a few hours.'
'Nearly ready to give me a hand in the garden,' Dad said with satisfaction, and with a wink at Meg.
She laughed. She was unbelievably happy. Holding James gave her an extraordinary feeling, better than anything she had ever experienced.
Mum and Dad were so good with him, too. That was lovely. James seemed to know instinctively that he was part of a family that would cherish him.
It would have been so much better, of course, if Jamie had been here as well to hold his son, but that hadn't been meant to be. Even if he'd been alive, she doubted if he would have been here anyway. Not for long. The old Jamie would, of course. The young Jamie, rather. The Jamie she had loved more than anything or anybody in the world, and who had loved her back just as much. And that was the Jamie she would remember and tell James about as he grew up.
The girls in the office had kept in touch over the months since Meg had left work. Carol and Fiona came to see her that first evening in the hospital. They were suitably impressed.
'Isn't he long!' Fiona said. 'What a size he'll be.'
'Far too big,' Meg said. 'I could have done with a smaller baby, I can tell you!'
'He's perfect,' Carol said with longing. 'Nice blond hair, blue eyes, tall… He's got everything.'
'Do you know how long you'll be here in the hospital?' Fiona asked.
'Not long, apparently. I might be leaving tomorrow. That's what the nurses say anyway.'
'Oh? Robert will be disappointed.'
Meg blinked. 'Robert?'
'It's just that he wanted us to ask you if he could visit. His children want to see the baby, apparently.'
'Of course they can visit!'
'But if you're not here …?'
'He can come to Mum's. I'll be staying there, and he knows where it is.'
'Does he?' Carol said, looking interested.
'He's been before.'
'Has he now?' Carol and Fiona said in unison, with sideways glances and giggles at one another.
'Honestly, you two!'
*
Later that evening, Jenny and Mike arrived.
'How wonderful!' Jenny cried, seeing Baby James for the first time. 'I've always wanted one of them.'
'Congratulations, love!' Mike said, stooping to kiss Meg. 'Haven't you done well?'
'Thank you, Mike. You're too kind. All I did was double in size and carry a large weight around for the best part of nine months.'
Mike patted his ample stomach and said, 'I know how it feels.'
'Take no notice of him,' Jenny advised. 'He has no idea what we women have to put up with.'
Meg laughed. It was good to have company.
Then more arrived.
'Kirsty? Is it really you?' Meg cried with delight. 'What are you doing here?'
'Come to see you, of course!'
It was indeed Kirsty. She climbed up on to the bed and gave Meg a kiss. Then she spotted James and rushed to peer into his cot.
'Kirsty?' Jenny murmured.
'Robert's little girl. Robert from the office. Oh, here they are! Sean and Robert.'
Suddenly there was a swarm of people around her, and a terrible shortage of chairs.
/> Robert kissed her cheek. 'It's good to see you, Meg. You're looking well, too. And this is …?' he added, peering at the new arrival.
'James!' Kirsty cried.
Laughter all round.
*
Back at Bracken Cottage, fatigue caught up with Meg. Fatigue and James's needs. It was lovely to have him to herself, but it was so tiring. She had never been so tired. She was physically and mentally exhausted, drained.
'But so happy!' she told Mum, who smiled and left her to feed James.
Jenny came on her own to visit after a couple of days. 'How's it going?' she wanted to know.
Meg rolled her eyes and smiled. 'It's topsy-turvy, but I'm getting used to it.'
'You're both looking very well, anyway. And I swear James is bigger already.'
'He should be. What an appetite!'
They chatted for a minute or two. Then Jenny said, 'I hope your other visitors got home all right the other night. Have you heard from them?'
'Robert, you mean? No. I haven't. Why, was there a problem?'
'Something not right with his car, apparently. It was probably all right, though. What a dishy man, by the way. You've never mentioned him, have you?'
Meg shrugged awkwardly. 'I can't remember. He's just someone I work with. That's all.'
'Oh?'
'And sometimes I baby-sit for him.'
'Oh?'
'I like the children. They're so nice.'
'I could see that.'
'What?' Meg said, suddenly defensive against Jenny's sustained and open interest.
'Oh, nothing. Nothing at all. He seemed very fond of you, though.'
'We're just friends, Jenny. That's all.'
'Oh?'
'Stop it!' Meg laughed. 'Good friends, though,' she amended. 'Robert's been very kind to me, even though he has his own problems.'
'And what might they be? A wife that doesn't understand him, perhaps?'
'Stop it, Jenny! Right now. He's a widow.'
'Really? Oh!'
'You're terrible!' Meg accused, but she couldn't help smiling.
'Incorrigible,' Jenny agreed.
'Just for the record, and to put an end to what you're imagining, Robert is a widow who still loves his wife, as well as his children.'
'Pity,' Jenny said with a sigh. 'All the best men ….'
Days Like These Page 7
