The Anita Waller Collection

by Anita Waller

  ‘That’s not the complication. The complication is that I am five weeks pregnant.’

  There was silence between them, while he allowed what she had said to take root in his brain.

  ‘You’re sure?’

  She nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

  ‘And if you’re five weeks…’

  She had to speak. ‘It’s yours.’

  He put down the cup he had been holding almost as a comforter, and leaned back in his chair.

  ‘And we can’t be together? You’re telling me that I not only lose you, the absolute love of my life, but another man is going to be bringing up my child?’

  ‘Phil, please try and understand. I can’t hurt Gareth and Dan, I really can’t. But you know it’s mainly Dan. If there were only Gareth, you and I would probably already be together. I know I don’t talk much about Gareth, but the situation between us is a little how you’ve described yours with Rosie. And then there’s my job. I’ve worked too hard to get where I am at Banton and Hardwick to give it up. I’ll have the baby, and I’ll be going back to work after my maternity leave. But, what is of more importance is that I would lose my job. You’re my client, Phil, my client, for God’s sake!’ And then she did cry.

  He stood and moved his chair so that he was by her side. He pulled her close, and let the tears flow.

  ‘We were stupid?’ he said eventually.

  She wiped her eyes and looked at him. ‘Stupid?’

  ‘We’re old enough to know how to prevent conception, aren’t we?’

  ‘You know I’m on the pill, but I took antibiotics for that damned ear infection. I’m so sorry, Phil, it’s all my fault. We weren’t stupid, I was.’

  He sighed. ‘I don’t want to be without you. This has been the best six months of my life, knowing you were part of it. Please don’t stop that, Liz, I’m begging you.’

  ‘I have no choice. I’m going. Your case at work is almost completed, we have the final settlement figure, so there’s no reason for us to be in contact. I love you, Phil, always will, but we can’t be together. You know we can’t. Maybe if there had been no baby, in five years things would have been different, but…’

  He stood, as she turned to walk away, aware that the other two customers were now watching their every move.

  ‘I’ll respect that,’ he said softly, ‘even though I don’t agree with it. But remember this always, Liz; if ever the situation at home changes, or your job is no longer an issue – in fact, any damn thing – ring me using our phones. I’ll come and get you, no questions asked, and with exactly the same amount of love in my heart.’

  She turned as she reached the door, mouthed I love you and walked out of his life, knowing exactly what she was giving up.

  Chapter 1

  It comes at too high a price, having a baby, Liz decided. How do you hide the tears from fellow travellers as you remember his little face, now turned to his new, first day child-minder, happily smiling with no intentions of missing you at all?

  She was aching for him, this unplanned child. It hadn’t seemed so bad when she had taken him to meet Sadie Fremantle, to see if they bonded; Liz was only doing a bit of forward planning. Sadie was a single mum of thirty-nine with a twenty-year-old son, Christian, at Solent University, and she had taken the decision to become a registered childminder to bring in extra funding to supplement the money she earned auditing books from home.

  Liz still had three months of maternity leave left; she was simply making tentative enquiries. Those enquiries had morphed into an afternoon every week while baby Jacob learned to know the woman who would be his surrogate parent. Liz had also taken Gareth to meet Sadie a couple of times, to get his views on the woman who would have such a massive influence on their baby son’s early years, and Gareth had agreed with her choice.

  And then reality hit, the tentative enquiries were well in the past, and she was to return to work.

  Banton and Hardwick, solicitors in Sheffield’s city centre, valued her. She wished they didn’t. She didn’t want to leave Jake with Sadie, she wanted to be there when he took his first step, got his first tooth, (which, at nine months and with no sign of a small white nub in his gums, was beginning to feel unlikely), spoke his first word; hence the tears as the tram took her ever further into the heart of the city on that cold January morning.

  A couple of people spoke to her and asked if she was okay; she dabbed away the tears with a screwed-up piece of tissue and said she was fine.

  Liz exited the tram outside the cathedral and crossed Fargate to nip into Boots for more tissues. She thought she might need them.

  She headed down through Paradise Square and came to the imposing steps leading up to her place of work.

  Liz felt wobbly. She had last walked down those steps only two weeks away from giving birth, with Gareth waiting in the car, hazards flashing as he was parked illegally. She had been carrying armfuls of presents. The practice employed many people, and although the two partners to whom she was attached had bought her the pram, every other member of staff had bought her an individual gift.

  She took a deep breath and pushed thoughts of the last nine months to the back of her mind. She straightened her shoulders and climbed the steps.

  No tears, Liz, she warned herself. Be professional. Jake is in good hands, you don’t need to worry. You’re a forty-year-old woman, successful career, full of confidence, life sorted. Be brave.

  She didn’t know the receptionist, and the receptionist didn’t know her. Good start, Liz, she thought.

  She introduced herself and Karen welcomed her with a smile.

  ‘It’s good to meet you, Mrs Chambers. I’m Karen Lee. Mr Banton said you would be returning this week. This is your ID tag,’ and she handed over Liz’s lanyard, complete with the new picture she had emailed to HR the week before.

  ‘Thank you, Karen, it’s good to meet you, too. How long have you been here?’

  ‘Three months. I came as a temp, but I’ve been taken on now.’

  ‘You like it?’

  ‘Very much so. And it’s a lot more secure than working for an agency.’

  ‘I’m sure,’ Liz said with a smile. ‘I worked for agencies at one point in my life…’ she shuddered. ‘Are Mr Banton and Mr Hardwick in?’

  ‘They are. I’ll let them know you’ve arrived.’ She pressed the intercom button and then whispered to Liz, ‘I think they’re excited to have you back.’

  Liz laughed and headed for the door to the executive offices. She waited until she heard the gentle click as Karen released the lock, then walked down the corridor to her room. It was an old building, and Tom Banton and Oliver Hardwick had kept it as separate offices, rather than knocking walls down to make it open-plan, filled with small dividing partitions.

  She walked into her office, the room that connected directly with both Tom and Oliver’s rooms, and wanted to cry yet again.

  Carefully positioned on her desk was a huge bouquet of yellow roses, and a pile of envelopes clearly containing cards. She put down her bag, took off her coat, and carried both to her small wardrobe; quickly ran a comb through her dark blonde hair, checked the miniscule amount of make-up she wore hadn’t disappeared altogether under the force of her tears, renewed her lipstick, and closed the wardrobe door.

  Her first job every morning had always been to put on the percolator and to keep it running throughout the day. It had been replaced with a coffee machine of some magnificence. She hoped it came with an instruction manual.

  Her desk phone buzzed once, and she moved to answer it. At least that hadn’t changed.

  ‘Tom,’ she said, and waited.

  ‘You’re early.’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘I thought we agreed to your starting at ten instead of nine, to help with getting Jake to his childminder?’

  ‘We did.’

  ‘So…?’

  ‘I took that as “be here by ten”.’

  ‘You like the flowers?’

>   ‘I love the flowers. Your idea?’

  Tom Banton laughed. ‘No, Chloe’s idea. That’s what wives are for, isn’t it?’

  ‘I should have guessed.’

  ‘You should.’

  ‘So, did you want something?’

  ‘Black, no sugar, please.’

  ‘Wow! Are you under instructions?’

  Tom sighed audibly. ‘I am. Chloe has given me an ultimatum. If I don’t lose weight on my own, she’s going to register me for a gym. And I think Oliver probably needs a coffee as well. We’ve missed you, Liz. We’ve had to make our own drinks.’

  She laughed. ‘Two coffees it is, then.’

  She heard him return the laughter as he put down the phone.

  She found the instruction manual for the coffee machine hidden behind it, so she worked out how to use it, then carried the drinks through to her employers.

  ‘Waitress service,’ she said as she entered Tom’s room. He lifted his head, watching her. His ginger hair fell forward across his forehead, and he brushed it back, almost without realising he was doing it. ‘About damn time. Promise me you won’t have another baby.’

  ‘Depends who’s offering to be the daddy,’ she responded. ‘Tom Hardy, Rob Lowe, Benedict whatever his name is… I could be persuaded.’

  He laughed. ‘Erm… before we get Oliver in here, there’s something you should know, so that you don’t inadvertently put your foot in it. Oliver and Julia have split up. I don’t know all the details, don’t know why, just that the divorce is in the offing. He’s not talked much about it… not to me, anyway. I don’t know whether he’ll tell you or not, but you needed to know. It doesn’t affect anything here, Julia’s always distanced herself from the business.’

  Liz’s face showed her shock. She’d known Julia since school days, and had recognised her the first day she had started to work at Banton and Hardwick, in the photograph that always stood on Oliver’s desk. Oliver had confirmed that his wife was called Julia Froggatt in an earlier life, and he had passed on Liz’s best wishes to Julia that same evening. They had met up many times since, sharing a coffee and, in Julia’s case, marital woes.

  Liz nodded at Tom. ‘Okay, message understood.’ She thought back to their last phone conversation when she had, somewhat abruptly, told Julia to either put up with Oliver’s control issues, or walk away. She had obviously walked away, and Liz prayed that Oliver didn’t know of her part in the marital split. She made a mental note to ring Julia – they hadn’t been in touch for at least four or five months.

  Tom leaned forward to press his intercom. ‘Oliver, we have coffee made by a fair maid. You coming in here, or shall I send the wench into you?’

  ‘Ten seconds.’

  Oliver Hardwick was a handsome man, fairly small in stature at 5’6” and of slim build, but with an imposing presence; always quiet and ultra-professional within the office environment. He and Tom were almost the same age, with birthdays three days apart. At forty-three, Oliver looked slightly the younger of the two men. She remembered the feeling of amusement that all the significant men in her life, Gareth, Phil, Tom and Oliver, had been born within six months of each other, and all in the same year. A good year for the supply of handsome men.

  Oliver’s deep brown eyes searched out Liz as he walked through the connecting door and stepped inside Tom’s office. He picked up the mug of coffee, walked around the desk towards Liz and said, ‘You’re early.’ He leaned forward and kissed her cheek – she could smell the Creed that surrounded him – and smiled. He truly was quite delicious. She shook her head, dismissing her thoughts.

  ‘I know. As you’ve both mentioned it, is that going to be a problem? You see, I think it’s better than being late.’

  The two men turned to each other, and spoke at the same time. ‘She’s back.’

  Chapter 2

  Liz opened all the cards and stood them on her window sill, deciding not to take them home but to keep them at work on display for a week, before putting them away. Three were from people she didn’t know, and she felt a pang as she realised how much she had missed during her nine months absence.

  She sorted out her desk. It soon became clear, in anticipation of her return, Tom and Oliver had been filling her drawer with files requiring her attention.

  She took them out to prioritise. All seven cases were new to her, and she spent the best part of her first day back reading through paperwork. She fired emails off as and when they were required, and she stayed at her desk through her lunch break, grateful for the sandwich Karen brought in.

  She only rang Sadie twice. The first time was to discover Jake was happy, playing with his toys and crawling everywhere, and the second time she was told he was asleep, worn out by the excitement of the morning.

  She felt momentarily disgruntled. He could, at least, have made a pretence of missing her, playing up, and testing his childminder. Did he have to be at his most pleasant best?

  She was surprised to see that it was almost five, and she closed her computer and locked away the paper files. She was saying good night to Karen when she heard her phone ringing in the distance.

  ‘You didn’t put that through to me?’ she asked. ‘Stupid question, wasn’t it? I’m standing here.’

  Karen shook her head. ‘No, I didn’t. It’ll be an internal call. Go home, Mrs Chambers. Whoever it was, they’ll try again tomorrow.’

  ‘Thank you, Karen, good night.’

  Liz had forgotten how steep the climb back up to the tram stop was, and she sank gratefully into a seat for the long journey home. She exited the tram one stop further than her home one, walked across the road and up a hill to collect Jake.

  Sadie smiled as she let Liz into her home.

  ‘He’s been absolutely fine, and he’s all ready to go.’ She picked him up from the play pen, and fastened him into his pushchair.

  ‘Yours now,’ she said with a laugh. ‘Two stinky nappy changes, today, so you’re welcome to the little monkey. I’ll see you in the morning.’

  ‘Thanks, Sadie. You’ve made this return to work really easy for me, but I’m glad I’m only doing three days a week until Jake’s in school.’

  Sadie helped Liz lift the pushchair out of the door, and Liz felt once more at peace. Jake was back with her, and all was right again in her world. So far, she hadn’t been able to fault Sadie. On the days that she cared for Jake, she didn’t have other children, and Liz appreciated this fact. It meant that Jake benefited from one-to-one care all the time.

  Liz laughed as Sadie pushed back her purple hair. ‘What colour will it be next week?’ she asked.

  ‘I’m fancying bright red,’ Sadie answered, ‘but we’ll see, we’ll see.’

  Liz walked down the hill, and reached her own front door five minutes later. She unlocked it and instantly heard Daniel’s music playing in his bedroom.

  ‘I’m home,’ she called, and she heard a muffled ‘hi, Mum’ as she bent over to release the pushchair straps holding Jake prisoner.

  Gareth followed her half an hour later. She was sitting on the sofa, Jake bathed, dressed in his sleepsuit and sleeping with his head on her shoulder.

  ‘I wanted five minutes,’ she said. ‘I’ll take him up now.’

  Gareth leaned across and kissed his son on his head, bypassing his wife.

  ‘Everything okay?’ he asked.

  She nodded. ‘It’s been fine. Give me a couple of minutes to put him in his cot, and we’ll talk.’

  Gareth walked into the kitchen to see Daniel taking a lasagne out of the oven. ‘Smells delicious, Dan.’ Gareth ruffled his son’s hair as he went past.

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘With chips?’

  ‘Sorry, it’s salad. Mum’s banned chips.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Your fault, Dad. She says you’re putting on far too much weight, so we’re all having to suffer.’

  Gareth’s face spoke of misery. ‘Has she included wine in this ban, or can I have a glass?’

>   ‘“When you’ve lost a stone” were her precise words.’

  ‘Water it is then.’ The misery had extended to his voice.

  He set the table, and Liz joined them a couple of minutes later.

  ‘Son number two asleep. Let’s hope he stays that way.’

  She sat down, and waited for Gareth and Dan to join her.

  ‘Looks lovely, Dan.’

  Dan placed the lasagne in the centre of the table and took out the salad bowl from the fridge. He added a dish of coleslaw, a jug of lemon water, and they all sat down. ‘Vin de citron,’ he announced, and his father glared at him.

  ‘Not even vaguely funny, Dan.’

  ‘Dad, eat your salad.’

  Liz and Dan looked at each other and tried to hide the laughter.

  ‘The quicker you lose that stone, the better,’ Dan said, finally giving in and grinning at his dad.

  ‘But it’s winter. Nobody eats salad in winter.’

  ‘You are,’ Liz said.

  ‘You’re cruel,’ Gareth grumbled, heaping another pile of coleslaw onto his salad to try and give it some taste. ‘What’s wrong with meat and potato pie?’

  ‘Nothing. You want that tomorrow?’ Dan asked. ‘We’ve got enough meat in the freezer.’

  Dan had taken on the role of head chef in the household. He intended going to catering college after leaving school, and Gareth and Liz were only too happy to let him feed them; he had taken over the day-to-day shopping in the early weeks following Jake’s birth – and the cooking, much to their delight.

  ‘So,’ Gareth said to his wife, ‘how was today?’