‘Okay. If that’s what you want.’ He took her hand. More, she imagined, for a show of solidarity to the priest than out of a need to be close to her. ‘That’s what we’ll tell him.’
‘What do you want, though? Because I’m happy to go with the flow here.’ They were tiptoeing around each other so much instead of just confronting everything. It made her heart sore. But there was no time. Evenings were filled with phone calls and Skyping and checklists and she was scared that if she tried to have a deep and meaningful conversation with him they’d just end up arguing.
Ben bit the inside of his lip as he thought, looking at her with hooded eyes. He seemed to be wrestling with something in his head and she willed him to just say what was on his mind. But in the end he nodded. Swallowed. Sighed. Then said, ‘Okay. Let’s write them. Say what we feel about each other and our future.’
Scared, right now, to be honest. ‘Okay.’
Father Lukas waved from the church door, beckoning them.
Ben paused. ‘Let’s make a good go of this meeting, okay? A unified front.’
‘Of course.’ Did he really need to say that?
He looked at her, and smiled, and in that smile was the question… can we do this?
More tiptoeing. More eggshells.
Before she had time to answer, the priest stepped down the steps of the quaint old church and brought them inside for a chat she expected would be about the sanctity of marriage. Charlotte had had no religious upbringing, but there was something soothing and calming about walking into a dark, cool church. Although the statues freaked her out a little.
She imagined the big day. The flowers on the ends of the pews. The friends and family. Lissa’s secret little bump. Eileen’s sheen of proud tears swimming in her eyes.
And the hard knot of guilt lodged in her own chest. Knowledge that she was promising him things she didn’t know if she could follow through on.
And worse… the knowledge that she may not live side by side with him long enough. That she could fall sick. She could already be sick.
He really did deserve to know.
But she put on her game face and listened eagerly as Father Lukas explained the ceremony to them, as they chose the music and looked at the big register where they’d sign their names.
And then the priest brought up the blasted vows. He rocked back on his Chucks as they stumbled for an answer. He was very young to be a clergyman. Mid thirties, probably, with oodles of street cred with his little man bun and generous smile and cool T-shirt, faded jeans and Converse trainers. About as far from her idea of a priest as she’d ever imagined. ‘So, you haven’t written them yet?’
‘No. I… I’m hopeless at these sorts of things.’ She looked at Ben and shrugged. He shrugged back. No reassuring smile.
Meanwhile, Father Lukas smiled in that way that meant this was the tiniest of problems and could easily be surmounted. ‘Well, that’s fine. It’s just fine, honestly. I have some examples I can email you. We don’t need anything until the day, really. I understand there must be so much going on in your heads at the moment.’
‘So much.’ She smiled back at him, relief springing through her. More than you could ever imagine. ‘We’re not sure if we should even write any. Neither of us is Shakespeare, to be honest.’
‘I’ll leave it with you. Just give me the nod on the day and I’ll make space for you to add some words if you want. No pressure. Usually it’s about loving and caring and respect… partners in life, that kind of thing.’ He walked them to the church door. ‘Well, I’ll see you on the big day. Enjoy your weekends away and don’t…’ The priest smiled, and then winked. ‘…Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do. At least, if you do, I don’t want to hear about it.’
‘Oh, don’t worry. We’ll try not to.’ Ben smiled back and leaned in to her as they walked down the steps, whispering, ‘So, I guess I really do have to omit the sex in strange places thing.’
‘Typical you.’ She felt the heat of his hand in hers and her body softened. Hopeful. ‘Benjamin Murphy, you have a potty mind.’
‘And that is why you love me.’
‘Yep.’ She nudged him. ‘One of the many reasons.’
‘Many?’
She made sure to look straight at him. He’d never needed reassurance before. ‘Loads, Ben. Loads. You must know that.’
Even though the atmosphere between them had softened enough for them to joke with the priest, there was no way she could go ahead with any of this without Ben firmly by her side, on her side, walking the same path as her.
Making a decision, she took his hand and led him to the little park across from the church. A small playground. Inside her chest there was a tight, raw pain, because she didn’t want to have to do this.
Because telling someone you had a dodgy cancer gene sucked. Telling someone you went behind their back to get that information sucked too.
Everything around her went out of focus as she concentrated on him. On being honest. Finally. She took a deep breath. ‘Okay. Enough already. This atmosphere between us is becoming unbearable and I know why. It’s my fault. I need to tell you something. Something important.’
‘What is it?’ He looked wrong-footed. Unsure. And it hurt her heart even more to know she’d done that to him; made him second-guess the one thing he said made him happy. Us.
If she wasn’t careful there wouldn’t be an us. It might already be too late.
She sat down on one of the swings and waited until he sat on the one next to her. ‘You’re not going to be happy about this, Ben. But I want you to know everything before we step back into that church again.’
His eyes narrowed as his body swayed gently, his feet firmly on the ground. ‘Why, Charl? What is it?’
‘I had some blood tests to see what my DNA is about.’
The swing came to an abrupt stop. ‘You did what?’
‘I told you I wanted to know more about who I am, so I went to have the tests.’
He didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. Because she knew the problem wasn’t just having the tests, it was doing something he’d asked her not to do. Something she’d promised not to do. It was the breakdown of trust that she’d wilfully pursued.
He was looking at her as if he didn’t know her any more. ‘You went, even though we agreed you wouldn’t go until after the wedding? And then you didn’t tell me?’
‘Yes. I went with Lissa, because…’ Best not to mention anything about her pregnancy. That was her business to do with what she wanted, when she wanted. How could she have thought it had been a good idea to keep it from him? Her head flounced around trying to come up with some kind of excuse. A reason for this betrayal. ‘I went with Lissa… being my best friend and everything…’
‘Oh, Charl.’ Ben shook his head, his voice low, taking the blows. Blow after blow. He looked as if someone had died. Maybe his idea of her had. ‘I thought I was your best friend.’
He turned away.
Shit. Double bloody shit. Her heart felt as if it was shattering, her world. ‘Of course you are, Ben. You are my best friend.’
‘I was once.’ His eyes shone dark with emotion.
She gripped his hand holding on to the steel rope. ‘You still are. I love you, Ben.’
He tugged his hand out from under hers. ‘You have a very strange way of showing it.’
She looked over at the church, at the shadows falling across it as the sun lowered in the sky. At the flowers in the graveyard at the side. At the graves of the people who had lived and loved and left. How many of them had been in her shoes? Faced adversity? Had they lost themselves like she felt she had? Lost everything they wanted? Or worked it all out? ‘I don’t blame you for being angry. I’m trying to get my head around everything and I know I’ve been muddled, and I know I’ve done some stupid things, and I’m sorry if that’s affected the way we are, but I had to do something. No one knows how important all this is to me. No one understands, and that’s okay, it’s my journey.’
‘Our journey.’ His eyes burned bright. ‘Hell, I’ve been trying to understand. It’s not easy, especially when I don’t actually know what’s going on, what with you doing stuff behind my back and everything.’
‘I tried to talk to you about it, but you said I had to wait. I didn’t want to wait… I am allowed some independent actions, Ben. I can choose to do things without having to kowtow to you all the time. We might be a couple, but I am my own person too.’
‘Of course you are. You’re making that very clear. I, on the other hand, am trying to build a future for us both.’ His words were clipped, precise and spat out. ‘For us both.’
It was scary. They’d never had a vehement argument before. They’d never really disagreed on anything other than what colour to paint the bedroom. And she didn’t like the way it made her feel, all knotted and torn apart. Hopeless. And frightened that he’d do what Carol did. What she’d fully expected Eileen to do for the last twenty-five years.
Un-choose her.
Because she wasn’t worthy of them. Because she’d done stupid things and kept them in the dark.
But arguing was getting them nowhere. She’d started to spill her guts, so she might as well finish.
‘The bottom line is… and this is the real thing, Ben, the real issue… I had my genetics checked and I have a really shitty gene, which means I will probably develop breast cancer at some point in the future. No one knows when, or if I even definitely will, but there’s a very high chance. Like ninety per cent or something huge.’
‘Shit, sweetheart.’ The lines on his forehead deepened and he shook his head. Then he did what he always did and looked for a positive. ‘No. No. No. Dr Carter said you were fine. You are fine. I was there, I heard him.’
‘He didn’t do this test, though. None of us knew my family history – that’s why I wanted to get it done – you know that. And thank God I did, because I wouldn’t know what I’m facing otherwise. I’d be blithely planning a life ignorant of things working away inside me.’
‘But what can they do? They must be able to do something.’ He was moving now, crouching in front of her. He cupped her face in both his hands. ‘Shit, sweetheart, I’m so sorry. We’ll get the best doctors. Somehow. We’ll work it out. I’ll fix this.’
‘You can’t fix it. You can’t fix any of it. Not that I don’t want you to. If you have a magic wand hidden away somewhere, now would be a great time to use it.’ The tears she’d been trying to stop filled her eyes. She blinked them away. Because what good would they do? She needed to be as strong as Carol believed her to be. ‘Okay. Breathe. No point in crying. I can have my breasts removed, and my ovaries too, and that means the odds will fall, drastically. But it means we have to rethink our baby plan. It means that if we want kids we have to bring it forward. We do the family thing first and then the op a couple of years down the line… a few more if we want a big brood.’
There was a tightening in his jaw. ‘No. No. No. You have to have the operation now. I don’t want to take any chances.’
‘But what about children? Why not have them now and then have the op?’
His palm went to his head, as if trying to slow things down in there. He scrubbed his hand across his hair. Back and forth, back and forth. ‘Whoa, stop a minute. Just stop. We’re swinging wildly from one thing to another. Breast cancer… babies… and everything now. You want everything now? I don’t think it works that way, Charl.’
‘I’m not swinging from one thing to the next. It’s all related. It’s all a logical extension. If we want babies we have to have them now and then I’ll have the operation once our family is complete. But the choice is, we have kids now or not at all.’
‘And I want a wife who has the best chance of survival. So there’s no contest here. Operation now. Tomorrow.’ His voice broke a little and he sounded tired, exhausted by all of this. By her. And she just wanted to tell him to forget it all, that she’d made a big mistake and everything was going to be fine. She wanted to wrap her arms around him and take him home and make things better again. But she couldn’t, because there was no mistake and everything wasn’t going to be fine at all. He found her a soft smile. ‘At least, after the wedding. Soon as possible. We’ll call Dr Carter first thing tomorrow.’
‘Whoa. It’s not that simple, Benjamin; I want to have a baby.’
He straightened up and started to pace. ‘No can do. I don’t want to have to choose between my wife and my kid.’
‘There’s time. A little time. We can do both.’
He stopped pacing, shook his head. Solemn. ‘I’ve read about those mums who put off treatment while they’re pregnant and then it’s too late. I’m not going to let that happen to my wife. I’m not going to lose you if we have a chance to stop this happening.’
‘I want a baby.’ She sounded like a spoilt girl, she knew that. I want a pony and I’ll stamp my feet if I don’t get one. But if she was going to have to have everything removed, go through early menopause, dodge death with a sacrifice, then it had to be for something.
‘And that’s it?’ His fingers screwed into tight fists. ‘You’ve made this decision without discussing it with me.’
‘Yes. Yes, I have, because it’s my body. My future in the end. But we’re discussing it now, aren’t we?’
Fear flickered across his pupils. ‘No, this isn’t a discussion, Charlotte. This is an ultimatum. You’re telling me we have to do things your way. I mean, wow, this is huge, okay? Massive.’ The pacing started again. He liked to walk and think and work things out. But none of that would help right now. ‘We can’t just decide to have a baby today.’
‘Because of The Plan. The stupid bloody Plan?’ Which had been his idea. Always his idea. And it had been a good one.
He’d been happy then, when they’d lain together on the bed and he’d outlined The Plan. Drawn diagrams above their heads in thin air, before they’d kissed and sealed the deal. The next day they’d gone to the bank with a zillion spreadsheets and taken out a loan for the studio. They’d agonised over the heavy repayments. He’d done it for her, for her dream, to make her happy and to have steps to make him the father he wanted to be, when the time was right.
Now he was just plain angry. ‘It’s not because of The Plan, it’s because we need more than five minutes to discuss something as important as all of this. But for the record, no. I don’t want a child now. I don’t want you to get cancer. But I don’t want kids now either. I’m not ready. And I’m not sure you are either, to be honest.’
That riled, but he had a point. ‘Thanks a bunch. You’re showing great faith in me. In us.’
‘The same kind of faith you showed in me when you went along to get a blood test behind my back?’ His eyes fluttered closed and he took a long, deep breath. He was fighting to stay calm but he was losing, she could see. When his eyes opened again he’d wrestled some of the anger away but some stayed at the edges of his eyes, in the curl of his lip. ‘Of course I want to be a dad. But a) that might be dangerous for you and I don’t want to lose you. I choose you over a baby any day of the week. You, Charlotte. I want you. And b) we can’t afford them now anyway. We’re not in a position to support a family, Charl, you know that.’
‘So, like I said, it’s either what you want or what I want. And that doesn’t seem fair. That doesn’t seem right at all. This is my body.’
‘And our life.’ He tugged her to standing, his hand on her back. ‘If you have the operation we’ll know you’re safe. Then we can… I don’t know, use a surrogate or something. Or adopt a baby when the time is right.’
‘What?’ She whipped away from him. ‘Adoption? I don’t know how you can even suggest that. How well do you actually know me, Ben?’
He flinched. ‘Judging by the fact you keep pulling things out of a hat and hitting me with them, not as well as I thought I did.’
This was the crux of it. She was learning who she was, who she was going to be… and for how long… and she wanted
to make everything count. To be who she wanted to be before it was too late, before she wasn’t anyone at all. ‘I don’t want to adopt a baby. I want one of my own, something that’s part of me. Something I share DNA with. A boy, if possible, so he won’t have this stupid gene. I read that you can have gene therapy or something. I want to look into it. And I want two babies, Ben. Then, and only then, do I want everything taken out so I can live to see them grow old.’
It was a stalemate. Her needs against his. The way he envisaged being a father, a husband. The way she wanted to be a mother: young, vibrant. Well. Alive. A woman with her own child, her own flesh and blood.
‘So is this why you brought up the whole baby thing the other day?’
‘Yes. Yes, it was.’
He shook his head. ‘Instead of just being honest with me? Why can’t you be honest about what you’re thinking? About how you feel?’
Because I don’t know how to any more. I’ve forgotten. Maybe I never really knew. Because protecting someone else meant you kept a part of yourself locked away. It meant you dealt with things on your own. She wasn’t used to sharing her emotions. Truth be told, they scared her too much.
The tears were threatening again. Well, they’d never actually gone away and now her throat felt raw, like an exposed nerve. She’d been so wrapped up in her drama she’d never seen past it. She should have told him right from the beginning, then they’d have worked out how to deal with it all. Ben would have worked out a plan. He was good at that. She palmed another escapee tear away. ‘I’m being honest now. The most honest I’ve ever been.’
‘Are you, though? Is that everything? There’s nothing else? Nothing else I’m going to find out about along the line?’ He wiped another tear from her cheek as she sniffed. ‘You know, Charl… you mean the world to me. You are my world, but it’s blowing up in my face at the moment and I don’t know what I’m doing. So, please, if there’s anything else, tell me.’
Yes, she had lie after lie but it was time to come clean about everything. It was time. ‘There is one more thing.’
The Other Life of Charlotte Evans Page 17
