by Kate Hewitt
For the first time, she felt a true and deep ache of longing to know the brother she’d once had. She missed him, even though she couldn’t remember him. She wondered how different their family would have been over the years, with Jamie in the middle of it. Tears stung her eyes at the realisation, new even after all these years, that he never would be.
“You keep it,” Ruth said, touching her shoulder. “I want you to have it.”
“Thanks, Mum.” Miriam gave her a rather watery smile and quickly, tightly, they hugged. “I’m going to miss you so much,” she whispered against Ruth’s shoulder.
“I know, darling, and I’m going to miss you. So much. Whoever would have thought I’d be the one flying across the world and you staying here?”
“True,” Miriam admitted with a laugh.
Ruth stepped back, a look of cautious concern crossing her face. “But I want to take this moment, while we’re alone, to say something I feel I need to.”
Uh-oh. “This sounds serious,” Miriam said as lightly as she could.
“It’s just…I know you probably think we all want you to end up with Rory, but if it’s not right, it’s not right. Don’t go into a relationship with him for the wrong reasons. A marriage is a lifetime commitment.”
“I’m not thinking of marrying him quite yet,” Miriam said, a bit startled. Marriage. Yikes.
“I know, but…I don’t want you to feel pressured. On one hand, it seems like a nice, neat ending for the two of you to fall in love and spend the rest of your lives together. But it might not be the right ending. Your husband needs to be your partner in every sense of the word. I don’t want you to miss out on the real thing, Miriam, and just marry for convenience or because it seems like the right thing to do.”
“Okay.” Miriam nodded slowly. She was glad her mother had said it, even if she still secretly thought her mother did want her to end up with Rory, just like her sisters.
“I mean it,” Ruth said, as if she’d guessed Miriam’s thoughts. She probably had. “I know you’ve been berating yourself over how this all came about, but don’t try to make up for it by doing what you think is the right thing now. That’s not the way life—or faith—works.”
“I know,” Miriam whispered. Now she really was going to cry.
“Lucy is a wonderful blessing, and I’m so glad she’s here,” Ruth said softly. “But getting together with Rory doesn’t legitimise her to me or anyone. She doesn’t need to be. I hope you know that.”
Her throat too tight to speak, Miriam just nodded.
“But I want to say something else, as well.” Now Ruth looked even more hesitant. “This is such an overwhelming, emotional time for you, Miriam. I remember when I had Esther…I cried at anything, even telly adverts.”
“Mum, you still cry at telly adverts.”
“True, but…your hormones are zinging around like crazy…and you’ve had so much to deal with.”
“Yes…” She wasn’t sure where her mother was going with this, but it was clearly somewhere.
“I just think you need to give yourself some time,” Ruth said. “To even out, to get used to this new life. Don’t…don’t make any decisions right now. Don’t trust your emotions.”
Ruth turned to busy herself at the sink, and with a dawning ripple of horrified understanding, Miriam realised her mother was talking about Dan. Don’t trust her emotions with Dan. Don’t actually think she loved him.
Of course, she’d been saying the same thing to herself, but it was much worse coming from her mum. Was it so horribly obvious how she felt? Or had one of her sisters had a quiet—or not so quiet—word with her mum about her and Dan? Either way, it was awful.
What if Dan found out?
And then, to her own shock and shame, Miriam realised part of her wanted him to find out. What if it spurred him to action? What if it made him realise what he’d had on his doorstep all along?
Of course, the alternative was he wasn’t going to realise that at all, and everything between them would become even more strained and awkward than it already was.
“Thanks, Mum,” Miriam managed to say with the barest semblance of calm. “I appreciate your advice.”
*
With her mum gone, Miriam started to feel the monotonous boredom of her days alone with a newborn baby. She tried to get out as much as she could, putting Lucy in the sling and going for walks with her camera; now that it was almost March, spring had started to come to this corner of Cumbria, with snowdrops and crocuses poking up from the hard, frigid earth.
She also went to the weekly coffee morning in the church hall, and took Bailey out when Rachel was at school. But she still felt restless, and when Lucy was three weeks old, she asked both Dan and Simon if she could return to work.
“What, already?” Simon looked shocked. “Miriam, you’ve just had a baby.”
“I know, and I feel like I’m going crazy. I need to be around people, Simon. And you and Anna both said I could bring Lucy to the vicarage…”
“Of course you can,” Simon said. “I just don’t want you to feel pressured.”
“Trust me, I don’t.”
Dan was even more cautious than Simon. “Are you sure, Miriam? Between the vicarage and here you’re practically working full-time.”
“I know, and I thought I wouldn’t go back quite as much as that. I was hoping to do three mornings at the vicarage and two afternoons here.” She smiled. “Perfectly reasonable.”
“I could use the help, of course, but I feel almost as if I’m taking advantage.”
“Trust me, you’re not. I want to do this, Dan. Otherwise I just sit at home and stare at the walls. As lovely as Lucy is, she isn’t the most brilliant conversationalist yet.”
Dan’s expression softened as he glanced down at Lucy, sleeping peacefully in her pram. Miriam had taken the opportunity to stop in the surgery on one of her daily walks.
“She is lovely,” he agreed.
“So…?”
“Yes, of course you can return to work. I’ll be happy to have you here again.”
Relief bloomed in Miriam, a smile spreading across her face. “Great.”
“When do you want to start?”
“Would tomorrow be too soon?”
Dan looked startled, but he nodded. “Sure,” he said. “Great.” Miriam nodded back, turning to leave, when he said, his tone casual, “What about London? Are you planning to visit anytime soon?”
She tensed, reluctant to answer. A few days ago, she’d Skyped Rory and he’d asked again. She’d promised she would soon, but now that she was going back to work, Miriam knew there was no excuse to keep from visiting him. She’d already decided to text him with some suggested dates, and yet she didn’t feel like telling any of that to Dan.
“Yes, at some point,” she said finally. “But it will be over a weekend, and it won’t interfere with work.”
“All right.” Dan met her gaze, looking serious even as he smiled. “I’m glad you’re going.”
Miriam couldn’t think of any reply she was willing to give, so she just smiled her goodbye and turned to leave. Every time Dan mentioned Rory, it felt like a nail in the coffin of her fragile hopes. When was she finally going to admit to herself that they were dead?
*
The re-entry into the workplace, such as it was, was a bit bumpier than Miriam had anticipated. She’d envisioned Lucy lying cherubically in her Moses basket, perhaps kicking her feet a little, or cooing on occasion, but the reality was a bit different.
Her first morning at the vicarage, Lucy screamed for an hour for no apparent reason. Miriam gave up the pretence of working, and spent the rest of the morning attempting to breastfeed her furious daughter in the sitting room while Simon tried to have a pastoral visit in the study across the hall, over her shrill cries.
“Sorry,” she said when Lucy had finally settled. “That didn’t go quite as planned.”
“No worries,” Simon said, as affable as ever. “It’s growing
pains and learning curves for everyone, this little one included.”
Miriam was half-dreading her afternoon the next day with Dan; the surgery was a much smaller space than the vicarage, and not nearly as comfortable. She didn’t have a private room with a sofa to crash out on with Lucy, and if her daughter decided to throw a wobbly again, it was going to be very loud.
Fortunately, Lucy decided to be an angel baby for the entire afternoon, waking only to give Dan a gummy smile when he peeked in her basket.
After a full week of work, Miriam was exhausted, but she was also happy to be feeling productive again.
“I feel a bit like I lost my brain for a while,” she told Esther when she went over to her and Will’s house for dinner on the weekend.
“Lucy is only a little less than a month old,” Esther pointed out. “Baby brain lasts a bit longer than that, I should think.”
“Yes, but I wanted to get back into the swing of things. I know it might not work out long-term, especially as Lucy gets older, but for now this is what I need.”
“And your decision to go back to work has nothing to do with Dan?” Esther asked when Will was out of hearing. She looked, surprisingly for her sister, more sympathetic than shrewd.
“No, it doesn’t. I live behind his house, Esther. I can see him whenever I want.” Although they hadn’t spent an evening together since Lucy’s birth.
“True, but it’s not quite the same, is it?”
Miriam shook her head. “Please don’t push it.”
“I’m sorry. I know I’m probably sounding like a proper cow, but the truth is, I’m worried about you, Miriam. Don’t throw away a chance with Rory because of this thing you feel for Dan.”
“Trust me, I won’t.” She focused on laying the table, straightening forks and knives. “In fact, I’m visiting Rory next weekend. We Skyped last night about it.”
“Oh, you are? Well done.” Esther looked genuinely pleased. “That’s something, then.”
“Yes, it is.” In truth Miriam was a bit terrified of the prospect—five hours on the train, and then taking the Tube across London with Lucy in tow, and who knew how Rory would cope with an actual live baby? Plus, she was staying with a friend of her mother’s who she’d never met, which just added another variable into an already complicated equation.
“Let me know how it goes.” Esther squeezed her hand. “I’ll be thinking of you the whole time. And praying.”
“Thanks.” Miriam managed a smile. “I need all the positive thoughts and prayers that I can get.”
*
The next week, Miriam told Dan about her proposed trip. Although she was reluctant, she knew he’d be pleased, and it wouldn’t make a difference to their non-friendship anyway. Although Dan was as easy and relaxed as ever, it was impossible not to notice that something major had shifted between them.
Lucy’s birth had brought them closer, but her continued presence was driving them apart, thanks to the shadow of Rory that loomed over them. At least, Miriam assumed that’s what it was. Maybe Dan was just happy to move on with his life.
That was made all the clearer when, towards the end of the working day on Wednesday, a woman appeared in the surgery, surprisingly without a pet.
“May I help?” Miriam asked as the woman shook her long, caramel-coloured hair over one shoulder. She was dressed in an expensive, country style—Hunter boots, skinny jeans, and a Barbour waxed jacket with the collar turned up. Miriam took an instant dislike to her, although she tried not to show it.
“Oh no, no,” the woman said with a tinkling laugh. “I just arrived in Thornthwaite a bit early. I’m here to see Dan.” She took a step towards her. “You must be Miriam, his tenant?”
Miriam stared at her, utterly nonplussed. Tenant? “Er, yes,” she finally said.
“He’s told me about you, and your gorgeous baby.” She peeked in the Moses basket; Lucy was thankfully being an angel baby again. “How sweet. She’s adorable. And you look fantastic for just having had a baby—not much baby weight at all.”
Okay, Miriam officially hated her. Not much baby weight? “Thanks,” she said, her voice just a touch cool. “I’ll let Dan know you’re here…?” She paused, waiting for a name.
“Lara,” the woman said with a smile. “We’ve known each other since uni.”
“Lovely.” Miriam rapped on the back office door, where Dan had been making some consultations on the phone. “Dan?” She poked her head in. “Lara is here.”
Dan looked up, his smile lighting up his face. “Great, thanks, Miriam.”
A few tense minutes later Dan emerged from the office, and Miriam watched, frozen, as he kissed Lara on the cheek.
“Great to see you.” He turned to Miriam. “Would you mind locking up?”
“Of course, no problem.” She watched them go, Dan’s hand on the small of Lara’s back, as her heart splintered into a million tiny pieces.
Chapter Twenty-Two
“So…what do you want to do?”
Miriam jiggled an almost-asleep Lucy as she perched on the edge of the only piece of furniture in Rory’s lounge besides the enormous large flat-screen TV—a hard sofa with metal arms and flat cushions of fake leather. “I don’t know. I don’t really know London. Perhaps we could get something to eat?”
She’d arrived at Rory’s flat in Camden Town an hour ago, and so far it hadn’t been the easiest time. Rory had exclaimed over Lucy, and then seemed appalled at the thought of holding her, backing away with his palms up, saying he’d try later.
His flat was tiny and grotty, and Miriam had lived in some very tiny and grotty places. He had a flatmate who had greeted Miriam with a grunt, before slamming into his bedroom and playing techno music loud enough to make her heart thud. Fortunately, Lucy didn’t seem to mind a heavy bass beat.
Since seeing Dan with the elegant Lara, Miriam had made a promise to herself to give things with Rory a proper shot. After Dan and Lara had left, she’d locked up the office and headed back home with Lucy, trying her best not to feel out of sorts or worse, to cry.
She spent the whole evening waiting for Dan to come home, and then wished she hadn’t, because when she heard the sound of boots on the gravel drive at around eleven, she’d scurried to the window just in time to see Dan and Lara kiss, their bodies bathed in moonlight. Miriam had ducked out of sight, horrified, grief-stricken. She’d been holding on to a slender thread of hope that Dan and Lara were just friends, but that had just snapped.
And so she’d turned to Rory, determined to make this visit a success, to ignore the filth and mess in the kitchen, the way Rory sometimes sneaked looks at Lucy as if he was secretly—or not so secretly—appalled by her. A baby in reality was far different from a baby on a laptop screen, especially when Lucy did a messy, smelly, noisy poo, and Miriam had to strip her down to her nappy to change her, with the help of an entire travel pack of baby wipes.
Now, however, Lucy was clean, fed, and settled, and Miriam was hungry. “Let’s get something to eat,” she said firmly. “Is there a restaurant you’d recommend?”
Half an hour later they were crammed into a tiny booth of an Indian restaurant with blaring sitar music and a din of conversation that set Lucy off crying. Miriam knew she wouldn’t be able to eat most things on the menu because of the spiciness, and she wished she’d put her foot down and suggested something a bit quieter and more reasonable.
But Rory had been so excited to show her one of his favourite haunts, claiming the onion bhajis were out of this world, and Miriam hadn’t had the heart to say no.
Now, with Lucy wailing, she wished she had.
“Does she always cry like this?” he asked, looking alarmed.
“Not always. But it’s very noisy and strange in here. Lots of people and sound. I think it’s scaring her.”
“Oh. Do you want to go somewhere else…?”
Yes. “No, it’s fine,” Miriam said. It would take too much effort to find another place, and then to have to wait for a table. �
�I’ll just take her outside for a bit, to settle her. Why don’t you order the food? Nothing too spicy for me, if you don’t mind.”
“All right.”
Outside Miriam breathed in the cool, damp February air and jiggled Lucy against her shoulder. This part of Camden Town was funky and hip, with people in all sorts of styles walking past, often in clouds of cigarette or some other kind of smoke. Miriam stepped back, Lucy pressed tightly to her, amazed at how country mouse-ish she felt after just a few months back in Cumbria.
She’d travelled through most of Europe and plenty of Oceania, had eaten and drunk and slept in dozens of different cities, but right now she felt out of her depth…in so many ways.
And she had a terrible feeling that after deciding to put all her eggs in this one wobbly basket, it wasn’t going to work out.
“Miriam?”
She turned to see Rory standing in the doorway of the restaurant, looking both apologetic and sheepish.
“Look, I’m sorry about all this. I feel like I’ve made a right mess of things.”
“No…” Miriam said halfheartedly, and Rory gave her such a sceptical look that she laughed. “All right yes, perhaps a little. But this is new for both of us. How were you to know?”
“It certainly is new.” He raked a hand through his hair, smiling wryly. “I really don’t know the first thing about babies.”
“I didn’t either.”
“You seem like such an expert now.”
Miriam laughed again and shook her head. “No way. I am the ultimate when it comes to faking it till you make it.”
“Well, from standing over here, you seem impressive.” He nodded back towards the busy restaurant. “Do you want to go back in or just count our losses? I’ve ordered, but I can cancel it.”
“No, I don’t want you to do that—”
“I ordered a tikka masala, heavy on the mild spices, for you.” He smiled uncertainly, and something in Miriam both melted and lightened. He was trying. That’s all that mattered now, surely? Not whether he got everything right? As she’d said, this was new for them both. They both needed to learn and adjust.
