‘In the attic.’
I shook my head, hugging the books to my chest. ‘I thought we’d emptied the attic a couple of weeks ago.’
‘So did I but it would seem not. I was packing away the last few bits in the spare bedroom when I heard a noise up there. I thought a bird might have got in so I decided to investigate. When I put the light on, I saw something glinting in the far corner and found the crate and this.’
He handed me a wooden unicorn figurine with a sparkling silver horn, standing about twenty centimetres high from hoof to horn.
I gasped as I took hold of Serenity. ‘No way! I thought she’d been burned too. How did we miss them up there?’
Gary shrugged. ‘Complete mystery.’
‘It certainly is.’ The scenario reminded me so much of re-discovering Sarah’s lost clairvoyant CD last year. It signalled the start of amazing things happening in her life. Had Gary just found the start of mine?
‘I hope you don’t mind,’ he said, ‘but I read some of the stories. They’re good, Li. Really, really good.’
My cheeks burned. I’d discussed ideas and plotlines with Gary, but I’d been too embarrassed to let him read any. I’d only ever shared them with my sister. ‘You’re not just saying that?’
‘I promise I’m not. The characters are well developed and the plots are quite intricate.’
I placed Serenity down on the island and stared at Gary. ‘How much did you read?’
He hesitated. ‘All of them.’
‘Seriously? There must be seven or eight stories in there. When did you find the time?’
‘The early hours of the morning.’
‘So that’s why you look so tired.’
He nodded. ‘I honestly couldn’t put them down. There’s nine of them, by the way. I hope you’re not mad at me.’
I shook my head and smiled at him. ‘How could I be mad when you’ve re-discovered Ellorinia for me.’ I’d thought about it a lot since my conversation with Stevie, and even more since I’d doodled the sword, but I’d been unable to muster the energy to start over. Now I didn’t have to.
Gary gently placed Serenity into the crate and put the lid on it. ‘You know what this means, don’t you?’
I grinned. ‘I certainly do. We’ve just found me.’
34
The next few weeks seemed to whizz by. Much as I wanted to spend it reading my stories, I had to spend the rest of half-term in a flurry of marking work and lesson preparation.
The second half of the autumn term started with the usual frantic Christmas activities – rehearsals for the Christmas pantomime and the EGO equivalent, and planning the end of term party – plus parent consultations and an Ofsted inspection. I never seemed to have a moment spare, although any snatched minute I found, I spent re-discovering Ellorinia. The distractions kept me from doing the one thing I knew I had to do – talk to Daniel.
The week running up to Sarah’s hen do arrived and, with it, a new determination. This was the week. I was nearly seventeen weeks pregnant and the father had a right to know. Clare had been in regular contact about the hen do on our WhatsApp group but had also set up a group for the two of us on which she repeatedly urged me to make the announcement. I knew it made sense, especially as the deception was wearing me down. Once I’d told Daniel, I’d just go for it.
I resolved to text him after work on Monday and see if he could meet me one evening that week, but I picked up a voicemail before I had a chance: ‘Elise, it’s Lee. Jess is in labour. We’re on our way to the hospital.’
My heart thumping, I sat down heavily in the staff room.
‘Bad news?’ Graham sat down next to me.
‘Jess is in labour. That’s four-and-a-half weeks early.’
‘My cousin had twins five weeks early and they were absolutely fine. I’m sure Jess’s babies will be too. Do you want to go to the hospital? I can take your classes for you.’
I shook my head. ‘No. It’s fine. She could be in labour for hours.’
‘And she could have a caesarean. Go to the hospital, Elise.’
Graham had been right about the caesarean. Three hours later, I gave my first hug to my tiny five-pound-two-ounces nephew, Oliver James Grainger, and then traded him for two-ounces-lighter Emily Hannah Grainger. Holding my adorable sleeping niece, my thoughts turned to baby bean and how incredible it must feel to hold him or her when holding my sister’s babies felt so emotionally overwhelming.
‘Hey, don’t cry,’ Jess said. ‘You’ll find someone else and have your own baby one day.’
Yes, in about twenty-three weeks’ time, but this definitely wasn’t the moment to share that news. Instead, I said, ‘I know. In the meantime, I get two gorgeous babies to spoil and no sleepless nights or stinky nappies to change.’
‘I might let you off with the sleepless nights, but didn’t you realise that it’s in every auntie’s job description to be on stinky nappy-changing duty?’
‘As long as I get lots of cuddles as compensation.’ I handed Emily to Lee. ‘I think it’s time I left you two to enjoy your babies alone. Is she coming in?’
‘Mother?’ Jess shook her head and tears glistened in her eyes. ‘Lee phoned. She said she hates hospitals and she might come round when we get home. I think we can substitute might for won’t, can’t we?’
I knew she wanted me to say encouraging words and reassure her that of course our mother would visit but I couldn’t do it because I knew she was right – especially after what I’d overheard Mother saying at the wedding – and I wasn’t going to build any false hope.
‘Don’t let her get to you, Jess. You knew what she’d be like.’
‘True. I know she’s not exactly parent of the year material, but I thought she might feel differently about her grandchildren. Silly me. Lee’s parents are already on their way down from Aberdeen and Dad will fly over from Spain at the weekend, yet she lives ten minutes’ walk from here and can’t be arsed.’
Taking care not to squash Oliver, I gave Jess a hug. ‘I’m here too and I’m very proud of you both. I’ll be such a great auntie that they won’t miss their Grandma Morgan.’
‘I know you will. Thanks, sis.’
‘I’ll visit again tomorrow after school, whether you’re here or at home, but you may have to wait for presents because I was feeling superstitious about purchasing until I knew they’d arrived safely.’
I jabbed at the lift button and tapped my foot while I waited for the lift to arrive. Even though I’d overheard Mother expressing her disinterest in the twins at the wedding, I’d hoped she’d change her mind when they were actually born. Clearly not. What a stupid, selfish woman.
I was still muttering under my breath when I exited the lift on the ground floor and collided with someone. ‘Sorry.’ I looked up. ‘Stevie? What are you doing here?’ Butterflies flitted round my stomach at the unexpected sight of him.
‘Are you okay? Is something wrong with the baby?’
I smiled. ‘No. I’ve just been to see Jess. She’s had her twins.’
Stevie’s face lit up. ‘Really? What’s she had?’
Jess had decided to only tell family about the genders so I’d been sworn to secrecy. I’d become pretty good at keeping secrets. I told Stevie their names, weights and all the usual baby details. ‘They’re absolutely gorgeous,’ I said. ‘It was a bit strange thinking that, in about five months, I’ll be holding my own.’
‘How are you feeling?’
‘Good. The nausea has completely gone now. I’m tired, but I think everything’s fine otherwise.’
‘Have you told Daniel yet?’
I grimaced. ‘That’s my task for this week. I’ve been procrastinating because there’s no way he’ll take it well.’
‘Then he’s an idiot.’ Stevie frowned. ‘But we already know that because he let you go.’
The butterflies went crazy as he looked at me intently. I gazed at his mouth and found myself desperate to kiss him again. That brief moment at Seashel
l Cottage had felt amazing. If only I hadn’t had to stop it.
‘Erm, I’d better go,’ he said, breaking our gaze.
‘Of course. Why are you here, by the way? Are you okay?’
‘My Uncle George has had a minor op. I’m visiting him.’
‘Oh. Have fun.’ I shook my head. ‘That was such a stupid thing to say. Sorry.’
Stevie looked at me intently again. ‘Nothing you say is ever stupid. Look, I’d better go, but promise me you’ll let me know if you need me for anything. I mean that. Anything.’
‘I promise. Thank you.’
A moment of electricity passed between us. He seemed to move closer and closer ever so slowly then he pulled me into his embrace. ‘Congratulations on becoming an auntie.’
He looked embarrassed as he pulled away. The lift door opened at that moment and he dived into it, almost colliding with an elderly man trying to exit with a walking frame. ‘See you later,’ he said, then averted his gaze, only glancing back up and catching my eye in the last millisecond before the door closed.
I bit my lip as my pulse raced. Stop it! It’s not meant to be.
‘Elise! I didn’t expect to hear from you again.’
I sat in Bertie in the hospital car park and shuddered at the sound of his voice. ‘Hi Daniel. Are you free to meet me one night this week? Any night except Friday works for me.’
‘Meet me? Why?’
‘There’s something I want to talk to you about.’
‘Let me guess…’
My heart thumped. Could Michael have told him?
‘… You’re missing me. You’ve realised that you can’t bear life without me.’ His voice dripped with self-assured arrogance.
‘No, Daniel, that’s not it. I just want to talk.’
‘About getting back together?’
‘No, but I would like us to meet up.’
‘You’re after a one-night stand, eh? Works for me.’
I sighed. ‘You’re not listening to me. I just want to meet to talk about something. Something important.’
‘We’re talking about something important now. I have to admit, I have missed you. You were pretty good company as well as a damn good shag. How about you come over tonight? We can catch up on old times.’
‘Seriously, Daniel, what part of “we need to talk” don’t you understand?’
‘Talking’s over-rated. But if you really must talk, we can do that after we get reacquainted.’
Who was this guy? Had I been so badly on the rebound that I’d fallen for a smarmy sex-obsessed idiot like that? I only hoped there’d been a less smarmy act put on by him when we’d met because, if I’d been taken in by the person on the phone, I’d had one serious lapse of judgement.
‘Elise? Are you still there?’
‘I’m still here.’
‘When should I be expecting you?’
‘I think you’ll find it’s me who’s expecting.’
Silence.
‘Expecting what?’
‘Your baby, Daniel. I didn’t want to break it to you over the phone, but you’ve given me no choice. I’m nearly seventeen weeks pregnant.’
‘You’re shitting me.’
‘I’m not “shitting” anyone.’
More silence.
‘It’s not mine. We used precautions.’
‘Precautions aren’t infallible. It is yours.’
‘No, it’s not. Seventeen weeks? What’s that in months? It can’t be mine. It’s your gay husband’s.’
‘You know full well that I hadn’t had sex with Gary for at least eight months before I met you. Seventeen weeks is a little over four months. The baby is yours.’
More silence.
‘I… I can’t… I’m not…’
‘I’m bored of this conversation, so I’m about to hang up. The baby’s yours. I’m only telling you because I think you have a right to know. I don’t want anything from you, though, because I reckon you’ll be as crap a dad as you were a boyfriend. Goodbye.’ And I disconnected the call.
It was a cheap shot. Perhaps I wouldn’t have said it if I hadn’t been wound up by my mother’s don’t-care attitude, but it was done now. I could relax and get on with my life although relaxing might not be the right word; it was Sarah’s hen do at the weekend which meant more secrets and lies about why I wasn’t drinking. I certainly wasn’t going to take the focus off her on her own hen weekend by announcing my pregnancy. Maybe afterwards? I shook my head. Clare had been right; I should have bitten the bullet and made the announcement after the scan. Now I’d got too close to the big event and really would be stealing her thunder if I announced it, so, instead, I was in a tangled web of lies. Just like Gary. How easily it could happen.
35
✉︎ To Clare
Just wanted to thank you again for your support in hiding my secret this weekend. I don’t know what I’d have done without you these past months and those are words I never thought I’d say to you! How things change. Thank you so much. I really owe you one… several, in fact xxx
* * *
✉︎ From Clare
Don’t you be telling anyone I’ve gone soft. You’ll ruin my reputation! You know where I am if you need to talk xx
It was a little after eight on the Tuesday evening after the hen weekend and I was shattered. A combination of a long journey, sleeping in a strange bed, and a full day outdoors at the adult playground had taken their toll.
Lying throughout the weekend had been exhausting too. Over the phone on the Thursday night, Clare and I had concocted a story to explain why I wasn’t drinking and why I couldn’t drive any of the rough-terrain vehicles like the tank. I’d allegedly hurt my back moving the stage at school and was on some really strong painkillers which couldn’t be taken with alcohol. Fortunately, fourteen women and lots of activities kept everyone distracted and nobody noticed when I forgot to act like my back was giving me gyp.
We’d decided to go for a more leisurely Sunday with a trip to The Metro Centre in Gateshead – a huge shopping centre and leisure complex – on the way home. We’d agreed to split up to do what we wanted. With no energy to traipse round shops, I’d opted for the cinema with a few of the other hens and had fallen asleep within minutes of the film starting.
Sarah had a great time, which was the main thing, although she’d given me and Clare a strange look when we announced we were sharing a room. I caught her looking at us with suspicion on a couple of other occasions and wondered if she’d guessed, but Clare assured me that it was just the unexpected sight of us not sniping at each other constantly after years of having to dive in and play referee.
I yawned then put down the paperwork I’d planned to complete. It was no good. My bed was calling.
My phone beeped and my heart thumped faster when I saw who’d sent the text:
✉︎ From Stevie
How was the hen weekend? I bet you’re exhausted. Did you manage to keep things secret? xx
* * *
✉︎ To Stevie
Hi. It was brilliant but, you’re right, I’m shattered. I’m off to bed now! Clare told Sarah I’d hurt my back and was on painkillers so couldn’t drink. She seemed to accept that so my secret’s safe. For now. Hated lying, though. Thanks for asking. How was your weekend? xx
* * *
✉︎ From Stevie
Good. Long walk with Bonnie on Saturday, beers with Nick on the evening, then Sunday lunch with my Uncle George and another long walk with Meg while Uncle G slept in front of the TV farting! See you soon xx
* * *
✉︎ To Stevie
I don’t suppose you fancy
I shook my head and deleted what I’d written. Asking him out for a drink? What was I thinking? He’d made it clear he wasn’t interested anymore when he’d fled after seeing the scan.
Putting my phone down, I got into bed. I could hear Kay and Philip chatting downstairs, plus the occasional burst of laughter, and smiled as I wrapped the duvet round me. Kay h
ad confessed over the weekend that she and Philip were an item. Apparently it had started after the Bay Trade anniversary celebrations, but they’d wanted to keep it quiet while they both adjusted to their first relationship after losing the loves of their lives. They made such a great couple and I was thrilled that Kay had finally decided to let love in after shutting herself off to it for about forty years.
Listening to another burst of laughter made me realise that I’d completely and utterly outstayed my welcome. Kay would never say anything, but the arrangement was only ever meant to be temporary and I’d already been her lodger for… what? Four-and-a-half months? It was time I moved out and found somewhere to start afresh; just bean and me. I had the money from the house sale so there was nothing to stop me. In fact, if I didn’t act fast, I could still be living at Kay’s when baby bean made an appearance, which would definitely be pushing the boundaries of her hospitality.
House-hunting alone? Scary thought. Gary and I had looked at several properties together and I vividly remembered how useful it had been to have the two perspectives. I couldn’t enlist Sarah or Kay without explaining to them why I was looking for a family home and, with the wedding fast-approaching, I really couldn’t break the news. The timing had gone from bad to appalling.
There was only one person who could help me. But was it too cheeky? He’d said to let him know if I needed anything and it would be a great excuse to see him again, even if it was only platonically. Before I had time to talk myself out of it, I picked up my phone and typed a message:
✉︎ To Stevie
Hi again. Please tell me if this is over-stepping the mark, but can I ask you a huge favour? It’s time I moved out but I’m nervous about house-hunting alone and I can’t enlist anyone without giving up my secret. If I set up some appointments for after school this week and next week, is there any chance you could accompany me & be my voice of reason?
Finding Hope at Lighthouse Cove Page 26
