‘I don’t need this crap right now, Ben. Not with Nana so sick.’
‘I know. I know,’ Ben says. ‘But maybe he wants to clear the air. You were together a long time, Hols. Broken up or not, he probably just wants to make sure you’re okay. He knows how close you are to Nana.’
‘Yeah, I suppose.’ I swallow. ‘I should talk to him, shouldn’t I?’
Ben smiles. ‘Yeah, you should.’ Ben turns around to face the kitchen again. ‘I’ll give you guys some space. I’m going to make some coffee. Do you want some?’
‘Ugh.’ I moan loudly, the thought of drinking more makes me feel sick again. ‘God, no. Not more coffee. But Nate might like a cup. Can you give us, um … ten minutes or so … and then bring some in to us?’
‘Holly, what’s going on? Is this really serious?’ Ben’s asks. ‘So serious you can’t even be alone with Nate for longer than ten minutes?’
‘Ben, please?’ I say, my eyes pleading with him not to ask any more questions. ‘Just come in after ten minutes. Promise?’
‘Holly.’ Ben rolls his shoulders back and stretches his neck; I haven’t seen him stand tall or straight since I arrived yesterday. ‘Do you want me to talk to Nate instead? Do you want me to tell him to leave?’
I shake my head. I know Ben likes Nate. They like the same football team, and they’re both obsessed with shiny sports cars with enormous engines. Even if I wanted Nate to leave, I wouldn’t expect Ben to give him his marching orders.
I press my fingers into my eyelids for a second, and it helps to relieve some of the pressure building inside my head. I walk towards the front room.
‘Hols,’ Ben calls after me. ‘Coffee in ten minutes, it is.’
‘Thanks,’ I mumble, taking determined steps forward.
Ben disappears behind the kitchen door, and it swings closed behind him with a subtle thud. I take a moment to stand alone in the hall, and I savour the silence. I want to cry. I’m desperate to. I want to cry because I’m frightened of what my family will become without Nana as the glue to hold us all together. I want to cry because my heart is breaking for my mother. I can’t imagine what it must feel like to know you’re an orphan. Even if you’re a grown woman with children of your own, it doesn’t make losing a parent bearable. And I want to cry because Nate and I are not the couple we once were, and I so desperately wish I could fix us. But just as I can’t make Nana better or heal my mother’s heart, I don’t think I can repair the rift between Nate and me.
Twelve
Nate is standing with his back to the door, gazing out the window. He doesn’t hear me come into the room, and I stand behind him for a couple of seconds before I’m brave enough to whisper his name.
‘Holly,’ he says, instantly turning around to face me.
He’s wearing my favourite tailored navy suit, and I wonder if he chose it on purpose. He’s also wearing a blue and grey striped tie that I hate, so I know he didn’t consider his outfit after all. I think that’s a relief. Nate knows we have bigger problems than his baby-faced good looks can usually solve. Looking past his dapper clothes, I notice the dark circles under his eyes and the newly etched tired lines on his forehead. He must be sleeping as badly as I am.
Nate takes a deep breath, and I watch his chest rise; he holds it for a long time, and when he finally lets out a huge sigh, I can hear the emotion weighing him down.
‘Hols, I’m so sorry,’ he says, taking a baby step forward.
I shake my head and open my mouth, but no sound comes out. My feet seem to move independent of my body, and without thinking, I find myself racing towards him. Nate opens his arms, and I fall into a quivering mess the instant my chest collides with his. He gathers my heaving body into his arms and tucks my shaking frame close to him. The top of my head fits as neatly as ever under his chin, and when he lowers his head, I can feel his warm breath fall gently on my head. We stand, tangled together like a ball of knotted twine, for long time without a single word.
Finally, when my legs become wobbly, and I know Nate worries I’m going to faint, he suggests we sit. I don’t want to pull away from the comfort of Nate’s warm body, but he makes the decision for me. Taking a step back, he reaches for my hand and leads me towards the floral couch in the large floor-to-ceiling bay window. I glance at my watch, suddenly regretting asking Ben to come in after ten minutes. It doesn’t leave me much time to talk to Nate.
‘How are you feeling?’ Nate asks once we’re both seated.
We’re sitting side by side, but there’s a narrow gap between us. I allow my knee nearest him to flop slightly, dragging my thigh to brush up against his.
‘Are you still getting sick?’ he asks, shifting slightly so he can face me, but he keeps his leg pressed against mine.
I scrunch my face and nod. ‘Yeah. It’s not as bad as it was, but I still feel awful.’
‘Have you told your mom about the baby yet?’ he whispers as if he’s afraid of the answer.
‘I can’t. She has enough to worry about. I can’t drop all this on her too. The timing is so bad.’
‘Have you thought any more about what you want to do?’ Nate asks.
I suck air roughly through my nose, giving myself an instant headache. I jerk my leg away from Nate and stand.
‘Hols, c’mon,’ Nate says softly. ‘I don’t want to upset you, but we need to discuss this. You need to discuss it.’
‘I don’t want to discuss it,’ I growl, pacing the floor.
‘I know you don’t,’ Nate says, standing up. ‘But you have to.’
‘Did you discuss it last week when you pissed off to Ibiza, Nate?’ I shout, frustrated tears blurring my vision. ‘No, you bloody didn’t. You just drank yourself stupid. I saw the Facebook photos.’
‘Holly, you wouldn’t talk to me.’ Nate lowers his head. ‘I didn’t know what to do.’
‘And Ibiza seemed like a solution, did it?’ I snap.
Nate folds his arms and tilts his head to one side. ‘No. Ibiza was an escape, Holly. I needed a fucking escape. You won’t talk to me. You won’t tell me what you’re feeling or thinking. I don’t know how to help you. You’re the one pushing me away, and the more I try to get you to talk to me, the more you push me away. You’re the one who said you wanted a break. You said that, Holly. Not me. I said I never wanted to leave you, remember. I said we’d get through this together.’
I run my tongue along the inside of my teeth, desperate for something to do with my mouth other than talk. I do remember. Christ, I was such a bitch. I needed someone to take the pain out on. It should never have been Nate. Never.
‘I’m cracking up here,’ Nate admits. ‘It’s my baby too, Holly. Don’t you think my heart is breaking just as much as yours is?’
I drop my head and press two fingers into the gap above my nose and between my eyes, hoping to relieve some of the pressure inside my pounding head.
‘Not compatible with life. That’s what they said,’ I begin to cry. My baby. I just want our baby to be well. My hand falls instinctively to my growing bump.
Nate sighs heavily, and his arms unlock and flop lifelessly by his sides. ‘I know, Hols. I know. I was there too.’
‘It’s not fair, Nate. It’s not fair. Our baby is going to die. And there’s nothing we can do about it.’
‘I know, Hols.’ Nate grabs me and clings to me so tight, I feel my bones might snap, but I don’t want him to let go.
‘And Nana,’ I say as hot, salty tears burn their way down my cheeks. ‘Nana’s going to die too. Soon, Nate. So soon.’
I hear Nate swallow hard, and I feel his body shake, but he doesn’t speak. We sway back and forth on the spot, beating out a slow, even rhythm, and every so often, Nate stops and stills as he kisses me on the top of the head. It’s as if for a moment, we’re in a bubble, just the two of us, and the bad stuff of the real world can’t burst it. But it’s only for a moment. We’re drawn back to the here and now by a gentle knock on the door before it creaks open and Ben’s head
appears in the gap.
‘Coffee anyone?’ He smiles.
‘Thanks, man,’ Nate says. ‘Coffee would be good.’
‘Jesus, Holly. What’s wrong?’ Ben says swinging the door wide open and barging into the room. ‘What have you said to her?’ Ben glares at Nate.
Nate sighs and shakes his head. Silence falls over us for a moment, and the tension in the room is unbearable.
‘Holly.’ Ben says my name like a schoolteacher trying to command the attention of a mischievous pupil. ‘What’s going on in here? Are you okay?’
I suck my bottom lip between my teeth and force my teary eyes to seek out my brother’s worried face. ‘Not really okay,’ I admit.
Ben pulls himself as tall as he can stretch, which is still a half a foot shorter than Nate, and rolls his shoulders up and back, clearly in an attempt to be assertive. ‘Look, man, maybe you should go. This is a very difficult time for our family. Holly told me you guys are going through a breakup, and I’m sorry, but now is not the time for all that. Holly’s clearly very upset.’
‘It’s a break. Not a breakup, Ben,’ Nate explains calmly. ‘Holly and I have some difficult stuff going on right now, and we’re both struggling. But I really care about Annie. She’s always been very lovely to me, and if it’s okay with your family, I would really like to stay. I would like to be here for Holly. But I’d like to be here for Annie too.’
Ben shrinks as he blows out a huge puff of coffee stanched air. ‘Holly?’
I nod. ‘I want Nate to stay, Ben. I need him here.’
‘Okay.’ Ben softens. ‘But can one of you please tell me what’s going on?’
Nate looks at me with heartbreak heavy eyes, and even though I wince, my eyes let Nate know it’s time to tell Ben.
‘Holly’s pregnant,’ Nate puffs out.
‘Oh, my God,’ Ben exclaims, throwing his hands in the air. ‘That’s amazing news. Congratulations.’
Nate and I don’t move. Or speak.
‘What?’ Ben says, dropping his hands as quickly as they shot up. ‘What is it? I thought you’d be thrilled.’
‘The baby’s not well.’ Nate swallows.
Ben’s face falls, and a pasty grey invades his cheeks. He was the same colour earlier when Nana had trouble breathing.
‘Not well?’ Ben echoes. ‘What do you mean not well?’
‘We had a scan a couple of weeks ago,’ I say numbly. ‘They found a problem with the baby’s kidneys and heart.’
‘Okay.’ Ben nods, his mouth gapping a little. ‘So the little tike might need surgery once it’s born. You hear of kids having heart surgery all the time, don’tcha?’
‘It’s … it’s … not that straightforward,’ Nate says.
‘But kids are resilient. They bounce back.’ Ben fidgets.
My heart hurts. I know Ben is trying to be positive and encourage Nate and me to feel better, but no kind words can help us.
‘It’s called Edwards Syndrome.’ I clear my throat with a jagged cough. ‘It’s very serious.’
Ben seems to shrink. He always looks small and stocky when he’s standing beside Nate, but suddenly, Ben seems positively tiny.
‘I’ve never heard of Edwards Syndrome,’ Ben confesses.
I shrug. ‘Neither had we. But the doctors explained, and I’ve googled it a lot. There’s not much hope.’
‘Oh shit, Hols.’ Ben shakes his head. ‘What about in the States? They have medical advances all the time. Maybe that’s an option?’
‘Ben,’ I say, sternly commanding his composed attention. ‘We might not even make it to term.’
‘Oh, God.’ Ben looks like he might pass out. ‘I’m so sorry. I can’t imagine how hard this must be for you both.’
‘It’s pretty shit,’ Nate admits bluntly. ‘Holly and I were so excited when we found out she was pregnant. The first thing Holly said to me was that she couldn’t wait to tell Annie. Four generations of Talbots …’ Nate trickles off midsentence, and no one picks up from there; we all just stand around staring at our feet as if the answer to life’s problems were written on the tips of our toes.
‘Have you told Nana yet?’ Ben says, finally looking up.
‘I didn’t tell her, but Marcy says she knows I’m pregnant,’ I whisper.
‘Really?’ Ben’s eyes light up. ‘What did Nana say?’
‘Nothing yet,’ I explain. ‘She doesn’t know that I know she knows. I don’t know how to talk to her about it. She’ll be so happy for me, I know she will, and I don’t want to tell her that the baby is sick. It’ll break her heart.’
Ben closes his eyes and the paleness in his face seems to stretch out and cover his whole body. ‘It’s so unfair, Holly,’ he murmurs. ‘You shouldn’t have to go through this. Especially not now.’
‘Promise me you won’t tell anyone,’ I say, taking his hand and giving it a gentle shake to gain his full attention. ‘Promise, Ben.’
‘Okay. Okay. Of course. My lips are sealed.’
‘Thank you.’ I swallow.
‘But if there’s anything you need. Or if you want to talk …’ Ben shuffles his feet. ‘Or if you don’t want to talk. I don’t know. Just … Well, I’m here. I’m always here, Holly. And Nate,’ Ben says, dragging his eyes slowly away from me to find Nate who has walked away to stare out the window. ‘We can talk, man. If you’d like? I mean, like I said, I don’t know anything about Edwards Syndrome, but I’d like to learn, if you’re feeling up to filling me in?’
Nate turns slowly around. ‘Yeah, sure. It’d be good to discuss it.’ Nate answers Ben, but his eyes are on me.
Nate’s usually bright blue eyes are darker today and troubled like the sea after a winter storm. Heartbreak is scribbled into the delicate lines around his cherry lips, and I have to look away. If I don’t, I’ll crumple and cry. It’s hard to breathe as if air suddenly weighs so much and each inhale tumbles oxygen into my chest like a concrete brick attempting to smash up my insides.
‘Could you both do something for me?’ I ask, rubbing my hands up and down my folded arms, trying to jog some energy into my bones.
‘Sure?’ Ben says, sounding casual, but I can read him like a book, and I know he’s struggling to process everything he’s just been told.
Nate doesn’t reply, but his half smile and his beautiful, sad eyes burning into me tell me he would do anything for me. And I believe him.
‘There’s a painting. It’s Nana’s,’ I begin, feeling myself become lighter just thinking about it. ‘It’s a watercolour painting of an orchard. A friend of Nana’s painted it years ago. He gave it to her when they were just twenty years old. It’s very special.’
‘I don’t think I’ve ever seen a painting of an orchard,’ Ben says, stroking his chin between his thumb and index finger, and I know he’s mentally running through all the rooms in Nana’s house, scanning the walls as he tries to envisage where the painting might be hanging.
‘I’ve never seen it either,’ I reassure. ‘But it’s really, really special. Too special to just hang up on the wall like any old photo or picture.’
‘Do you think Nana has it hidden away somewhere, then?’ Ben asks, making his chin red as he strokes so roughly.
‘Not hidden, really. More like just put away for safekeeping,’ I suggest.
‘I see.’ Ben sighs. ‘Well, where would she keep something so special? I mean, there are loads more cardboard boxes in the attic. We could search there, I suppose.’
I scrunch my nose. ‘I don’t know. I don’t think it’s in the attic. I think she’d keep it somewhere else. But we really need to find it. Before it’s too late.’
‘Okay,’ Nate says, dragging himself away from the window to come stand next to me with his hands dangling by his side. ‘I’ll help Ben. We’ll find it. Don’t worry.’
‘There’s not much time.’ I gargle, the words getting caught in the back of my throat.
‘I know. I know,’ Nate whispers; his arm sweeps around my waist, and he rubs the small
of my back. ‘We’ll find it, Hols. I promise.’
Thirteen
I hear the rumble of Sketch’s car tyres as they roll slowly over the stony muck outside that masquerades as a driveway. I run my fingers through my hair and get most of the stubborn knots out. I wind my hair around itself, make a hole in the middle and pull the end through. It’s long enough to twist into a bun and hold without a hair tie. It’s slightly greasy on top, so it should hold without any stray bits flying away. I want to make a good impression on my first day even if it is also my last.
The firm knock on the front door makes me jump, and I smile to myself as I realise my heart is racing with a combination of nerves and excitement. I slip my feet into my shoes that have dried out over the weekend, causing the leather to wrinkle and press uncomfortably against my toes.
‘You have her back here by five o’clock. Not a minute later, you hear?’ my father says, his deep voice carries down the corridor to shake me.
‘Of course, Sir,’ I hear Sketch agree. ‘Five o’clock on the dot.’
I hurry up the corridor and make sure I don’t seem giddy or excited when my father turns around to eye me up.
‘All my chores are done, Pa,’ I promise. ‘And I left an extra bucket of logs by the fire in case you run out.’
I turn around to the sound of my mother’s heels clip-clopping across the floor behind me. ‘You work hard now today, Annie,’ she says. ‘Make sure Mr. Talbot gets his money’s worth, won’t you?’
‘Of course, Ma.’ I smile brightly. ‘I won’t let anyone down.’
‘That’s a good girl now.’ My mother takes off her cardigan, shakes it out, and reaches across me to drape it over my shoulders. ‘To keep you warm,’ she says.
I can feel the heat of her body cling to the navy and teal knitted cardigan, and I savour the warmth. I slide my arms into the sleeves and pull it around myself, wrapping one side over the other across my chest to keep it closed and compensate for the missing buttons. There’s a large hole under the left arm of my dress where the stitching has yielded to countless wears. The itchy, wool finds its way into the hole to stroke my skin. I want to twist and shake and relieve the itch but everyone’s eyes are on me.
When It Rains: The bittersweet romance you won't want to miss Page 10
