Getting over Gary (Whitsborough Bay Trilogy Book 2)

by Jessica Redland

  A subdued Curtis travelled back up to Glasgow after breakfast. He made some excuse about remembering he had to do the accounts so he needed to get an earlier train than the one he’d booked. He was lying, but I didn’t want to challenge him as I needed the me-time more than ever. I felt bad for not trying to talk him out of it, but he needed to learn that life wasn’t always about having fun and to hell with the consequences.

  As soon as I’d dropped him off at the station, I drove to a chemist’s in a part of town where nobody would know me and bought a pregnancy test. I couldn’t wait to get home to confirm the news so I drove to the nearby Sainsbury’s and used the customer toilets. I leaned against the cubicle door as I read the instructions then sat down on the toilet and peed on the stick… and my hand. Yuck.

  I’ve watched so many films and TV programmes where women wait the full three minutes then look at the stick. I couldn’t face timing it. Instead, I remained seated on the toilet and stared at the stick as if challenging it to tell me I was wrong. As soon as the urine started to soak up the testing strip, the line to tell me the test had worked appeared, immediately followed by a second blue line.

  Oh.

  That’s going to change things.

  A lot.

  I needed to think. I drove to my usual thinking spot in the parking area near the caves, but a brewing storm kept me inside Bertie. Rain spotted my windscreen with increasing ferocity and the waves ahead of me seemed to leap in protest at the addition of more water. It seemed apt that the waves were in turmoil — a fitting metaphor for my life.

  A beeping from my Blackberry disturbed my trance.

  * From Curtis

  Sorry again about last night’s game. Maybe it is time I grew up a bit. Been single too long. Makes me tamper in other people’s relationships, oblivious to their feelings. For what it’s worth, they both seem like great wee fellas. But remember you don’t have to pick either if they’re not right or you’re not ready for a relationship! Hope to see you soon, Red. Any time you fancy a trip to Glasgow and the best haircut you’ve ever had, give me a shout ((((hugs))))

  ‘Not ready for a relationship?’ I muttered. ‘Oh Curtis, you have no idea!’ I placed my Blackberry back into my handbag, beside the box containing the positive pregnancy test, and stared out at the wild sea again.

  * From Unknown

  Hi Elise, it’s Michael. Hope you don’t mind, but I made Daniel give me your number. Just wanted to drop you a quick text to say I hope you’re OK. You didn’t look well when you left last night. Hope you managed to get a good night’s sleep and feel better for it this morning. I know I probably should ring to do this, but you might be having a lie-in and I don’t like to disturb you… would you like to go out for a drink with me one night next week? Hope to hear from you soon. Michael x

  * From Stevie

  Morning. How are you feeling? Was really worried about you last night. Sarah says you’ve still got that gastric flu. Can you face a visitor this afternoon or this evening? Would love to see you if possible xxx

  I leaned back in the car seat and flicked between the two text messages. Michael was definitely asking for a date, but was Stevie? Hard to tell. Stevie and I knew each other better so perhaps it was just the more informal approach of his text. I could easily put Stevie off a visit today by citing illness, but how would I tell Michael I couldn’t see him at any point next week? I wished he’d put a specific day as I could at least say I was busy then. My shoulders sank. I hated lying. Hated it. But what else could I say? I wasn’t ready to tell anyone that I didn’t really have gastric flu because, surprise, surprise, what I actually had was a little more long-term than that. And I didn’t want to just say ‘no’ by text without providing a reason.

  At that moment, the reality hit me. Oh my goodness. Michael had just asked me on a date, oblivious to the fact that I was pregnant with his brother’s baby. The brother he hated. The brother who’d impregnated Michael’s fiancée then married her while he was overseas. The brother who’d made her abort her second pregnancy. That all-round nice guy. I certainly didn’t do things by halves, did I?

  I stared out at the sea again, twiddling my Blackberry round in my hand, and eventually came to a decision. Gary had effectively strung me along for years. I wasn’t going to do the same to Stevie or Michael. Before my discovery, I’d already been ninety per cent sure I didn’t want another relationship, but now I was one hundred per cent sure.

  * To Stevie

  Thanks for your concern. Still feeling a bit icky today so just want to rest. How about we meet up on Tuesday night?

  * To Michael

  Thanks for your concern. Feeling a bit sick today, but hopefully better soon. How about we meet up on Wednesday night?

  I’d let them both down gently, that’s what I’d do. If it was a date, that was. Stevie’s message could be read either way and, coming to think of it, Michael could just be showing friendly concern after his brother’s infidelity. Oh crap! Infidelity! Was I going to need to be tested for STIs too? We’d used condoms. I knew they were only ninety-eight percent effective and had planned to go on the pill too, just in case, but I hadn’t got round to registering with a new doctor, had I? Trust me to be in the two percent protection failure statistics and with someone who clearly liked to spread the love around.

  I stared at my stomach and shook my head. I’d finally got what I’d desired for years, but this wasn’t the way I’d planned or expected. I recalled telling Gary that, if I had a baby, it would be with a husband who cared about me rather than the sperm-donor situation he’d suggested. That hadn’t happened. Maybe I should have taken him up on his offer after all as I may not have had a husband that way, but at least my baby would have had a devoted father. My current situation brought me neither. There was no way Daniel would want to be involved; just look at his track record with babies. And I certainly wasn’t going to get involved with him again. But I couldn’t get involved with anyone else either because that would hardly be fair on them. Well, I’d just got the me-time I wanted and I’d better make the most of it because, in seven or so months’ time, it would be in very short supply!

  I drove back to Smuggler’s View where I rummaged in my drawers for an A4 notepad and pen. I sat on my bed and wrote at the top of a fresh page, ‘THE NEW ELISE’. Right. What did I want to achieve between now and the birth? What had I always wanted to do that was purely for me? Hmm.

  I stared at the blank page as the minutes ticked past. I put the pad down and stared out of the window. I picked it up again. Put it down. Picked it up. Yet it remained blank and I couldn’t stand it. I sighed and began doodling in the margin while I willed some sort of plan to present itself. Half an hour later, the page was full… of doodles. Great. I ripped off the page and was about to scrumple it up when my eyes were drawn to an image in the centre of the page. An image from the past. I gasped. ‘The sword of Ellorinia. Oh my goodness. I want to write again.’

  Chapter 29

  For someone who hates lying, the following week seemed to be one lie after another as I embarked on my two evenings of ‘dates’ with Stevie then Michael. I’d had to start by telling a white lie to Sarah when cancelling my regular Wednesday visit. I didn’t want to tell her I was seeing Michael instead, especially as it could get back to Stevie and hurt him. It was only after I’d sent my text that I’d remembered that she knew him from Bay Trade so might find out the truth anyway. This was why lies were best avoided; the liar was usually caught out. On the actual dates, I preferred to think of it as more about avoiding the truth than telling lies.

  I’d enjoyed both evenings and, under other circumstances, would have found myself torn as to whom I was most drawn towards. Stevie was great fun and my sides had actually hurt from laughing so much. Michael had a good sense of humour too, but he also had an intensity to him so the evening hadn’t felt quite as light-hearted.

  Keeping focus and
steering the conversation to avoid any sort of acknowledgement that we were on a date had been pretty exhausting. I’d then probably confused them both with a speedy end to the evening, citing fatigue and work the next day.

  By Friday night, I was exhausted, confused, and very much looking forward to a relaxing evening while Kay was out taking photos with Philip. I logged onto my laptop and checked my emails.

  Hi Elise & Clare

  Hen do update: Contacted that adult playground and I’ve managed to negotiate a great deal that I’d like to run by you both.

  Clare — I’m assuming you’ll be over next weekend for Sarah’s birthday. Can we meet up? Or even this weekend if you’re coming up tonight or tomorrow.

  How are you both getting on with your tasks?

  Love Callie xx

  Damn! I’d been so wrapped up in my own little world that I’d completely forgotten that I had bridesmaid responsibilities. After our aborted meeting, Callie had emailed us both and we’d agreed on the format for Sarah’s hen do.

  I scrolled through my inbox until I found another email from Callie to shed some light on what I’d been allocated, because I couldn’t for the life of me remember. Oh yes, I was apparently going to look into reasonably-priced accommodation and meals for two nights. It wasn’t exactly a difficult task. Best get my act together.

  Another email arrived.

  Hi Callie/Elise

  Moving into my new flat tomorrow so this weekend’s out. Will be across the weekend after. Nick’s taking Sarah out for a b’day meal on the Friday night, so I wasn’t planning to come over till Saturday afternoon. Can come across earlier. Done my research plus thought of a list of who to invite to compare against Elise’s.

  Clare

  Clearly I was the weakest link on Team Bridesmaids. Not only had I not looked into accommodation, but I’d also forgotten that Clare and I were meant to be making a list of potential invitees and comparing them. Maybe I’d do the list. Hotels were a bigger task so better done with more time. Tomorrow perhaps.

  Hi both

  I’m free next Saturday morning. Research is going well. Will share findings next weekend.

  Elise

  I cringed as I typed my response. More lies, but I couldn’t face the risk of a lecture from Clare if I confessed I’d forgotten. We needed to maintain that truce.

  Hi Elise & Clare

  Brilliant! How about 10.30 a.m. in The Chocolate Pot next Saturday? Bring your lists and research, plus any other ideas and we’ll get it all sorted on Saturday. I’ll bring red cards in case you two kick off again! ;)

  Callie xx

  I closed down my laptop and rolled my weary shoulders. It was only eight, but my PJs were beckoning. I padded upstairs, removed my school clothes and slipped on a fresh pair of shorty PJs. I loosened my hair clip, shaking my curls out. That felt good.

  As I wiped cotton pads over my eyes to remove my make-up, I reflected on my midwife appointment after school. It had felt so alien actually saying the words, ‘I’m pregnant’ to someone for the first time, especially a complete stranger. I’d always imagined the first time I said those words aloud would be to Gary, having discovered I was expecting his baby. How things had changed.

  I headed down to the lounge with a notepad and pen to compile my list of invitees, flicked the TV on, then lit a couple of scented candles before curling up on the sofa. I divided the page into two and wrote ‘friends’ on top of one column and ‘family’ on the other. That was as far as I got. My mind kept drifting. I imagined the conversation with Daniel to tell him I was expecting his baby and how he might react. Definitely not very well. I imagined telling Sarah and having her lecture me for stealing the thunder from her wedding. I imagined not being able to fit into the bridesmaid dress we’d ordered and made a mental note to discreetly ask Ginny if she could change my order to a bigger size. That was a point. How pregnant would I be at the wedding? I rolled off the sofa, wandered into the kitchen, took Kay’s calendar off its hook and counted down the weeks. Twenty-one weeks or thereabouts. Five months. Do you show at five months? Jess was nearly that with the twins at her wedding and barely showed, but I had no idea if that was typical.

  I opened my laptop and fired it up again. It seemed that, for a first baby, I probably wouldn’t show too much although, of course, every pregnancy was different. My baby would weigh about three quarters of a pound, be about twenty-six centimetres long and be properly kicking. I lifted my PJs top and stroked my stomach. Wow! That was hard to imagine. I wondered what baby was doing now. I clicked on another link and discovered that, at about eight weeks pregnant, baby would be the size of a kidney bean. ‘It’s just you and me, baby bean,’ I whispered. ‘I promise I’ll be a good mummy. I’ll be completely different to my mother. I’ll be such a good mummy that you won’t miss having a daddy because I doubt very much that Daniel’s going to want anything to do with you. In fact, I bet he’ll want me to get rid of you like poor Amber’s baby and there’s no way I’m doing that. It’s not your fault. I don’t think we’ll tell him for a long time yet. I don’t think we’ll tell anyone for a long time yet. We’ll keep it as our little secret.’

  A knock on the door startled me. I was in my PJs! I glanced round the room. Kay had left a long grey cardigan draped over the armchair. I grabbed that and pulled it tightly round me as I answered the door. ‘Stevie? Hi.’

  ‘Hi. Sorry for dropping by unannounced, but I was in the area.’ He shook his head. ‘That’s a lie. I came especially to see you and to give you these.’ He handed me a stunning bouquet of orange, yellow, and cream flowers.

  ‘Thank you.’ I took them with shaking hands and a thumping heart. ‘They’re beautiful. But what are they for?’

  ‘Lots of reasons. Because you’ve been poorly, because you’ve had such a tough time lately, and because you deserve to be spoiled. And I’d like to be the person to spoil you… if you’d let me.’ It wasn’t fair. It was a good line and, under other circumstances, would have worked very well.

  ‘Do you want to come in?’ I said. I was going to have to make it clear to him that a relationship wasn’t on the cards. It wasn’t fair of me to have avoided the subject on Tuesday night.

  He nodded. ‘Only if it’s not too inconvenient.’

  ‘Stevie, you could never be an inconvenience.’ His eyes caught mine and looked hopeful for a moment. I imagined him giving me one of his super-hugs, but this time the feeling was accompanied by butterflies in my stomach. I hadn’t had those before around Stevie. What was happening to me? It must be the hormones. Yes, that was it, a mix of hormones and vulnerability. It would go. Soon. I stepped back and indicated that he should squeeze past me. ‘Cup of tea?’

  ‘Yes please.’

  ‘Go through to the lounge and make yourself comfortable.’ And then I remembered what I’d been looking at online when he knocked. I scooted past him. ‘You’d better give me a second first.’ I dived into the room and closed the laptop. Phew! ‘You can come in now. I was just checking that I had no snotty tissues around the place.’ I hoped it sounded like a plausible explanation for my odd behaviour.

  Butterflies continued to dance as I gently placed the flowers in a vase while the kettle boiled. I jumped at another knock on the door. ‘I won’t be a minute,’ I shouted to Stevie. ‘I’ll just see who that is.’

  Pulling the cardigan around me again, I opened the front door. ‘Michael?’

  ‘I’m sorry to interrupt your evening,’ he said, ‘but I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since Wednesday. I bought you these.’ He handed me a bouquet in pinks and purples.

  ‘They’re gorgeous, Michael, but—’

  ‘Sorry, Elise, but can I just say something because I’m going to chicken out like I did on Wednesday if I don’t get on with it?’

  I gulped. ‘Okay.’ I glanced back down the hall towards the lounge. Could Stevie hear? Oh my
goodness, what could I do? I couldn’t shuffle up the hall and shut the lounge door without making Michael suspicious, I couldn’t tell Michael to shut up, and I couldn’t step outside in broad daylight in my PJs and a cardigan.

  Michael took a deep breath. ‘I know I wasn’t very friendly when we first met, but you know that was about Daniel rather than you. As I got to know you, I could tell you were different from the string of silly young girls he usually brings home and I found myself liking you more and more. After what happened with Amber, I never wanted to let anyone get close to me again, but as I got to know you, I realised I’d take that risk for you. I wanted to say this on Saturday, but I screwed up with that game your friend started so I asked you out this week to try and recover it, but I lost my nerve then too. I wondered if you’d go out with me. Properly. On a date. Not just as friends.’

  What a beautiful, heartfelt speech. A tear slipped down my cheek.

  Michael chewed on his thumbnail. ‘I’ve made you cry! Was it that bad?’

  I shook my head and wiped at the rogue tear. ‘No. It was lovely. I’m sorry, though. It has to be a no.’

  ‘Is it because of Daniel? I can move out. Or I can kick him out. I was there first after all. You don’t have to see him again.’

  ‘It’s not Daniel,’ I said. ‘It’s not you either, Michael. It’s me.’ I groaned. ‘I can’t believe I just said that. It sounds like such a cliché and I don’t mean it to. I can’t give you a proper reason right now and I’m really sorry for that, but I can’t get involved. I should have said so on Wednesday. You’re not the only one who chickened out of things.’

  ‘I thought there was something between us that night at the car park.’

  There was! But I didn’t want him to cling onto that and turn it into a ray of hope. ‘I do like you, Michael, but just as a friend. In the car park, I think I was just caught up in the moment. I was upset. You were there for me.’