Getting over Gary (Whitsborough Bay Trilogy Book 2)

by Jessica Redland

  ‘Yes sir! See you next week.’

  I sat on the stairs for a few more minutes replaying our conversation in my head and grinned. New Year with Stevie? Lovely. I just wished it wasn’t so far away.

  I stood up. It was time. I wandered down the hallway into the lounge where dad was handing out cups of tea and coffee. Here goes…

  ‘Dad, Jess, and Lee, while we’re all together, there’s something I need to tell you that may come as a bit of a surprise…’

  Chapter 40

  * To Stevie

  I did it! You gave me the encouragement I needed to tell Dad and Jess yesterday and they were really excited for me. It was the right thing to do. Thank you xx

  * From Stevie

  So pleased for you. I hope I didn’t preach too much xx

  * To Stevie

  I needed the push. The next conversation won’t be so easy… :(

  * From Stevie

  Your mum? I’m happy to come along as moral support if you want

  I couldn’t impose on him with that, could I? After her scathing attack on me when I’d told her I was splitting up with Gary, I really didn’t relish telling her the baby news on my own. Not that she’d give a damn given what I’d overheard her telling Dad.

  * To Stevie

  If you really mean that, I’d be eternally grateful xxx

  * From Stevie

  I really mean it. You tell me when and where. We’ll face this together xxx

  ‘This was a bad idea,’ I said a few days later as a man in his forties burst through the door of The Flag Inn, fought through a crowd of smokers, threw up over the withered raised flower bed in the car park, wiped his mouth, then staggered back inside to cheers and pats on the back from the smokers.

  Stevie took hold of my hand and pulled me away from Bertie. ‘C’mon. You can do this, Elise. I’ll be right by your side.’

  ‘She’s not very pleasant, you know.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘She brings out the worst in me. You might not want me to spend New Year with you after you see us together.’

  Stevie squeezed my hand. ‘I know who the real Elise is and, if things get ugly in there, I know it’s down to your mum, not you.’

  I nodded and sighed. ‘As long as we’ve got that crystal clear. Okay, let’s do this.’ We walked towards the door. ‘Did I warn you that she’ll probably be wearing a nightie?’

  Stevie stopped and stared at me. ‘To the pub? In the middle of winter?’

  I cleared my throat. ‘I’m afraid so. She says they’re cheaper and prettier than dresses.’

  ‘Oh. Okay. That’s certainly different.’

  ‘My mother is different. As you’re about to find out.’

  I held my breath as we passed through the smokers then released it slowly as we stepped into the pub, knowing that the aroma inside wouldn’t be much better.

  ‘Urgh. It stinks of BO in here,’ whispered Stevie.

  ‘I know. We won’t stay long. I promise.’

  I headed to the bar and ordered a pint for Stevie, a mineral water for me, and a double whiskey without ice for Mother. ‘She’s over there, next to the jukebox,’ I whispered to Stevie. ‘And she is wearing a nightie.’

  Stevie gasped. ‘So she is. Wow. That’s… er… pretty special.’

  ‘Isn’t it. Let’s get this over with.’

  I placed the drink down in front of her. She smiled without looking up.

  ‘Hello Mother.’ I sat down, indicating to Stevie that he should sit too.

  She looked up. ‘Ah! The divorcee. What a treat.’ She pointed to the drink. ‘From you?’

  ‘Yes. Happy Christmas.’

  ‘It is now.’ She took a gulp. ‘Who’s the loser?’

  I grimaced at her rudeness. ‘This is my friend, Stevie. Stevie, this is my mother, Marian.’

  Stevie held out his hand, but she ignored it. ‘Pleased to meet you Mrs Dawson.’

  ‘It’s Marian. I’m not married to that arsehole anymore.’

  ‘That “arsehole” is my dad,’ I snapped. I reached for her glass and lifted it above my head. ‘Can we drop the insults or I tip this on the floor.’

  Her eyes widened with fear as she reached for the glass.

  ‘Can we, Mother?’

  ‘Okay. I’ll play nicely. Just give me my drink back.’

  ‘Say thank you.’

  ‘Ooh, we are feisty today, aren’t we? Have you finally grown a pair?’

  ‘SAY THANK YOU.’

  Stevie placed a hand on my knee and gave me a reassuring squeeze.

  ‘Thank you,’ she snarled.

  I placed her drink back on the table and took a swig of mine, wishing it was something stronger than water.

  ‘So, your divorce isn’t through yet and you’ve already found another mug. I guess some women can’t cope without a man in their lives, can they?’

  So much for dropping the insults, but at least she’d stopped attacking Dad. I toyed with retorting, but what was the point. A battle of words would just frustrate me and give her great pleasure. ‘Stevie’s not a mug. We’re just friends. And I can cope on my own.’

  She laughed and pushed a matted curl behind her ear. ‘When’s the big day?’

  ‘I’ve just told you, we’re not getting married.’

  ‘Not even set a date yet? Scared of losing the deposit when it all goes wrong?’

  ‘When what goes wrong, Mother?’

  ‘Your relationship. I give it a year from now, if you’re lucky. It won’t last long enough to make it up the aisle unless… ooh, don’t tell me you’re knocked up. Because if you are, maybe you’ll tie the knot out of duty, but mark my words, you’ll both be miserable. Because that’s what happens when people get married and have children. I should know. Ruined my life, didn’t it?’

  Stevie gasped. ‘Could you be any ruder? That’s your daughter you’re talking to. How can you be so cruel?’

  ‘Oh, it speaks,’ Mother slurred. ‘And it’s feisty too. I can see why you ditched the doctor for this one. I bet he’s a bit of a go-er.’

  ‘That’s it.’ I stood up and grabbed her drink. ‘Don’t say I didn’t warn you.’

  ‘NO!’

  ‘Oh dear, clumsy me.’ I poured the liquid onto the wooden floor.

  ‘How could you?’ she cried.

  ‘How could I? Really? How could you, Mother? I’ve put up with your bitchy and sarcastic comments for far too long now and I’m not putting up with them anymore.’ I stood up and straightened my back, realising too late that I’d done a typical pregnant-woman-standing-up action.

  Her eyes widened. ‘I was right. You are knocked up.’

  ‘Yes, Mother, I’m pregnant.’

  ‘I won’t babysit for it, you know.’

  ‘I wouldn’t want you to or trust you to. In fact, I don’t even want you to see my baby. I know that won’t bother you, though, seeing as you haven’t bothered to see Jess since she had Emily and Oliver nearly seven weeks ago.’

  ‘I’ve been busy.’

  ‘Shopping for nighties and drinking yourself into a stupor? Yes, I can see you have. Goodbye, Mother.’

  I reached for Stevie’s hand, but he stopped and picked up his pint.

  ‘Leave it,’ I hissed.

  ‘I don’t want it,’ he said. ‘I’m just making sure she can’t have it.’

  Mother grabbed my drink and gulped at it then pulled a face when she realised it was water and not a gin and tonic as she must have hoped.

  ‘I hope you’re not expecting me to come to your wedding,’ she shouted as we paused at the bar for Stevie to hand over his drink. ‘Because I’m not sure you’re worth the price of a new nightie.’

  ‘And you’re not worth the price of a meal,’ I shouted back, ‘so don’t wait for an in
vite.’ I grabbed Stevie’s hand and dashed for the door.

  ‘Do you want to talk about it?’ Stevie asked when we’d got into Bertie.

  ‘Can we go to your house first?’

  ‘Of course.’

  We drove to Bramble Cottage in silence. I re-played the conversation over and over again in my head. I hadn’t handled it well, but she’d started it. My anger had started at Jess’ wedding and had been steadily simmering since the twins had been born and she’d made no attempt to visit them. I found out on Christmas Day that she hadn’t sent cards or gifts for their births or Christmas either. Jess broke down in tears when she told me that. Dad had just stared at her helplessly, a haunted look in his eyes. I suspect he’d been replaying the wedding conversation, knowing exactly why she hadn’t bothered with the twins, yet unable to voice the reason.

  ‘You put your feet up and I’ll make you a hot drink,’ Stevie said when we arrived back at Bramble Cottage.

  ‘Thanks. I feel quite drained now.’

  I must have dozed off. I opened my eyes to find a throw over me and the room in darkness, except for a warm glow from the wood-burner and several candles. I stretched as my eyes adjusted to the light.

  ‘Hi sleepy-head,’ Stevie said, leaning forward in the armchair near the window. ‘I brought you a tea, but you were spark-out.’

  ‘Sorry about that. I only planned to close my eyes for a moment, but it was clearly longer than that. What time is it?’

  ‘About half four.’

  ‘I’ve been asleep for three hours? What must you think of me? This is becoming a habit.’

  Stevie smiled. ‘You and baby obviously needed it. How are you feeling?’

  ‘Embarrassed about earlier.’

  ‘With your mum?’ Stevie put his Kindle down and joined me on the sofa. ‘Please don’t be. I thought you were very restrained in pouring her drink on the floor rather than her head.’

  I cringed. ‘You have no idea how much I wanted to pour it over her, swiftly followed by your pint. I’m sorry that she was rude to you.’

  ‘Don’t be. She’s obviously a bitter woman.’

  ‘Very bitter. And I’m sorry she kept going on about us getting married. I lost the energy to keep correcting her.’

  Stevie smiled and my heart melted at the sight of those gorgeous dimples of his. ‘Please don’t worry about it. Although if you start going out wearing a nightie, I might have to re-think our friendship.’

  I giggled. ‘If I start going out in my nightie, you have my permission to ship me off to Dignitas and put me out of my misery.’

  ‘It’s when I start going out in your nightie that we really need to worry.’ He stood up. ‘Let me go and get you a fresh brew.’

  I stretched then gazed around the room. I could happily stay there and never leave. There was something about Bramble Cottage and its owner that felt so right. Was I brave enough to tell him that?

  Chapter 41

  ‘Happy New Year!’ Stevie took my overnight bag, closed the door, then gave me a hug. ‘Come through to the kitchen,’ he said. ‘I’ve made some fruit punch. Non-alcoholic, of course.’

  Stevie handed me a drink. ‘On tonight’s menu, we’ve got warm wild mushroom salad with feta, but I Googled it and apparently feta’s okay in pregnancy if it’s made with pasteurised milk which this one is. But I’ll understand if you would rather not have the feta.’

  I smiled. ‘Sounds like you’ve gone to a lot of trouble. Pasteurised feta is fine, thank you.’

  ‘For mains, I’ve made an aubergine and chickpea curry, and for dessert we’ve got raspberry and rhubarb crumble. I apologise that none of the courses go together. I got a bit carried away with the recipe book and only thought about the clash of tastes after I’d bought everything.’

  ‘Stevie, that all sounds absolutely delicious and I like variety in a meal so don’t worry about it. Thank you for cooking. We could have just got a takeaway.’

  ‘I enjoy cooking,’ he said, ‘and it’s better for you and baby.’

  I smiled and automatically stroked my small bump. ‘We appreciate it.’

  Stevie cooked the mushrooms while I laid the table, then we ate our starter and main courses.

  ‘Given that it’s the last day of the year, it’s tradition to look ahead,’ he said over our curry. ‘So, what are your hopes for next year?’

  ‘To find somewhere nice to live, to have a healthy little girl—’

  Stevie dropped his fork. ‘You’re having a girl?’

  I grinned. ‘I had my scan on Christmas Eve and decided to find out.’

  He sat back in his seat and smiled. ‘A baby girl. Congratulations. Are you pleased?’

  ‘I am actually. I’d had a couple of dreams about it being a girl so it was quite surreal getting it confirmed.’

  ‘I’m delighted for you,’ Stevie said. ‘So, other than a place to live and a healthy daughter, do you have any other hopes?’

  ‘Not to be alone.’ What I really wanted to say was, ‘To have you love me as much as I love you,’ but I was nowhere near brave enough. That was the sort of thing I needed alcohol to say. But if I could have alcohol, it would mean I wasn’t pregnant, which could mean Stevie and I would have got together long before when he was keen on me as something more than just a friend. ‘What about you?’ I asked.

  ‘Not to be alone would be up there for me too. I was wondering—’ A firework banged outside. He blinked and glanced towards the garden. You were wondering what, Stevie?

  He looked back at me and cleared his throat. ‘Other than that, I want to finish decorating my third bedroom, grow my own veg, and work more collaboratively with Nick. He’s put some work my way and I’ve put some his way. I reckon we could do really well if we properly joined forces.’

  ‘Sounds good. Nick’s a great guy. I bet he’s really easy-going to work with.’ But I’d rather have known what he’d been wondering.

  ‘He is.’ Stevie stretched. ‘Can you face dessert yet or shall we move into the lounge and have it a bit later?’

  I pondered for a moment. ‘Later I think. I could squeeze some in, but I think it may push me over the edge so I’ll let the rest settle. It was delicious, Stevie. You’re an amazing cook.’

  ‘Thank you. It was my pleasure.’

  We moved into the lounge and Stevie put on some soft music. ‘Maddy and I would have had a girl.’ He sat beside me on the sofa. ‘We called her Rebecca.’

  I lightly touched his arm. ‘I’m so sorry, Stevie. Do you want to talk about it now?’

  He fixed his eyes on mine. ‘I would, actually. If that’s okay with you?’

  We talked about everything: his parents, his Uncle George, my relationship with my mother, what went wrong between him and Maddy, what went wrong between Gary and me, and whether he’d seen much of Rob recently.

  ‘Did you know they’ve moved into an apartment on West Cliff?’

  I nodded. ‘Gary phoned to tell me. He didn’t want me to hear it from someone else.’

  ‘I’ve never seen Rob look so happy. They make a great couple.’ He put his hand over his mouth. ‘Sorry, Elise, was that insensitive? Does it bother you?’

  I shook my head and smiled. ‘Not anymore. Gary seems like… another lifetime ago. My life has changed beyond recognition this year. Some of it’s been bad. Some of it’s been good. Although I was devastated when things ended with Gary — particularly how I found out — I can look back now and know it was for the best. Not because I have baby bean — although she’s an added bonus — but because Gary and I weren’t working. It was like treading on eggshells trying not to upset him. He needed out for obvious reasons, but I think I did too. I just couldn’t see it at the time.’

  ‘Do you ever see him?’

  ‘We saw a lot of each other while we were packing up the house, but I’ve barely seen him since i
t sold. We’ve exchanged the odd text and we chatted on the phone for about an hour when he told me he was moving in with Rob, but that’s it. I miss him, though. We’ve been friends since we were fourteen so it’s strange not having him in my life. Maybe that’s another hope for next year.’

  Stevie smiled. ‘I’ve got another hope for next year. I want to run a half marathon. I might as well put all the running to good use. Sarah didn’t have time to come as regularly in the run-up to the wedding so I started doing longer distances.’

  ‘That’s brilliant,’ I said. ‘You’ve really taken to running, then?’

  ‘I never dreamed I’d like anything remotely athletic, but I’d actually call it my main hobby. I couldn’t imagine not running now.’ He got up and put another log on the burner. ‘How have you got on with finding a new interest?’

  ‘I don’t have to. I’ve been able to breathe fresh life into an old one.’ Stevie listened intently while I told him about Gary’s discovery in the attic. ‘It needs a bit of work, but I think there are the makings of a YA series in there.’

  ‘YA?’

  ‘Young Adult. It’s quite funny that I was the target audience age when I wrote it, and now I teach the target audience.’

  ‘Will you try to get it published?’

  I nodded. ‘I think so, but I don’t think it will be polished enough by the time baby bean arrives, so this could be a long-term project.’

  Some loud bangs outside made Meg whimper. Stevie stroked her ears. ‘She’s not really scared of fireworks,’ he said. ‘She’s just a drama queen and sees it as a chance for attention.’

  A ping from a clock on the wall made us both look up. ‘Midnight,’ Stevie said. ‘Happy New Year, Elise.’

  ‘Happy New Year, Stevie.’

  ‘I’d suggest we go out and watch the fireworks, but it’s started chucking it down.’

  ‘I’m happy to stay in here,’ I said.

  ‘There’s no need to miss out. I’ve got something for inside instead.’ He reached over the side of the sofa and lifted up a box of Christmas crackers. ‘Would you do me the honour…?’

  ‘Ooh, crackers! I never win the prize, though. I’m always a little scared to pull hard.’