“You are going to have a little baby sister or brother.”
A tiny line appeared between Laura’s brows. “A baby?”
“Yes. In about five months, give or take a week or two.”
Dawn suppressed a nervous giggle. Rick was always so careful with numbers, even with this news. And perhaps he was right to be. After all, Laura had arrived a week later than her due date and James had arrived two weeks before his. So expected dates of delivery were not necessarily precise, and with the children, they needed to ensure that they weren’t expecting the baby to arrive right on time. Laura had a thing about times anyway, especially since Rick’s working hours had increased again, and she would no doubt mark the baby’s EDD on the rabbit calendar that hung on her bedroom wall and tick off the days as they passed.
“I want a brother.” James nodded as he accepted a bowl of dessert from his nanna.
“You can’t decide what you’re having, James.” Laura scowled at him. “It just happens.”
“But I don’t want a sister.” His bottom lip wobbled. “I have you.”
Laura patted her brother’s hand. “I will always be your sister but you might have another one. Isn’t that right, Daddy?”
“That’s right, sweetheart. So are we pleased?”
Laura nodded and James shrugged, so that would have to do for now. It was a lot for them to take in, but they’d have time now to get used to the idea. Dawn hadn’t wanted to tell them until the pregnancy was well established, because it would have been dreadful if they’d known, then she’d lost the baby. Of course, nothing was 100 per cent certain and things could still go wrong, but she was well past the three-month danger point, and had quite a bump already, so they had to tell them sooner or later. It was getting too hard to hide her belly all the time anyway.
“Here you are, Dawn.”
Her mother handed her a bowl and she took it then gazed at its contents. Growing up, Queen of Puddings had always been one of her favourites with its layers of light fluffy sponge, custard and jam, topped with soft, chewy meringue. But right now, she didn’t fancy it at all.
All she did fancy was cuddling up with her husband and having him stroke her hair as he told her how much he loved her and the children and how he’d never leave them. But he was currently tucking into his dessert, seemingly oblivious to her vulnerability, and blissfully unaware that she’d seen him on his phone outside, lost in conversation with someone who brought a colour to his cheeks that Dawn didn’t think she’d seen in quite some time.
Chapter 5
Dawn set up the ironing board in the quiet house. Rick had left at six-thirty, as he always did on Monday mornings, and the children were in school. She usually liked this time of day, when she could put the radio on in the sunny kitchen, make a cup of tea and read a magazine or a book, get some chores done or just sit and think.
She’d been out to check on Wallace the second and Lulu, and had found them quietly nibbling on hay, so she’d given them some carrots, changed the water in the bottle that clipped to the front of the hutch, then gone back inside to switch the kettle on. The new Wallace sure was hefty for a guinea pig. She wondered for a moment what had happened to the other little Wallace. She had asked Rick the previous afternoon, and he’d managed to tell her that he’d found Wallace and brought him home, but then they’d been interrupted by Laura and it had slipped her mind. She was suddenly overwhelmed with guilt and concern, and the only way she could ease it was to blame her pregnancy brain and reassure herself that Rick would have put Wallace somewhere safe. Somewhere the cats from the café couldn’t find him, hopefully.
The thermostat on the iron clicked, so she picked a shirt from the ironing pile and slid it over the end of the board. She worked on autopilot: collar, sleeves, side, back, side. She’d done this so many times before that it was automatic, and before she knew it, she’d done four shirts and her tea was getting cold. She poured it down the sink then rinsed the mug.
Something was prickling at her subconscious and she’d been trying to keep it there, out of sight, not wanting to let it surface. But as she gazed at through the kitchen window at the generous garden – where even though it was still warm, the autumnal shades of red, orange and brown dominated – the question shot to the surface like a bubble and popped.
Was her mother right? Was Rick having an affair?
Her hand shot to her mouth. She knew that husbands and wives did cheat; she had her father’s behaviour as a prime example. Plus the media loved to parade gritty stories of celebrity marital problems and affairs at the public all the time. She knew people whose marriages had failed because of it and those who’d stayed together, trying to work things out after one of them had cheated, and often they tried to make it work because of their children. But she had never really believed that it could happen in her own marriage. Not between her and Rick; they loved each other, didn’t they? They had always sworn that they’d never disrespect each other in that way. But had Rick forgotten that as the years passed? Had someone in his busy, flashy, high-flying City job caught his eye and turned his head while his wife sat at home caring for their two children, getting fatter with her third pregnancy? Was Rick fed up with her or did he want to have some fun then come back to her? Could she allow that?
No she bloody well couldn’t.
She took a deep breath. Her thoughts were racing away here and she might be imagining it all. This was Rick she was thinking about. He wouldn’t cheat, surely? Not Rick.
She decided to leave the ironing for a bit and to check her Facebook page – that usually made her feel a bit better when worries rushed in. She could see if there was any news from her friends who’d moved away and from the friends she’d made at university. She retrieved the lightweight laptop that she shared with Rick from the study, then took it back to the kitchen, placed it on the kitchen island and switched it on.
It flickered into life and she was about to click on the Internet symbol when a folder caught her eye.
Rick’s Stuff.
And her mother’s final whispered words from yesterday – the ones she’d uttered into Dawn’s ear, just before they left – came rushing back:
“You should check his emails, Dawnie. Just to be sure. It’s not right that he’s working so late, especially with you being pregnant. I read just last week in one of my magazines that a woman found out her husband was cheating with his secretary – oh the cliché – just from reading his emails. He’d forgotten to close down the account after using the family computer. Check them, then you’ll know if there’s something going on.”
She hovered the mouse over his folder, wondering if she could really do this. It was wrong and she knew that to the bottom of her heart but she also needed to put her mind at rest. And Rick was at work, probably wouldn’t be home until late. If she did this, she could find the much-needed reassurance that she really was being silly.
She opened the folder and found several other blue folders, then clicked on the one labelled Passwords.
Bit daft having your passwords stored on here, Rick.
But then he had so many and was constantly having to change them as he’d forgotten them, so it seemed he’d decided to keep them all in one place. There were probably lots of people who did the same thing, in spite of the warnings about cyber security and hackers.
The folder opened and she found a six-page Word document with the names of accounts and the passwords next to them. She scanned down the pages, her heart beating hard and a sour taste filling her mouth. Because she knew this was wrong. Rick obviously didn’t have anything to hide but then he wouldn’t expect her to go snooping. He’d actually told her at one point that he’d made a list of all his accounts, just in case anything ever happened to him and she needed to access them. It would make things easier, he’d said. She’d tried to laugh it off, not wanting to think about the possibility of being without Rick, but he’d been true to his word and ensured that she’d know where everything was if she needed it.
Her eyes stopped on the heading Rick’s email account.
She shouldn’t really, but she could just take a peek then be done with all this worrying.
Before she could overthink it, she clicked on the Internet link and signed into the account with the password.
The first few emails were from the bank and PayPal. The next was from an online sports company that was headed FLASH SALE: 50% off selected lines today only. The next one looked more interesting. More worrying. It was from a Brianna Mandrell and the subject heading was FYEO.
FYEO?
Dawn’s heart raced as she realised what that meant.
For your eyes only.
What the hell?
Her finger shook above the touchpad.
Her mind was screaming at her to stop; it was better not to know.
But…
She had to know.
She opened it.
And immediately wished she hadn’t.
***
Dawn hurried up the path to The Cosy Cottage Café. She opened the door with such force that she nearly faceplanted onto the welcome mat. She steadied herself then glanced around. Five customers: two women, two male delivery drivers and Fred Bennett, an elderly man from the village who always came to the café on a Monday morning.
She couldn’t see Allie, so she must be in the kitchen.
She went to the counter and stood there waiting, suddenly aware that she must look quite a state. After dropping the children at school, she’d changed into a pair of Rick’s old lounge pants and a washed out black t-shirt. Comfortable clothes for wearing while ironing. After seeing that terrible email, she hadn’t bothered to change. Her hair was in a messy ponytail and in her hurry to get to the café, the fringe she’d been growing out had slipped from its clip and now stuck to her clammy forehead. And as for makeup… she hadn’t bothered with that. Who was going to see her at home? What did it matter anyway?
Allie didn’t appear, so Dawn went behind the counter and into the kitchen. She found her friend scooping poached eggs from a pan then carefully arranging them on top of thick slices of toast covered with mashed avocado.
“Dawn! You gave me a fright then.” Allie paused, an egg suspended on the spatula in mid air, its golden yolk shiny and perfectly round, just waiting to be pierced by a fork. Dawn’s stomach rolled.
“Sorry. I had to come to see you. I can’t go to Mum’s as she’ll be doing her cleaning rounds and Camilla’s in work and I didn’t know who else to go to and…”
Allie’s expression changed as she took in Dawn’s appearance.
“Hold on.” She laid the egg on a slice toast then put the saucepan on the worktop. “Now, do you want to take a deep breath then tell me what’s going on? I love you, Dawnie, and you can always come to me when you need to but to be quite frank, you look like you’ve been dragged through a hedge backwards.”
Dawn took a breath and was dismayed to find her vision blurring. Her throat ached as a lump rose there and she tried to speak but it emerged as a squeak.
“Okay, you stay here. I have to take these breakfasts out but I’ll be right back.” Allie dusted her hands on her apron then pushed Dawn onto a stool that she’d pulled from under the kitchen island, before disappearing with two plates.
Dawn took the time to try to pull herself together. Allie was always so kind and caring that whenever Dawn was feeling emotional, her composure usually slipped. She’d always worn her heart on her sleeve and her mother had often remarked that she was very different to Camilla in that respect. After their father had left, Camilla had seemed to toughen up, taking care of Dawn and their mother like they were her responsibility, even though she’d only been ten. Jackie had fallen into a deep depression and ten-year-old Camilla had taken over the running of the house while Jackie was out at work, ensuring that she and Dawn had clean uniforms and got to school on time. Camilla had made excuses to her teachers when her mother hadn’t shown up for parents’ evenings and had used her saved pocket money to purchase tins of beans and loaves of bread from the local shop to feed them. Jackie had emerged from the worst of her darkness after about eight months, but it had been an awful time.
Camilla had been a rock. But it was as if the whole experience had left her scarred and scared. She’d never had a long-term relationship and very rarely ever let her guard down, not even to Dawn. Her decision to never have children had been one that had initially shocked Dawn, as she’d longed to be a mother after falling in love with Rick. However, as time went on and Camilla didn’t falter in her decision, not even when she held her niece and nephew as tiny babies, Dawn realised that it was okay for her sister to lack maternal yearnings. As long Camilla was happy with her life, then Dawn didn’t need to worry about her. Sometimes, she even envied Camilla her freedom, her lack of responsibility, the fact that she could go into London and splurge on clothes and shoes then stay in a luxury hotel without worrying about the price or getting back for the school run. She wondered what it would be like to have a full night’s sleep and to spend an hour lounging in a bubble bath without someone needing the toilet, or a drink, or having a fight over the TV remote.
But their lives were very different and their parents’ divorce had affected them in different ways. Camilla swore she never wanted the whole marriage and children scenario while Dawn couldn’t imagine not having that life that she treasured. If anything, seeing her mother’s breakdown made Dawn crave domesticity. Her childhood had seemed perfect until her father left and in the weeks that followed his departure, she’d longed to come home from school to find her mother baking again, ready with a kiss and a smile at the door. But that idyllic stage of her life had passed and it never returned. Until Dawn married Rick and had her own home, and became determined to have the perfect family life, to be the wife and mother that Jackie had been before her husband had left. It was like she had a chance to recreate the early part of her childhood – the part that she’d enjoyed.
And now it seemed that it was falling apart, in spite of all her efforts.
“Right, Mrs,” Allie was back with a steaming mug and a ginger biscuit, “I want you to take these then come and sit on my leather couch and tell me all about it.”
“Thank you, Allie.”
“No need to thank me, sweetheart. I’m your friend and that’s what friends do. You need to tell me what’s weighing you down and got you running around the village looking like you spent the night sleeping rough.”
Dawn tugged at the t-shirt, trying to stop it clinging to her belly.
“Okay… but I have a feeling that you’re not going to approve of what I’ve done.”
Allie placed a hand on Dawn’s back then gently ushered her from the kitchen.
“I am quite sure that you can’t possibly have done anything terrible, Dawn.”
Dawn swallowed a sob.
Because she was quite sure that as soon as she told Allie what she had done, her friend was going to change her mind.
***
Just as Dawn was about to tell Allie about the email, Camilla breezed into the café. As usual, she looked gorgeous with her dark elfin crop, her dazzling green eyes enhanced with shimmering emerald makeup and her designer charcoal-grey trouser suit and purple silk blouse. Her towering heels clicked across the floor as she made her way to the counter, then she caught sight of Allie and Dawn and did an about turn to join them at the sofa.
“Camilla, what’re you doing here?” Dawn blurted.
“Well that’s a nice welcome.”
“I didn’t mean it like that. What I meant was, why aren’t you in London?”
“Oh, I had a meeting with a local client then I thought I’d pop in for a coffee. Didn’t expect to see you here either little sister.” Camilla peered at her. “Have you been crying?”
Dawn shifted on the sofa.
“She’s a bit hormonal.” Allie patted Dawn’s hand.
“Yes it all gets a bit much sometimes.”
“Shall I pop you to the
surgery? See if we can get your GP to take a look at you? Perhaps you need some iron tablets or something else…” Camilla’s eyes were wary now, full of sisterly concern.
“No, no. I’m all right. No need for that.”
“Would you like a coffee, Camilla?” Allie asked.
“Yes, please, Allie, that would be lovely. Then I think we three need to have a chat.”
While Allie made the coffee, Camilla excused herself and popped to the toilet. Dawn took the chance to catch her breath. Part of her didn’t want to tell her friend or her sister about Rick, because she didn’t want to prejudice their feelings towards him, but part of her wanted, and needed, their support. How dare he do what it seemed like he’d been doing? If he had been doing anything at all. If only she could know for sure.
Soon, Camilla sat opposite her and Allie next to her.
“Um… please don’t judge me, but I’ve done something and it’s opened a can of worms.”
They both stared at her, their expressions unreadable as they waited for her to continue.
“I’ve had some suspicions about Rick for a while now and this morning, I just had to find out if they were true.”
“What suspicions?” Camilla asked as she shrugged out of her jacket then draped it over the back of the chair.
“That he might be cheating.” She pressed her lips together as Camilla’s eyes widened.
“What?”
“Oh Dawn, but why?” Allie took her hand.
“He’s been acting differently. Since before this pregnancy actually, although it has got worse. Or perhaps it’s just me being paranoid and—”
“Dawn! Stop blaming yourself and tell us what’s going on.” Camilla frowned.
Okay…” She sighed. “He works long hours, repeatedly claims his trains have been delayed and has more events in the City than ever.”
“But he works in investment banking. The demands are the same as they’ve always been but he’s now competing with younger and probably more ambitious colleagues. It’s a cut-throat career. You knew this when you married him and you said you could deal with it.”
Autumn at The Cosy Cottage Cafe: A heart-warming feel-good read about life, love, marriage and friendship Page 4
