‘Oh my God. You’re pregnant!’
‘How’d you know?’ Meg dropped the bag of flour and it spilled all over the countertop as she laughed.
Tab squealed as she rushed over and threw her arms around sister-in-law. ‘This is the best news ever.’
‘I know.’ Meg was half-jumping, half-laughing, half-crying, and Tab joined in. At least now she’d have an excuse for looking like she was crying.
‘When are you due?’
Meg pulled back and bit her lip. ‘End of July, but oh my God, Lawson is going to kill me. He wanted us to tell you together. We haven’t even told Ned yet.’
Tab forced a laugh. ‘I promise I’ll act surprised.’
‘It’s still early days,’ Meg said, her tone slightly anxious now. ‘I literally just got the positive result this morning. I’m barely even a month. I probably shouldn’t be getting so excited just yet.’
‘Don’t be silly. Everything’s going to be okay. I have a good feeling in my waters—this baby is meant to be.’
‘Thanks, Tab.’ Meg sniffed. ‘Sometimes I have to pinch myself when I think about how good my life has got since coming to Rose Hill. After my family died, I honestly never thought I’d ever find any kind of happiness again. I thought I was locking myself here away from the world, but Lawson didn’t let me do that. I still don’t feel like I deserve his love, or yours and Ned’s, but I’m so damn glad I’ve got it.’
‘You do deserve it. Don’t let me ever hear you say otherwise,’ Tab said firmly. ‘It wasn’t only that Lawson rescued you, remember? You brought him back to life as well, you gave Ned a mother again and I got not only a sister but a best friend. We’re the lucky ones.’
‘Okay, okay, enough of this before we both turn into a sobbing mess, are useless to cook and don’t have anything to serve for lunch tomorrow.’
‘Hey, we’ve always got plenty of ice-cream.’ Tab shrugged and tried to keep her voice light. She was seriously happy for Meg and Lawson but the part of her that secretly longed for a strong family unit herself felt positively green as well. Why couldn’t she have love and a baby? Was that too much to ask?
Meg smiled as she started to clean up the flour mess. ‘As good as your ice-cream is, not everyone wants it as their main meal. And don’t think you’ve got off scot-free. I haven’t forgotten about your night with hot stuff. While we cook I want to hear all the sordid details. Is this the first time you’ve stayed over?’
Tab hesitated, unsure how to answer this question. She didn’t really want to rehash the last twenty-four hours, but she couldn’t lie to Meg either. ‘Actually things aren’t …’
Oh Lord, even before she realised what was happening, tears were streaming down her cheeks and her throat was filling with snot.
‘Oh my goodness, Tabby.’ Meg abandoned the flour once more and rushed to her side. ‘What happened?’
‘It’s … we’re … we had a …’ She couldn’t manage to get the words out.
‘It’s alright,’ Meg said, ushering her out of the kitchen and leading her to a chair in the tea rooms. ‘Sit down and breathe.’ Then she rushed to grab some serviettes in lieu of tissues. As she handed them to Tab, she muttered, ‘What the hell has he done to you? Have you guys broken up?’
Tab scoffed—you couldn’t break up when you weren’t even together in the first place. Still, she was pretty sure there wouldn’t be any more late night accordion lessons or anything else between them, but she couldn’t say any of this through the hysterical crying.
‘If he’s hurt you, I swear I’ll kill him.’
The ferocity in Meg’s words only had Tabitha sobbing harder. She couldn’t believe this was the second time in a matter of months someone had witnessed her crying over a man and she didn’t like it. It made her feel vulnerable, like a failure.
‘It’s not his fault,’ she said after a number of nose blows. ‘He never led me to believe we could have anything long-term. I’ve been such an idiot.’
Somehow, she managed to tell Meg the whole story, from Jools’ visit, to Eider’s cancer, Fergus’s bitter anger and Tab’s attempt to soften him. She couldn’t bring herself to mention what he’d said about the baby, because that made her feel conflicted in a way she didn’t want to feel. She wanted to be angry at his blatant rejection of her child, his inability to even consider helping her raise it, but she was angrier at herself. She couldn’t help wondering if things might have been different if she wasn’t pregnant.
And that made her angry at him. How dare he make her question her decision! How dare he make her think anything but wonderful, glowing, excited thoughts about her baby.
‘You did the right thing,’ Meg said, rubbing her back as though she were a little child. ‘I understand why he’s upset but holding onto that kind of anger, living in the past like that, is toxic. And if Fergus can’t see you’re only trying to help, then that’s his problem.’
‘Then why do I feel so bad?’
Meg cocked her head to one side and gave Tab a stern look. ‘Because you fell in love with him, didn’t you?’
Tab nodded and hung her head. There was no point denying it. Meg wasn’t the type to say ‘I told you so’ but it was written all over her face. ‘What’s even worse, though, is that I told him how I felt.’
She still couldn’t believe she’d done that, but Fergus had a habit of making her do and say things she probably wouldn’t if she had time to think them through. In this case, the words had been as much a surprise to her as they were to him. She hadn’t realised they were the truth until they’d tumbled from her lips. Probably because now she’d felt it, she realised she’d never actually felt it before.
But the knowledge that you weren’t going to have sex with someone again didn’t make not only your heart contract, but every bone, muscle and nerve-ending in your body ache. Only love could wreck you so physically and emotionally at once. They say you can’t choose who you fall in love with, but you can choose to be smart about it, you can choose to protect yourself, and Tab had done no such thing. She had no one to blame but herself.
‘You should have seen the look of horror on his face. He couldn’t leave the house fast enough!’
‘Oh, Tabby.’ Meg held her close again. ‘There’s no shame in telling someone you love them. And it’s his loss; he’s the idiot if he can’t see how wonderful you are. There’s no way he’ll ever find anyone better.’
‘Thank you.’ Tab squeezed Meg’s hand but there was nothing anyone could say that would make her feel better right now. Usually baking helped lift her spirits—today, she didn’t even think that would work. But prepping the food for the next few days needed to be done, and surely keeping busy would be better than sitting around dwelling on things.
Wiping her nose one last time, Tab said, ‘Do you want me to start on the sausage rolls?’
‘That would be great,’ Meg replied, standing and starting back towards the kitchen.
When Tab joined her a few moments later, she said, ‘Look, I know you don’t want to talk about Fergus anymore and I respect that. Know I’m here if you change your mind, but just one last thing before we get stuck into baking.’
‘Yes?’ Tab’s heart quaked.
‘Would you like Lawson to go to cricket for you this arvo?’
Shit. Despite the fact they were about to start their weekly cook-up, Tab had completely forgotten today was Thursday, which also meant junior cricket training. As much as she didn’t want to let Ned and his little teammates down, the thought of seeing Fergus again so soon left her cold. How would they face each other in front of an audience? He’d probably be over-the-top polite, treating her like a stranger and pretending nothing had happened between them, and that would be unbearable. Or maybe he’d try to talk to her, apologise for hurting her and … She shook her head. No. That would be even worse—she’d probably burst into tears again in front of everyone.
‘But then we’ll have to tell Lawson what’s happened.’ The thought of her brother
knowing how stupid she’d been had her stomach churning.
‘Tab, he’s going to know something’s up soon anyway—he’s not stupid and he cares about you. He’s also less likely to fly off the handle at Fergus, whereas if I see the jerk now, I might end up in jail again.’
This almost brought a smile to Tab’s lips. ‘Do you think he’d mind? I’m happy to do the milking instead.’ Being with Ethan and the girls would be a zillion times more preferable to hanging on the oval with the man she’d naively fallen in love with.
‘Of course he won’t, but you don’t need to worry about the milking—Ethan and I can handle it. You just take care of yourself and your baby.’ She offered a sympathetic smile and placed a hand on Tab’s stomach. ‘I’m so glad our kids are going to be close in age. Are you going to find out the sex? I’m kinda hoping for a girl, so we have a pigeon pair. You?’
Tab welcomed the change of topic. ‘I honestly don’t mind, although if you guys have a girl, it would be cool if my baby was a girl too because then they could be cousins and best friends.’
‘That would be perfect,’ Meg said, and Tab smiled, because although her heart still ached, she had a lot to look forward to. Two months ago she didn’t even know Fergus’s name and she’d been excited about her future. Perhaps if she worked very hard at it, in another two months she’d have forgotten she ever did.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Just as Fergus was turning off his computer, it pinged, alerting him to a new email. Not in a hurry to get to the oval for cricket training after what had already been a long and trying day, he opened it.
Dear Mr McWilliams
We are writing to inform you that your application for teacher at …
He let out a sigh of relief as he read the letter from the Department of Education telling him he had a one year position at one of the Aboriginal community schools way up north, starting term one next year. If only he could start earlier, but as much he didn’t want to linger in Walsh now that he and Tabitha were through—for her benefit as much as his—he didn’t want to desert the kids in his class either. They’d already had enough disturbance this year with Carline having to leave in a hurry, and they deserved better than that.
They deserved better than the kind of teacher he’d been today. Usually he managed to keep his personal and professional lives separate; even when he’d found out about Jools and Eider, he’d kept it together at school. But today everyone, even usually goodie-two-shoes Lisl, had been playing up and pushing his buttons. It felt like kids had a radar for when you weren’t feeling great and he’d yelled and snapped at them more than once.
On reflection though, it hadn’t been their fault. He couldn’t focus on maths or spelling or anything he was supposed to be teaching because all he could think about was the look on Tabitha’s face this morning when he’d walked out. How had things gone from blissful to dire so quickly? One minute they were laughing and sleeping together, and the next they were arguing like an old married couple. Her hurt and disappointment could have so easily been prevented if he’d just stuck to his guns and not let anything happen between them.
He’d kicked himself metaphorically a hundred times through the day and also found himself wishing and hoping that things could be different.
If only Jools hadn’t come down and interfered. If she hadn’t asked Tabitha to try to talk to him, they’d never have got into a fight.
If only he hadn’t had a few too many drinks last night and asked her to stay.
If only she wasn’t pregnant. He admired her independence and the way she’d taken her dreams of a baby into her own hands—it was all part of her incredible package—but he couldn’t help wishing she’d waited just that little bit longer, because then … maybe …
No. He shook his head as he switched off his computer and stood. There was no point thinking ‘if onlys’ and ‘maybes’. She was pregnant and no matter how she felt about him or he her, that was a deal-breaker. The only thing for him now was to try to get through the next few weeks in Walsh without hurting her any further.
His heart hammered as he drove to the oval. Should he apologise or try to act normal? They’d have to be careful, not only because of the kids, but also due to the eager ears of the parents. He didn’t care what they thought about him—he’d be gone soon—but Tab had to live here and he didn’t want them gossiping about her.
As he drove into the sportsground it quickly became obvious that Tabitha had decided to avoid him. Usually her ice-cream van stood out among the four-wheel drives and utes like a lamb in a pack of wolves, so today its absence was obvious.
Maybe she was simply running late?
This possibility was quickly eliminated when he climbed out of his car and saw Ned kicking the ball back and forth with his dad on the dry grass. Ferg wasn’t sure whether he was relieved about not having to face Tabitha, but part of him was surprised at her no show. In the short time they’d known each other she’d never been one to shy away from anything, least of all confrontation, and her absence today spoke volumes about how badly he’d hurt her.
He’d never felt more like a jerk in his life.
‘Oh look, here comes McGrumpy,’ he heard Levi Walsh say. As the other kids giggled, Levi’s mum scolded him but Fergus ignored him—after all, the kid was only speaking the truth.
Instead, he crossed over to Lawson and Ned. The boy’s eyes lit up when he saw him, a testament to how great a kid he was that he wasn’t holding one bad day against him.
‘Hey, Mr McDuck.’
‘Hey, Ned.’ Ferg smiled at him and then offered his hand to his father. ‘Hi Lawson.’
The other man didn’t accept the handshake. ‘Afternoon.’ His cool tone and expression confirmed Fergus’s suspicions that him being here instead of Tabitha wasn’t some weird coincidence. No words were necessary to understand that Lawson knew what had happened with Ferg and his sister and that he wasn’t happy about it either. Lawson seemed like a decent bloke, but Ferg got the impression if they didn’t have an audience, he might have a few choice words to say or even a couple of physical blows to land.
He would have deserved either and he didn’t blame Tabitha’s brother for being angry at him. Right now he might even welcome a bit of physical pain to deflect from his internal anguish. Ferg knew the over-protective big brother role all too well as he’d played it himself on more than one occasion. The only times he’d ever got into physical fights growing up had been when other kids had done wrong by Eider. Where she was concerned, impulse had always overridden common sense. It was why her betrayal hurt just as much, if not more than Jools’.
But right now, it was the fight with Tab—the pain on her face and the reminder of it as he looked at Lawson’s—that was forefront in his mind. He fought the impulse to try to explain himself, but now wasn’t the time or place and even if it was, Lawson probably wouldn’t understand or care. His primary concern was Tabitha and this thought consoled Fergus slightly—at least she had a supportive family; they’d help her get over him.
With a quick nod towards Lawson, Ferg called the kids into a group. They groaned as usual as he sent them off on a lap around the oval and then he and Lawson set up the drills, barely saying a word to each other. Without Tabitha here, cricket training dragged and wasn’t nearly as fun. Ferg made a big effort to keep his own issues off the pitch but was overjoyed when the hour was up.
Without their usual post-cricket ice-cream, the kids were all eager to get home to dinner. As they shot off towards their parents, Lawson started to walk away, one hand on Ned’s shoulder, leaving most of the final packing up to Fergus. He didn’t care, there really wasn’t much to collect, but just when he thought he’d avoided a confrontation, Tabitha’s brother halted. Ferg saw him utter a few words to his son. Ned nodded and then Lawson turned and strode towards him.
Ferg braced himself for impact, but it was only words of warning Lawson hit him with.
‘I don’t know what you think you were playing at, get
ting involved with my sister in her current condition, but if you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay the hell away from her. Are we clear?’
Ferg nodded. ‘I’m sorry. I—’
But even if he did have a good excuse, Lawson didn’t hang around to hear it.
‘Come on, Ned,’ he shouted as he strode away from Fergus. The boy looked back and the confusion in his little face broke Ferg’s heart all over again. The kid had the same big, bold, brown eyes as Tabitha and he knew that over the last few weeks of term, every time he looked at Ned he’d think of her and wish things could have been different.
With this thought, he heaved the heavy cricket bag over to his car, threw it in the boot and drove out of the sports ground. He was two kilometres out of town before he realised he wasn’t heading home but in the direction of Rose Hill. Shit. Despite Lawson’s warning still ringing loud and clear in his head, every instinct in his body wanted to go to Tabitha, to check she was okay and to say how sorry he was. But nothing had changed, and he didn’t trust himself to be near her.
He slammed his foot on the brakes and did a three-point turn, making one of the hardest decisions of his life.
As Ferg drove back through Walsh on his way to the farm, he almost turned into the pub to grab himself another six-pack of beer. The urge to drown his sorrows was strong, but at the last moment common sense prevailed. Beer wasn’t always the answer—just look at the trouble it had got him into last night.
So instead, he went home, ate the leftover ice-cream Tabitha had brought over and tried to distract himself with a little lesson planning. When that didn’t work, he sat down on the couch next to Mrs Norris to watch some TV.
‘Looks like it’s just you and me again,’ he told her.
She offered him her signature look of disdain, then jumped off the couch and stalked out the room, her tail and nose straight up in the air. It was the loneliest evening he’d spent in a long time.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Something to Talk About (Rose Hill, #2) Page 26
