by Kate Hewitt
“Are you angry with me, Will?” Esther spoke the words quietly, clearly meaning them, and he stared at her in wary surprise. She was fiddling, he noticed, with her wedding ring. As far as he knew, she’d never taken it off. He certainly hadn’t taken his off.
“What? Why are you asking me that now?”
“Because of everything. Because I’ve been so… so difficult, I suppose. And because… because I didn’t want to have children, and I never even told you. And the way I said… I didn’t mean it so… so personally. But I know how it sounded.”
How had he not been supposed to take it personally? But he wanted to be done with it now. “It’s done, Esther.”
“Is it?” She bit her lip. “You haven’t answered my question.”
“What question?”
“Are you still angry with me?” She shook her head. “Sorry, this isn’t the kind of romantic scenario we were both probably envisioning, but I feel like I have to get it out there before we can move on.” She gave a wry little grimace. “Perhaps it’s the effect of going to counselling.”
“You’re going to counselling?” That surprised him. Esther was as buttoned-up as they came, or at least she used to be. Clearly it was all change.
“Yes, I know, surprising, isn’t it?” She let out a little laugh. “Mum suggested it, and while at first I wanted to run away screaming from the idea, I realized eventually that it might have some merit. I’ve felt like I’ve lost myself over the last few months. I want to find myself again, but not just go back to the way I used to be, if that makes sense. To become someone new, yet someone more me.” She shook her head. “Now I’m really sounding crazy.”
“No, you’re not.”
“So are you angry? Seriously?” She met his gaze squarely, as she used to. His plain-speaking tell-it-like-it-is Esther. How he loved her, and yet… Will realized he needed to speak the truth, as well.
“Yes,” he said slowly. “A bit.”
Esther nodded, looking sad but accepting. “I’m not surprised.”
“But I’m angry with myself too,” Will said, feeling for the words slowly and choosing them with care. “Because I should have realized something was going on. And I suppose I should have asked you if you wanted to have kids. It was one thing out of many that we never talked about, I guess.”
“I don’t know if I never want to have children,” Esther said slowly. “Although I recognize it’s getting kind of late. It’s just… I was so scared, Will. And I was surprised by how scared I was.”
“And you didn’t feel you could tell me.” That was the nub of it, wasn’t it? Esther hadn’t told him and he hadn’t had a bloody clue.
“No, I guess I didn’t. I felt guilty for feeling the way I did. And I didn’t want you to look at me differently. But when… when I saw that scan… when I felt the relief… then I felt even worse. And the guilt kept eating away at me, and I felt as if it was impossible to talk to you because we never talked like that…” She shook her head. “So I understand why you’re angry.” She spread her hands, letting out a wobbly laugh. “I suppose the real question to ask is, can you forgive me? Can we go on from here, dating or no dating?”
“Oh, Esther.” A bloody great lump was forming in his throat, and Will took a sip of his drink to ease it. He didn’t want to start bawling like a baby in the middle of the nicest restaurant he’d ever been in. “I’ve already forgiven you. It’s nowt a question of that. It never was.”
“There you are, going Cumbrian on me.”
“It happens, you know, when I get het up.”
They smiled at each other, and, with relief, Will felt as if things were lightening between them. Strengthening. Somehow he’d found the right words, after all, and they’d been easy to say. Perhaps the right words always were.
It became simpler then, for both of them, as they moved the conversation on, talking about the farm and the village and the community garden, and Will chimed in with a few ideas about soil management and landscaping, and by the time their starters came they were drawing diagrams on scraps of paper, and Will thought maybe, just maybe, it was going to be all right. They’d stumble their way through the dark together.
*
Esther was feeling the tiniest bit tipsy and really very happy as she climbed back into Will’s Rover two hours later. It had been touch and go first, stops and starts with the conversation and more importantly, the honesty, but they’d got there in the end. As for where “there” was… Esther wasn’t sure it mattered so much anymore. They were there together.
“So, are you going to ask me out again?” she asked, realizing woozily and belatedly that she sounded rather flirtatious. She decided she liked it.
“I might.” Will’s voice was a low rumble in his chest, and for some reason it reminded Esther of when they’d first kissed, after their second date. They’d been walking down a street in Keswick and he’d laced his fingers through hers and tugged her towards him, and for a second he’d just smiled down at her before he’d leaned in for a thorough and uncompromising kiss, the kiss of a man who definitely knew what he was doing.
It felt like eons since she’d been kissed. Jurassic ages, and yet it had only been weeks. But it had been longer than that since she’d felt like this, with her stomach fizzing and her heart starting to race. She really wanted Will to kiss her.
They drove in a silence that felt more and more expectant the closer they got to Thornthwaite. Then Will was pulling into the church lane, parking the Rover in front of the vicarage, its darkened hulk reassuring Esther that her parents were hopefully asleep and not waiting by the door.
“I feel like such a teenager,” she said with a hiccuppy laugh.
“If you were a teenager, your father would be out on the front steps.”
“He wouldn’t—”
“He was with Miriam, don’t you remember? Her sixth form ball. She was furious.”
Esther laughed. “Of course. We all came over for photos beforehand.” Somehow she’d forgotten how bound up Will was with her family. He’d been part of it for ten years. She turned to him, about to say something of what she was thinking, but then she saw the intent look in his eyes, and the way his gaze dropped to her mouth, and her stomach fizzed all the more.
“Well, he’s not standing outside the door now,” she said softly.
“No,” Will agreed, his voice low. “He isn’t.”
A full minute, or what felt like it, ticked by as they simply stared at each other. Then Will let out a little growling sound and reached for her, and Esther practically scrambled over the seat to get close to him.
His lips came down on hers as his arms came around her body and they were kissing, gloriously kissing, in a way they hadn’t since Esther could even remember—and it felt wonderful. Incredibly wonderful, because somehow she’d practically forgotten what a good kisser Will was, and how hard his chest felt, and how much she loved feeling his strong arms around her. She felt safe there. Safe and loved.
They kissed and kissed until they were both breathless, and then Will wrenched away, running a hand through his hair.
“I think we should probably say good night.”
“What?” Esther blinked at him as her heart kept thudding. “Seriously?”
“We’re dating, remember?”
“We’re married.”
Will smiled wryly. “We’re going back to the beginning, right? I’m serious about this, Esther. I’m serious about you. Let’s get to know each other again, properly. No rushing. No falling right back into where we were.”
Right now, Esther very much felt like rushing. Like falling. Her blood felt as if it was boiling in her veins, surging through her. But even amidst the clamber of her own need, she heard the still, small voice of common sense.
Will was right. If they rushed into this, into them, they’d as likely as not fall back into the same old patterns.
And, she realized, there was something strangely exciting about delayed gratification. So she lean
ed over and gave Will a lingering kiss, and smiled against his mouth as he gripped her arms hard, steadying her, keeping her at a distance, or maybe keeping her close.
She eased back and he released her, smiling wryly.
“Good night, Esther.”
“Good night, Will.”
Smiling, she slipped from his lap and the Rover, and walked into the vicarage with a satisfied, cat-like grin still on her face.
Chapter Seventeen
Will stood on the vicarage steps in his best Aran jumper—one Esther had given him last Christmas—and a pair of new cords, a bottle of wine clutched in his hand. He felt unaccountably nervous, which was stupid, because he’d climbed these steps a thousand times.
Trouble was, it felt different now, and so much more was at stake. He hadn’t seen Esther since their date, but he’d been smiling about it for the better part of a week. And now it was Easter Sunday, and they were all going to church together before having one of Ruth’s epic roast dinners back at the vicarage. Make or break time, and he didn’t think he was imagining that.
Resolutely he knocked on the door, and it was opened seconds later by Anna, looking flushed and happy.
“Will! Come in, come in. You don’t have to knock, you know.”
He shrugged, half-mumbling, “It seemed right.”
“Dad’s already over at church,” Anna continued, “and I’m just trying to get the Yorkshire batter done before we have to leave.”
She beckoned him back towards the kitchen, which was emanating lovely smells of roast lamb. Ruth, dressed in a bright pink shift dress and cardigan, swathed in an apron that said Kiss the Vicar, gave Will a big smile and a cheery wave.
“Will, come in! Oh, you didn’t have to bring a bottle, but thank you. You know it all goes down a treat.” He put the bottle on the kitchen table, looking around as if Esther might materialize from the steamy depths of the cosy room. “Esther’s just finishing getting ready,” Ruth said knowingly. “But she’ll be here shortly. Oh, is that Rachel and Dan?”
Will wandered out to the hall again, just in time to see Rachel pull sharply away from Dan. She turned to Will with an over-wide smile.
“Will! It’s so good to see you.” She gave him a quick hug which Will returned. It was good to be back at the vicarage, a place where he’d always felt he belonged, but it also felt strange and awkward, considering his and Esther’s uncertain status.
Except perhaps it wasn’t so uncertain anymore.
“There she is.” Dan, who had been looking tense and unhappy after his exchange with Rachel, forced a smile as he nodded towards Esther. “Come on down.”
Esther smiled rather shyly, her gaze seeking out Will’s. She looked lovely in a knit dress of deep blue, one he hadn’t seen before, not that he remembered, anyway. She’d pulled her hair back into a low ponytail and earrings glittered at her ears.
Will cleared his throat. “You look nice.”
“Thank you.”
Dan and Rachel had melted away, leaving them alone in the hall, and they smiled uncertainly at each other for a few seconds before Esther quickly stood on her tiptoes and kissed his check.
“Happy Easter, Will.”
He didn’t have time to reply, because Rachel was marching back in, a wicker basket looped over one arm. “Right, you two, break it up. I’m putting you in charge of the Easter egg hunt this year.”
Esther turned to her sister, startled. “What?”
“I’ve always had to do it because I’m the teacher, but it’s time you had a go, Esther. You hide the eggs all around the church, and make sure you put the signs up so they know where to go. And most importantly, make sure the Denton twins don’t take more than three eggs each. They always try to sneak some, and then some poor little blighter doesn’t get any.”
“Rachel, you are so much better at this—”
“And, this year, I want a break,” Rachel said firmly. “There’s time to hide the eggs before church. Anna and I will hand out the chocolate eggs at the door.”
“And what should I do?” Dan asked jovially, and Rachel flicked him a quick, inscrutable glance.
“You can hand them out too, and keep the boys in line.”
Will glanced at the pair of them curiously, wondering what was going on. Something had to be, if even he could feel the tension in the air. He hoped they sorted it out, even as he felt a treacherous little flicker of relief that his and Esther’s problems might not take centre stage, at least for today.
Rachel thrust the basket of eggs at Esther, who had no choice but to take it. She gave Will a bemused glance. “Shall we?”
“All right, then.”
Outside the air was still damp from the rain last night, although sunshine was breaking through the wispy shreds of cloud. Everything sparkled and gleamed, the gravel crunching underfoot as they walked over to the churchyard adjacent to the vicarage.
“Right.” Esther glanced down at the basket of plastic eggs. “So we hide these and at the end they can exchange them for chocolate ones.” She nodded towards the Memory Garden across from the church. “That’s as good a place as any, I suppose.”
Silently they headed over towards the little space that had been turned into a memorial for lost loved ones years ago, before Roger Holley had taken up his position. Will hadn’t been in there much before, and he glanced at it now, taking in the crocuses and daffodils that were just starting to poke up from the damp soil, the rose bushes with buds still tightly furled. Esther had bent to hide an egg on the base of a little stone memorial, but she froze for a second as she read the inscription. Will came over to join her so he could read it too.
In Memory of Our Littlest One. Underneath was an etching of a tiny baby being held in a pair of hands. Staring at the picture and inscription, Will felt as if he’d been punched in the gut. A pain he’d thought he’d dealt with lanced through him, and looking at Esther’s face, he knew she felt it too.
She might have been scared to be pregnant, but she missed their baby, the hope of it, as much as he did. He put one hand on her shoulder, and she pressed a hand to her mouth.
“I don’t know why I feel sad.”
“Seems a natural response to me.”
“Yes, but…” She drew a quick, hitched breath and shook her head.
“Look, Esther, I’m no expert, but I think it’s normal to feel two things at once. We’re complex creatures, us humans, or so they say. Stop making everything so black and white.”
“I wasn’t even pregnant…”
“Yes, you were. The test came up positive. You had morning sickness. We hoped.” His voice came out fierce. “You were scared and yes, relieved, but you’re allowed to feel sad, too. Why won’t you let yourself?”
Esther let out a shaky sigh. “Because I feel so guilty, I suppose.”
“I’m not the one who can deal with that. You’ve got to let it go, Esther. Only you can.” Will stopped, because he’d said all he could, but at least he could still do something. Gently he pulled her into a hug, wrapping his arms around her as he rested his chin on her head. Esther returned the hug, her cheek pressed against his chest. Will would have been happy to stay that way forever, or at least an hour or two.
The church bell had started to ring, though, and reluctantly they separated. “We ought to make a move with these eggs,” Esther said, and Will took a couple from the basket.
“Come on, then. I’ll give the Denton twins a run for their money.”
*
As Esther walked into the church ten minutes later, the eggs all well hidden and Will by her side, something that had been clenched tightly inside her started to loosen.
She breathed in the familiar, slightly musty smell of the church, candle wax and fresh flowers and dust as she caught her father’s eye. He was standing by the door to welcome people, dressed in his cassock and surplice, looking as jovial as ever, and Esther’s heart twisted with love. What would she have done these last few weeks without her parents? What would she d
o without them in a little less than three months, when they left?
As if sensing her thoughts, Will slipped his hand into hers and Esther clung to him. Were they back together officially, finally, for good? She didn’t know, but she had a good feeling about it. About them. And that was something she’d been waiting and hoping for, for a long time.
They took their places in the front pew next to Ruth and Anna; Simon was up at the front, with Roger, but Esther saw him shoot Anna a quick, loving smile. Dan and Rachel slipped in after them, and then the first few joyous notes of “Jesus Christ is Risen Today” boomed from the organ, and everyone stood up.
As Esther joined in the hymn she’d sung every year since she could remember, the loosening and lightening inside her increased, until she was smiling as she sang. Will had told her she needed to stop feeling guilty, and wasn’t that what Easter was all about? The ultimate reset button for humanity, for her. She would never presume or hope to have the kind of faith her parents had, but in that moment, she felt a gentle nudge, a settling of peace. Maybe second chances were possible after all, not just for her and Will together, but for her as a person, a woman, even a mother. She could move on. She could let go.
“Aaa-aaa-aaa-aaa-lei-lu-a,” she sang lustily, and Will grinned at her.
Despite their best attempts to hide the eggs in difficult places, the egg hunt after church was a mad scrum. Rachel had given Esther a knowing and rather evil grin as she stepped aside to let Will and Esther manage the proceedings, which they did rather badly and in bafflement.
The aforementioned Denton twins went tearing off before Esther had finished giving instructions, and Will reached one hand out and grabbed one of the ten-year-old boys by the scruff of his jumper. He looked shocked, and started to protest, and Will silenced him with a look. Esther watched, a smile tugging at her lips as a sudden thought slipped into her mind unbidden. Will would make a great dad.
Her heart twisted at the thought and she looked away. How could she think that, after everything? And yet she did. The rest of the children raced off and Esther and Will tried to keep up with them, making sure the older ones didn’t take too many eggs, or snatch all the easy ones, and she encouraged the shyer, younger ones along. They fell into their roles naturally, with Will keeping a stern eye on the rowdy boys while Esther helped the smaller children.
