Reunited by Their Pregnancy Surprise

by Louisa Heaton

  Emily looked up at him. ‘Triggered what? A memory?’

  ‘I don’t know. I need to think about it. But I think I saw…’

  She looked scared. ‘Saw what?’

  ‘I think I saw our crash. I think I saw me spinning the wheel. I don’t know…’

  Emily laid a hand upon his arm. ‘I think we need a strong coffee or two. Let’s go find a café.’

  He looked at her and nodded. That seemed sensible. He didn’t want them to get onto the mopeds right after seeing that bike accident. He wouldn’t feel right. And it had made him see how vulnerable Emily was, exposed like that on the bike. Anything could hit her. Could take her from him!

  He couldn’t have that.

  ‘Good idea.’ He resolved to get the mopeds returned as soon as possible.

  CHAPTER SIX

  THE COFFEE WENT some way to restoring their nerves. As did the slice of caramel dacquoise they shared. And once they’d returned the mopeds, and Sam had changed into a new shirt at the hotel, throwing his torn one into the wastepaper basket, they decided to head back out and reclaim the day for their own.

  Em held his hand as they walked. ‘So that’s a couple of memories that have come back since we’ve been here. That’s good.’

  That day he’d followed her to her office at the hospital, after they’d argued about him partying, had been the day he’d accused her of being selfish, of only thinking of herself and what she wanted from their relationship.

  ‘Selfish? You think I’m selfish because I want to start a family with you?’

  ‘It’s all you ever talk about! “I want to get pregnant…” “I want a baby…” “I want us to start trying.” Do you ever ask me what I want?’

  She’d shaken her head, confused.

  ‘What do you want, Sam?’

  He’d straightened, his face blanching.

  ‘I’m not ready to be a father yet.’

  ‘Why? Please tell me.’

  ‘I can’t…’

  His voice had trailed away, and for a moment he’d looked helpless and lost. She’d feared, then, that he was unable to tell her something painful, so she’d broached the subject herself.

  ‘Don’t you love me, Sam?’

  ‘Of course I do.’

  ‘Then why don’t you want us to have a child together? I don’t understand. What’s so wrong with starting a family? We help everyone else do it, day after day, why not us?’

  He’d not answered her and so, frustrated, she’d stormed away from him, furious that she could never get a straight answer from him, furious with herself for allowing it to mean so much that it was tearing them apart.

  She’d told him earlier today that she’d just been upset at him for staying out with those clients. Well, it had certainly been more than that. Sam hadn’t come home that night but had worked straight through, and he’d only gone off shift when she’d clocked on in the morning.

  It had been so humiliating! All the staff at the Monterey must have noticed. How could they not? They’d raised their voices in the hospital corridor and brought a personal matter into the workplace. Even Emily was appalled at herself for that. What must the patients have thought? A premier birthing centre set in the heart of a marital dispute!

  Keen to put good memories back into Sam’s head, Emily decided it was time for them to return to the Île de Reuily, otherwise known as the Temple of Love. They’d gone there on their first trip, and Emily was keen for them to go again. There was so much they needed to talk about and sort through, and now that his memories might be coming back she was keen to let him know and understand exactly where she had been coming from. Before any more came back and completely blindsided him. Damaging them for ever.

  They needed to talk about the family issue. About what had been keeping them separate. It had to be confronted—probably here more than anywhere, because they were now in a place where both of them were trying to save their marriage.

  The distance between them had been scaring her. She’d known their marriage was failing, and yet every time she’d tried to get Sam back he’d just moved farther and farther away. She’d not known who he was any more, and it had made her fear that she’d never really known him at all.

  This man had made her world shine brighter once and she wanted that back again. There had to be a way for them to get there.

  Sam knew a little of her background, but she’d never gone into detail. Nor had he. Their relationship had blossomed quickly and ferociously. Both of them had been swept away on an intense new love, and if they hadn’t been busy planning their wedding they’d been busy planning and running their business.

  They needed this trip to get to know one another properly. Away from work. On neutral ground. They needed to understand each other—who they were and what had made them that way. Maybe then, and only then, would they begin to understand where it had all gone wrong.

  So when Sam had returned to their room to change his shirt Emily had picked up the full picnic basket she’d asked the hotel to provide. The temple would be the perfect spot for them to talk, to clear the air and to watch the sun set.

  ‘Where are we going?’ Sam asked.

  ‘On a magical mystery tour. Trust me.’ She smiled, making her way to the Line Eight Métro to get to their destination.

  They people-watched for a while. Paris was filled with so many unique faces, both residents and visitors, but the city had a certain style, a je ne sais quois that oozed from every pore, every street, and the mix of cultures and voices helped provide that.

  At the Michel Bizot stop they got off and began their walk up a long palm-tree-lined avenue. The weather was beautiful. Perfect for a picnic. Emily was looking forward to sitting down with him, enjoying his company with the good food that the hotel had provided.

  They stopped briefly to look and take photos at the Musée National de l’Histoire de l’Immigration. It was a magnificent building that had figures and animals, trees and historic events carved into its exterior, like a stone Bayeux tapestry. Intrigued, they headed inside, and Sam asked if they could leave their picnic basket at Reception whilst they took a look around.

  It was the perfect place to revive their sense of wellbeing after the accident they’d witnessed, and as they were looking around Sam received a call from the hospital to inform him that Alain was stable. Happy at the news, Sam draped his arm around Emily’s shoulder and they walked around the numerous eclectic displays.

  ‘I could spend all day here,’ Emily said, knowing that they wouldn’t. Knowing that she needed to talk to him. Confront him about the real issue. But for now she could pretend that all of that wasn’t ahead of her. At least she could try to.

  ‘Why don’t we? There’s a park nearby—we could eat the picnic there afterwards.’

  She thought about it, but, no, she wanted them to go to the temple on the island. ‘I really want to show you the lake and island I was telling you about.’

  She didn’t want him to know why. Yes, it was the most beautiful place she’d ever been, but it was also isolated. The perfect place for them to talk. To share. To make up some of the ground between them, to forge new bonds and strengthen themselves once again. At least that was what she hoped would happen. But it was nerve-racking. What if it all went wrong? What if he refused to talk about his past? His issues?

  He nodded, seeming happy to be guided by her. Paris had been her plan, after all, and so far it was working. He’d gained a few memories that he hadn’t had before.

  After an hour or two spent in the museum, they headed into the park of the Bois de Vincennes.

  There was an exquisite flower garden, a kaleidoscope of colour, surrounded by neat swathes of pale green lawn and dark green trees, and with the heat of the summer sun it was the ideal place for them to be after their adventure that morning.

  Emily smiled as Sam looked around, bowled over by the beauty of the place. ‘I told you it was worth it.’

  He turned to face her. ‘You’re worth it.�
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  She smiled back and kissed him, revelling in the taste of his lips, the sun on their faces. In the warmth of not just being with the man she loved, but the joy of knowing that she was getting back the husband she adored. That he was trying as much as she was.

  But nerves were bubbling under the surface. It was nearly time. Time to say everything. Explain everything. Dig deep and find out what had truly been keeping them apart.

  Where would they both be by the end of this day? A little closer? Understanding each other? Or would they be even further apart?

  ‘Let’s head for the lake. I hope you’ve got your arms ready to do some rowing?’

  He nodded. ‘I’ve carried this basket most of the afternoon. I’m sure my muscles are all warmed up for the oars.’

  There was a long row of boats lined up by the lakeside.

  ‘They’ve all got names on. I wonder if there’s a rowing boat called Emily?’

  ‘Or Sam. Not all boats are named after ladies, you know?’

  The white boats were small, edged in red, with the inside of the boat painted in blue. Once they’d paid and Sam had helped Emily get in, making sure she was sitting down properly before he began, he took hold of the oars and gently pushed them out onto the lake.

  It was very calm on the water. Poplars and tall grass bordered the lake, whilst weeping willows dipped their weary branches down into the water, creating little concealed areas where couples could take a boat and have a little privacy if they so wished.

  But Emily knew exactly where she wanted to go.

  There were hardly any other people out on the lake as she pointed across the still green water to the island in the centre. Upon the island stood a beautiful domed temple, supported by tall, slim columns of white stone. It sat on a grassy outcrop, and beneath it could be seen craggy rocks and what looked like, from a distance, numerous caves.

  ‘Is that where we’re headed?’ asked Sam.

  She nodded. ‘It is. It’s the place you first called me Mrs Saint.’

  ‘Oh, yes? What else did I say to you there?’

  She laughed. ‘Lots of things! Some of them rather rude…’

  ‘I’m intrigued!’

  ‘Feels odd to think that we’re back here and this time I’m carrying our baby.’

  He glanced at her briefly, then looked behind him at the temple once more.

  Sensing a shift in his mood, Emily tilted her head in question. ‘Are you happy, Sam?’

  He turned back to her. ‘Me? Course I am. How could I not be? I’m here in Paris, with my beautiful wife, on a gorgeous day, and…’ His voice trailed away.

  ‘And…?’

  ‘And I couldn’t be any happier.’

  ‘Really? You seem a little…sad.’

  ‘Not sad, no. Pensive, maybe.’

  ‘What about?’

  He laughed and looked away. ‘Oh, lots of little things. Nothing you need to worry about.’

  But she did. This need for privacy, this do not enter that Sam had about him was what had caused a lot of their problems in the first place. He was meant to share his worries with her. Meant to share his concerns, his fears. She was his wife.

  ‘Is it work?’

  Sam shrugged. ‘I am keen to get back. To me, even though logically I know the centre’s open and I’ve worked there, I don’t remember that. I want to walk the halls. I want to meet patients…’

  ‘Of course. I have to keep reminding myself of that fact. That you don’t remember. You don’t know. That what’s normal to me is still the unknown to you. I mean… I’ve seen you there at the Monterey. I’ve watched you work.’

  For a while there was silence except for the sound of the boat moving through the water, the splash and the creak of the oars in their housing either side of the boat. The water had a pleasant aroma to it—of fresh and vibrant greenery, of summer, of life.

  Emily laid a hand upon her belly, thinking of her child’s future. ‘Sometimes I can’t quite believe the way things have turned out myself.’

  She saw him glance at her belly, and then he turned to negotiate their arrival at the island beneath the temple. He got up and jumped out, using the chain from the boat to moor them to the wooden pier. Then he reached out his hand and helped her off the boat, before going back to retrieve the picnic basket.

  They headed up the steps to the temple.

  The round temple was beautiful in its simplicity, with a domed roof and gorgeous views out across the lake. The setting sun reflected light off the surface, glinting as if the water was filled with jewels, and they stood appreciating it for just a moment.

  Sam gazed down at his wife and noticed that her hand was still laid across her gently swelling abdomen.

  He loved her so much. Was he going to ruin everything with his doubts? Would she see him for the fraud that he was? But then maybe—perhaps—he wasn’t the only one with doubts? Emily had never been a mother before. Perhaps she was scared, too?

  ‘Does the future worry you, Em?’

  She gazed over the beautiful lake. ‘A bit. Becoming a parent is new territory for both of us.’

  He nodded. ‘It is.’

  ‘Even though I wanted this baby, I know you didn’t. But it happened anyway. I always thought it would be something we would want together. That we would make it happen together.’

  ‘We did. Despite our arguments, it seems.’

  ‘We were drunk.’

  He let out a sigh. ‘Lots of babies are conceived from a drunken night.’

  ‘I worry about whether I’ll be a good mother. It’s not like I was given the best example of how to do it.’

  Sam frowned. He couldn’t remember much about her family situation. Had she told him before? He couldn’t recall.

  ‘Tell me.’

  She looked back at Sam. Yes. These were the things they needed to talk about. But she couldn’t imagine it would be a comfortable conversation, standing here like this. This was going to be a conversation that would take time.

  ‘Let’s see if there’s a blanket in that picnic basket, because this stone step is uncomfortable.’

  They opened it up and, sure enough, attached to the lid of the basket was a folded, padded blanket, which they laid upon the ground. Once they were settled, and Sam had poured each of them some sparkling water, Emily continued with her story.

  ‘You remember I don’t really have any close family?’

  He nodded. ‘Just your aunt and uncle.’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘Have you told me much about them? In the last two years, I mean?’

  ‘I’ve told you the bare bones, but never the full story.’

  ‘So tell me now.’ He laid his hand on hers.

  She appreciated his support and comfort. Appreciated that he was ready to listen. Open to strengthening their bonds. It was why she’d wanted to bring him to this place. What they both needed to do if they were going to move forward together. And if she shared first then maybe Sam would do so afterwards.

  ‘My mother had always been a rebellious woman, from what Aunt Sylvia told me. If there were conventions and rules and expectations to break, then my mother did that. She got pregnant with me, without being married—which, as my aunt was fond of telling me, caused a great scandal, as if it had happened in Victorian times. The fact that my mother never knew who my father was made it worse. Apparently there were many candidates.’

  Sam rubbed her hand in sympathy.

  ‘Anyway, my mother looked after me for about six months after I was born. I don’t remember her, or that time. I was too young. I do have a photograph of me on her knee. My mother was into music, big-time, and she absolutely adored this one particular band. When they came into town to play she went to see them, was invited to an after-show party and that was that. She fell madly in love and simply had to be with this man, had to travel with him when they went on tour. Only a baby didn’t fit into her plans, so she turned up at my Aunt Sylvia’s house one day and asked if she would
look after me for the night.’

  ‘For one night?’

  Emily nodded. ‘Only she lied. She never came back and I got left behind. Forgotten about.’

  ‘I’m sure she didn’t forget you.’

  ‘I never heard from her again. I can’t have been a concern to her.’

  ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘Sylvia and Martin were not best pleased—no one would be, to be honest. You agree to babysit, grudgingly, for the child of a sister you never really got on with and she never comes back… They were furious. My aunt and uncle did their best, but they weren’t natural parents. I was a demanding baby, just starting to learn to sit up and grab things and squeal. They had nothing for me, apart from what my mother had left, and they suddenly had to find money to buy nappies, extra food, clothing, toys… Uncle Martin didn’t have the best of health either. He suffered from a really bad back. And suddenly he had to work all these extra shifts, plus overtime, to help pay for me. I hardly saw him.’

  ‘And your aunt?’

  ‘She’d never wanted children. Not really. She’d grown up with my mother, who had apparently stolen all the attention of their parents. My mother was “the pretty one”, the “clever one”. Although Sylvia never said as much, I kind of got the feeling that she felt second-best. Never appreciated as much. Never loved as much. And now here she was, having to look after her sister’s child.

  ‘They tried to make me happy, but I could feel the resentment from them both. They never said anything outright, but…it wasn’t right. So as a child I dreamt of happy, loving families, all sitting around a dinner table, laughing and joking and enjoying being with each other. I pictured what it would be like if we were happy. What our family portraits might look like. But we never did anything like that. There were photos, of course. Plenty of them. Just not the kind I wanted.’

  ‘Your aunt and uncle sound like they struggled a bit.’

  ‘They did their best. But my aunt never really got over her resentment of my mother, who seemed to have freedom and the world at her feet while they took care of her mistake.’