The promise of Forever (The Promise Series Book 2)

by K. L. Jessop

  “Hi Daddy? Oh, hi, Ruby sweetheart,” James says sarcastically to her, trying to tickle her as she passes him. She giggles and climbs up onto my lap, taking the apple Karen has just handed her.

  “James, you should know by now that when I’m around I have every female’s attention,” I say.

  “I still don’t understand why,” he replies sarcastically.

  “It’s called charm. They easily fall for my attraction. Isn’t that right, Tamzin?”

  “The only thing I fell for was the bowl of punch. I somehow just ended up with you as a result of it.” She gives me a teasing smile and I turn back to the little lady wanting my attention.

  “So, how was school?”

  “Good,” she says, munching on her apple and swinging her leg. “I posted my Christmas cards in the school post box, and Miss Robinson picked our parts for the Nativity.”

  “She did? And has my favourite girl got a part?”

  “I’m a donkey,” she beams, clearly excited with her role. James however mutters under his breath as though he’s not impressed.

  “A donkey!” I match her excitement. “Wow, that’s awesome.”

  “Will you and Tamzin come see me in the play? I’ll get Daddy to buy you tickets. He’s the one with all the money.”

  “Of course; we wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

  “Yes!” she squeals.

  “Ruby, go and get changed out of your school clothes please,” Karen calls. Ruby squeezes me in a tight hug before running upstairs singing a Christmas song she’s clearly learned in school as it’s one I don’t recognise. It’s little things like this that I’m looking forward to when becoming a father. Family is so important to me; I never realised just how important until Tamzin fell pregnant.

  “James, you don’t seem overly enthusiastic about Ruby’s Nativity,” Tamzin inquires, smoothing her hand over her stomach and I’m itching to replace it with mine.

  “They’ve made her a fucking donkey. Everyone knows the kid’s good enough to be Mary.”

  I can’t help but grin at his frustration. “Dude it’s her first school play.”

  “Yeah, and they’ve more or less said the girl is an arse.”

  “Oh, James, don’t be so melodramatic it’s just a play,” Karen says, laughing

  “Karen, you’ll have to let us know the date so we can make it.” Tamzin adds.

  “I will do. Also have you thought anymore about the Carol service at church? You never replied to my text.”

  It crosses my mind that Tamzin’s lack of response to Karen’s message is perhaps her way of hoping going to Church will disappear. Not in our family it doesn’t. You face your challenges head on no matter how bad it hurts. “We’ll be there,” I respond, looking directly at Tamzin.

  “Great.” Karen beams. “Also, while I’m on the subject, Ruby’s mentioned wanting her Uncle No-No to go to the School’s Christmas fair so she can do the lucky dip with you. But no sweat if you can’t make that one.”

  “Jeez, that girl has some social life for a five-year-old.”

  “Get use to it, little brother,” James chips in. “Before you know it, you’ll be filling your diary full of school performances and parents’ evenings instead of nights out and dinner dates.” He’s forever ripping into me about how my life will change once the baby arrives. I’m not sure if he’s doing it to prepare me or scare me shitless but I find myself just laughing it off.

  “You sound so deprived, James,” Tamzin replies with a laugh.

  “I am. I’ve not seen the inside of a decent bar in five years. Instead of waking up with a sore head and a belly full of beer, I wake with lipstick on my face and glitter in my hair.”

  “Jesus what kind of bars do you go to?” I joke.

  “Ones guaranteed to give you nightmares.”

  Noel.

  “How are you feeling in yourself?” April our mid-wife asks Tamzin as she lies on the bed. She’s been great with her throughout this pregnancy and everything we went through in the beginning.

  “Tired but good.”

  “Baby still moving around okay?”

  “Yes. It’s become very active a night. I’m hoping that doesn’t mean it’s going to be a night owl.”

  I love watching and feeling our baby move. We’ll spend hours in front of the open fire just watching it move around while talking to it, playing the Malteser game to see if it can kick one off Tamzin’s stomach. We never found out the sex as we want to keep it a surprise so the reveal is more exciting. I’m a little old fashioned when it comes to stuff like this. Why people these days find out the sex and post that and the name on social media before it’s even born is beyond me. What happened to the surprise element of it?

  April squirts the cold jelly on Tamzin’s stomach before placing the doppler on to listen for the heartbeat. Tamzin reaches out for my hand: this part always makes us anxious regardless of how much it might have moved just moments before. The grin on our faces widens as the thundering sound of a train racing the tracks fills the room. It sounds different every time.

  “The heartbeat is sounding well,” April replies. Tamzin is just mesmerised by the beat as her eyes become a little glassed.

  I kiss her forehead. “Dumpling sounds strong, angel.”

  “Everything sounds great,” April says, wiping Tamzin’s stomach before I help her off the bed so she can check her blood pressure. I always get nervous coming to these appointments. At first, I thought it was excitement but after our scare the flash of dread that runs through me has me gripping the stearin wheel while I drive here. Until I hear that little heartbeat I can’t settle.

  “Have you been having headaches, or blurred vision at all?”

  “No. Is everything alright?” Tamzin asks April, the worry in her tone doesn’t go unnoticed.

  “You’re blood pressure is a little high. It could be the fact you’re here and your anxious but I’d like to keep an eye on it. Any higher and we could be looking at risk to both you and the baby.”

  Risk? Fuck not again.

  “What do we need to do?” I ask, trying to hide my worry.

  “Nothing you’re not doing already. It’s important to keep eating a healthy diet and rest as much as you can.”

  “Have I done anything wrong?”

  “Not at all,” April says, placing her hand on Tamzin’s. “You have no control over it. If it’s going to spike it will no matter what you do. Just keep an eye out for any headaches, blurred vision or generally feeling unwell. There’s no need for bed rest, keep doing what you have been doing but just take it easy.”

  “I’ll make sure she does,” I reply.

  “Go home and take your mind off it. Finish your birthing plan I keep telling you about. I need to know what you want.” April smiles.

  “Other than wanting a truck load of drugs and the baby being ok, I don’t care what happens.”

  “Well, unfortunately I need a little more detail than that. What drugs do you want? Will you both want Noel to cut the cord?”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Tamzin sighs.

  I help Tamzin into her coat and take our maternity notes from April. “And I’ll also make sure she does that too.”

  The December breeze is biting as we walk along the London street towards my office building of H.T. Limited. Tamzin’s arm is looped around mine as she’s snuggled up in her red winter coat that she still manages to fit into. Although I’ve taken some time off work, Tamzin is still working as she’s due to finish for maternity soon. If I had my way she would have finished weeks ago, but she’s not having any of it. We continue to walk in silence, she’s hardly spoke a word since we left April and I’m wanting to know what’s on her mind.

  “Let’s go get some lunch.”

  “I’d love to but I’m due back in ten minutes.”

  “And the last time I checked you were in sexual relations with the boss who calls the shots.”

  “You know him?”

  “I’ve heard he’s a catch.�
��

  “I wouldn’t go that far; his ego is way to big,” she teases, looking up at me with a half grin.

  “Come on, let’s go feed this baby.”

  We’re at Bill’s Restaurant in Covent Garden—a contemporary chic/urban style place with natural wood, metal piping overhead and tea lights on the tables—having a bite to eat. Tamzin orders a life-size portion of chips and barbeque sauce washed down with a hot chocolate while I’ve gone for a Turkey dinner sandwich and a coffee. The Restaurant is busy but this time of year it’s nothing unusual. People come and go with smiles on their faces and the glee of Christmas in their eye, shaking off the winter chill with a hot drink and good food.

  “What’s on your mind, Tamzin?” I ask as she stares at the chip she’s pushing around her plate.

  “Do you think I eat too much?” A look of concern on her face.

  “Angel, you’re eating for two.”

  “That’s not answering my question.”

  “I never realised I had to be more in-depth.”

  I knew this would happen. Our appointment with April and what she has said has put Tamzin’s mind on overdrive, and instead of getting to the point of what’s really worrying her, she diverts the conversation so she doesn’t have to talk about it.

  She glares at me. “I asked if you think I’m fat.”

  “Nooo, you asked if you ate too much.”

  “It’s the same damn thing, Noel,” she barks, and I have to hold my words back with my own frustration at her sudden mood change. Rule number one: never piss off a pregnant woman. Rule number two: always agree even if you know damn well she’s wrong.

  I exhale and reach for her hand. “What’s really on your mind, angel?”

  She looks away from me and shrugs her shoulders, her voice low. “It’s just something April keeps mentioning about watching what I eat.”

  You see, she’s not getting to the actual topic of what April said. Risk. That one word we always seem to hear. That one word I know plays her mind like it’s doing right now. That one word she tries to avoid. She’s worried, I get that, but it frustrates the fuck out of me that I’m having to sit here and wait until she’s ready to talk knowing I’m just as concerned.

  “Should I have been more careful?”

  Confidence flows around Tamzin like fresh air, but sometimes throughout pregnancy her own insecurities have caught her off guard. She has nothing to worry about when it comes to her weight. Being a few weeks away from full term, it’s only just recently she’s out-grown her original clothes she was wearing before she got pregnant. It doesn’t matter if she’s the size she is now or two sizes bigger, I’ll still find her sexy because I love her. “No, I don’t. And I don’t think you’re fat, you’re hot as fuck and the mother of my child, whom you’re carrying.”

  “You won’t think that when I end up with wider hips and my boobs touch my knees.”

  “That won’t happen.”

  “It’s called the middle age spread for a reason, Noel.” She snaps, flashing her silver-grey eyes at me and causing my dick to twitch. If she’s not careful the only thing that will be spread will be her legs as I fuck her on the table to change her mood.

  I continue to eat my lunch and choose not to answer. I think back to the appointment with April. We haven’t really spoken about what Tamzin wants in terms of labour, and we need to be prepared. I need to be prepared, because the last thing I want to do when the time comes is run around the house like a headless fucking chicken packing her bag when I should be by her side. “You know, angel, we really do need to think about what happens when the baby comes.”

  “There’s nothing to think about, I lay back and push it out of my vagina while you sit there and watch.”

  I can’t help but laugh at her matter-of-fact statement but that wasn’t the answer I was hoping for. “True, but what I meant was—”

  “What if I die, Noel?”

  What the…

  “Where the hell did that come from?” I laugh, a little taken back by her comment and not knowing how to take it. “Is this because we’re going to Church and it’s churning up unwanted memories?”

  “I’m serious. High blood pressure can lead to complication. My mother died right after she had me. What if she had that and they didn’t know? What if I’m fine and then I’m not?”

  I swear the colour has drained from my face, if it hasn’t it sure as hell feels like it. I knew our earlier appointment was on her mind but I never thought it would lead to this. Why is she even thinking of this? Why are we even discussing this? My insides cramp as an ice-cold tremor washes through me at the thought of losing her. What would happen if I did lose her? What would I do? How would I cope?

  I wouldn’t.

  I can’t lose either of them but there’s only one of her. My heart begins to race.

  Jesus why am I even thinking about it?

  I immediately want to be closer to her and shift on the seat between us, clearing my throat to forget what is running in my mind so I can reassure her. “Your mother died because her heart was weaker than the Doctors knew and it was too late to do anything about it. We’re twenty-seven years ahead of that time now and the medical world is far greater and more advanced than back then. Besides, you’ve been checked and your heart is perfect. April said we have nothing to worry about just yet so stop thinking something is going to happen, you’re making yourself stress for no reason.” I kiss her head to try and reassure her, only I feel it’s myself that needs the reassurance as my skin feels like it’s on fire and my heart is pounding like hell. “You are not going to die.”

  “You don’t know that. Will you still look after our baby if I die?”

  “For fuck sake, Tamzin, it’s our child of course I will. But I won’t be doing it on my own because you are going to be doing it with me. Stop. Stressing.”

  “It’s in my nature,” she grins and a part of me is glad her mood has changed and she’s now finding this amusing. I on the other hand feel nauseous, this is something that has never come to my attention before because the doctors said she was low risk, but the more she’s going on about it the more she’s freaking me the fuck out, and she knows it. She places her hand on my jaw and looks me straight in the eye. “What if I end up paralysed and need around the clock care; you’ll wish I’d have died then.”

  Jesus Christ. “Can you please stop saying the word die?”

  She kisses me on the lips with a smile. I’m needing the conversation to be change but I’m still wanting to stay on the subject of the baby. “What about a water birth?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “I might drown and die.”

  “Tamzin, seriously.”

  She pulls back with a laugh. “Okay, I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

  Tamzin.

  The ice-cold ball in the pit of my stomach is sickening, and my chest feels so tight I have to exhale slowly in order to catch my breath. It’s dark, a sign of evening frost in the air as the yellow hue from the church lights illuminate the large stain-glass windows. The churchyard gardens are buzzing with parents and local residents, whilst the school children and the girls from Ruby’s class walk single-file into the church in pretty winter coats and carrying lanterns. I’m immediately taken back to my childhood, to those Christmases where I was one of those girls and my Grandparents had stood where I am now waiting to step inside. They’d looked so proud as they’d watched me standing with my class in my evening dress and patent shoes, singing from the top of my lungs whilst my gran dabbed her eyes with her soft cotton handkerchief. My heart hurts for them. I miss them so much it’s unbearable at times. I don’t think anyone understands just how hard this is for me, not even Noel. The first time I visited their grave to rest flowers was two years ago when life suddenly hit me on the arse and I finally began to accept that they were gone. The last time I stepped inside this church was when I laid them both to rest—seven years ago. That year had started out happy, only for it to end with
two funerals in a matter of weeks and one shattered heart. I was alone, broken and completely on my own. The memories may fade from time to time but the pain never goes. I’m still angry. I’m still hurting, but I’m also aware that I’m here tonight for a completely different reason and that’s what I have to hold on to. I can’t let my pain and heartache over shadow a five-year-old girl who’s just as excited as I was at that age. I have to be strong for her.

  Without a word, I link my hand in Noel’s, looking straight ahead. I’ve not spoken a word in over an hour, nor has he asked if I’m all right. He knows not to. If he even questions or looks at me with those concerning eyes, he knows I will break. Instead, he turns himself slightly, places his free hand on my jaw and kisses my temple. “We’re in this together, angel,” he whispers, making my lip quiver and my eyes glass.

  As we start to walk towards the doors, my legs don’t feel like they belong to me. My heart thunders against my rib cage and the voices around me become a blur. The only thing I get myself to focus on is the movement of tiny fingers and toes in my stomach, tickling me on the inside as if our baby is telling me that I’ll be all right. My five minutes of panic the other day over dying hasn’t played on my mind since. The words that April spoke I’ve tried not to dwell on because as soon as I think of them I’m reminded that everything is all right when I feel movement inside. I know my body and I know my baby.