She nodded.
‘Good. I’m glad. It must mean something, Francesca, if you told him. You never plucked up the courage to tell your husband, did you?’
She shook her head. ‘I was going to but I never did. I don’t know what he would have made of it. I don’t like to say this, but he wasn’t very patient with ill-health or disabled people. He was never rude but not particularly patient. I think I knew that it would never work, James coming to live with us, and maybe that’s why I didn’t tell him because I couldn’t have borne it if he had said no. It’s different with Gareth. Gareth understands.’
Izzy peeped out from their cave. ‘Look, it was just a flash in the pan. It’s clearing up already. Come on, we’ll get ourselves back.’
‘Go with your instincts,’ Izzy told her on the return trip, tramping across the damp field. ‘It’s no earthly use asking me. It’s what you feel that matters. If he’s the one for you then go for it. Don’t start analyzing it too much because that never works. Heart over head that’s what you have to do.’
‘Like buying a house? I knew I wanted to buy the house as soon as Gareth told me it was for sale. It was mad, impulsive, stupid, all of that but I just went ahead and bought it.’
Izzy glanced at her. ‘Do you want to know a secret?’
‘A good one?’
‘Yes. So far as I’m concerned anyway. Alan will take a little winning round, but …’ she hesitated. ‘I’m pregnant.’
‘Again?’
‘Yes and don’t say it like that. It’s only just happened, but I always know well in advance. Perhaps it will be a boy this time, but if it isn’t, it doesn’t matter. Of course it will put my plans back a little because I don’t want to start the course whilst I’m pregnant but who cares?’
‘I’m happy for you if that’s what you want.’ Francesca smiled at her. ‘Perhaps I might be able to help out a bit now that we don’t live so far apart. Babysitting and stuff.’
‘Thanks. Vicky will be horrified, of course. She’s at that age when she thinks it is positively disgusting that her parents might still be having sex. And don’t say anything to Alan, not yet.’
‘Of course I won’t.’
And she would not.
The two of them were good at keeping secrets.
They were nearly back at the cottage and they could see Alan beginning to load up the car.
‘I’ll leave you to it,’ Francesca told her as they gave each other a goodbye hug.
‘Keep in touch.’
‘You bet.’
She left them to walk over to Gareth’s caravan where he was waiting for her.
‘Where have you been?’ he said, rushing down the little steps. ‘I was getting worried about you out in that weather.’
And that was part of it, she thought, as she followed him inside.
You only worried about somebody when you loved them.
James was due home any minute and Francesca was in a panic.
It was early September and there was a hint of autumn chill in the air so Francesca had lit a fire in the sitting room and the radiators were on everywhere else so it was nice and warm. She remembered how hot it always was in his previous place so she did not want him to be cold.
‘They’re here.’ She heard her voice rise. ‘Show them where to park, Gareth.’
And off he went, smiling at her nervousness, having tried all morning to calm her down.
What if James doesn’t like it?
What if he doesn’t remember it at all?
Worse, what if he still doesn’t remember her?
The worries had kept her awake all night and, at the last she had dug Gareth in the ribs and woken him up and they had gone down to the kitchen and sat a while drinking hot chocolate.
Outside, in the back yard, the car drew to a halt and, standing on the step, Francesca watched as the passenger door opened and James slowly emerged, yawning, scratching his red hair – their mother’s hair – and stretching his long limbs followed by the nurse and the driver. Francesca could have driven over herself and collected them but she wanted to be here to welcome them.
‘All right, darling?’ Gareth was at her side. He took her hand, squeezed it, and whispered that he loved her.
‘I know,’ she said, giving him a smile but she was distracted for now she had to concentrate all her efforts on getting this right. She stepped forward and for a minute, she was unable to move, just like before, rooted to the spot. He was so big, lumbering, just a little stooped, and he was dressed like an old man with a shirt and tie, pressed trousers and a neat old fashioned cardigan that no man of James’s age would be seen dead in.
‘We’ll take him shopping.’ Gareth said quietly at her side. ‘We’ll kit him out in something more appropriate. Get him some jeans for one.’
She nodded, reflecting that already they could read each other’s minds.
‘Look, James, there she is.’ The nurse said as he stood looking round. ‘There’s Francesca. Do you remember me telling you about her?’
The nurse smiled at them, putting a hand on James’s arms and turning him a little so that they were facing each other.
‘I can’t do this,’ Francesca said, seeing him, a man with a little boy’s mind, knowing that she was responsible for it.
‘Yes you can.’ With a little encouraging push from Gareth, she went forward on jelly legs.
‘Welcome home, James. Do you remember Lilac House?’ she asked, feeling foolish to be asking such a question of him for she didn’t know quite how his mind worked these days. To her surprise, James nodded, staring at the house before holding out his hand for her to shake but, even as she took hold of it, she saw a sudden sharp recognition in his eyes and he pulled her to him in a bear hug holding her close. Perhaps it was seeing her here at the house that changed everything. Seeing her here, even though she was much changed, helped him to pinpoint just who she was.
‘Frankie,’ he said in a delighted voice before turning to the nurse. ‘She’s my big sister.’
It took all her strength not to dissolve at that moment and even the emotionally hardened nurse was finding it hard to hold onto her composure.
‘It’s been a long time,’ Francesca whispered to him. ‘How are you, James?’
‘I don’t know. How am I?’ he looked to the nurse.
‘You’re fine,’ she said.
‘Come on, sweetheart,’ Francesca said, holding him at arm’s length and taking in his appearance, realizing that, for the foreseeable future, James was going to be the child she would never have. She would look after him for however long it took for by God she owed him that much. Turning, she saw Gareth standing waiting for them as she guided James through the door into the house.
By the Same Author
Eight Days at The New Grand
Olivia’s Garden
The Cuckoo’s Nest
Return to Rosemount
Emily’s Wedding
Family Secrets
A Perfect Mother
Rumours and Red Roses
Copyright
© Patricia Fawcett 2011
First published in Great Britain 2011
This edition 2013
ISBN 978 0 7198 0885 2 (epub)
ISBN 978 0 7198 0886 9 (mobi)
ISBN 978 0 7198 0887 6 (pdf)
ISBN 978 0 7090 9322 0 (print)
Robert Hale Limited
Clerkenwell House
Clerkenwell Green
London EC1R 0HT
www.halebooks.com
The right of Patricia Fawcett to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988
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Just Another Day Page 20
