The movement settled Helen’s scattered thoughts, allowing her to process the ideas that were now tearing through her previously tranquil mind.
Mum’s right, he can hardly snatch the children from my womb. There is plenty of time to find out what he’s after and head him off. She tried to put the text message out of her head, to concentrate on her family and enjoy the time with them. She longed to be able to talk it all through with Marcio. He would know what to do.
Chapter Four
She was sat by the fire with one of the cats curled up on her knees when the phone rang. Her first thought was that it was Daniel, and she shivered, despite the flames flickering only three feet away. Her mum went to answer it and came back with the handset. Her demeanour reassured Helen that it was Marcio on the phone, and she took the handset willingly.
“How has your day been, gorgeous one?”
Helen felt her face relax at the sound of Marcio’s voice. He sounded happy and she didn’t know whether to spoil his day by telling him about the text message from Daniel. On the other hand, if she concealed it from him he might jump to all the wrong conclusions if he found out later.
“It’s been mostly great.” She tried to keep her voice light.
“What’s happened?” Marcio was instantly alert, his voice sharp. Helen once more marvelled at how intuitive he was.
“I had a text from Daniel this morning. Asking how the babies and I were.”
There was silence. Helen’s stomach twisted as she waited for his response. Eventually Marcio simply said, “Oh.”
Her heart dropped, but she tried to keep the conversation moving. “Oh indeed. Lord knows what he’s after. I got into a panic that he wants to take the babies away, but Mum has spent the day convincing me I’m nuts.”
“Of course you are,” Marcio said, a little too quickly. From what he knew of Daniel, nothing would surprise him. Daniel might have taken it into his head that he wanted an heir to inherit his business, or simply wanted control of something he considered his. Unlike Maggie, Marcio felt that Helen was right to be suspicious of Daniel’s motives. He didn’t want to cause her pain, so he concealed his fear as best he could. It surprised him how strongly he felt about Daniel wanting to take the children. My children.
“Whatever he’s after, we’ll handle him. So, what did Father Christmas bring you?” His voice was light, but Helen wasn’t fooled. She understood his intention and loved him for it. She told him all the gifts her family had bought for her and the twins, and listened while he did the same. They had agreed to swap their own presents when he came down to Devon in a couple of days.
“I do have one gift for you now though,” he said, his voice betraying a little-boy excitement. She could picture his face, eyes gleaming, dimples peeping through.
“Ooh, what is it,” she asked in her best girly voice. “Will I like it?”
“I hope so!”
“Where is it?” She looked around, as if someone was about to pop out and produce a neatly-wrapped gift.
“It’s not the kind of thing you can wrap.”
“Really?” she responded in a suggestive voice, glad her family had discretely left the room to give her some privacy.
“Now, now, you naughty girl, get your mind out the gutter!” He laughed.
“Go on, put me out my misery!”
“I sold my book.” He grinned and held the phone away from his ear while she screamed.
“Oh my god, that’s amazing! When, who, when did you find out? Tell me, tell me!”
“I found out a couple of weeks ago.”
“And you didn’t tell me? How did you keep that a secret?”
“With difficulty! But I wanted to understand all the terms and so on, and then I had the idea of waiting a couple more days, so I could tell you today, as a little gift. It’s good money, you see. Enough that we can get a place together. If you would like that?” His voice tailed off, suddenly hesitant. They had talked about moving in together, but they couldn’t afford anywhere big enough in London, even if they sold Helen’s flat. Neither of them relished the idea of moving to the suburbs. Marcio wasn’t sure how Helen would take to the idea of him funding the move, particularly not after Daniel. He knew she didn’t want to be dependent on a man again. He was suddenly worried that a crackly phone line was not the ideal time to have this discussion.
Helen took a few moments to analyse her reaction to his news, and his proposal. Had she known it, Marcio had exactly guessed her thoughts – she wanted to live with him, but didn’t like the idea of being beholden to him.
Before she could speak, he added, “Of course, you’ll have to pay rent, until you sell one of your photos for a fortune!”
She laughed, relieved that he understood her reluctance. “In which case, I get to choose which bedroom is mine!”
“Oh,” he said, in a little voice, “I sort of hoped you might sleep in my bed.”
“Really, what kind of landlord are you, to sleep with your tenants?” Her prim voice collapsed into giggles as the thought sunk in that they would be able to live together as a proper family. It really was the most amazing Christmas gift.
“It’s fantastic news, Marcio, and I think getting a place together will be amazing, as long as you understand we’ll have both names on the mortgage. I’ll pay my own way somehow.”
“I know you will. You’ll be looking after our babies; that will be payment enough.”
Our babies. Usually the phrase made her smile, but this time it echoed the words of Daniel’s text. The poor twins had gone from having no father to having two. With Helen caught in the middle.
Chapter Five
Helen was just tucking into a Boxing Day brunch of bacon and turkey sandwiches when someone knocked at the door. Looking up, expecting to see one of the neighbours who periodically popped round to wish the family season’s greetings, she suddenly leapt up and ran as quickly as she was able around the table. She threw herself into Marcio’s arms, nearly knocking him flat under the unexpected weight of her and the twins.
“Hello,” he said quietly into her hair, holding her tightly and breathing in her familiar smell.
“You’re not supposed to be here until tomorrow!”
“I know. But after our conversation yesterday I wanted to come and see you, make sure you weren’t thinking of running off with Daniel.”
“As if I would,” she murmured, kissing his cheek and nibbling his ear.
Aware of an expectant hush in the kitchen, Helen realised that Simon and her father were still sat at the table, while her mother was hovering in the doorway where she had stopped after opening the door for Marcio.
Embarrassed, she pulled away from him and turned to face her family saying, rather unnecessarily, “Everyone, this is Marcio.”
“We gathered that,” Simon said dryly, standing up with his hand outstretched.
Marcio grinned, and shook it warmly. “You must be Simon, lovely to meet you.”
“Likewise,” Simon said, although his reserved manner belied his words.
Marcio turned to address Helen’s father, who smiled more warmly as they shook hands. Any man that made his little girl so obviously happy was fine by him, even if he was a writer. He would have preferred someone a bit more useful with his hands, like a plumber or a farmer, but he would take this young man over that weasel Daniel who, as far as he could establish, made nothing except money and trouble.
Marcio had already introduced himself to Maggie when she opened the door, and she now came fully into the kitchen, saying, “You must be hungry Marcio, I don’t suppose they feed you much on a short flight from Spain.”
“I’m starving,” he admitted, “I had to be at the airport at 5am, and not much was open at that time on the morning after Christmas.”
“Not like here then, when all most people seem to do on Boxing Day is shop!” Helen’s father had views about shopping on Boxing Day. For him, it was a day to eat leftovers, watch war movies and try out his new slippers. No
w there were few animals on the farm he got to do those things without first having to go out to milk cows or feed pigs.
Marcio sat at the kitchen table as if he’d been living in the farmhouse all his life. Helen marvelled, not for the first time, at how relaxed he was in new situations. She thought he would be a little nervous at meeting her family, but he was soon chatting to her father like an old friend. Simon was proving a little more recalcitrant, playing out the protective brother routine. Helen sensed he was jealous of Marcio, and wondered if he would like to be as laid back. She knew Simon had to work hard to settle into new environments, and found it amazing that he lived in such a different culture as Abu Dhabi.
In the end it was Abu Dhabi that broke the ice between them. It turned out that one of Marcio’s sisters had been there as part of her gap year and soon they were swapping stories of what it was like there, particularly for a single female travelling through.
Helen sat back and watched Marcio at work. Her family were soon won over, and she wondered how many comparisons were being drawn with Daniel. In the two years they had been together he had come to Devon twice, and both times he had seemed uncomfortable, as if the slow pace of life shackled him in some way. He’d been frustrated by the lack of phone signal and had ridiculed the painfully slow dial-up internet that her parents had.
She supposed that Marcio’s mother’s vineyard was not dissimilar to the farmhouse, and realised that, despite the different countries, their parents had a fair amount in common. At least they’ll have something to talk about if we ever get married, she found herself thinking. Marriage was the one topic of conversation that seemed to be banned between them, but it was hard not to imagine Marcio as her husband, seeing him sat at the table she had sat at as a child. She had always dreamed of the perfect wedding, and had spent many a Sunday afternoon designing her wedding dress, sat at this very table, while her mother prepared lunch. Funny how the creation that Daniel picked was nothing like her childish drawings at all. She had longed for a dress that wasn’t white or ivory. If she hadn’t been cursed with copper hair she would have loved a red dress. In her mind she had settled for a deep blue, or something that shimmered green like the ocean.
“Isn’t that right, Helen,” she heard suddenly, and looked up to find four pairs of eyes looking expectantly at her.
“I’m sorry, I was daydreaming,” she confessed, hoping no-one asked her what about.
“I said we were going to start house-hunting in the New Year.”
“Yes, now Marcio has sold a book, we can afford a deposit.” She had told her parents about Marcio’s good news, but not about them getting a house together. She wanted them to meet him first.
She detected a glance of disappointment pass between her mother and father. She suspected they still cherished ideas of her moving down to Devon when the twins were born. However, they never stood in the way of her happiness, and were soon involved in a discussion about the exact requirements of a house that would have two young children in it.
“You’ll need a garden, and not too many stairs. And make sure you have a door on the kitchen, or they’ll be into everything!” Her mother’s voice was laced with experience, and Helen smiled at memories of being ushered out of the kitchen even as a teenager.
“Mum, it’s going to be nine months before they’ll even be crawling!”
“The time will go fast enough, believe me. Plan now, that’s what you need to do.”
“I’m not sure, even with my advance, that we’ll be able to afford something in London with a garden! Not if we make sure we’ve a spare room for when you want to come and visit.” Marcio was rewarded with a beaming smile from Maggie. She hadn’t wanted to suggest a spare room, knowing how much a three-bed house in London would cost, but she loved the idea of being able to stay without having to worry about hotel bills.
“We can make sure we’re near a park,” Helen said, “then we won’t have to worry about mowing the lawn!”
They stayed in Devon for a few days, and Helen loved how Marcio adapted himself to life at the farm. He helped feed the goats, hunted for eggs with her in the hen-house, and walked for miles over the fields. Since meeting they hadn’t had so much uninterrupted time together; it made Helen yearn for the future when they would wake up every morning in the same house, the same bed.
Her mind kept playing with the idea of them getting married. She wanted security for her and the twins, and more than anything she wanted to demonstrate to Marcio that she wasn’t going to leave him. However, she knew how much his experience with Mia had scarred him, and she couldn’t imagine him ever walking down the aisle again. She would have to settle for them finding a house together.
During their time in Devon they discussed the options for a house, and eventually agreed that, with the babies due in only a few weeks, they should rent somewhere first. It would help them find out what they wanted, and it would mean they could be together somewhere before the babies were born.
“We’ll have to look as soon as we get back to London,” Marcio said one day, while they were walking the dogs along the beach. “I’m renting anyway, and my lease is up in March. It’ll mean paying an extra month’s rent, if they can’t find someone else, but at least we’ll be able to bring the babies home together.”
“My place will let easily,” Helen mused, “So the mortgage will be covered. I can put it on the market too, then we’ll be ready to move when we do find somewhere.”
Much as she was enjoying their stay with her parents, she was also itching to get back to town, so they could get on with their lives. The only thing marring the happiness she felt was the nagging thought that she hadn’t heard anything more from Daniel. Knowing him as she did, she was aware the silence wouldn’t last for long if there was something on his mind.
Chapter Six
Helen looked up at the black door and felt the music pumping through the Georgian windows. She could feel the vibrations through her bump and hoped the babies didn’t mind. The party was clearly already in full swing and Helen wondered if it would be better just to turn around and leave.
“I’m so sorry I couldn’t decide what to wear. Now I’ve made us late,” Helen said, on the verge of tears, “I’m just so FAT.”
“You are not fat,” Marcio said for the eighth time, “And you look gorgeous. We are not late, it’s a New Year’s Eve party, and there are still,” he consulted his watch, “three hours until midnight.” Turning Helen to face him he kissed her gently and stroked her hair.
“I’m sorry,” she said again, “My hormones are raging. The babies are doing a highland fling and these…” She paused and breathed in deeply, as Rachel had shown them in the antenatal class. “These Braxton Hicks,” she resumed, when the mock contraction had passed, “are killing me! If these are fake contractions, I dread to think how much the real ones are going to hurt.”
“Remember what Rachel told you,” Marcio said, rubbing her lower back gently, “When you’re actually in labour you will be so focused you’ll be able to breeze through the early contractions. By which point,” he held up his hand to forestall what she was about to say, “By which point we will be in a hospital and you will be able to have as many drugs as you want.”
“You’re an angel. Just you make sure you hold tight to that promise. I. Want. Drugs. None of that natural birthing for me, thank you!”
“That’s my brave girl!” Marcio said teasingly. He didn’t mind, it was her body, if she wanted an epidural that was fine by him. He’d seen too many movies of men having their hands squeezed by screaming women to know he didn’t want to go through that. Not that he would mind his own pain, but he couldn’t imagine watching Helen suffer, even if it was all as nature had intended.
“Remind me again whose party this is,” Marcio asked as they waited on the doorstep.
“One of my baby group. You remember Karen? She’s married to a guy called Michael.”
“Which ones were they?”
“Michael hasn�
��t been to the antenatal classes, he’s always working. She comes with her sister Pauline. Karen works in advertising, Michael’s a lawyer.”
“That would explain the fancy address.” Marcio looked up at the building, mentally comparing it with his tiny place.
“Hush, they’re nice people, well Karen is at any rate, I haven’t met Michael.” The antenatal group met for coffee when they could, so Helen knew her better than Marcio did. Karen had invited the whole baby group to her party, although Helen was privately surprised they were even having a party, with twins on the way. Karen was a few weeks behind Helen though, so she perhaps had more energy.
Inside the house, the music reverberated off the white walls and wooden floors.
“The kids are moshing!” Helen said loudly, grimacing at a particularly violent kick to her kidneys.
“Let’s take refuge in the kitchen!” Marcio yelled back, leading Helen towards a door that seemed to lead in the right direction.
It was only marginally quieter in the kitchen, as the door was propped ajar. He located drinks for them, and found Helen a chair to perch on.
It was difficult to talk, even in the kitchen, so they remained in companionable silence, watching the people milling around, eavesdropping on conversations.
They had been there about twenty minutes, and Helen was studying a shelf of books on the wall, a favourite pastime when she visited someone’s house, when a man wandered into the kitchen and glanced over to where they were sitting.
Baby Blues and Wedding Shoes Page 25
