One Night to Remember

by Kate Hardy

  He was older now. Wiser. He would handle things very differently if this turned out to be a crisis.

  But until he heard the magic words, he wasn’t taking anything for granted.

  ‘Are you all right, Harry?’ Holly asked.

  ‘I’m fine,’ he lied.

  ‘Just... I can’t feel my fingers.’

  ‘Sorry.’ He swallowed hard and forced himself to loosen his grip. ‘I’m just a bit nervous. Which is ridiculous, I know, because you’re the one actually carrying the baby and you’re—’

  ‘Harry,’ she said softly, ‘shut up.’

  And then she kissed him.

  It wasn’t a passionate, earthy, no-holds-barred kiss. It was sweet and gentle and reassuring. Letting him know that, whatever happened, it would be just fine in the end because they were both in this together.

  And for the first time Harry found himself starting to think that this was actually going to work out. Holly—his nerdy, practical, quiet archaeologist—made his world feel a better place simply because she was in it. She made him feel grounded.

  This was crazy. They barely knew each other. She didn’t even remember the night they’d spent together in Bath, thanks to her accident the day after. They’d been dating officially for all of three days. He couldn’t possibly feel this way about her.

  But just as she’d drawn his attention while he’d been playing the set at Bath, she drew him now. She made him feel centred.

  ‘Sorry.’ He kissed her back.

  ‘First-time dad?’ the woman next to them asked, an indulgent smile on her fact.

  No. Not that he wanted to discuss that now. ‘Yes,’ he said. It wasn’t a complete untruth. He and Rochelle hadn’t made it as far as this stage.

  ‘Don’t worry. The scan won’t hurt the baby, love, and it won’t hurt your wife.’ She patted her own bump. ‘This one’s our third. But my partner is still going to be here any minute now because nothing beats seeing your baby for the first time. It’s magical.’

  As if on cue, her partner arrived, but before she could introduce Harry and Holly to him, they were called into the ultrasound scan room.

  ‘This is it.’ Harry forced himself to hold Holly’s hand in a supportive way rather than clutching it for dear life, and walked with her into the dimly lit ultrasound suite.

  The sonographer talked them through the test; then Holly lay on the couch, lowered the waistband of her skirt and pulled up her top to expose the bump. The sonographer spread gel over Holly’s stomach, and pressed the head of the probe against her abdomen.

  And there, on the screen, was their baby.

  ‘Say hello to your baby, Mr and Mrs Weston,’ the sonographer said with a smile.

  Harry didn’t correct her that Holly was actually Dr Weston and he was Mr Moran. All he could see was a black and white screen, the baby’s head and the curved spine.

  ‘That’s just one baby,’ the sonographer said, then she took some measurements. ‘When was your last menstrual period, Mrs Weston?’

  Holly told her.

  The sonographer smiled. ‘Wonderful. It all ties up nicely with the measurements. You’re fifteen weeks, so the baby is due at the end of February.’

  Harry still couldn’t speak. He just stared in wonder at the image on the screen.

  ‘There are ten fingers and ten toes,’ the sonographer continued. ‘The heart is beating nice and strongly. I can’t see anything that worries me at this stage, but I’ll measure the fluid at the back of the baby’s neck as part of the screening test.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Holly said.

  She squeezed Harry’s hand, and he realised he was meant to speak. ‘Sorry. Thank you,’ he mumbled. ‘Sorry. I’m just...’

  ‘The first time they see the baby blows most dads away,’ the sonographer said kindly. ‘Would you both like a photograph?’

  ‘Yes, please,’ he said. ‘Our baby. I just...’ He shook his head, as if barely able to believe what he was seeing. ‘Our baby.’

  * * *

  Harry actually had tears in his eyes, Holly realised, and her heart melted. She smiled at him. ‘It’s pretty amazing.’

  ‘Fifteen weeks. So the baby is about the size of an apple, lanugo is covering the baby’s skin, and they can hear your voice.’

  The sonographer grinned. ‘It sounds as if someone’s been doing some bedtime reading, then.’

  ‘A little bit,’ Harry admitted.

  When Holly had found out that she was pregnant, she’d been so sure that the baby’s father wouldn’t be in the slightest bit interested. From Harry’s reaction just now, she knew that he was very much going to be a hands-on parent. They were in this together. She squeezed his hand again. ‘That’s good.’

  The sonographer finished doing the measurements, printed out two photographs, and then Holly wiped off the gel and restored order to her clothes.

  Harry couldn’t stop looking at the photograph. ‘Our baby,’ he said again, his gorgeous blue eyes wide with wonder. Would their baby have his eyes? she wondered. What would their baby inherit from each of them? And she loved the idea that maybe they’d grow together as a family, see bits of themselves reflected in their child.

  They headed for Trafalgar Square and through the National Gallery, discovering that their tastes in art were similar. After a quick lunch, they took their seats in St Martin’s Church, and Holly thoroughly enjoyed the Mozart piano trios. Afterwards, Harry introduced her to his friends the performers, calling her his partner; it sent a weird little thrill through her veins.

  ‘Are you going back to Beauchamp this afternoon?’ he asked.

  ‘This evening. I want to see my mum first, and show her the picture of the baby,’ Holly said. She looked at him. Was this rushing things too much? Then again, she and Simon had taken things really slowly and that hadn’t worked out. Maybe she needed to be less cautious and do the opposite. ‘If you don’t have to rush off anywhere, then you’re welcome to come with me.’

  ‘I’d like that. And maybe I can drive you back to Beauchamp.’

  ‘Thanks, but I’d rather have my car handy.’

  ‘Then, if you don’t mind giving me a lift, I’ll get the train back from Cambridge tomorrow.’ He paused. ‘Right now, I want to tell the world about you and our baby, but I’ll be guided by you on this.’

  ‘We’ve been dating officially for all of three days,’ she pointed out.

  ‘We would’ve been dating for three months by now,’ he countered, ‘if things had gone according to our original plan.’

  She looked at him. ‘So you intend to be in this for the long haul?’

  ‘We’re still getting to know each other, and I made a mess of my marriage, so I don’t want to make a promise and let you down,’ he said, ‘but whatever happens between you and me I intend to support you through pregnancy. And I’ll be a hands-on dad.’

  ‘You work away a lot,’ she said. ‘You can’t be hands on from a distance.’

  ‘As hands on as I can,’ he amended. ‘But, yes. If your parents want to know, my intentions towards you are entirely honourable. We’re both capable of sorting out the complicated stuff between us, even if it takes a little time.’ He kissed her lightly. ‘I don’t think either of us expected this. But we’ll make it work.’

  ‘It scares the hell out of me,’ she admitted. ‘I knew Simon for years. I thought we were fine. And it all went wrong.’

  ‘Whereas we’ve done everything the wrong way round,’ he said. ‘So maybe this time it’ll go right.’

  How could she explain that she was punching so far above her weight, being with him? She hadn’t been enough for Simon, and he was a dull accountant. How could she possibly be enough for an award-winning musician who led an incredibly glamorous life crisis-crossing the globe?

  To her horror, she realised she’d spoken some of it aloud, beca
use Harry raised an eyebrow.

  ‘Let me unpick this for you. Firstly, your ex doesn’t sound like a very nice guy, so don’t look at yourself through his eyes. Secondly, my life isn’t that glamorous. Although I dress up for a performance, there’s a lot of time spent travelling, checking lighting and seating, waiting around, and practising scales. Thirdly, I never get distracted when I’m working, with the exception of Bath—so there’s something about you that’s special. The more time I spend with you, the more I like you. So stop worrying about whether you’re enough, because you are.’

  It brought a lump in her throat, to the point where she couldn’t answer.

  He kissed her again. ‘If it makes you feel any better, I’m pretty nervous about meeting your mum. In her shoes, I’d want to know exactly why this gadabout, flaky guy made my daughter pregnant and deserted her.’

  ‘I didn’t remember anything about you and you didn’t have enough information to get in touch with me,’ she reminded him. ‘So it’s not quite desertion.’

  ‘It is, if you think about it. I could’ve tried to search for you on social media.’

  ‘I would’ve hated that,’ she said. ‘So I’m glad you didn’t.’

  ‘Even so. I’m meeting your mum for the first time, and I can’t possibly go without flowers—seriously nice flowers,’ he said, and insisted on stopping at a florist’s on the way back to Camden.

  * * *

  Ginny Weston was delighted by the flowers, but even more so by the way Harry behaved towards her younger daughter. ‘The way he looks at you—Simon never looked at you like that,’ she said quietly to Holly in the kitchen.

  Holly flushed. ‘Mum!’

  ‘I know, I know. It’s early days, and you’ve both got the baby to think about—and he must still be coming to terms with the fact that he’s going to be a dad. But the way he looks at you... That’s exactly how I want your partner to look at you,’ she said. ‘If he hadn’t taken your number down wrong, he would’ve been there at your bedside the whole time while you were in hospital.’

  ‘No, he wouldn’t. He was working the next day.’

  ‘I have a feeling he would’ve made some alternative arrangements to make sure he was there by your side,’ Ginny said. ‘I like him.’

  They stopped long enough that Harry ended up meeting Holly’s father and sister, too. And Natalie, who had texted to ask about the scan and dropped in on her way home from work. So it was much, much later than Holly had intended by the time they got to Beauchamp.

  ‘You’ve been a hit with my family and my best friend,’ she said. She swallowed hard. ‘But although yours seem to like me in my professional capacity—’

  ‘—they’ll love you as my partner and the mother of my child,’ Harry finished. ‘Ellen and Dominic are lovely. My parents are difficult, yes, but you might already have worked out for yourself that the trick to dealing with them is to ignore whatever they say.’ He paused. ‘Granny Beckett would’ve asked you a lot of questions. And then she would’ve smiled and given you the biggest hug.’ He smiled. ‘So don’t worry. My family and closest friends will approve of you.’

  Just for a second, there was something in his expression that she couldn’t read. What wasn’t he telling her?

  ‘It’s your choice,’ he said, squeezing her hand. ‘You can drop me here outside Nell’s and we’ll tell her tomorrow if you want to get some rest. Or we can tell her now, if you’re going to lie awake worrying about it all night.’

  ‘I wasn’t a worrier until the hormones started,’ she said.

  ‘Are they going to keep you awake tonight?’

  She nodded ruefully.

  ‘Then let’s face the music tonight,’ he said, ‘because you need to rest properly.’

  He held her hand all the way down the garden path, and he was still holding her hand when his sister answered the door.

  ‘Harry! We weren’t expecting you tonight.’ Then Ellen noticed him holding hands with Holly. ‘Oh. Nice to see you, too, Holly.’

  ‘Can we come in?’ Harry asked.

  ‘Of course. I’ll put the kettle on.’ She smiled at them. ‘I wish I’d known you were going to call in tonight. George and Alice are asleep and they’ll be so upset to have missed you.’

  ‘They’ll see me tomorrow, if you don’t mind me scrounging a bed,’ Harry said.

  ‘Of course not.’ She rolled her eyes at him. ‘You know we always have room for you.’

  ‘I have news,’ Harry said, and proceeded to tell Ellen everything.

  Holly’s breathing grew more and more shallow, and adrenaline rather than blood seem to be flowing through her veins.

  But when Harry had finished, Ellen just grinned and hugged her. ‘Well, obviously it’s all a big surprise and it’s a bit complicated—but I’m so pleased for you both and I really hope you’ve got a scan picture of my niece-or nephew-to-be, because I’m dying to see it!’

  And from that moment on it was all easy. Ellen persuaded Harry to video-call Dominic and Sally and explain it to them, and they seemed just as pleased as Ellen and Tristan were.

  ‘One thing, though,’ Sally said. ‘If you two decide to get married, you really need to have “Don’t You Forget About Me” as your first dance.’

  ‘Or anything from Radiohead’s Amnesiac,’ Dominic chipped in.

  Harry groaned. ‘This one is going to run and run, isn’t it?’

  ‘Absolutely. Oh, and you need forget-me-nots in your bouquet. Welcome to the family, Holly,’ Dominic said. ‘So when are you telling the parents, Harry?’

  ‘Tomorrow,’ Harry said.

  ‘If they say anything vile, Holly, just ignore them,’ Dominic said. ‘And be assured that we’ll all have your back when Harry’s not here.’

  ‘So you don’t all think I’m...’ Holly’s voice faded.

  ‘We think,’ Ellen said, ‘you’re sensible, you’re lovely, the kids adore you, and you’re perfect for our baby brother.’

  * * *

  The Viscount and Viscountess were too taken aback to say anything rude when Harry told them the news the next morning. And Harry forwarded a slew of texts from the rest of the quartet to Holly, saying they were looking forward to meeting Harry’s mysterious Lady in Red at last. The fact that he’d clearly talked about her to his closes friends, even when he hadn’t known who she was, reassured her.

  Although Harry had to head off on Thursday, he called Holly every single day, texted her snippets about what new developments their baby would have that week, sent her a photograph of the gorgeous hotel where the quartet we are playing on the Saturday, and picked her up on Sunday to take her to lunch at Lucy and Carina’s so she could meet his closest friends and colleagues.

  ‘This is just brilliant,’ Lucy said, hugging her warmly. ‘I’m so glad he’s met someone like you.’

  ‘The woman who forgot him the very next day?’ Holly asked wryly.

  ‘That wasn’t your fault. What were you supposed to do, let that idiot drive straight into a little boy? Actually, I think you were really brave, scooping him up like that.’

  ‘Instinct,’ Holly said. ‘Anyone would’ve done the same.’

  ‘Actually, a lot of people wouldn’t have had the nerve.’ Lucy tucked her arm through Holly’s. ‘Right. Let’s get you a drink, a decent seat, and something to eat. Do you play an instrument at all?’

  ‘I’m sorry, no. I just listen to music.’

  ‘Don’t apologise.’ Lucy smiled brightly.

  Was it her imagination, Holly wondered, or did Lucy look relieved?

  ‘Though Harry taught me to do a round of “Frère Jacques” at the piano with his niece and nephew. And he got me to sing—you know, the bit in Truly Madly Deeply.’

  ‘I love that film. It makes me cry buckets,’ Lucy said. ‘But if you’re encouraging him to play the cello like a guitar...’
<
br />   Holly bit her lip, remembering what Harry had said about how his colleagues viewed that style of playing. ‘Sorry.’

  Lucy chuckled. ‘I’m teasing. Our Harry doesn’t need encouragement. Actually, I’ve seen a huge difference him over the last week—a difference that makes us all very happy—and it’s all thanks to you.’

  * * *

  The next couple of weeks were more of the same: seeing Harry in London on Sundays and on the occasional evening if he could get down to Beauchamp.

  ‘You’re my Sunday girl,’ he teased, the evening when they were curled up together on his sofa, and hummed the middle section of Blondie’s ‘Sunday Girl’.

  ‘If you start playing that on the cello, the quartet will have my guts for garters,’ she said with a grin.

  ‘Are you kidding? They adore you.’ He paused.

  Her heart skipped a beat. Was he going to say he adored her, too?

  ‘Holly, I...’ Then he stopped.

  What was holding him back? Worry that she didn’t feel the same?

  ‘I don’t want to rush you,’ he said, ‘but I can’t help myself. I apologise in advance. But I...’ He rolled his eyes. ‘Sorry. I’m usually good with words.’

  But not when it came to emotional stuff? Maybe it would help if she said it first. ‘You’re adorable,’ she said. Though she wasn’t going to say the L word. It was too soon. Though she knew she was falling harder for Harry with every day that passed.

  ‘That’s how I feel about you, too,’ he said, as if she’d spoken her thoughts aloud. ‘Do you have to go home tonight?’