by Rosanna Ley
Unless of course, she wanted to say, what they all believed was true. Unless Tonino’s grandfather really had succumbed to temptation … Unless her grandfather and all the others were right all along. But that wasn’t the best plan.
Because he was walking towards the door. Walking out of her life, she realised.
He turned at the doorway. ‘I knew my grandfather,’ he said. ‘He was a good man.’
Tess felt humbled. There was nothing more she could say.
‘Now do you see why love is impossible between us?’ he asked her. He opened the door. He wasn’t waiting for an answer.
Love, she thought. Love? Only four letters. But a big, big word.
Who’d said anything about love …?
CHAPTER 45
The band arrived to set up at 7.30. They were due to play from 8.15 till 9.30, then after a short break, on till eleven. Brian had put up posters and already there were a dozen people in the bar. While they were doing the sound check, Dark and Bemused glanced over towards Ginny and she smiled. Despite the Ball’s best efforts at being a wet blanket, she had been looking forward to tonight. She couldn’t help it.
‘Looks promising,’ said Brian, rubbing his hands together. ‘Bring it on.’
Magic Fingers, the band were called. Yes, bring it on, thought Ginny.
By 8.15, the number of people in the bar had doubled and by nine the place was humming. Brian’s girlfriend Chantal was also working behind the bar. She had a high-pitched laugh, a retro blonde beehive and talked a lot, but seemed kind and capable. ‘I’ve been working behind a bar for fifteen years, love,’ she told Ginny. ‘What I don’t know now, I never will.’
Ginny was busy – distracted only by an occasional shy glance from Dark and Bemused on bass – so she didn’t have too much of a chance to think about The Thing that was bothering her. The Ball had been having a field day with it all week, but tonight she’d decided to bury her head in the sand. Shame she couldn’t bury the Ball at the same time …
Magic Fingers segued smoothly from a song called ‘Blue’ – ‘written by Albie,’ the blonde lead singer said; it took Ginny a few seconds to realise that Albie was Dark and Bemused on bass. Albie … It was a good song. Soulful. Ginny would like to hear it again – without the accompaniment of a list of orders from some guy at the bar and the rattle of loose change and Brian yelling ‘Speak up, love’, by her left shoulder.
They segued into ‘Yellow’ by Coldplay. Look at the stars … Ginny shivered, even though it was getting hot in here. Shit, she thought. It would be such bad luck.
At 9.30 in their break, the boys ordered beers, which, Brian said, were on the house. The success of the evening had made him unusually generous, Ginny thought. And it was true that the band had transformed the Bull and Bear. The place was buzzing. And Ginny – once she’d mastered the drinks and the till and the pumps – was loving it. As she’d told Brian in her interview, she was quick and it turned out she was good at the chat, the banter, the not letting them get too close or too clever.
‘Hey, gorgeous, what d’you reckon to our sound then?’ The blonde lead singer was coming on to her. ‘I’m Matt. Hi.’ He had a sexy grin and she guessed that he came on to most girls and probably had a 99 per cent success rate. She’d be one of the other 1 per cent she decided. He wasn’t her type.
‘You sound pretty good,’ she said, and then flashed a special smile at Dark and Bemused. ‘I loved your song,’ she said. ‘Blue. Great lyrics.’
‘The quiet ones always get the hottest chicks,’ grumbled Matt. But he didn’t have long to wait. In minutes he was surrounded by a sea of girls queuing up to talk to him, flashing painted eyes and deep cleavages his way.
‘Thanks,’ said Dark and Bemused. ‘What’s your name, by the way?’
‘Ginny.’ They touched hands over the bar.
‘Three pints of lager, love,’ yelled someone.
‘Two mojitos on crushed ice … ’ (Blimey, that was a bit upmarket for the Bull and Bear, thought Ginny, seeing Brian’s glazed expression as he struggled with the rum.)
‘Vodka and cranberry and a pint of bitter …’
Suffering snakes. ‘Sorry,’ she said to D & B. ‘Got to—’
‘Maybe later,’ he mouthed and she nodded.
Ginny turned and found herself face to face with Becca.
‘Hey!’ Becca’s grin was huge. ‘What’re you doing here, Gins?’
Ginny felt ridiculously pleased to see her. ‘My new job,’ she said. ‘Where’s Harry?’
Becca pointed. He was with one of his mates, both drinking pints like they were water, beer splashing down their clothes and on to the floor.
Becca rolled her eyes. ‘Some sort of drinking marathon,’ she said. ‘It’s pathetic.’
‘Take a break for ten minutes, love.’ Brian was breathing down her neck. ‘Go and talk to your mate.’
The band was back on and the people at the bar had thinned. Ginny slipped round to the front and hugged Becca. She wanted to say, I’ve missed you, but held back. Becca was the one who had dropped her when she took up with Harry. Becca was the one who couldn’t be bothered to answer texts or hang out anymore.
‘I’ve missed you,’ said Becca. ‘Sorry I’ve been preoccupied.’ She looked towards Harry, as if trying to work out why.
Infatuated, more like, thought Ginny. ‘S’all right,’ she said.
‘How’re things?’
‘OK. I’m staying at Nonna’s at the min. Mum’s in Sicily.’ She pulled a face. You’d hardly know she wasn’t around though; she called or sent texts every night. Ginny reckoned they were communicating more than before she left.
‘And how’s Ben?’ Becca shouted in her ear.
God, but this band was LOUD … ‘We finished,’ Ginny shouted back. ‘It wasn’t going anywhere.’
Becca nodded in agreement. She’d always understood. Though where, Ginny wondered, had she wanted it to go? She hadn’t much enjoyed where it was in the first place. It wasn’t like she’d required any kind of declaration or commitment from Ben. She supposed she’d just wanted some sign that she wasn’t wasting her time. Because at the end of the day, she realised, although he had been her first, she had invested the virginity thing with a significance it didn’t really have. At the end of the day Ben had the right kind of looks, but he wasn’t very interesting.
She told Becca this.
Becca laughed and nodded. ‘Girlfriends are much more fun.’ She nudged Ginny in the ribs and Ginny felt a slight twinge. She must have winced because Becca moved closer.
‘What’s up?’
‘Nothing – bit of a stomach ache.’
‘What’s up – honest answer?’
That’s exactly what they used to say to each other. And suddenly Ginny wanted to confide in someone.
‘I’m a few weeks late,’ she said. ‘That’s all.’ That’s all – like it might not be the end of the world if she were pregnant. She felt the pressure from the Ball release slightly. But she did have a stomach ache – like she had constipation or something. Was that what being pregnant felt like?
‘What?’
Ginny repeated the information, yelling into Becca’s ear this time. Tell the entire pub, why don’t I, she thought.
‘Shit,’ said Becca. ‘I need a fag. Let’s go outside.’
‘Five.’ Brian signalled to Ginny. She nodded.
‘Have you done a test?’ Becca, always the practical one, asked as soon as they were outside. It was dark and cool after the high body-heat in the pub and her ears were ringing. Ginny hugged her arms around herself.
‘Nope.’ She hadn’t dared. The thought occurred to her – what would her mother say? Galloping guinea pigs, she’d go ballistic. ‘But I’ve got this feeling,’ she told Becca. ‘I don’t feel right. It feels like I might be.’ She groped in the pocket of her jeans and fished out a cigarette, though she didn’t really feel like smoking it.
‘Crap,’ said Becca. It was this way with words she had that
had made her such a great friend. ‘You’ve got to do a test. There’s no point just sitting around being negative … ’
Ha. ‘Hope it is,’ said Ginny and they both giggled. It was mad, but she couldn’t help it.
Becca nudged her. ‘You’ve got to be positive,’ she said.
‘I hope not,’ said Ginny and they giggled again. Ginny had to hold on to the wall she was laughing so much – it must be hysteria.
She glanced at her watch. ‘Gotta go back in,’ she said reluctantly. She stamped the cigarette out under her foot.
It was amazing, she thought, as she pushed her way through the crowd, how even the possibility of being pregnant – which was so bad, so impossible to contemplate – could become funny with Becca. And how having a good laugh could diminish the Ball’s power somehow, as if it thrived on misery.
After the band had done an encore, and Brian had gone down to the cellar to change the barrels one last time, they started packing up and the punters finished their drinks and began drifting away. Ginny cleared and wiped tables and loaded glasses on to the bar.
‘You went down a storm, boys,’ said Brian, handing over their cash. ‘Cheers.’
‘See you in two weeks then, guv,’ said Matt, winking at Ginny.
Two weeks, she thought. That was a long time.
‘What’s wrong with next Saturday?’ said Brian. ‘You saw ’em. They couldn’t get enough. You could be our resident band.’
‘Well, OK, cool.’ They all grinned at each other. Deal done.
Dark and Bemused came up to Ginny to say goodbye. “Maybe we can have a coffee sometime,’ he said.
‘Yeah,’ said Ginny. That was – if she wasn’t carrying another man’s child … Could she get into another relationship before she knew? Coffee was only coffee. But … She didn’t think so. So when he asked for her number she didn’t immediately whip out her mobile.
Becca and Harry were two of the last to leave. ‘I’ll call you tomorrow,’ Becca said and mouthed ‘Do the Test’ in such a scary, eyes-wide way that Ginny took a step backwards and collided with Brian who was stacking glasses.
‘Careful, love,’ he said, but when he handed over her money, he gave her an extra tenner, so she knew he was in a good mood. She pocketed it. That would pay for the pregnancy test …
She looked up in time to see Dark and Bemused about to walk out the door. Shit. It gave her a bad feeling. The Ball said no, but what the hell.
She hotfooted it across the room to give him her number. Cos he might not ask again.
CHAPTER 46
Ginny went into Boots three times the next day before she plucked up courage to buy the pregnancy kit. Even then, terrified she’d see someone she knew, she took the precaution of hiding the blue-and-white packet under a red flannel in the basket.
How stupid was she? She thought back to when this – if there was a this – had happened.
‘When were you last on?’ Ben had asked one of the last times when they were still together. He’d run out of condoms and had apparently only remembered this fact just as they reached a fairly crucial moment.
Ginny could hardly breathe. Sex had got better since that first time. A bit. She would discuss it with Becca, she decided. Perhaps there was something else she should be doing. Perhaps it was the Ball holding her back. Or perhaps, well, that was it – all there would ever be.
She tried to think back. ‘Er, two weeks ago,’ she told him. He didn’t even break rhythm. ‘Approximately.’
He exhaled loudly. And came. ‘That’s all right then,’ he said into her ear. ‘No worries.’
Yeah. Her own fault. Women had to take care of that sort of stuff. They were the ones who’d suffer the consequences. How could you rely on a bloke?
She thought of her mother in Sicily. She’d phoned again last night before work, done the usual parent small talk. ‘So … Tell me all the news. What have you been up to? How’s everything?’
Impossible questions. She wasn’t a newsreader with an autocue, she wasn’t going to tell her mother what she’d been up to (Oh, yes and I might have got myself pregnant; not sure yet, I’ll let you know when I’ve done the test) and everything was too big a subject to even contemplate.
Ginny had wanted to ask about the villa – she really had. She’d wanted to ask her mum how she was, and she’d even wanted to tell her she missed her. But she didn’t say any of these things. And when the call ended, she wanted to cry. Because everything was going wrong. Well, one thing in particular.
She walked back to Nonna and Pops’s, the blue-and-white packet stashed safely in her bag. It was raining now; some summer this was turning out to be. Bet it wasn’t raining in Sicily …
Nonna was making dough in the kitchen; the scent of it, sweet, oily and mellow filled the whole house with well-being. Yum. Ginny stopped to grab an almond biscuit on her way upstairs. Did being pregnant make you eat more? Well, you were eating for two … Shit.
She had half an hour before she was due at the Bull and Bear to help with lunches. Time enough.
In her bedroom she pulled the instructions out of the packet, read them once without digesting a word and then another twice to make sure she understood. Then she took the thing into the bathroom to pee over.
Now she just had to wait.
That was the hardest part. She washed her hands and examined her face in the mirror. No spots for a change – that was good. Though on the other hand, wasn’t clear skin another sign of pregnancy?
The doorbell went. She heard Nonna go to answer it. She could hear conversation. Surprise in Nonna’s voice; and another voice – a soft, lazy drawl. Something didn’t sound quite right. She looked at her watch and resisted checking the electronic panel. Please, don’t be a line …
She poked her breasts experimentally. They didn’t seem especially tender or swollen. That was a good sign, wasn’t it?
‘I suppose you’d better come in,’ she heard Nonna say. ‘She’s upstairs.’
Uh-oh. The Ball shimmered inside her. But who would it be? Becca? Ben?
‘Ginny, dear,’ Nonna called up the stairs.
‘Yes, Nonna?’ she called back, glancing at the blue panel, stalling for time.
‘Could you come down?’
Right. Brilliant. Spot on. ‘In a sec,’ she called back. ‘Can you just hang on while I—’ What? See if I’m pregnant …?
She checked her watch again. One more minute. It seemed to take an eternity to pass. She grimaced at herself in the mirror, tried to touch her nose with the tip of her tongue. How did people do that? Why would people do that?
Finally, she took a deep breath and looked at the little panel …
‘Ginny?’
Shit. ‘Coming.’
She took the steps two at a time and stood in the doorway of the lounge. Inside the room, a man of about forty was sitting in Nonna’s best armchair with the printed roses and lace antimacassars. He looked completely out of place. His hair was sun-bleached, untidy and greying and in one ear was a tiny silver-hooped earring. He was wearing faded jeans and a T-shirt with a picture of a goat on it. He looked vaguely familiar.
‘G’day,’ he said. He stood up. ‘So you’re Ginny?’
‘Yes.’ She looked at her grandmother.
‘My dear.’ Nonna looked very serious. ‘This will be a shock for you. It was a shock for me. You see … ’
The man stepped forwards. ‘Thing is, I’m your dad,’ he said. ‘Pleased to meet you at last, Ginny.’
CHAPTER 47
In all the times Ginny had thought about her father – during the love and the hate, the longing and the resentment, the desperation and the grief – she had never once imagined him turning up in Pridehaven. When she’d pictured them meeting – and she had, oh, yes, she had – it had always been Ginny who found him, visited him in Australia, took him by surprise, made him regret – deeply regret – what he’d once thrown away. Not to be melodramatic … But: her childhood, her life, her love. So now she was pretty m
uch gobsmacked. And, ‘Bloody hell’, was all she could say.
Her grandmother tutted. ‘It is the shock.’ She glared at him. ‘Turning up here like this, out of the sky … ’
‘Sorry.’ He addressed this to Ginny. ‘I had the other address. Tess’s address. That is, your mum’s address.’
‘How?’ asked Nonna.
‘She sent it to me a long time back, care of my sister in Newcastle.’ He smiled. ‘So I went to the house. I spoke to the woman next door.’
‘Lisa,’ said Ginny.
‘Lisa,’ he agreed.
‘And she gave you this address?’ Nonna sounded surprised. Ginny was surprised too – Lisa was normally very protective.
‘She did.’ He shrugged. ‘Although I might have misled her a bit.’
Nonna’s hands were on her hips. ‘What did you tell her – exactly?’
‘That I was an old friend.’ He caught Ginny’s eye and despite the fact that she was still in shock, she had to smile.
‘You could have called us,’ she said.
He spread his hands. They were brown and kind of weathered. They seemed like the sort of hands that were used to hard work, outdoor work. ‘If I’d phoned, you might have told me where to go.’
Ginny nodded. ‘I might.’ But no. Curiosity would have won out. She couldn’t help wanting to know more about him. Like her, he was tall and slim; like her, his cheekbones were prominent in his face. Like her, he had a wide mouth and his hair was blonde. It gave her a weird feeling, to see this man and to know …
‘Could I take you out to lunch?’ He was giving her a searching look too. She guessed that he was absorbing stuff about her just like she was about him. ‘I just want to talk. After that you can still tell me where to go.’
Ginny thought about it. She liked the way he spoke, the way he wasn’t putting pressure on her. She glanced at her grandmother who was giving nothing away. She guessed that if she told him to sod off, he’d just shrug and go on his way. But she didn’t want him to – not yet. She wanted to hear what he had to say.