by Shari Low
Jessie’s words were lingering in my mind. Al was a great dad. Nate would be a great dad too. Jessie would give anything for another day with her husband, and yet here I was, squandering my time with Nate, avoiding him, bickering, putting off starting a family even though I knew that he so desperately wanted one.
Maybe it was time to stop frittering away our time and start appreciating it instead. I climbed onto the couch beside him, wound my body around his and laid my head on his chest. If he was surprised, he managed to cover it up well.
‘Rough night?’ he asked, stroking my hair.
‘A lovely couple. Been together their whole lives. He hasn’t got long. Their family arrives tomorrow, but I didn’t want to leave her alone until she’d fallen asleep. My heart was breaking for them.’
At work I stayed calm and professional, but I’d always been able to tell Nate how I really felt.
‘Made me think though…’ I hesitated, wanting to be sure, checking that this wasn’t just a human reaction to a sad situation. No. I wanted this.
‘I think maybe I’m ready to start a family.’
His hand stopped and he leaned up on one elbow, his face just inches from mine. ‘Are you sure?’
I nodded. ‘I’m sure.’ I was. Why waste more time? Why not close down the fear? There was absolutely no reason at all for me to stall any longer. Nate and I were already a family, and now it was time to grow until we got to where Jessie and Al had been, in our seventies and still making the most of every day, with absolutely no regrets.
Nate didn’t say any more. Instead, he pulled my top up and started to kiss my stomach, working his way from my belly button upwards to my ribcage, to my…
I blamed the twelve-hour shifts for the fact that I was asleep before he got any further.
Chapter Seven
Friday Night on the Town
November 2005
‘I meant to say, Richard told me to tell you all he said “hi”,’ Chloe announced, as soon as the restaurant manager sat us at our table.
‘Aw, tell him we still miss him. Did you see him or were you just chatting to him on the phone?’
‘I had lunch with him. He was up for the day for some seminar over at the Southern General. We had a quick catch-up.’
‘How’s he doing?’ I asked, flicking a napkin on to my knee.
‘Great. He’s met someone – a gynaecologist called Charlotte and he’s been seeing her for a few months. They seem happy. He’s saying it’s nothing serious, but I don’t know if I believe him. He had a bit of a twinkle in his eye.’
That made me laugh. Richard always had a twinkle in his eye. It was what made him great company to be around.
‘Any regrets that you didn’t give things a try with him?’ Sasha asked, blunt as ever.
Chloe shook her head. ‘None at all. Especially now.’ She beamed just a little as she said that. It was still in the early stages, but she’d started seeing Danny, the guy who’d moved into the flat upstairs from hers. He was single, solvent, good company and the head chef in the restaurant we were sitting in right now. It had become our regular hang-out destination on a Friday night, although, like tonight, we’d come late so that Danny could join us when the kitchen quieted down.
‘Nate, you heard anything from Justin today?’ Sasha asked.
‘Nothing. I called him a couple of times at work but he didn’t get back to me. Why? Is everything okay?’
Sasha took a large gulp from the gin and tonic the waitress had just put in front of her before answering, ‘Who knows? Who bloody knows whether everything is okay with Justin or not.’
It wasn’t a question.
‘Has something happened?’ Chloe asked.
Sasha shrugged. ‘I cooked him dinner for our anniversary last night – twelve years since we met – and he bailed. When he got home he said he’d been out for beers with the guys from work. I don’t know… Just felt like something was off.’
It took me a moment to get past Sasha cooking a romantic anniversary dinner. That wasn’t her style at all.
‘You know what he’s like Sasha…’ I said gently. The truth was, none of this was a newsflash or out of character.
Justin was… just being Justin. He was one of my favourite people in the world, and I adored him, but there was no getting away from the fact that he drank too much. Always had. And for a long time now it had been at a level that most would consider a serious issue. I’d tried to talk to him about it a couple of times, but he’d shut me down, with absolutely no room for discussion, so I’d backed off. I didn’t want to cause a rift, or alienate him. Instead, I just let him know that I’d always be there for him if he wanted to talk about it.
Sasha took a different approach. Somewhere along the line she had decided that it was just one flaw in an otherwise perfect package. She’d tried to rein him in and sometimes it worked and he’d stay relatively sober for a few weeks or months. This clearly wasn’t one of those weeks, but Sasha refused to accept that he had a problem. He functioned, he held down a job that he was great at, he played five-a-side football every Thursday night, he and Nate went to the gym most days – that, she insisted, wasn’t the behaviour of someone who had alcohol issues. He was just a normal guy who liked to enjoy himself.
We’d talked about it countless times over the years and Sasha’s answer was always the same. He was just a good-time guy. Liked to live it up. And sure, that came with situations like this, but on the other hand, he was the guy that everyone wanted at the party.
‘I do know what he’s like,’ she answered. ‘But sometimes he takes it too far. This is one of those times. In fact, this is one of those years. He’s fallen out with his mum and dad. Not that they were ever particularly interested in him. But he got wrecked at his Aunt Lily’s funeral and his dad went crazy. They ended up rolling about on the ground after the wake. His dad’s always had a temper and they’ve never been close, but still, not his finest moment.’
There was general astonishment around the table. This was the first we’d heard about the fall-out. Justin was always Mr Party and Sasha hated getting deep and gloomy so she hadn’t mentioned it either. It made me wonder what else she’d omitted to tell us, but I didn’t probe because I could see that even discussing this with us was setting her on edge. Sasha was guarded and she kept things to herself, but underneath that pissed-off exterior was a core of unswaying loyalty to her friends and to Justin.
The volume over by the door increased, drawing our attention and, of course – in perfect timing – there he was, hugging the restaurant manager and high-fiving one of the regular waiters.
‘Nothing like an understated entrance,’ Sasha drawled as he reached our table. Justin acted like she hadn’t spoken, and instead greeted Nate with an exuberant back slap and an ‘Alright mate?’
Nate’s face creased into a grin. Justin just had that effect on people. He was like the incorrigible child who made it impossible for anyone to stay angry with him.
He kissed Chloe on the cheek, then me, then went in for a full-scale smooch with Sasha, who visibly rebuffed him.
‘Oh come on, you can’t still be pissed off with me,’ he said, trying to cajole her out of her fury.
‘Of course I can. You’re a fricking nightmare,’ she retorted.
‘I am,’ he agreed. ‘But I’m the love of your life and I adore you, so let me make it up to you.’
Sasha raised a cynical eyebrow. ‘This had better be good.’
Justin’s confident swagger suggested it definitely was.
He reached into his jacket and pulled out an envelope. ‘I wanted to have these for you last night, but they got held up.’ He put the envelope down in front of her, and she eyed it with suspicion for a few moments before picking it up, opening it, removing the documents inside and reading them. Despite herself, a huge grin replaced her scowl.
‘Oh come on, put us out of our misery,’ I pleaded. Sasha turned the documents around. Two tickets, first-class, to New York. She then
flicked the itinerary open so we could see that too.
‘And a week at the Plaza,’ she said, saving us from trying to scrutinise the paperwork.
‘Happy anniversary, baby,’ Justin said, sitting down next to her and kissing her hard on the lips. Her hands curled around his neck as she returned the gesture.
My eyes met Chloe’s and she shrugged and smiled. How many times over the years had this happened? Fight. Make up. Fight. Make up. Fight. Make up. If it were my relationship, I’d find it all far too exhausting and, quite frankly, couldn’t be arsed with the drama.
There were more important things in life to worry about. Like… like… I tried to stop myself thinking about it, but it came flooding right into the forefront of my mind. Like… having a baby. Oh the irony. I’d put it off all those years and now the Gods of Conception were having a laugh at my expense by refusing to let me get pregnant. We’d been trying for over a year now and nothing. If one more person told me a year wasn’t long and I should stop stressing, I might punch them. Or get Sasha to punch them. Sometimes you had to utilise your friends’ strengths and areas of expertise.
I reached for Nate’s hand under the table and he automatically folded my fingers into his. I knew so many couples whose relationships cracked under the strain of trying and failing to conceive, but for now at least, it was still having the positive effect of bringing us closer together. We finally had a common goal, a shared mission, and his positivity and unfailing support every month made me love him even more. This was when Nate was at his best. Wild crazy lust and excitement? Eh, nope. Solid, supportive, catch you when you fall, stand by you no matter what? Absolutely. And maybe I was just swayed by the high hopes and crashing disappointments of the last year, but it felt like as I got older, the second set of qualities had become far more important than the first.
Danny sent out a selection of delicious tapas from the kitchen, before joining us just after 11 p.m. Chloe visibly beamed the minute he appeared and I was happy for her. She deserved this. Not that she needed a man in her life to validate her, but she was definitely questioning herself right before she met Danny.
‘I mean, come on,’ she’d groaned, somewhere between the blind date with the narcissist and a misguided fling with an accountant she met while jogging in the park. ‘I’m nearly thirty-five and I’ve been in love once in my life. If you don’t count my devotion to Usher and a brief lusting for Seal.’
Cue a dropped set of keys, a chivalrous neighbour, and something that came fairly close to love at first sight.
Now he was sitting with his arm around her, matching smiles, their body language in perfect synchronicity. It just worked. Hallelujah!
‘Right, let’s get out of here,’ Justin said, tossing back a glass of Drambuie in one gulp.
‘I’m up for that,’ Danny agreed. Working in the hospitality trade, he was used to socialising in the early hours of the morning, when most people with 9-5 jobs were already headed to bed.
‘I’m off tomorrow, so count me in,’ Chloe chirped. ‘Where shall we go?’
‘Casino,’ Justin answered. ‘We can pick up a taxi outside.’
I didn’t even have to look at Nate to know what he was thinking, and I was bang on the same wavelength.
‘Sorry, guys, but I’m on back shift tomorrow, so we’re just going to head home.’ I was knackered and if it was a choice between partying until dawn or going home for a good night’s sleep, with the possibility of an intimate encounter with my husband, I was opting for the latter.
‘Are you sure?’ Sasha asked. ‘Och, come on, just for a little while.’
I shook my head, laughing. ‘Last time I came for “a little while” I blew a week’s worth of lunch and morning coffee money on the roulette table and spent the next seven days being way too familiar with the joys of the banana sandwich.’
I pulled on my jacket as we headed out the door, then hugged everyone goodbye when they flagged down a taxi. We strolled across to our car, on the other side of the road. I never drank if I was working the next day, so I came in handy as a designated driver.
Twenty minutes later, we were back in Weirbridge, and thirty minutes later, we were heading for bed. One a.m. I’d get a good ten hours; sheer luxury after the massive number of hours I’d been doing lately. Just for a change, the ward was still short-staffed and we were having to fill in the gaps, even when we were way over our standard hours for the week. There was no point complaining. The NHS underfunding and staffing issues were a fundamental issue that seemed impossible to solve. Thankfully I loved my job so that made the exhaustion and the lack of free time easier to bear.
‘I’ve got a really bad feeling that Sasha and Justin are on a collision course,’ I mused, as we stripped off for bed. And yes, he still folded his clothes, but it was one of those little irritations that I’d decided to let go. If that was the worst thing he did, then I really had nothing to complain about.
I pulled on a vest top and a pair of tartan pyjama bottoms. They were essential nightwear in the Scottish winter.
‘I hope not,’ Nate answered, but I could see he was concerned. ‘I’ve tried to talk to him a couple of times, but he just brushes everything off.’
‘Does he ever say if he’s happy?’
‘That’s a weird question,’ Nate answered. ‘What makes you ask that?’
I climbed under the covers first and shivered as the cold cotton touched my skin. ‘I don’t know, it’s just a feeling I’ve had for ages. Like there’s something beneath his behaviour, something not right.’
‘Maybe the fallout with his parents?’ Nate suggested.
I shook my head. ‘I don’t think so. I know he didn’t have the easiest childhood. He’s said before that he wasn’t close to his parents and that his dad was a real staunch disciplinarian. But this feels like it’s something that’s got worse over the years. Something I can’t put my finger on, something that’s making him unhappy, making him drink too much, party too much, live life on the edge.’
Nate’s arms wrapped around me, spooning, and I felt his breath on the back of my neck. ‘Have you asked Sasha?’
I nodded. ‘Yeah, but she says there’s nothing. I’m just not sure I believe that.’
Nate’s fingers found their way to my hair and he gently ran them through from root to tip. ‘I’ll try talking to him again and see if I can suss anything out,’ he promised. ‘But right now, I think you should stop thinking about other guys and concentrate on your husband,’ he joked, and the husky sexiness in his voice immediately turned me on.
His hand slipped down, under my vest, and at the same time his kisses made a trail from my ear, to my neck, to my shoulders.
There was absolutely no chance that I was going to get that ten hours sleep after all.
Chapter Eight
A Late Night in Hospital
August 2006
‘Oh my God, he’s got my nose!’ my mother screeched, fidgeting because she was desperate to hold him and I wasn’t ready to relinquish my skin-on-skin contact just yet.
I know it’s a terrible thing to admit, but I’d made Nate promise not to call her until after I delivered. That way, by the time it took her to get here, Nate and I would have some time to adore our new arrival. I’d pay for the fact that she wasn’t in the delivery room to witness Finn’s arrival until the end of time, but right now it felt like that would be a small price for the interlude of utter bliss we’d just shared.
We had our baby. Finn Jamieson. 7lbs 10oz. Born on 30th August. And utterly beautiful.
Nate had lain on the bed beside me, with Finn nestled on my chest, and we’d just stared at him, at his fingers, his face, his beautiful little mouth, his eyelids, closed as he slept. I wanted to just keep us there in that moment, keep him safe, protected, adored forever.
‘I’m so in awe of you right now,’ Nate had whispered to me, stroking his son’s face as he spoke.
I turned to him, kissed him, then kissed the top of Finn’s head. This was eve
rything.
‘I’m so glad you didn’t go,’ he whispered, and I could hear his words choking with emotion. I knew what he was referring to. Years ago, the dawn of the millennium, when I chose to stay with him rather than walk away. I couldn’t even bear the thought of the alternative now – of not being here, with my boy and with Nate by my side. I couldn’t imagine any other life would make me happier than I was right now.
We’d already been moved from the delivery suite to the maternity ward when Ida arrived and went into orbit.
‘And my mouth! Oh my God, he’s the spitting image of me.’
I was so glad I was in a room with two beds and the other one was empty, otherwise some poor, exhausted new mum would be getting treated to the full Ida experience.
She wrapped Nate in a hug, then leaned over and kissed me, gently pushing my hair back off my cheek. ‘My girl, with her own baby,’ she said wistfully. ‘I’m so proud of you.’ I had a little twinge of guilt that I’d delayed notifying her, right up until she added, ‘And so lucky only to have eight hours in labour. I was twenty-six hours with you. There are bits of me that were never the same again.’
I covered Finn’s ears. He’d have plenty of time to get used to his grandmother.
‘Right, time for granny cuddles,’ she said pointedly.
Reluctantly, I passed my sleeping son over, feeling a twinge of an ache as I did so. Was it always going to be this difficult to let him go?
Ida nestled him into her arms, and… sigh… of course she began to sing. She had form for this. She often boasted that she’d sung most of the younger members of our extended family into the world, and most of the older ones out of it.