A Cottage by the Sea

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A Cottage by the Sea Page 29

by Carole Matthews


  There’s a secluded area of sand between the rocks. I lay the blanket down between them, sheltering us from what little breeze there is. I set the alarm on my phone and lie down. Noah kicks off his trainers and he’s down next to me, propped up on his elbow. I realise that I’m still wearing Ella’s mother’s shoes, so I kick those off too. Before we go to the hospital I must freshen up.

  On the blanket we’re close together, face to face.

  ‘This is nice,’ I say.

  ‘Perhaps I should go home too, Grace,’ Noah suggests. ‘It’s making life awkward for you if I hang around.’

  ‘I don’t want to spoil your relationship with Flick,’ I say.

  But I can’t help it is what remains unsaid. Noah and I are constantly being thrown together and I’m doing nothing to fight it.

  ‘There’s no relationship with Flick,’ he says. ‘I think we’ve both come to realise that.’

  ‘She said she loves you.’

  ‘I think she wants to love me.’ He shrugs. ‘She wants to believe that this is what she’s looking for, but we’re completely different people. We’d drive each other mad.’

  ‘Opposites can attract.’

  ‘That’s true.’ He traces circles in the sand with his finger. ‘But not for me. This week has only served to show our differences. I want someone who shares my values, my interests. Flick and I move in very different circles. There’s no future for us. Plus,’ he hesitates before he continues, ‘I might just be imagining things, but sometimes I think I’m not the only one in Flick’s life. I get the impression that there’s someone else in the background.’

  ‘Really?’

  I don’t like to say that he could well be right. My dear friend Flick doesn’t exactly have the best track record for fidelity.

  ‘You know the type of thing. Secret phone calls. Texts that she hides. Not since we’ve been here, obviously. I just get the impression that she’s keeping something from me.’

  ‘That’s just Flick. She likes to be mysterious.’

  ‘Maybe. But I think she’s still searching for what she wants and I don’t think that it’s me. You can’t force love, Grace. We both know that.’ He gazes deep into my eyes and it’s not cheesy. The honesty of it is searing. ‘And sometimes you can’t stop it even if you want to.’

  ‘I don’t want you to go,’ I say, mouth dry.

  ‘Then I’ll stay.’

  We inch closer together on the blanket until our knees are touching.

  ‘Go to sleep,’ he says. ‘I’ll watch over you.’

  I close my eyes, feeling the sun on my face and the strength of Noah’s presence next to me, and, within seconds, sleep has found me.

  Chapter Sixty-Two

  The next thing I know is that Noah is shaking my arm gently. ‘Grace, wake up,’ he says. ‘We’re late.’

  That brings me out of sleep abruptly. ‘What?’

  ‘I didn’t hear the alarm on your phone, but we should have left for the hospital about half an hour ago. We must have both gone into a really deep sleep.’

  ‘Wow.’

  I try to shake myself into an alert state. Reluctantly, I force myself to sit up. My head spins. If anything, I feel worse for the rest. I had clearly gone down, down, down into dreamland and now feel slightly dazed by the shock of being awake.

  ‘Oh no.’ Noah looks at me in alarm. ‘Oh no.’

  ‘What?’ Panic runs through me. ‘What is it?’

  Then he starts to laugh. He doubles up on the blanket and guffaws.

  ‘Stop it. Tell me what’s wrong.’

  When he’s brought himself under control again, he says, ‘Your face.’

  ‘What about it?’

  ‘Half of it is bright red,’ he tells me, smothering another laugh. ‘The other half of it isn’t.’

  ‘You’re kidding me.’ I touch my cheeks. He’s right. One of them is certainly burning much more than the other. Then I look up at Noah and I start to laugh too.

  ‘What?’ he says. ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘Your face. It’s the same.’

  Now his hand goes to his cheek. It’s bright red too.

  Where we’ve fallen asleep on our sides, face to face in the sun, we’ve been burned to a crisp. When I glance down, I see that my left arm and leg are the same. Noah has a coordinating right arm and leg. Though the skin on his body is already tanned from working outdoors, it’s more difficult to tell. With me, who’s used to being cooped up in an office all day, it’s not the same. My limbs are the worst possible shade of Brit-abroad lobster and I fear that my face is no better.

  ‘They’ll know,’ I say. ‘They’ll know that we fell asleep in the sun together.’

  ‘There’s no crime in that, Grace.’

  It will make them even more suspicious of us, though. I’m sure that Flick has had enough flings of her own to be able to put two and two together.

  ‘You’ve made it clear that you want us to be nothing more than friends.’ For a moment, he looks sad when he says, ‘I can live with that.’

  But can I?

  We look at each other again and both get a fit of the giggles.

  ‘Don’t laugh,’ I chide. ‘This is bad!’

  I can’t wait to get to a mirror and see what I look like. I’ll have to put make-up on, lots of it. By the time I’m fifty I’ll probably have skin like a leather purse because of this.

  ‘Do you feel better for the rest?’ Noah asks.

  ‘Not a lot. I still feel woozy. But it was nice, anyway.’ Before we can get into more dangerous territory, I say, ‘We’d better go and pick Ella up. She’ll be wondering where we are.’

  Noah nods and I fold up the blanket. We’re halfway through our week here already and I feel that time is running out for Noah and me. Circumstances have meant that we have been able to slip away from the others with relative ease, to engineer little moments together. That won’t be the case once the holiday ends. The only time I’ll ever see Noah again is if he’s with Flick as her boyfriend, or even her husband.

  I watch him, heart aching, as he goes about the very ordinary business of slipping on his trainers. He might say now that he sees no future for Flick and himself, but he shouldn’t underestimate her determination. My friend has an uncanny knack of getting exactly what she wants.

  Chapter Sixty-Three

  Ella is waiting in the main reception when Noah and I bowl in. ‘You’ve not been here long, have you?’

  She shakes her head. ‘Five minutes.’

  ‘Noah and I fell asleep on the beach,’ I explain. ‘We were snoozing so deeply that even the alarm didn’t wake us. We’re much later than we wanted to be.’

  ‘You were up half the night with me,’ she points out. ‘I can’t begrudge you a little catch-up nap.’

  Now I feel better for having a few hours of sleep, even if one side of me is probably more chargrilled than the other. I also had a quick shower and changed and, apart from the burned and scarlet bits, am almost human again.

  ‘Oh my goodness.’ Ella stifles a laugh as she looks at me more closely. ‘You’ve certainly caught the sun. Did you forget the sunblock?’ Then she sees Noah and the stifling fails. ‘Oh,’ she chuckles, ‘you’re exactly the same.’

  Is it that obvious? I was hoping that my heavy hand with the foundation had disguised the worst of it. Clearly it hasn’t. Damn.

  I glance down to check that her bump is still in place. ‘Everything all right with the baby?’

  The expression of relief on her face is palpable. ‘Yes. I’ve been given the all-clear and a stern talking-to,’ she says. Ella pats her tummy fondly. ‘Now I have to make sure that I put this little lady first.’

  ‘It’s a girl?’

  ‘One of the few benefits of an emergency visit to the hospital is that I now know that I have to buy pink baby clothes.’

  ‘That’s wonderful,’ I say. ‘Every cloud has a silver lining. A little girl!’ I feel like doing a happy dance round Reception.

  �
�I know.’ Ella is glowing. ‘It all seems very real now.’

  It’s not only for Ella that it seems more real now. I can’t wait to go shopping with her for baby clothes. And then, from nowhere, for the first time in my life, my heart twists with an overwhelming longing for a child of my own. It’s a deep pull of need stronger than anything I’ve felt before, right down to my core, and it almost takes my breath away. I want a small, chubby body cuddled in my arms. I want the scent of milk and baby powder in my life. I want this fierce, protective sensation that’s enveloping me to have a focus.

  ‘Congratulations, Ella.’ Noah comes forward to hug and kiss her.

  ‘Thanks. I’m just so thrilled.’ She looks beyond us. ‘Where’s Art?’

  Noah and I go from the joy of a second ago to exchanging an anxious look.

  Ella’s face falls and tears spring to her eyes. ‘He’s not coming, is he?’

  Now it’s my turn to shake my head. ‘No,’ I say flatly. There’s no point beating about the bush. I know that Ella will want it straight. ‘He’s gone back to London, Ella.’

  She rocks back, a little unsteady on her feet. Noah catches her under the elbow and holds her. ‘Wow.’

  ‘He’ll feel differently when you’ve had time to talk,’ I assure her. ‘Really, he will.’

  What’s the saying, ‘Hurt me with the truth rather than comfort me with a lie’? I brush the thought aside. I just hope that Art will come to his senses and embrace fatherhood. It will be such a crying shame if he doesn’t.

  ‘It’s a big shock for him. It’ll take time.’

  ‘Did he have anything to say at all?’

  ‘Not really,’ I admit. Nothing that Ella doesn’t already know. ‘But perhaps I didn’t break it to him in the best way.’

  ‘I should have done that.’

  ‘Circumstances overtook you, Ella. Don’t beat yourself up about it.’

  ‘I knew he’d be like this,’ she says. ‘I just knew.’

  ‘Let’s get you to the car,’ Noah says. ‘The sooner you’re back at the cottage the better. You can put your feet up and we can look after you. Do you need a wheelchair?’

  ‘No,’ Ella says. ‘I’m fine.’

  ‘We’re parked quite near the entrance. It’s not far.’

  He keeps hold of her elbow as he steers her towards the Range Rover. Her steps are hesitant and she looks so frail that my heart goes out to her. I’m going to do all that I can to make sure that the rest of this pregnancy goes without a hitch, that Ella is blooming with health.

  ‘You’re very kind, Noah,’ she says as we reach the car. ‘I’m sorry that you’ve been thrown into all our problems. This was supposed to be a holiday for you, a chance for Flick to show you off.’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ Noah says. ‘I feel as if you’re all old friends already.’ He looks squarely at me when he says, ‘Whatever happens, I’m glad that I came.’

  ‘Good.’ Ella pats his hand. ‘You’re a lovely man. I’m very jealous of Flick.’

  ‘I wouldn’t be,’ he says softly.

  But Ella is already climbing into the car and I’m the only one who hears him.

  Chapter Sixty-Four

  It doesn’t take us long to get back to the cottage. I make Ella tea and toast, which she eats with relish. Sometimes it is the best comfort food. Noah disappears to have a walk on the beach, leaving us to our own devices. When she’s finished I escort Ella upstairs and, while she undresses, I run her a hot bath. She comes into the bathroom in her dressing gown.

  ‘There’s lots of lovely bubbles in there,’ I tell her. ‘You have a good long soak.’

  ‘Thanks,’ she says. ‘I can’t wait to get in here. I smell of hospital.’

  I fix a clean towel for her, draping it on the warm rail. ‘Does it feel funny to have a new life growing inside you?’

  Ella nods. ‘Who’d have thought it would come to this when we were working in the bar together in Liverpool?’

  ‘Life has taken us to some strange places.’

  ‘I feel as if I’m starting a whole new phase,’ Ella says. ‘Part of me is excited. And part of me is just plain terrified.’

  ‘You’ll be fine. I’m sure every expectant mother feels the same.’

  ‘It feels as if I’m having to be a proper grown-up for the first time in my life,’ she confesses. ‘Once Baby Hawley is born I won’t ever be able to just close the door or go out when I want to. I won’t be able to lock myself in the studio and paint all day if the mood takes me and not worry about eating or cleaning the house. I’ll have someone else who’ll rely on me.’

  ‘And you’ll rise beautifully to the challenge.’

  ‘I want to stay here, Grace.’ She looks round at the solid stone walls. ‘Here in Cwtch Cottage, but how can I? Art’s right when he says it’s in the middle of nowhere. Will it be a safe place for me and the baby?’

  ‘You’re less likely to get mugged in the wilds of Pembrokeshire than you are in Notting Hill.’

  I try to make light of it. Being here this week has made me realise that this area really is the byword for remote. If Art doesn’t come back, will Ella be able to stay here? Shouldn’t she be nearer to clinics and shops and civilisation in general? But then out of the window I catch a glimpse of the beach and think it would be the most idyllic place on earth to bring up a child.

  ‘I don’t want to go through this alone.’

  ‘You’ve got me and Flick.’

  ‘But no father for my child.’ Her face is sad and tears fill her eyes. ‘No grandparents for her to play with. I always wanted to give my child a stable, happy family. The kind of worry-free childhood that I had.’

  ‘Times have changed,’ I offer. Tragic though that is. ‘Very few marriages go the distance. We all have different arrangements that we call family now.’ I think of Harry’s two boys, who are the closest I’ve had to sons. ‘It doesn’t make them less than they were. Just different. You’ll find a way of making it work.’

  ‘I should go and call Art. Try to explain to him why it all happened like this.’

  ‘Give him a couple of days to mull things over. I don’t want you getting stressed again right now. Take some time to recover and get your strength back. These shocks take their toll.’

  She sighs. ‘You’re probably right.’

  ‘I’m always right,’ I tease.

  ‘Art’s a great man,’ she says. ‘I’m just saddened that this isn’t what he wants. I suppose I hoped that when he found out about the baby, he’d be as thrilled as I am. I was worried about how he’d react, but in my heart I didn’t really believe that he’d just walk away.’

  ‘Don’t dwell on it now,’ I urge. ‘There’ll be time enough for talking in the next few months. He might surprise you yet.’

  ‘He might do,’ she concedes. ‘Still, enough about me. What about you?’ She strokes the hair from my face. ‘Something tells me that not all is well in the Taylor household. There’s a lot of tension between you and Harry.’

  ‘Tell me about it.’ I puff out a ragged breath. ‘I feel pulled in a dozen different directions.’

  Ella puts her hand on my arm. ‘Noah’s a lovely man, Grace,’ she says. ‘You seem to get on very well together.’

  ‘Yes.’ I try to keep my voice neutral. ‘We do.’

  ‘Very well,’ she reiterates.

  I flop down heavily on the loo seat and Ella sits on the edge of the bath. She takes my hand.

  ‘What am I to do, Ella?’ The last thing I want to do is burden my friend as she’s got so much on her plate already. ‘Harry and I are really struggling in our marriage. I feel like we’re worlds apart.’

  ‘And Noah?’

  ‘I like him,’ I admit. ‘More than that.’ Much more than that. ‘He’s kept me sane this week.’ While at the same time driving me to distraction. Funny how love can be. ‘But he’s Flick’s boyfriend. She wants to marry him.’ I don’t add that while Flick might be crazy for Noah, I don’t think that the feeling is mutual.r />
  ‘Flick wouldn’t think twice if she was in your shoes,’ Ella points out.

  ‘That doesn’t make it right,’ I counter.

  Ella suddenly looks shifty and I don’t know why. ‘You told me that when it comes to the baby I have to do what’s right for me. I could say the same to you about your marriage, Grace. Will you take your own advice?’

 

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