A Year of Second Chances

by kendra Smith

  The branches of the passing trees are naked and damp from the melted snow. We pass some hedges. There is frost glittering on their lower branches, tucked away in the dark. I wonder about the little miracle that is tucked inside my womb also in the dark.

  I glance over at Daniel and notice he’s smiling to himself. I don’t think I’m kidding myself that we’ve formed a bond, am I? I’ve shared so many stories with him – all about Tyler and my life – well, not everything about my life – my biggest secret remains just that. And on many occasions, we’ve been silent, enjoying the times in the car. The takeaway coffees, the warm buttery aromas of our new guilty pleasure: Danish pastries, dropping flaky crumbs on our clothes and giggling as if we are eating forbidden fruit.

  We’ve pulled in. ‘Charlie?’ He’s staring at me curiously.

  ‘Can I ask you something?’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Well, why does Su— Ms Havilland pay for your transport?’

  My hands feel sticky. I really don’t want to tell him about my business transaction involving a baby. I’m quite sure he won’t approve and I don’t want to blow things with him just when – I struggle to know what I mean, but I would never want to lose what Daniel and I have, the camaraderie, how safe he makes me feel. Just, well, everything. I can’t define it, but it’s the first time ever I have felt like this with a man. Is it wrong to feel so safe? I can’t afford to lose the one man who seems so genuine in my life. A few more weeks keeping our world the same won’t hurt, will it? Till I really start to show? I’m terrified that this whole scheme scares him right off.

  ‘It’s up to Suzie, really, to explain.’ I shrug.

  Is it my imagination or does he seem a little bit nervous too?

  He frowns then quickly turns to smile at me. ‘Sure. Sorry. Shouldn’t have asked. Tell you what. How about we go for a drink and we can work out which quiz programmes we should go in for?’ he says. I’m so thankful that he’s changed the subject. He’s fiddling with the controls on the dashboard. Hang on, what did he just say?

  ‘Maybe I could take you out – you know, for a coffee,’ he continues ‘a drink, after the next lift – we can talk more about Tyler if you like?’

  I can feel an enormous blush starting. This Jude Law lookalike with the soft silky hands and killer smile actually wants to take me out – on his own, not as a job. I tuck some curls behind my ear and try to ignore the odd fluttering sensation in my stomach.

  ‘Yes, thank you. I mean, yes I’d like to.’ I turn to smile at him as we pull into my road.

  Daniel narrowly misses the old mattress on the wall; he seems jumpier than usual today.

  ‘See you tomorrow.’ I smile again as I turn toward the car door handle.

  ‘Charlie.’ His arm is on my sleeve and my heart stops as I turn around to look at him. The street lights are reflected in his eyes.

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Doesn’t matter.’ He smiles. ‘It can wait.’

  32

  Suzie

  It was a bitterly cold day. Suzie had told Rex she needed a few groceries and had popped out for some things, glad of a bit of fresh air. Rex was going cycling – it was Saturday afternoon, he always went cycling on a Saturday. It had been two weeks since their almighty row – and an uneasy truce had fallen between them. Rex had accepted the news, but was still wary. And extremely worried about the financial implications. She didn’t want to put any more obstacles in the way of her happiness, so was positively bending over backwards if he wanted to do things like cycle on a Saturday.

  Christmas was just over a week away and the shops were adorned with the usual festive offerings. A few of them even had sales starting. ‘Get Christmas wrapped up here!’ was displayed on a banner across a charity shop nearby. She was sitting in her car, finishing off the last of a takeaway coffee, when she sat bolt upright in her seat and stared across the street from the car park. It couldn’t be, could it? Maybe it was a striking resemblance?

  Suzie’s mouth felt dry and she suddenly shivered involuntarily.

  Across the road, she’d just seen Charlie walk into Chesterbrook’s only baby shop. Why was she in there? Why would she do that? It wasn’t her baby. It was almost as if she felt possessed by something, someone who was inside her body, fighting to be heard. Her heart was hammering in her chest. What was she doing in there?

  Getting out of the car, she slammed the door shut and started walking towards the shop. She could hear her high boots on the pavement, clip, clip, clip on the concrete. She could see her heavy breath as plumes of grey smoke billowed in front of her. She pulled her coat around her for warmth and stood staring through the shop window, her breath misting up the glass.

  There was a snow scene in the window. She was mesmerised by it. Tiny toy mice had been placed next to little Santas and they were holding minute ermine-trimmed stockings, under a white, pared-back Christmas tree made of twigs. There were baby clothes hanging from each branch: a pair of striped pink bootees, two tiny white mittens on another branch, a comforter, a toy rabbit, a Christmas bauble; at the base of the tree was a mass of cotton wool, covered in glitter where tiny knitted reindeer were perched, as if in snow.

  Suzie was in a trance, staring at the dreamy little snow scene. Only for her it was the beginning of a nightmare. She looked up and saw Charlie at the back of the shop. She wanted to go in, confront her, but what would that look like? Would it scare her off completely?

  She gulped. She couldn’t stand it any more. She abruptly turned from the shop, ran across the road as a car screeched at her. She opened her car door and slumped into the driver’s seat.

  She rested her head on the back of the seat. Just recently, she’d been allowing herself to imagine the baby – sometimes she would be up at night and wonder what colour eyes it would have. What colour hair. They’d been given a second chance, their tiny seed of a baby, safely nestled in another woman’s womb. She closed her eyes.

  Her churning mind brought back painful memories of her IVF torture. How she used to dream of her babies then; fantasise about their tiny hands and faces, even when they were only the size of a pea; she felt such hope – believing her minute miracles would survive, and then the crash. The blood – or, somehow worse, the face of the sonographer as she lay on the bed with cold jelly on her tummy. I’m so sorry, I can’t seem to find a heartbeat…

  What if Charlie keeps my baby?

  *

  When she got home, Rex wasn’t there. Why did he spend quite so much time away? She was trying to be supportive, but it was beginning to really drive a wedge between them. Even so, she was doing her best not to let it show. The house was incredibly tense, when it should have been a magical time, shouldn’t it? She knew he was due to call the office on Monday, speak to HR about the terms again, about when he might go back. She desperately wanted to talk to him about the baby shop and Charlie.

  She glanced at the telltale sign of mud in the hall from bringing his bike through after his last ride… How many times had she asked him not to do that?

  She looked around the kitchen. Ramone’s day off. Rex clearly didn’t think that housework was his responsibility. He’d left two dirty coffee cups in the sink. How hard was it to wash them up? Her phone bleeped.

  It was a text from Charlie asking when she could have the next instalment of money. How would she do that? Now that Rex was suspended and Annie had told her she needed a ‘break’ they just couldn’t lay their hands on available cash.

  The front door opened and Rex stood there with his bike.

  ‘OK, OK, I’ll take it round the back,’ he said wearily when he caught her frowning.

  ‘No, it’s OK!’ She smiled. At least he’d taken his shoes off. She tried to smile again, but her face crumpled instead. ‘Darling, something happened,’ she said, her lip trembling.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ He looked at her as she hurriedly wiped her eyes and wondered what she looked like.

  ‘Hey, what’s the matter?’ Rex sat down next to
her on the sofa. She sat up and didn’t even care about his wet clothes on the sofa. She remembered the shop. Remembered Charlie.

  ‘She was holding a toy rabbit…’

  Rex lifted one of the silver cushions and gently placed it next to him.

  ‘Who was holding a rabbit, darling?’ He seemed very distracted.

  ‘Charlie.’

  ‘Why does that matter?’

  ‘It matters, Rex, because she is carrying our baby. She was in a shop. I saw her.’ Suzie turned to look at him. ‘I really needed to talk to you – you’ve been much longer than normal.’

  He got up and wandered into the kitchen.

  ‘Rex?’

  ‘I was spinning – with a mate,’ he shouted back at her.

  ‘Has it ever occurred to you that I might need you here?’ She just couldn’t help it.

  ‘No, you don’t.’ His voice was tense. She heard him flick the kettle on, then after a while he was back standing in front of her, with two coffees. ‘All you do all day since you were fired over that baby account—’

  ‘I was not fired! I’m taking a break.’

  ‘You sit and look at baby websites, buy things we can’t afford on baby websites, drool over maternity things. And you’re not even the one who is pregnant!’

  That hurt. ‘We can afford it, Rex, can’t we?’ She did feel terrible about losing her job – for the moment – for needing, as Annie had put it, time ‘while the account settles down’, which had been shorthand for while they placated the account holder and found a more suitable account manager for them.

  ‘No. We cannot afford it.’ Rex placed the two coffees on the table, then sat next to her. ‘My salary has been frozen for a few weeks while they investigate – you know that – and what with the loan for the kitchen we are still paying back because of those bloody interest rates we accepted at that kitchen company… Why did we do that?’ he sighed. ‘Then no, we just don’t have the money, Suzie, not right now. In fact, you need to tell Charlie that we can’t afford that next payment till about February. And you really need to stop buying stuff from those maternity websites.’ He waved at the paperwork on the table in front of him. ‘I saw the last invoice, sweetheart.’ He was trying so hard to be nice, but she felt wretched.

  ‘Well at least I’m not cycling, covered in clingy Lycra, all over the place having a midlife crisis!’

  ‘Look, Suzie,’ said Rex taking a deep breath and placing a hand on her arm. ‘I’m sorry. But nobody said this would be easy. Let’s try and be kind to each other. Remember what the counsellor said last time, when we, we…’

  ‘Go on, SAY IT! Lost the baby!!’ She was surprised by her renewed anger. She yanked his arm off her and marched over to the kitchen and started washing up, slamming cups down on the draining board.

  ‘Yes, but the counsellor told us to look after each other, because that was the only certain thing. Remember?’ He was behind her now. He gripped the tops of her arms. ‘Suzie,’ he said, turning her around to face him, ‘this is no different.’ He released his grip and rubbed the top of her arms. ‘There is no certainty here – and you might just push Charlie over the edge if you – I don’t know – stalk her.’

  I was not stalking her, she wanted to scream as she looked in Rex’s eyes. He let go of her arms and held her hands in his and smiled at her.

  ‘C’mon, babe. Hey, where’s your watch?’

  ‘Being fixed at the repair shop.’ It was amazing how easy it was to lie. She daren’t tell him she’d sold it on eBay to be able to make up the shortfall on the previous instalment for Charlie.

  He nodded. ‘I’m going to take a shower. And, Suzie?’ he said dropping her hands, ‘let’s stop fighting, shall we? There is a baby on the way – and, well, I don’t know how we will manage to pay Charlie, but there’s no going back now.’ He smiled at her, but somehow it didn’t filter up to his eyes. The gap, she realised as she watched him striding away, should have just closed between them – but somehow it seemed wider than ever.

  33

  Charlie

  Daniel pushes open the door to the pub. The smell of smoke from the fire mixed with the spicy mulled wine and beer combine to make a heady Christmassy scent as we step in. I take a deep breath and let the warm air envelop me like a blanket.

  Some of the nausea has passed; a few weeks ago, I’d never have been able to set foot in here. There are tiny yellow fairy lights above the bar (and a piece of mistletoe), the wooden tables are surrounded by mismatched chairs with ruby red cushions, and on each table sits a white church candle and sprig of variegated holly with berries. The whole effect is warm and welcoming. A Christmas carol medley is playing softly in the background. Daniel’s heading for one of the squishy sofas at the back. He turns around after taking off his jacket to reach for mine.

  ‘What would you like to drink?’ he asks, carefully putting my coat on the back of a chair.

  ‘Just a lemonade, please.’ I smile. He heads to the bar. I want to forget about earlier, about what I’ve done. Those soft toys, the rabbit… Why had I gone in there? But that maternal surge of love has become overwhelming in the last few weeks. I can’t ignore the mix of emotions I’m feeling, probably the hormones, but I’m not stupid, I know there’s more to it than that. I sink down gratefully into the soft, comfy sofa.

  Daniel is sauntering back from the bar and it’s hard not to admire his tall frame, firm chest that I can make out beneath his shirt. I change my position on the soft leather sofa and sigh. His large belt buckle twinkles in the light. He slides into the leather sofa next to me and hands me my drink. He pulls his chin absent-mindedly with one hand and smiles at me. I’m aware of his musky, spicy aftershave.

  I smooth down my hair and take a sip of my drink. It’s all changed. The easy camaraderie has been replaced by You Are On A Date vibes.

  ‘You look different. Your hair looks, um, nice,’ he continues.

  I spent absolutely ages on my hair earlier, bought some expensive products online that I don’t normally buy. I’m touched he noticed. ‘Thank you.’ We seem to be doing small talk.

  Daniel sips his beer. I glance at his hands and look at the fourth finger on his left hand. Hadn’t he been married?

  He catches me looking and holds my gaze. ‘There used to be a wedding ring there, in case you’re wondering,’ he says softly tracing a circle with his finger.

  ‘What happened?’ He’s never really talked about all that, never opened up about past relationships. It’s something we’ve avoided talking about – both of us.

  ‘It was a long time ago, but sometimes it feels like yesterday that – that my wife died.’

  Oh my God. My throat catches. ‘I’m really sorry.’

  ‘Don’t be. It was a long, long time ago. I married pretty young. One day she went to work – and never came back.’

  ‘Never?’

  ‘An aneurysm in her brain.’ His eyes cloud over. ‘She was ten years older than me – we met at work. She was my mentor. She was in a serious relationship then with someone else, but when we met – the chemistry – you know?’

  I gulp. Yes, I do know. I stir my drink with the straw.

  ‘Anyway, things didn’t work out with her relationship and we’d become pretty close at work, lunches, meetings, spending a lot of time together; we knew each other inside out. We were married within six months in the village here. Everyone said the age gap wouldn’t work, but—’ He shrugs.

  I look at him and have an overwhelming urge to stroke his face.

  ‘She collapsed at work,’ he carries on, ‘and was taken to hospital by an ambulance, but by the time I got there…’

  ‘How awful.’ I instinctively reach out and touch his warm, soft hand where the wedding ring used to be; Dean Martin croons ‘I’m Dreaming of a White Christmas’ in the background. He doesn’t move his hand away.

  ‘The trouble is, I remember her complaining of headaches, migraines. I just used to think it was her coping mechanism. She was quite uptight a
nd we were in the middle of—’ He stops short. ‘Anyway, like I said, I was pretty young when she died – twenty-five – and I moved away – it was the best thing I ever did – miles away to Buenos Aires. I saw an advert for that charity, and well, there was nothing to keep me here. It was a bit impulsive, but I really couldn’t face the pity – do you know what I mean?’

  I nod.

  ‘Dawn was amazing in those early days. She looked after me like a sister. She’s a very generous woman. I have a lot of time for her.’

  ‘You never had kids?’ I imagine he’d be great with children. He’s never talked about any.

  He coughs as he swallows some beer. ‘No.’ He shakes his head. ‘It’s a long story – no, no we didn’t. Do you want another drink?’ he says quickly, draining his glass.

  ‘I’m fine.’ I’d better not. I look at him closely. At the way his tiny fronds of hair kiss his collar, at the way he’s going very slightly grey at the temples, at his close-shaven beard and angular jaw.

  When he gets back from the bar with a soft drink, I decide to ask another question. I’m curious.

  ‘Didn’t you settle down with anyone else, in South America?’

  He’s silent.

  ‘Sorry, I—’ I start to blurt out.

  ‘No, it’s fine. I like talking to you.’ He grins. My heart thuds in my chest. It’s exactly how I feel. I miss some of his reply and have to shake myself to pay attention. I take a sip of my drink. ‘Well, there was an English teacher, Elizabeth, from Yorkshire. She’d been there for eighteen months, teaching English as a Foreign Language, but it never really took off.’ He shrugs. ‘I suppose the chemistry wasn’t there. She was a bit of an English rose out there, didn’t fit in. I think she saw me as her passport to safety, to settling down. I just didn’t feel the same way – it was too soon after—’ As he says this I just can’t help being acutely aware of his thigh next to mine.