When You Walked Back Into My Life

by Hilary Boyd

  ‘I’m pregnant.’

  The old lady’s eyes widened. ‘Pregnant?’ she asked, clearly not sure if she’d heard right.

  Flora nodded. ‘It’s very early days … but yes.’

  ‘That’s … marvellous. What a wonderful thing.’ She gave Flora such a loving smile that it brought tears to her eyes, making her suddenly long for her own mother. She wanted so badly to share this time with her, when she herself was becoming a parent.

  ‘It is wonderful.’

  She didn’t feel rested from her days off, just tearful and disorientated. The holiday had consisted of nothing but arguments about their future, interspersed with oases of sex, which acted as a temporary balm and only served to confuse her … She got to her feet. ‘I’d better get the lunch on. There’s a shepherd’s pie, do you fancy that?’

  ‘Not much.’

  As she reached the door she heard the old lady add softly, ‘I probably … won’t be here to see your baby.’

  Flora stopped and turned. They looked at each other across the quiet sitting room. The words ‘Don’t say that’ sprang to her lips, and died.

  *

  ‘My new best friend is determined to make me a star,’ Fin told her that night, his voice tinged with cynicism. ‘I think she sees a TV spin-off. Me as the new Bear Grylls. You know, leaping barefoot from icy peak to icy peak, beating off grizzlies, fearless and alone in the hostile wilderness … except for a ten-person camera crew of course. She was all over me like a rash.’

  ‘Why not? You’re better looking than Bear.’ Flora smiled. ‘You could do it. Did she say how much she might pay you?’

  ‘She said they never pay authors much up front unless they’re famous. They’d rather spend it on the marketing.’

  He handed Flora a bowl of Spaghetti Bolognese and a fork.

  ‘Thanks.’ She carried it over to the sofa. ‘What did she mean by not much?’

  ‘She didn’t say, she said she’d have to talk to my agent about it. Which I told her could prove tricky, seeing as I haven’t got one.’

  Fin picked up his own bowl of pasta. ‘She told me to get in touch with a guy called Jonathan. Said she’d put in a good word for me.’

  ‘That all sounds hopeful.’

  Fin sat down in the chair opposite her. He gave a theatrical sigh. ‘Does it? Seems like a lot of hard work that I won’t enjoy, for precious little reward, if you ask me. I mean, it’s flattering, and she’s promising the stars, but as Prue says, the chances of the book taking off and making me any money are pretty slim.’

  ‘You’ve talked to Prue about it?’

  ‘Yeah, I thought she’d know more about the whole publishing scene than we do.’

  ‘And she didn’t think it was even worth a try?’

  ‘She didn’t say that exactly, just pointed out how much time writing a book takes if you haven’t done it before … the downside of not earning much money.’

  They ate their supper in silence.

  ‘Uh … I’ve got something to confess, Flo …’ Fin looked nervous. ‘Don’t be angry with me … but I sort of mentioned the pregnancy thing.’

  ‘You told Prue?’

  ‘It just came out, when we were talking about the book. I’m really sorry.’

  Flora shrugged. ‘I’m glad she knows. How did she take it?’ She was relieved in a way that Fin had taken the burden of telling her sister from her. She thought that Prue would be happy for her, but she also knew that it would trigger a ton of nagging about how they would cope with a baby.

  Fin pursed his mouth. ‘She was a bit upset that you hadn’t told her yourself, but I said it was really early and you were worried something might happen. I suppose you could say she was cautiously pleased. She’s out tonight, but she said to go up first thing on Saturday.’

  ‘So what will you do about the book?’

  He shrugged. ‘To be honest Flo, it’s not my thing. I’m a mountain man. I need to be outdoors.’

  ‘But you haven’t even tried, or found out how much they might pay you. And even if this one doesn’t make much, it might lead to other books, and articles – things you could earn money from. The stuff you wrote before was good.’ She sighed, exasperated. ‘Fin, you’ve said it yourself, you might not be fit enough to be a professional climber any more. No one’s suggesting you give up climbing altogether, but you’ve got to start thinking of other things to do as well, just in case.’

  His face closed down. ‘Well thanks, Flora, thanks a bunch.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Like I’m not depressed enough without you rubbing it in.’

  ‘I’m not saying anything we haven’t said before.’

  ‘I don’t need reminding of it though, do I? Especially not from you, who should be on my side.’

  Frustrated by his lack of purpose, she was too tired to be conciliatory.

  ‘We’ve got to have an income.’

  He stood got up. ‘Christ! Like I don’t know that. You talk about me as if I’m on the scrap heap, that I should be grateful for any crumbs thrown my way.’ He slammed his bowl in the kitchen sink. ‘It’s this bloody pregnancy. We were fine before that. Now you’re permanently ill and neurotic. I can’t have a sensible conversation with you that doesn’t involve where we’re going to live and how I’m going to support you and the baby.’

  ‘That’s rich! You’re the one who’s always nagging me to make a decision about Inverness.’ Flora felt her body suddenly flush uncomfortably with heat. ‘You sit there all day, never lifting a finger, then as soon as you’re given a real opportunity – and a rare one at that, which could open up a whole new career for you – you dismiss it out of hand because you need to be “outdoors”?’

  ‘If it wasn’t for you, I’d have a job. I’d be in Scotland and living in luxury in my father’s house instead of crammed up here like a fucking sardine, waiting for your old lady to die. You conned me. You said it was OK that night. I never wanted a bloody baby in the first place.’

  There was a deadly silence. They stared at each other in horror.

  Flora was first to speak.

  ‘I think it would be a good idea if you did what you suggest. Go to Scotland and get a job if that’s what you want.’ Her mouth felt sour and ashy, as if she had swallowed dust.

  ‘I’ll go in the morning.’

  She got up, her limbs like water. Without looking at him, she went into the bathroom and was sick.

  *

  In the early hours of the morning she woke from her disturbed sleep to Fin climbing into bed next to her.

  ‘Flo … Flo.’

  She lay there, not replying.

  ‘Please, listen to me.’ He was propped up on his elbow in the half-light, his face looming over her. ‘What I said was unforgivable. I didn’t mean it. Of course I want the baby. I was just angry because you were reminding me, quite rightly, what a useless fuck I am. And I didn’t want to face it.’

  She felt no satisfaction in another of his endless apologies, just an overwhelming fear gnawing at the pit of her stomach.

  ‘Say something Flo, please.’

  ‘I don’t know what to say.’

  ‘But you know I didn’t mean it … about the baby?’

  ‘You left me once because I said I wanted a child.’

  She heard him give a long, slow sigh. ‘But that was in the abstract, when we didn’t have one. Now you’re pregnant, things are different. You’re carrying my baby.’

  He brought his hand up and stroked the hair back from her face. His touch made her want to cry.

  ‘Flo, I love you. You believe that, don’t you? And I’ll love the child too, totally, of course I will. Please, can we forget about what we both said tonight? Start with a clean slate? I’ll go up to Scotland tomorrow and put Dad’s house on the market – I know you don’t really want to live there. We can use the money as a deposit on a place in the country somewhere. Prue and Philip will help us out I’m sure, now they know you’re pregnant. Or we can rent out Da
d’s place, use it to find somewhere down here. I’ll write the bloody book. I’ll do anything if you’ll just forget what I said.’

  ‘Maybe we should talk about it in the morning,’ she replied.

  Flora couldn’t think straight. She was tormented by the growing realisation that she and Fin might never be happy together. But every cell in her body rejected this prospect, crying out for his presence beside her, protecting her, supporting her in the difficult months to come. The thought of being alone again made her sick with fear. This is bound to be a tough time, she told herself. They’d only been back together a few months. Wouldn’t it settle down as soon as they had their own place?

  Fin moved closer to her, his arm across her body, his head beside hers on the pillow.

  ‘I love you,’ she heard him whisper into the darkness.

  In the cold light of Saturday morning, they said very little to each other. Even sex, normally the panacea for their rows, would be wholly inadequate as a means to erase the words spoken, and they both tacitly knew it. Flora had barely slept. Now she felt a terrible, leaden despair. She waited till after breakfast before telling him that she was going upstairs to see her sister.

  ‘OK, I’ll just get dressed.’

  ‘I think I’ll go on my own.’

  He glanced over at her. ‘Why?’

  She didn’t reply.

  ‘So you can tell her what a bastard I am?’ His grey eyes were sharp with pain. ‘She knows that already.’

  ‘Please … I just want to go on my own.’

  Fin got up and came over to her, taking hold of her arms. ‘Flora … don’t treat me like this. I’ve said I’m sorry.’

  She looked into his face. It was a face she had held in her dreams for most of the past ten years. Now, as she saw his pain, and knew that her own was probably reflected back, she knew she had run out of the will to make it better. For a brief second she rested against him, the feel of his body so seductively strong, yet so fundamentally unavailable to her for support at a time when she desperately needed it. As he brought his arms round her, she gently slipped from his embrace.

  ‘I won’t be long.’

  *

  ‘I can’t believe you didn’t tell me!’ Prue was beaming at her across the marble island. ‘Come here, darling.’ She hugged Flora so hard that she was almost winded. ‘Such brilliant news.’

  ‘I thought we should wait before telling anyone.’

  Prue shook her head. ‘Not even an issue. I totally understand why.’ She held her at arm’s length, looking her up and down. ‘I knew there was something odd about you … on Christmas Day, remember? I thought you were stressed about Jake being there.’

  Flora laughed, feeling a sudden burst of joy. ‘I still can’t believe it.’ For a moment they stood looking at each other, their faces alight with excitement. Then there was a clattering on the stairs and Bel rushed into the room.

  ‘Mum told me! It’s so cool, I’m going to have a cousin at last.’ She threw herself into Flora’s arms.

  ‘It’s very early days,’ Flora warned, but she was still unable to stop smiling.

  ‘Yeah, but it’ll be OK won’t it?’ Bel asked.

  ‘When’s the exact due date?’ Prue wanted to know.

  ‘First week of August, the doctor calculated, but that isn’t certain yet, because my periods have been weird.’

  ‘That’s ages.’ Bel looked disappointed, then whooped and began dancing round the kitchen. ‘I’m going to have a cou … sin, I’m going to have a cou … sin.’ She stopped. ‘Boy or girl, do you think?’

  ‘I’d like a girl … but I don’t really give a toss.’

  ‘And Fin?’ Prue asked.

  ‘He’s … not really said.’

  There was a puzzled silence. Her sister frowned.

  ‘He didn’t seem too thrilled yesterday when he told me.’

  Flora exhaled slowly. ‘He’s taking a bit of time to get his head round it. I think he’s worried about how we’ll cope … in London … if he’s not working.’ She turned away from her sister, not wanting her to see the tears.

  ‘You’re not going to live in Scotland are you?’ Bel’s voice was suddenly small. ‘You can’t.’

  ‘I don’t know what we’ll do,’ Flora said. ‘It’s all been such a shock. And sort of difficult timing.’

  ‘Oh, darling.’ Prue came over and put her arm round her. Her BlackBerry buzzed insistently, rocking around on the black marble, but she ignored it. ‘Please, don’t get in a state about it. You know we’ll help out if necessary.’

  ‘Thanks … thanks, Prue,’ Flora mumbled, blowing her nose. ‘But you’ve done enough. I’ve ligged off you for three years now.’

  ‘Nonsense. We can have a family conference if you like. Work out the best plan.’

  Flora shook her head. ‘Maybe later. Fin’s going up to see about the house.’

  When Flora got downstairs again, Fin had been as good as his word. He’d booked a ticket to Inverness on the sleeper, a reclining seat – the cheapest option – for the Wednesday after the New Year.

  ‘How did Prue take it?’

  ‘She was thrilled. So was Bel.’

  ‘Good.’

  ‘So how long will you be away?’

  Fin shrugged. ‘A week?’

  Flora felt a huge sense of relief at the prospect of having a few days on her own. Fin must have sensed it.

  ‘Can’t wait to get rid of me, eh?’ His laugh was hollow.

  ‘Maybe we just need a bit of a break,’ she said.

  ‘A break? What do you mean?’

  ‘Just a few days to think things out without winding each other up.’

  He looked cautiously relieved. ‘Yeah … maybe. God, Flo, I can’t bear what’s happening between us. Where did all the fun go?’ He smiled at her. ‘Can we have some fun over New Year? Promise each other we won’t mention Scotland or babies or jobs until I get back?’

  She nodded, smiling too. ‘We could try.’

  CHAPTER 17

  4 January

  Dominic was back. This time with a cheque for three hundred pounds for the Bowman landscape. Dorothea seemed hardly to notice the piece of paper he’d put in her hand. They were just finishing tea when the doorbell went.

  ‘That’ll be Dr Kent,’ Flora said.

  ‘Oops, better get out of the way.’ Dominic heaved his body off the sofa, handing Flora his cup and saucer and wiping his hands on his yellow handkerchief, pulled from the top pocket of his tweed jacket.

  ‘You don’t have to go. He said he was dropping something off … although he might just check to see how she is.’

  ‘And she’s in rude health, aren’t you Aunt Dot?’

  His ludicrous statement hung in the air as they both glanced at Dorothea, almost invisible under the rug, her features washed out, her body hardly more than skin and bone.

  Flora let the doctor in. He handed her a plastic carrier bag. ‘They’re disposable bed pads. We had a salesman in the surgery yesterday, and he left us a few packets. I thought they might come in handy.’

  ‘Brilliant. That’s so kind of you.’

  ‘Incontinence pads – don’t tell me I don’t know the way to a girl’s heart.’ He gave her an amused smile. There had been a certain constraint between them since the day he’d suggested she might be pregnant, and she was pleased to be able to laugh with him again.

  ‘How is she?’

  ‘She’s … she just seems to be fading away.’

  The doctor nodded. ‘Often happens, as you know. They get ill and just give up. I’ll stick my head round the door, say hello.’

  She followed him into the sitting room. Dominic was hovering, checking out a pretty silver dish on the top of the drop-leaf desk.

  Dr Kent went over to Dorothea and took her hand. But the old lady was still clutching the cheque her great-nephew had given her.

  ‘Someone been paying you off?’ the doctor joked, and elicited a shy giggle from his patient.

  ‘A
unt Dot has commissioned me to do a bit of a clear-out.’ Dominic paused. ‘Well, not “commissioned” as such. I wouldn’t dream of taking any payment.’

  Simon Kent nodded. ‘So what was this handsome cheque for?’ he asked Dorothea.

  She handed it to him. ‘I … think it was the painting …’ She pointed to the wall, where a pale square marked the place the landscape had hung.

  ‘I remember it well, a farmyard scene. It was lovely. Remember, we discussed it?’ He looked at Dorothea. ‘As I told you then, I’m a bit of a fan of John Bowman.’

  Dominic looked surprised. ‘Really? Very few people have heard of him.’

  ‘I have a collector friend who has about six of his. I’d love one myself, but he’s a bit beyond my price range.’

  ‘I didn’t manage to get very much for Aunt Dot’s, I’m afraid,’ said Dominic. ‘But you can’t give landscapes away right now. It’s all Chinese, Chinese, Chinese – anything oriental just runs out of the sale room.’ He shook his head at the iniquity of it all, then hurried over to Dorothea and dropped a kiss on her cheek.

  ‘I’d better be off Aunty. Lovely to see you as always. I’ll come again soon.’

  ‘Don’t leave on my account,’ Dr Kent said. ‘I was just delivering something to Flora. I’m not staying.’

  ‘No, no. I’m late already. I’ve got stuff to pick up in the West End and the traffic will be murder in half an hour.’

  He smiled breezily at Flora and hurried away.

  ‘Was it something I said?’ The doctor looked puzzled.

  ‘Maybe it was …’ Flora replied.

  When she got the doctor in the hall, away from Dorothea, she asked, ‘When you say that a Bowman painting is beyond your price range, you didn’t mean three hundred pounds, did you?’

  He raised his eyebrows. ‘I certainly didn’t. Denis never gets them for less than two thousand, and that’s the bottom end. He tried to flog me one for three and a half a couple of months ago. That guy must have put it in a general sale, where no one knew who he was. Bowman would need a specialist sale to get proper money.’

  ‘I think I need to have a talk with Rene,’ Flora muttered.

  ‘Things going well … with you?’ the doctor asked as he put his coat on, shaking it first. Flora could see it was wet, and the smell of damp wool was curiously reassuring. It reminded her of her childhood, and coming in from the garden when they’d been playing in the rain.