When You Walked Back Into My Life
Page 29
Flora shook her head emphatically. ‘They won’t. I don’t suppose he’ll even be there when the baby’s born. He was only here this time to get his visa for Nepal, and needed somewhere to crash. He didn’t even ring to say he was coming, just burst in on me.’
Simon didn’t seem quite to believe her, although he still held onto her hand. ‘This isn’t meant to sound disrespectful to pregnant women, but maybe you shouldn’t be making important decisions right now.’
Flora gave a short laugh. ‘Fin assumes I’ve lost it too. But he had reason, I yelled at him like a banshee.’
He finally smiled.
‘It wasn’t pretty.’ She paused. ‘I know what you’re saying, but where you’re concerned, I think I know my own mind. You can’t invent what happened between us last night; it was extraordinary, Simon.’
‘I certainly couldn’t invent it, no.’
‘And it’s not as if we’re even having sex, or moving in together …’
The doctor grinned. ‘Yet,’ he said.
EPILOGUE
September 2013
‘This is bonkers,’ Flora whispered. She looked around her in awe. The long ballroom with its polished wood floor, padded plush velour walls – shabby now – and unique barrel-shaped dome of a ceiling was lit by a bizarre mix of dozens of French chandeliers and glowing red clusters of Chinese lanterns. At one end were tables and chairs, some on a raised dais, at the other a small curtained stage. The faded, almost tawdry grandeur of the place was at once exotic and intimate.
A number of couples were already doing the quickstep to the loud strains of ‘Puttin’ on the Ritz’ and Flora, despite herself, found her foot tapping.
‘Sit here,’ Simon instructed, finding a table on the raised dais where Flora could get a good view. ‘I’ll get you a drink.’
She watched the dancers as she waited for him to come back; some of them were impressive, gliding slickly around in perfect harmony, backs beautifully arched, elbows high. At the other end of the spectrum were those who hardly knew the steps and constantly tripped, stopped and laughed, and began again. But everyone was enjoying themselves.
This was the first time Flora had been out without the baby. Thea Sarah Bancroft was six weeks old now and currently in the safe hands of Prue and Bel – who was so in love with her little cousin that she spent most of her spare time round at Flora’s.
Flora had wanted to call her Dorothea, but Bel pointed out that she’d always be nicknamed Dot or Dotty. And Simon agreed. It was her niece who’d suggested Thea. Sarah was for Fin’s mother – Flora thought it important that the other half of Thea’s genes be acknowledged in some way. But Fin hadn’t seen his daughter yet. He was long gone on his Anna-purna trek, and had said he was too busy training to be there for the birth.
They’d hardly spoken since Flora’s outburst back in May, even though she’d apologised. She felt guilty at how thoroughly relieved she was, and guilty, too, because she knew that Thea would never really know her father properly. But she had to remind herself that Fin had never wanted a baby in the first place, despite his numerous dissemblings over the years. And Thea, she hoped, had Simon.
The baby had also healed the rift between her and Prue. The day after Thea was born, her sister had arrived at the hospital with a huge basket of flowers. They had held each other for a long time in silence. Neither of them, it was clear, had any desire to rake over the painful past.
It was Simon who had paced with Flora through the early labour pains, driven her to the hospital, held her hand as she screamed abuse at him and the nurses when the pain got too hard to bear. And it was Simon who had held Thea in the crook of his arm and gazed at her as if she were his own.
She had asked him time and again during her pregnancy if he could ever accept Fin’s child as his, and he had always replied that he didn’t know. But in the event the bonding between him and Thea had seemed to happen naturally. Flora had yet to meet Jasmine, his own daughter. Her mother had taken her to America for the summer to visit relatives. Flora was nervous of how the little girl would react to her, but she was determined to try and forge the same bond with her as Simon had with Thea.
‘I’ve been dying to show this place to you,’ the doctor said as he set down her lime and soda, his Coke. ‘It started as a cinema, but the kitsch decor is pure Fifties. Isn’t it heaven?’
‘I love it. Some of the dancers are brilliant.’
‘Yeah, and some of them are dire.’ He pointed to a young guy stumbling over his partner’s feet just beneath their table.
Flora laughed. ‘That’d be me.’ She had vowed she wouldn’t, couldn’t dance tonight. She had only come along for the ride. But now she was here she knew she wouldn’t be able to resist.
It almost made her dizzy, being away from Thea, out in the loud adult world again, her breasts tingling at every thought of her baby, the song-beat drowning out conversation and thought.
‘We won’t stay long. I know you’ll worry. But let’s have a couple of dances … when you’re ready.’
‘Make it a waltz,’ she said, ‘it’s the only one I have any idea how to do.’
When ‘You Light Up My Life’ came on, Simon grabbed her. ‘Now or never!’
They stepped onto the dance floor, Simon expertly manoeuvring her between the other couples. Flora did little else but press herself against him, cling to him, let him lift her round … her feet, for the most part, obeyed his own. After a while she stopped worrying, just gave herself up to the moment.
‘You … light up my life,’ Simon sang in her ear, ‘you give me hope … to carry on …’
She looked up at him, and for a second they were suspended in that sea of movement, looking into each other’s eyes for what seemed like an eternity. He smiled, and dropped a quick kiss on her mouth, then swept her off again, round and round across the polished maplewood floor.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS:
Huge thanks to my agent, Laura Morris, and my editor, Jane Wood. To Katie Gordon, Robyn Karney and all the Quercus team. To my wonderfully supportive family and friends and particularly to T.S. and Enid Grant-Govan.
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