When Stars Collide

by Tammy Robinson

  “Stupid thing” she muttered and grabbing a tube of black paint she smeared a big mark right over the canvas then she grabbed the sides and twisted and pulled at it till it was bent in half.

  “An interesting interpretation, but I personally wouldn’t hang it on my wall.”

  Ivy turned to the vaguely familiar voice.

  ‘Meredith,” she said in delight clambering awkwardly to her feet to embrace the woman. “How are you?”

  Walt’s mother smiled at her fondly. “I’m very well thank you Ivy. Same can’t be said for you though I see” she gestured knowingly towards the now ruined canvas.

  “That obvious?” Ivy said ruefully.

  “Well I never had you pegged for wanton violence my dear, so yes. I can see that something is troubling you.”

  “It’s nothing,” Ivy said, looking at the ground. She was not about to admit to Meredith that she was obsessed with her son. That not a minute of the day went by when she didn’t picture his face, the expression in his eyes when they were on the beach. She was sure they had come close to something then, some kind of revelation, until the moment had been ruined by James. Not that she could be mad at him for he was a wonderful friend and was always looking out for her. Leo had called him that day when he’d noticed a squall coming across the ocean, sent him to the beach to fetch Ivy home. Yes, he was a great friend to them both. It wasn’t his fault that his timing was so lousy.

  “If you say so,” Meredith said, but her eyes were intuitive and betrayed that she had an inkling for what was really upsetting Ivy. “I see congratulations are in order,” she said, rubbing her own belly and nodding towards Ivy’s.

  “Thank you.”

  “How much longer do you have?”

  “Not long, a couple of weeks.”

  “Well, you will be a wonderful mother. How’s the father to be, excited, nervous? Or perhaps a little of both?”

  “I have no idea,”

  Meredith gave her a questioning look.

  “We’re not together anymore, he’s back in the UK. Has no interest in being involved in this baby’s life.”

  “Oh my dear, I am really sorry to hear that,” Meredith was sympathetic.

  Ivy shrugged her shoulders, “Don’t be, it’s ok. I mean I would have preferred for my baby to have two parents, but I will make sure that he or she never goes without love, or anything they might need for that matter. One parent who loves you as much as I already love this baby is better than two parents when ones heart isn’t into it.”

  “Absolutely,” Meredith agreed. It was strange, she could have sworn Walt had mentioned something about the father, but she must have been mistaken.

  “Well I must be off,” she said. “I was just driving past on my way to an appointment and saw you painting so I thought I would stop and say hello.”

  “Well it was nice to see you again,” Ivy said, although something the older woman had just said was niggling at her. What was it?

  “Oh no!” she said as she remembered, “I missed my midwife appointment this morning.”

  Tears sprung to her eyes as she realised. She would never normally have missed something so important and was angry at herself that she had been so distracted with thoughts of Walt and had forgotten.

  “Can I take you somewhere?” Meredith asked.

  “No it’s ok, I know you’re on your way somewhere.”

  Meredith checked her watch, “I have time to kill, the appointment is not for another hour.”

  “Well if you’re sure, I would really appreciate it.”

  And so Meredith took Ivy to the midwifes appointment, and Ivy was so grateful she asked Meredith if she wanted to stay and hear the baby’s heartbeat. So Meredith did, and she shared in Ivy’s joy when the fast little woosh woosh woosh woosh echoed through the room as Devon pushed the Doppler into Ivy’s belly.

  “Oh,” Meredith clapped her hands together in delight, “now isn’t that the most wonderful sound you’ve ever heard.”

  “I certainly never get sick of hearing it,” Ivy said in agreement.

  “Everything’s going really well Ivy,” Devon smiled, helping her back into a sitting position on the examination bed. “The baby has dropped and growth is right on track. We can expect baby to make an appearance at any time from now on.”

  “Really? I heard first babies are usually late.”

  “Often, but not always.”

  “I can’t believe this little one will be here soon,” Ivy said, rubbing her stomach lovingly. “It still doesn’t feel completely real.”

  “I don’t mean to push you Ivy, but have you thought any more about a birth plan? Did you read that sheet I gave you?”

  “Oh yes I jotted down some thoughts,” Ivy rummaged through her bag and pulled out a crumpled paper. She straightened it out on her knee and handed it over.

  Devon scanned it and looked up at Ivy, “You haven’t put anything under birth partner.” She flicked a glance towards Meredith then back at Ivy. “Is there anyone you want with you for the birth?”

  Ivy’s face dropped momentarily then she lifted her chin and smiled brightly. “No, just you and I will be fine”

  Meredith, observing, knew that Ivy had thought of her mother and sister in that moment and her heart broke for Ivy not being able to have them with her. Her own daughter had given birth to three children over the years and she’d been present for the birth of each. It was unbelievably sad the things that Ivy had been subjected to in her life, and the things that poor Pat and June and the others had missed out on when their lives were so cruelly cut short.

  Life, she reflected, could be a cold hearted bitch sometimes.

  Chapter thirty two

  (Note handwritten on paper and burnt in the back yard under the stars)

  Dear Mum and June,

  This should be the happiest time of my life. Don’t get me wrong, I AM happy. I am over the moon in fact and I can’t wait to meet this baby and hold him or her in my arms and kiss their tiny little face with a million kisses.

  This baby better be prepared for an outpouring of love, because I have a huge amount to give. Granddad has gone nuts buying anything and everything baby related in the village. This child will not want for anything I can promise you.

  I am DELIRIOUSLY happy about the baby. Just want to make that perfectly clear.

  I just wish you were here. I’m missing you guys so much. I miss the sight of you, the smell of you, and the touch of you.

  I am going to be all by myself when this baby is born and that’s not fair.

  But I need to be a grown up and put on my brave face, because soon I will be in charge of a little human being and even though that thought terrifies the hell out of me, it also thrills me beyond belief.

  Love you so much, forever and always, up to the stars and back a million trillion times,

  Ivy xx

  PS - Oh and also, the man I love is due to marry another woman tomorrow. It’s going to be a long day.

  Chapter thirty three

  “See you tomorrow my darling,” Nina said huskily down the phone, “when we become man and wife, can you believe it? I’m so happy.”

  “Mm,” Walt tried hard to sound as enthused as she did, he really did. But it was hard when he felt as if a noose was around his neck and getting tighter by the minute. Putting the phone down he poured himself another whiskey. Normally he made it a rule not to drink hard liquor the night before a big day, but in this case he was making an exception. If he didn’t drink he was afraid he might do something crazy, like run from the village under the cover of darkness.

  How the hell had it come to be that he was getting married tomorrow? It seemed like just the other day he got engaged, and that was a big enough step on its own. In fact it was the first, giant step in his plan to move on from Ivy, and when he’d proposed he’d had a nice long engagement in mind. Long like years. But somehow Nina had, through a series of subtle hints and questioning, got him to agree to a quicker wedding. She had been
clever, keeping the bulk of the organising and the details away from him so at no point had he suddenly had the opportunity to stop and think wait, what the hell is happening here? And now here it was, the eve of the big day itself, staring him in the face from the other end of a long barrel.

  He downed the whiskey and poured himself another one.

  He felt panicked and paced the house from room to room.

  Once again he found himself wondering how things had gotten to this place. He was leaving a house he loved. Marrying a woman he didn’t.

  Thinking those words he stopped suddenly. It was the first time he had admitted it to himself. He didn’t love Nina.

  How could he when he had never stopped loving Ivy?

  What a huge mess.

  Maybe, he thought, with time and distance he could learn to love Nina. Away from here, away from Ivy and this house and the beach and everything that reminded him of her. Maybe then he could develop feelings for Nina beyond the affection he currently fostered.

  Maybe.

  And maybe not.

  But he would have to try. There was no way out of it now. He couldn’t, wouldn’t be so heartless as to dump a woman on her wedding day. That was not his style. It was his fault things had come this far, and he would have to see them through.

  He couldn’t have the one he wanted. And oh, how he wanted her. He wanted her with every desperate fibre of his being. He wanted to taste her with every breath he took, feel her touch every morning, and be able to gaze upon her at will. He wanted to know that she was his and his only, for always. That she would be there in his bed at his side every night when they bade farewell to each and every day as they grew old together. He wanted it to be his child inside of her, and he wanted to have more, a whole tribe with her.

  Oh the things he wanted! The things he had always wanted, since that very first night together all those years ago. The things he had dreamt of since then. Things that were now out of his reach.

  Even this house, he thought angrily as he poured himself another drink and resumed his restless pacing, this house had been designed with their life in mind, his and Ivy’s. Everything he had ever done, he had done for her.

  Despite what he had said to Ivy in the beach that day, he did forgive her for the way she had left years ago. He’d forgiven her when it happened, for he could hold no grudge against her after what she’d been through. But even though he didn’t blame her it still hurt. It hurt that she hadn’t believed in them enough to tell him how she was feeling. He would have gone with her; would have spent his life trying to make her happy again.

  But what did it matter. It was all in the past now. Nothing he could do would ever change the past. He stormed through the lounge on the way to get another drink and banged his knee dodging between the couch and the coffee table. He swore and kicked out at the couch and it moved. He heard something hit the wall behind it and very nearly brushed it off and kept going, but something, a whisper in his ear that tinkled like a summer’s song, made him stop. He pushed the couch a foot to one side and saw something tucked behind it. Pulling it out he realised it was artwork of some sort, wrapped in beautiful blue and white striped crepe paper. Someone had gone to a lot of effort. An envelope was tucked into the paper and he opened it. An engagement card. He nearly tossed it but then curiosity got the better of him and he opened it.

  The message inside was simple.

  Dear Walt and Nina,

  Congratulations on your engagement.

  I hope this present brings you peace and comfort, like the memory of this place brought me great comfort over the years.

  Love,

  Ivy.

  He exhaled at the sight of her name. Ivy. There was no stamp on the card or parcel. She had been to the house.

  He picked up the parcel, felt the crisp paper rustle under his fingers. He took a deep breath and gently prised open the paper where it had been taped shut. As the painting was revealed he sunk to his knees on the carpet. Oh Ivy. There was no mistaking the scene. It was the ocean and the tree and the treehouse, the view they had spent nights admiring, while they talked and made love under the stars what felt like oh, so many years ago.

  He traced the colours and the brushstrokes with his finger.

  She hadn’t signed the front. He turned it over to check the back and saw that she had listed, in her fine handwriting, the colours of paint she had used. And there at the top; palatine blue.

  She’d remembered.

  A throwaway comment, under a spring moon in someone’s garden many years ago; and she had remembered.

  He had to see her. He couldn’t drive as he had consumed too many drinks so he ran and he walked and he even skipped occasionally, and it took him over an hour so when he got there it was just after midnight and the house was in darkness. He had come all this way though and he was not leaving without seeing her, without knowing if she loved him too, so he knocked, almost pounded at the door until a light came on inside the house. Then the porch light above him turned on and he squinted at the sudden brightness.

  “Who is it?” Leo called, his voice older and frailer but still unmistakably the same as that other night Walt had come to this door, much the same as this; late and desperate.

  “It’s me, Walt.”

  He heard the locks fumbled, chains undone. The door opened, Leo blinked at him as his eyes adjusted.

  “Walt? Is everything ok?”

  “I need to see Ivy.”

  “She’s asleep. What is it?”

  “Please, I just need to see her.”

  Leo drew back as the stench of whiskey assailed him. “You’re drunk,” he accused.

  “No. Yes, probably.”

  Leo stepped over the threshold, pulling the door ajar behind him.

  “I’m sorry Leo,” Walt said, “I know this probably doesn’t look good. I just need to see her.”

  A thought occurred to Leo. “Aren’t you getting married tomorrow?” he asked.

  Walt closed his eyes; he’d managed to forget that fact for a short time but now it rushed back and he felt the noose tighten its grip.

  “Yes,” he said.

  “Then what possible good can come from this visit?”

  “I love her, Leo. I love her.”

  Leo sighed, “I know you do.”

  “I need to tell her.”

  “And then what? Will you still marry that other woman tomorrow?”

  Walt slumped against the wall. ‘I don’t know,” he slurred. The drink and the physical and mental exhaustion had caught up with him. He could barely keep his eyes open. “I don’t know what to do,” he said helplessly.

  “Whatever you decide you’re in no fit state to see her,” Leo told him firmly. “I’m fond of you Walt, you know that, but I have to protect my granddaughter. She is due to give birth any day now for god’s sake!”

  Walt was startled as he had never heard Leo raise his voice before.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t think –”

  “I’m not going to let you see her tonight. But you can sleep here if you like. I’ll give you some blankets and you can bunk down on the couch. If you still feel the same in the morning you can talk to her then. But I’m warning you, if you try to see her tonight I will know, my bedroom is just across the hall from hers, and I will make you live to regret it, understand?”

  Walt was too drunk and too bewildered to argue, so he meekly followed Leo into the house and sat on the couch with his head in his hands while Leo fetched blankets from the linen cupboard under the stairs.

  “What am I going to do?” Walt moaned as Leo handed the blankets over.

  “I feel for you lad, I really do. But only you can make that decision. Now get some sleep. Whatever happens, you’ve got a big day ahead of you tomorrow.” Then Leo left him, with one last warning that he would be keeping an ear out.

  Walt hadn’t expected to be able to sleep with all the inner turmoil but the alcohol had other ideas and he was out within minutes, snoring lightly. He
did toss and turn quite a bit, and the blankets ended up on the floor, but he slept.

  In the morning he was still asleep when Ivy came down to make herself some breakfast. Her pregnant tummy had grown substantially in the last few weeks, and it was awkward for her to find a comfortable position to sleep in. She also had tossed and turned through the night, unaware that the man she loved was just downstairs.

  Crossing the lounge she noticed the blankets on the floor and she bent down, puzzled, to pick them up. At the same moment Walt let out a gentle grunt, rolled over and fell off the couch. She screamed and he sat up quickly, disorientated and wearing, as he had bumped his elbow on the coffee table when he fell.

  “What are you doing here?” Ivy asked, her hands clutching her chest where her heart was pounding from the fright.

  “I have no idea,” he answered, “but I think I just sat up too fast. Unless the room is spinning for you too?”

  “Don’t be silly,” she said, clutching her dressing gown closed around the not very substantial nightgown she was wearing. Not before he caught a glimpse of smooth lithe limbs though.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked again.

  “Sorry Ivy,” her grandfather said, coming down the stairs. “I meant to be up first to warn you.”

  “You knew he was here?”

  Her grandfather reached her side and nodded. He looked down at Walt, who was pale and gingerly rubbing his temples. “He turned up in the early hours, drunk as a skunk and demanding to see you. I told him he had to sleep it off and wait till morning. Coffee?” he asked this last question to Walt, who nodded gratefully.

  “A gallon of it please.”

  “Coming right up,” and Leo wandered off to the kitchen.

  “Here, let me help you up,” Ivy said, leaning down to offer Walt a hand.

  “No no, it’s ok,” he said, one eye on her stomach. “I can manage.”