by Sharon Booth
'But you trust him?' Beth said, shocked at Eden's revelation. 'You don't think he's cheating on you?'
Eden looked genuinely stunned at the very idea. 'What! Eliot? No, of course not. He'd never do that. But something's up, Beth, and I don't know what it is.' She shrugged. 'I suppose he'll tell me in his own good time. We've got more important things to worry about anyway.' She twisted her watch on her wrist, clearly agitated. 'What happens now? Do you think Deborah will go all out for custody?'
'I think she will,' Beth admitted. 'She's desperate to see George, and if she thinks Eliot's never going to allow it ... It's funny, I'd have expected David to be the one demanding his rights, but he's been strangely quiet on this issue. It's all been Deborah.'
Eden hesitated. 'Beth, do me a favour? When you go back, don't tell Deborah he said no. Give me some time to work on him, please. Tell her — tell her he's thinking it over.'
'Do you think he'll change his mind?' Beth was doubtful. She'd known Eliot for a long time and knew all too well how obstinate he could be.
'I don't know,' Eden confessed, 'but I have to try to get through to him, and I don't want the door shutting before I've given it my best shot. Once she decides to proceed, we're screwed. Even Cain's solicitor thinks it's unlikely that the Fullers will get no access to George at all. Eliot's going to have to accept it, one way or the other. It would be far better for us all if he'd accept it sooner rather than later, and we could do this the pleasant way.'
'If there is a pleasant way,' Beth said with a sigh. 'All right, Eden. I'll try to hold Deborah off as long as I can, but I warn you, it won't be for long. I know her. Please, please try to make him see sense.'
Though, deep down, she knew it was hopeless. Sometimes, Eliot let his heart rule his head, and when it came to his children he was like a lion. She had an awful feeling nothing Eden said would persuade him to back down.
****
The third morning she was sick, Beth finally allowed herself to believe. She'd grown used, over the years, to checking the calendar religiously, and until then she'd never been more than a day or two late with her period.
When it failed to materialise this month, she'd run through a whole range of emotions. At first, she'd tried to dismiss it as a blip. A cruel trick of nature that she must ignore for her own sanity. As the days passed, she felt a prickle of hope that she tried to push away. The hope became a fear, as every day the dread that her hopes would be dashed grew greater. Two weeks after her period should have arrived, Beth felt the first signs of nausea, and for the last few days she'd thrown up within minutes of waking.
As she left the supermarket a few hours later, Beth clutched the pregnancy test to her chest, her heart thudding with a mixture of elation and terror. She'd wanted this for so long, and, apart from the two IVF attempts, she'd never got as far as even needing to buy a test. Now there was a very real chance that she was finally expecting the baby she longed for, but if she was wrong, if it was a false alarm ...
She sat in the car for ages, staring at the box and wondering what to do. If she left the test in the car, if she ignored it, she could carry on hoping. If she did it, and it was negative, that would be it. She'd have to face up to the grief, the loss all over again. She didn't know if she was strong enough.
But if she was wrong, wasn't it better to know now? To put the thought of what could be out of her mind before it became an obsession? Beth opened the box and looked at the directions. She'd assumed the test would have to be done first thing in the morning, but no. It said she could do it any time of day, and she did need the loo, after all ...
She stared out of the windscreen, watching the other people hurrying through the car park, pushing trolleys, dragging reluctant children, checking receipts, struggling with carrier bags. Everything was normal to them — just another day. They had no idea that today was the day that could change everything. Or not.
Beth took a deep breath, then she pushed the test back in its bag and climbed out of the car. She almost ran back into the supermarket and found her way to the toilets, hoping there wasn't a queue. To her relief, it was empty, and she entered the cubicle, slid the lock in place and took the test from the bag, staring at it in terror.
'Just do it,' she muttered. 'You need to know, one way or the other.'
There was no going back now. As she waited for the result, Beth leaned against the cubicle wall, feeling ill. This was it. She might be pregnant. What would Jed say? She felt a sudden clutching of fear. What would James say? Oh, God! It had been so long since she felt anything for James that she'd quite forgotten that strange evening, when he'd come home in a most peculiar mood and practically dragged her to bed. It was the last time they'd had sex. She wouldn't say made love.
Frantically, she tried to remember the exact date it had happened and realised the awful truth. If she was pregnant, the baby could be James's or Jed's. She bit her lip. One way or the other, James was going to find out the truth about her and Jed. She wasn't looking forward to that.
She shook her head impatiently. You're getting ahead of yourself. There isn't a baby. It's a false alarm. Stop being stupid!
Yet her hand shook as she reached for the little white stick that lay on top of the bag on the cistern, and she closed her eyes for a moment before she dared to look.
For a moment, she stared at the little screen, then she gasped out loud. She was pregnant! There really was a baby in there. Beth pushed her knuckles into her mouth to stop herself from sobbing out loud. It had happened at last.
Life was going to get very complicated indeed, with revelations and recriminations to face. But right now, it didn't matter. No one need know. Not yet. This was her precious secret, and she wanted to enjoy it for a while, just her alone. Gently, she stroked her stomach in wonder. She was going to be a mother.
JUNE
Chapter Twenty-Nine
'Hello?'
Eden heard the call from where she was working in the kitchen of the small bunk barn. She'd been scrubbing the oven and thinking that, really, some of these hikers were mucky pups as the girls would say. Goodness only knows what they'd been cooking in there. It looked as if a casserole had exploded behind that door.
Hearing the rather tentative-sounding shout from the vestibule, she hurried out of the kitchen, pulling off her rubber gloves as she went and pushing back tendrils of hair that had escaped her pony tail.
An elegant and attractive middle-aged brunette stood by the door, clutching an expensive-looking leather bag in her hands.
Eden smiled a welcome, although she couldn't imagine this visitor was interested in booking a bed for the night. Maybe she was lost, looking for directions?
'Eden Robinson?'
Okay, not lost then. 'Yes. Can I help?'
'I do hope you can.' The woman held out her hand. 'Deborah Fuller.'
Eden felt the colour drain from her face. She stared at the enemy in disbelief, making no move to take the proffered hand. What the hell was she doing at Fleetsthorpe? 'What do you want?'
The woman withdrew her hand, looking offended. 'Just a little chat, that's all.'
'I thought you did all your talking through third parties,' Eden said coldly. 'You know, a solicitor, or Beth.'
'I'm here to talk, not to argue. Beth is very transparent, and it was easy to decipher that Eliot isn't so keen to reach an agreement with me, regarding access to my grandson. I was hoping we could work something out between us, rather than pursue a legal case.'
Eden didn't know what to think. It would be wonderful if this fiasco could be resolved without solicitors, but she knew the sticking point would be Eliot. He would never agree to anything this woman suggested.
'I'm sorry to disturb you at work,' Deborah murmured. 'I didn't know you had this business or I would have made it another time.'
'You shouldn't have come to the farm at all,' Eden told her. 'If Eliot sees you...'
'I know that he's having difficulty accepting the situation,' Deborah said. 'And I
can understand that, honestly. Nevertheless, you must see that I have rights. James has rights.'
Eden's eyes narrowed. 'I don't see that he has any rights. He gave up all of those when he chose to abandon George when Jemima was killed. What would have happened if Eliot hadn't wanted him either? He'd have gone into care!'
'That would never have happened,' Deborah said quickly. 'James was in shock, and he had Beth to consider. It was all very tricky.'
Eden couldn't believe the damn cheek of her. 'It was a bit more than tricky for poor Eliot!' she burst out. 'His wife had just given birth to a child that wasn't his, his marriage was in tatters, thanks to your son, then Jemima was killed, and he was left with two heartbroken little girls and a baby who had no one else in the world to care for him. I'd say that was bloody devastating, never mind tricky!' She gulped back the tears, not wanting to show any weakness to a Fuller, of all people.
Deborah's expression softened. 'Is there somewhere we can talk?'
'I'm too busy, and there's no one to take over.'
Deborah fiddled with the button of her jacket. 'Would you meet me later then? At a more convenient time?'
'I've got the kitchens to clean, then I have to get the tea ready for the kids and Eliot. It's impossible.'
'Please, Eden, I haven't come here for an argument.'
'Then what have you come here for?' Eden demanded.
'I want to make an arrangement with you.'
Eden's eyes narrowed. 'What sort of arrangement?'
'I agree with you that seeking custody of George is the wrong path to take.'
'You do?'
'Yes. However, James seems set on it, so I have to tread carefully. Now, if Eliot would agree to access —'
'But he won't.' Eden said in despair. 'He doesn't want James to have anything to do with George.'
'But he will have to realise, eventually, that he'll have no choice. James is George's natural father, and he has rights. Now, this can get as dirty as James and Eliot decide to make it. If this is about their feud, then things could get very ugly indeed. However, if they concentrate on what's best for George, it could be bearable for everyone, including that little boy.'
Eden considered the matter. 'What do you want, Deborah?'
'I know that Eliot won't allow access to George, but would you?'
Eden raised an eyebrow. 'Me?'
Deborah leaned towards her, her voice eager. 'Let me see George, Eden. Eliot need never know, I promise you. I want to see him, that's all. Get to know him a little.'
'And what would that achieve?'
'If you do this for me, I swear to you that I'll work on James. He's already got Beth against him, and so far, I've been his only support. If you let me see my grandson, I'll make sure that he drops all ideas of custody and settles for reasonable access.'
'And you think he'd do that?'
Deborah looked rather ashamed. 'I do, actually, because it was me who persuaded him to pursue this case in the first place.'
'So, it was you!'
Deborah reddened. 'James sprang the news on me. I was in shock. When he told me how much he was missing George, how much he longed to have him in his life but that he'd been unable to because of Beth, something snapped. I may have got a little carried away.'
'You think?' Eden said, sarcastically.
'The point is, I was the one who urged him to fight for George, and I was the one who hired the solicitor. James listens to me. Between me and Beth, I think we can get him to drop the idea of full custody.'
'But I'd have to persuade Eliot to accept access.'
'Yes. And I understand that's going to be difficult, but I can give you plenty of time. I can hold James off for months, if necessary, while you bring Eliot round to the idea.'
'As long as you get to see him in the meantime.'
'I just want contact with my grandchild. That's all. I'm not asking for much.'
Eden shook her head. 'You're asking for the world, Mrs Fuller, and I'm sorry, but you're going to be disappointed.'
Deborah sighed. 'I see. So, you won't help me? You won't listen to reason?'
'There's nothing you can say to me, unless it's that you'll drop all claims to Georgie.' She rubbed her forehead, feeling exhausted suddenly. 'And you're not going to do that, are you?'
There was a moment's silence, then Deborah said, 'I'm afraid not. I'm sorry to have wasted your time, Eden.'
As she turned and left the barn, Eden slumped in despair. 'Not as sorry as I am,' she murmured.
****
Emerald was in the right mood to tackle James. He'd rung her the evening after Leeds, when she was getting into bed, asking if she'd like to meet up with him. She'd put the phone down on him, too angry to speak.
James hadn't given up. He'd rung her again the next day, grovelling his apology about his behaviour in Leeds. Emerald wanted to demand if he really thought she was ignoring him because of Leeds? For goodness sake, she had more about her than that. But if she'd told him so, she'd have had to tell him the real reason she was upset with him, and she couldn't do that. How could she, without revealing that she'd been foolish enough to believe she was special to him, and discovering she was another in a line of women had crushed her? It was impossible, particularly when she'd made it very clear to him that she only wanted friendship. How could someone like James possibly understand such a fragile ego? She barely understood it herself.
Instead, she'd haughtily told him she was too tired to be bothered with that conversation, then switched off her phone and tried to sleep, although it didn't come easily, which was very annoying. When she put her phone back on, there were another two missed calls and a text message from him.
I'M SORRY, HONESTLY. DON'T LET THIS END OUR FRIENDSHIP. I MISS YOU, EMERALD. PARADISE HOTEL, TONIGHT, 8PM? I SWEAR I'LL BE THE PERFECT GENTLEMAN X
She'd ignored the text and hadn't kept the appointment. She had no time for him. He was a liar and a cheat, and he'd played her for a fool. She was having nothing to do with him.
Then, a few days later, Eden had launched her attack.
She'd been in a funny mood all evening, snappy and irritable. Even the children had ducked out of her way, heading for the living room the minute they'd finished eating. Eliot had sat at the table, turning a slice of bread and butter over and over between his fingers, watching her with a bemused expression on his face, but saying nothing.
Emerald had decided she'd had quite enough of the sour-faced cow and was going upstairs to read her Wisdom and Spirit magazine. Jed stood up and began to collect the dishes, but Eden had leapt up and told him to leave them.
'It's no trouble,' he'd assured her, but she'd practically snatched them out of his hands.
'I don't see why you should be doing them,' she said. 'You've been hard at work all day, helping Eliot.'
'And you've been cooking, cleaning, doing the laundry and whatever else,' he pointed out. 'I think you've earned a break.'
'But she hasn't been doing anything!'
Emerald jumped, startled, as Eden turned the full blast of her anger upon her. 'Who's rattled your cage?'
'You have!' Eden was quivering with rage. 'Where were you today? I was flat out, and what were you doing? Sat on your fat arse somewhere reading that New Age magazine you love, I suppose?'
Emerald couldn't believe it. 'I was busy,' she spluttered.
'Busy doing nothing as usual. You do remember that your father told you to help us out? Only, you're staying here rent free and doing sod all to earn your keep from what I can see.'
'Well, that's where you're wrong,' Emerald had retorted. 'I've been very busy sorting out something for your wedding.'
'Oh, fuck the wedding!' Eden slammed the dishes back onto the table, causing the whole thing to quiver as if in fear of her temper.
Emerald glanced across at Eliot, who had dropped the bread and was now staring at Eden with evident concern. 'Are you all right, my love?'
'Do I look all right?'
'What is it?
What's happened?'
Jed and Emerald exchanged looks as Eliot stood and went to put his arms around Eden.
'Nothing's happened. It's her!' Eden jabbed an accusing finger in Emerald's direction. 'I'm sick of her. She just sits around doing nothing, while we all work our fingers to the bone. I've had enough.'
Eliot looked choked. 'It's too much for you, isn't it? I knew it would be.'
'You're not bloody listening,' she snapped. 'This isn't about me. It's about that freeloader, doing nothing and getting away with it. She could have been in the barns today, giving me a hand, but instead — oh, what's the point!'
She pulled away from Eliot's hold and stormed out of the kitchen, slamming the door behind her. Eliot stared at the door for a moment, his face pale, then he looked helplessly at Emerald and Jed.
'She's exhausted, Eliot,' Jed reassured him. 'You know, the barns are nearly fully-booked, and there were quite a few customers wanting cream teas today. I reckon she's tired out.'
'I knew it was going to be too much for her,' Eliot murmured. 'I warned her.'
'Why don't you go and see her?' Jed suggested. 'I think she could use some comforting.'
Eliot nodded and left the room and Jed had turned to Emerald, his face serious. 'You need to start pulling your weight, Emmy.'
Emerald glared at him. 'Don't tell me you're taking her side? After the way she spoke to me!'
'I'm just saying she's got a lot on her plate, and she could use a hand. You're not doing much with your days that I can see.'
'Well, that's where you're wrong,' Emerald said, feeling uncomfortable. 'This wedding takes an awful lot of planning.'
Though, not that much, she had to admit. She'd more-or-less wrapped everything up ages ago. Truthfully, she spent most of her time tripping around New Age shops in Leeds, Ripon or Harrogate. She'd stocked up on crystals and incense, and she'd found a wonderful little shop not far from Harrogate where the lady in charge read tarot cards and had given Emerald a cut-price reading, just because she had such a beautiful aura.