Just the Two of Us

by Georgie Capron

  ‘I hear many happy returns of the day are in order?’ asked Rory.

  ‘Yes, happy birthday Mum,’ said Lucy. ‘Let’s have a toast.’

  They clinked glasses and drank to Ginny’s good health, making small talk about the weather, the journey from Cornwall, Tiggy and Rufus, and how much they were all looking forward to the show.

  At the five minute warning, Lucy and Ginny nipped to the loo to spend a penny. Embarrassingly Ginny shouted, ‘SUCH a gorgeous man!’ at the top of her voice the minute they turned their backs on the others, firmly within Rory’s earshot; subtlety was certainly not her forte! They dried their hands in the blade hand dryer that suctioned the water from your skin in seconds as though you were shoving your hands inside a Hoover, a novelty for Ginny who declared that it was very space age. Lucy was fairly sure that these inventions had reached the south-west coast but they apparently had not come to Ginny’s attention as of yet. She loved to associate anything remotely modern with the city and often said ‘city folk’ were far too ‘technological’ for their own good.

  As the two minute bell rang, they made their way into the Grand Circle to sit down. Lucy loved the murmuring chatter of the theatre, the atmosphere was always tense with anticipation as everyone took their seats, nothing to do for the next three hours except to sit back, relax and be entertained. As the curtains rose, the familiar strains of Lloyd Webber’s music rose from the orchestra and swelled up to the rafters of Her Majesty’s Theatre. Lucy was swept away.

  After the performance they headed for a nearby brasserie where Rory successfully managed to win over both Gus and Ginny with his charming repartee and courteous manners.

  ‘After you,’ said Rory, holding the door open as they made their way inside. Having been shown to their table he then helped Annie into her chair, pulling it out and supporting her elbow as she lowered herself down.

  ‘What charming manners you have, Rory!’ said Ginny. ‘You must have been brought up very well! I do love a bit of old-fashioned chivalry.’

  ‘There’s not much of that around these days!’ agreed Annie, patting Rory’s hand in thanks as she settled into her chair.

  ‘Speaking of bringing up children well, I must compliment you in return! I can’t think of a lovelier person than our Lucy here,’ he said, dropping a kiss on her head and ruffling her hair as he sat down.

  ‘That’s got nothing to do with them, I can assure you!’ laughed Lucy. ‘When you meet Ollie you’ll soon realize that!’

  ‘Oy!’ said Ginny in mock offence. ‘It is entirely down to us, thank you.’

  ‘Of course, Mum… I’m only joking!’ said Lucy. ‘Now what’s everyone having?’ she asked as she opened her menu. ‘Starters or just mains?’

  ‘I’m starving,’ said Gus. ‘Let’s have starters and mains, the whole shebang! After all we are celebrating!’

  Later, having consumed what felt like enough French food to feed a small army, Lucy realized it might be time to make a move when she noticed Annie start to go slightly cross-eyed.

  ‘Right, Mum, I think we’d best be off,’ said Lucy, nodding in her grandmother’s direction.

  ‘Darling! But we’re having so much fun!’ slurred Annie, more than a little tipsy after sinking most of a bottle of white.

  ‘A little too much fun perhaps!’ laughed Lucy.

  ‘Impossible!’ declared Rory.

  ‘Will you drop Mum at the studio on your way?’ asked Ginny.

  ‘Of course,’ said Lucy. ‘Where are you staying again? Do you want us to drop you off en route too?’

  ‘I’m treating your mother to a night at that fancy hotel down the road,’ said Gus.

  ‘Ooh la la!’ trilled Annie.

  ‘It’s walking distance, so don’t worry about us,’ said Ginny.

  Rory and Lucy set off in a taxi, taking Annie with them to drop her off on the way home. They left Gus and Ginny to have a nightcap in peace to continue the birthday celebrations. Annie was singing the phantom’s theme tune all the way home, making them (and the taxi driver) chuckle as she warbled her way to the top notes, the wine she had consumed at dinner helping her soprano voice reach new heights. It was raining again, so Rory escorted Annie inside her studio, holding his huge umbrella over her head, leaving Lucy to wait in the warmth and comfort of the taxi. Rory unlocked the front door for Annie, returning to the taxi only when he was sure that she was safely inside and settling herself in to her bedtime routine. He was so kind and patient with Annie and both of her parents, Lucy just couldn’t ask for anything more. He was a true gentleman. She was counting down the days until their trip to Dublin, where she would finally get to meet the rest of the McCullan clan.

  Irritatingly, Lucy began feeling a little out of sorts towards the end of the following week. She had packed her running kit on Friday morning, determined to run home before another weekend cosily settling in front of Rory’s fireplace, but had felt so tired and under the weather that she couldn’t face it.

  Rory and Lucy had a quiet weekend at home, taking it easy to ensure a rapid recovery for Lucy. They had started watching the hit TV show Breaking Bad on Ollie’s recommendation after a recent Skype call to Buenos Aires. The show was bizarrely compulsive viewing considering the fact that it was all about crystal meth drug dealers. Lucy and Rory became rapidly addicted, devouring each episode with a fearsome appetite, allowing themselves only intermittent breaks to cook and take Rufus out to the park.

  Lucy’s lurgy continued throughout the next week. There were plenty of bugs going around the office, Lettie and Simon had both been suffering, so Lucy popped into Boots on her lunch break and bought a tube of Berocca, determined to nip any lurking germs in the bud.

  On Saturday, they planned their trip to Ireland the following weekend.

  ‘I’ve booked us flights leaving from Gatwick on Friday straight after work,’ said Rory looking up from his laptop. ‘The neighbours have agreed to look after Rufus for the weekend.’

  ‘I’m so excited!’ said Lucy. ‘I’ve never even been to Ireland.’

  ‘You know this is our first proper holiday together?’ asked Rory as he got up to join her on the sofa where she was reading one of his old Ireland guidebooks.

  ‘I know, that’s partly why I can’t wait. But I’m just so excited about meeting your family!’

  ‘They can’t wait,’ said Rory, throwing his arm around her to pull her closer to him and kissing her on the forehead. ‘I kind of wish we were going for longer, we’re not going to have nearly enough time to do everything I would like.’

  ‘That’s okay… all the more reason for me to come again!’ said Lucy with a wink.

  Rory talked her through all of his favourite places, narrowing down a shortlist of highlights for Lucy to see on her first trip to his home. He was so excited about showing her around, and although he knew there was no way she would be able to see everything that he wanted her to, he reassured her that there would be plenty more opportunities in the years to come, so not to worry. Whenever he made reference to them still being together way into the future, Lucy felt a warm glow spread throughout her insides. She couldn’t think of anyone she would rather be with in a week, a month, a year’s time, or even longer, for that matter!

  On Sunday Lucy went to meet Tor and Claudia for lunch. She explained that she had been feeling rough all week and told the girls to stay away from her in case she had germs.

  ‘What symptoms have you had?’ asked Tor, looking quizzically at Lucy.

  ‘Nausea and a cold mainly, and I’ve felt really tired. Half of my office have got it.’

  ‘You know the nausea and tiredness could both be pregnancy-related, right?’ said Tor.

  ‘I’ve had my period!’ said Lucy. ‘There’s no way I could be pregnant… is there?’

  ‘It’s funny you should say that. I’ve just heard from a colleague that she’s twelve weeks pregnant,’ said Claudia. ‘She got two full periods before she realized, she had absolutely no idea. So I guess it can ha
ppen.’

  ‘Oh my god!’ said Lucy. ‘I’d heard of people having very light ones and being pregnant but mine was totally normal.’

  ‘I’d say it was unlikely,’ said Tor.

  ‘But I’ve been drinking this past two weeks,’ said Lucy, suddenly feeling guilty at the thought of how the drinks she had consumed might have affected a developing baby if the impossible were true, that she had been unknowingly pregnant all this time. Her heart started to race slightly faster as she processed this possibility. She didn’t know why she hadn’t thought about looking it up before, she had just assumed getting her period meant that she wasn’t pregnant, as it always had before. She felt a hot flush creep up the back of her neck. A confusing mixture of fear and excitement coursed through her.

  ‘Don’t worry, my colleague had been drinking the usual amount too and her GP said the baby would have been so small at that stage it would hardly have affected it. Maybe stop drinking now though until you do a test… just to be safe.’

  ‘Would it be safe for me to fly if it turned out I was pregnant?’ she asked.

  ‘It’s fine at this stage,’ said Tor. ‘If I were you I’d take a test and find out.’

  ‘Okay, I will…’ Lucy tailed off. Her head spun. ‘If I am pregnant, what the hell will Rory say?’ Her eyes welled up with tears at the thought of his reaction. How could she tell him? It would ruin everything.

  ‘It might be okay,’ said Tor. ‘But you’ll have to be honest with Rory. He deserves that much.’

  ‘I agree,’ said Claudia. ‘He’s a good guy, Luce. He might surprise you…’

  Lucy was pretty sure she wasn’t pregnant, but having heard the story of Claudia’s work colleague there was no way she could be certain until she saw the proof, in black and white, in front of her eyes. There was no denying it, if she was indeed pregnant, there was also a slim but equally likely chance that the baby could be Rory’s, thanks to the split condom. But the thought of confessing her predicament to him was just horrifying, she felt ashamed that he might think her desperate and stupid for having pursued the route of artificial conception in the first place. Her hands trembled at the very thought.

  On her way home Lucy popped into Boots. Spotting the aisle that housed the pregnancy tests, she made her way over to it. Despite her worry, the part of her that was so desperate for a baby began to feel a flutter of excitement. She went over to the rows and rows of little rectangular boxes. She stood there gormlessly for five minutes, staring at the selection. Eventually a shop assistant came over to ask her if she needed help. This kicked her into action and she grabbed a couple of packets, uttering a garbled ‘no thanks’ as she rushed over to the self-checkout to make her purchases. She shoved the tests deep into the bottom of her handbag telling herself that she would do one very soon, just so she could have peace of mind.

  Each morning that week she contemplated taking one of the packets from the stash in her washbag and doing a test but somehow she just couldn’t bring herself to go through with it. She told herself it would be better to do it when Rory was not around, just in case. She knew that she was being a spineless wimp but she was in such a quandary. What if she was pregnant? What would she do? This internal battle went on every morning until she decided to give up, let herself off the hook, and deal with it the next day. On Friday she even got as far as unwrapping the little white stick from its packaging, her heart pounding in her chest with nerves, before slamming it back in the box. She reasoned that it would be less than ideal to meet his family for the first time with such a big secret hanging over her head so she decided to give herself until Monday. That was the deadline, under no circumstances was she allowed to put it off any longer. To make doubly sure that she would not fail, she decided to call Tor, who had been contacting her daily to find out whether she had done it yet.

  ‘I promise you I will take the test on Monday,’ said Lucy.

  ‘Why wait until Monday, Luce?’ Tor asked. ‘Are you still feeling rough?’

  ‘I have to wait until the weekend is over until I feel strong enough to find out, once and for all. And yes, I am still feeling rough…’

  Tor wasn’t too happy about the delay. She told Lucy that if she hadn’t had a phone call by Monday afternoon with the results she would be marching over to her flat and forcing her to do it right then and there. Lucy promised fervently, telling her she would phone Claudia too so that they could both hold her accountable to her promise.

  Lucy was still feeling nauseous as she made her way to the train station later that afternoon, pulling her little wheelie suitcase behind her. As she was squeezing herself through a particularly congested tract of the Victoria line, a horrible man barged past her and shouted, ‘Get out of my way, you stupid woman!’ Lucy felt her bottom lip wobble at his acidic remark and tried to pull herself together before her eyes welled up with tears in response. She was all over the place! Thanking her lucky stars that it was the weekend and praying that she would feel better by the time she arrived in Dublin, she caught the train out to Gatwick Airport. As she watched the peaceful countryside roll by through the window her phone rang.

  ‘Hey!’ said Rory. ‘How are you getting on?’

  ‘I’m on the train,’ said Lucy. ‘You?’

  ‘I’m already here. My client meeting finished early,’ explained Rory. ‘I’ll meet you at security, shall I?’

  ‘Great, have you got the boarding passes?’ asked Lucy.

  ‘I sure do!’ he said. They were both taking carry-on luggage only, so thankfully they wouldn’t have to join the horrendously long queues that there would no doubt be at the check-in desks.

  As they went through security, Lucy could tell Rory was delighted that she was there with him. He had explained a couple of nights previously that she was the first girl since Abigail that had meant enough to him to even consider bringing back to Ireland to meet his family. This did nothing to abate her guilt about the secret she was concealing from him. She knew how important this weekend was to him and was annoyed that she didn’t feel one hundred percent well. Conflicting emotions welled within her. She knew perfectly well that it could be explained as morning sickness despite the fact she hadn’t actually been sick, more tired and run-down, and she knew that she only had two more days until she would find out and be forced to face facts.

  As they took their seats on the busy flight, Lucy blew up her little air pillow and decided to try and sleep. Rory was already engrossed in the new Dan Brown, so she didn’t have to make conversation, for which she was grateful. As she dozed off, visions of babies, pregnancy tests and the horrified look on Rory’s face if he found out she was pregnant filled her mind. She tried to push these to one side, focusing instead on imagining his family, what they would be like, what they looked like, piecing together all the snippets of conversation she had overheard, all the stories Rory had told her and the photographs she had seen of them all.

  Just an hour later the captain announced over the tannoy that they would soon be landing in Dublin. It was such a short and easy flight, nipping across the Irish Sea. The twinkling lights of Dublin sparkled in the twilight as they touched down, the plane bouncing off the tarmac before juddering to a grinding halt. They were going to pick up a hire car from Avis and then it would just be a short drive to the little village of Renwood in the Wicklow Mountains, where Rory had grown up and where Trina and Paddy still lived.

  Unfortunately, the dim light of dusk did not display the countryside at its best as Lucy and Rory wound their way through Wicklow. She tried to make the landscape out as best she could, but she knew that she would have to wait until tomorrow to really see it in all its glory. Her excitement at having arrived and being so close to Rory’s childhood home and family had certainly acted as a good tonic to her sense of fatigue, she was suddenly buzzing with excitement. Doing his best as a night-time tour guide, Rory told her when they were passing the snow-capped Sugar Loaf peak that she would be able to see from the bedroom window. Lucy loved even the very
sound of the names as they rolled off Rory’s tongue. His Irish accent seemed to have trebled in strength automatically upon touching down on home soil.

  After an hour or so, they drove through the tiny village of Renwood, turning up a long curving road that climbed uphill and soon became nothing more than a dirt track. A hand-painted sign in the shape of an arrow read ‘Renwood Farm’ amidst the peeling white paint. They followed the direction of the arrow for a while longer, the track winding around a sharp bend to the left. Suddenly the rambling farmhouse appeared before their eyes, a mishmash of stone buildings with cheery, warm light flooding out of each criss-crossed window.

  Lucy gasped in delight, ‘It’s so cute!’ she said, ‘I love it already!’

  Rory laughed, a huge grin on his face at the sight of his home, clearly very happy to have made it.

  Trina opened the front door, obviously having been listening out for the car. She cried, ‘Rory, my dear boy, you’re home!’ rushing over to fold him into her ample bosom, enveloping him in a homely hug. ‘Lucy dear, thank you so much for coming to visit us, how was your journey, darling? Terrible bore planes, aren’t they? Are you hungry? Tired? Come in, dear, come in!’ She rattled out sentences at the speed of light in her sing-song voice whilst simultaneously kissing her hello, giving her a hug, taking her bag from her hands and ushering them both into the house. Quite impressive, Lucy thought, seeing immediately where Rory got his warmth of character from, and his lovely gift of being able to put any newcomer at ease within seconds of being in his presence.

  Trina had soft grey hair that had been set with rollers and bounced in gentle curls around her cheeks. This was coupled with a broad grin and a welcoming face, all smiles and dimples.

  Lucy and Rory came into the warmth of the house; a little wood-burning range was doing a valiant job at blasting heat out into the hall. Several dogs of various shapes and sizes rushed around their feet, welcoming them with little sniffs and yaps and plenty of wagging tails.