How to Fall in Love Again: Kitty's Story

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How to Fall in Love Again: Kitty's Story Page 13

by Amanda Prowse


  ‘Jesus, Kitty…’ He was almost breathless. ‘Just tell me! What else?’

  *

  It was now three weeks since that night and things were understandably still strained. Kitty walked softly around the flat, trying to be quiet and make herself invisible. Angus did the opposite, slamming doors and thumping countertops, as if his mission was to create noise and mayhem, as if trying outwardly to match the turmoil that raged inside. She would never forget the way he had laughed in the immediate aftermath of her confession, as if it were a horrible joke.

  ‘You are fucking kidding me, right?’

  He had looked at her searchingly, like he was waiting for the punchline and she noted the slight tilt to his nose and the curl to his top lip, as if he was disgusted by her. It made her feel dirty. There was no discussion, no plans shared about dealing with the pregnancy. She didn’t know if the wedding was on or off; she didn’t know much. She lived in limbo, crying into her pillow each night, alone while Angus drowned his sorrows with Thomas and the boys, and she woke each day dogged by morning sickness that made her feel utterly miserable. What should have been the happiest time in her life turned out to be one of the very worst. Not that she had anyone to blame but herself.

  What did you expect, Kitty? What did you really, honestly expect?

  She and her dad talked a few times on the phone, but usually one of them was not in a position to chat, with either Angus, her mother or Marjorie lurking in the background. It made their conversations stilted, awkward and coded. She clung to his earlier observation that there were many journeys that ended somewhere glorious even when they hadn’t started that way. It helped.

  She kept replaying the moment Angus had walked from the room in silence, his reaction unreadable, his fingers balled into white-knuckled fists, leaving her curled and miserable on the sofa to ponder her options. Time and again she imagined throwing her clothes into a weekend bag and jumping on the train home. The thought didn’t scare her; in fact, in the face of her loneliness, the idea of sitting in the library with her parents and Champ as a fire crackled in the grate and her belly grew was far from unpleasant.

  Angus’s silent treatment, noisy crashing around and indifference towards her made her feel lost, alone and afraid. She talked to her baby at night, apologising for its less than auspicious start and promising that things would get better. The small kernel of life blossoming inside her was the single thing that brought her flashes of joy. She might or might not be getting married, Angus might no longer want her, and from the way her dad had mentioned her mum’s tiredness, it might even be that her mother’s mental health was once again on the slide, but as she laid her palm on her stomach in the dark of night, she felt the pulse of life and smiled.

  My baby, my child, my little one… The baby I made with Theo, my friend.

  And then one afternoon, just after she’d managed to stall the caterers, who’d called to confirm numbers for the evening reception, Angus arrived home with what could best be described as a spring in his step. His upright posture, sprightly demeanour and wide smile were almost as unnerving as the latent anger that had simmered over the last few weeks. This was altogether less predictable and therefore more chilling. A shiver ran through her.

  ‘Okay.’ He pulled out a chair at the kitchen table and sat opposite her. ‘This is how I see it.’

  She joined her knuckles on the tabletop to steady their tremble while she awaited her fate.

  ‘This has damaged us, but I love you.’ He said this matter-of-factly, but it was no less reassuring for that.

  Tears pricked Kitty’s eyes. ‘I love you too.’ Her voice was hoarse with relief. ‘I do, Angus. I love you too.’

  ‘We’re young, but we work well together. We’ve always worked, Kitty.’ He gave a tight-lipped smile.

  ‘We do.’

  ‘You messed up.’

  ‘I know. I know!’ She nodded. ‘And I’m so sorry. I am so, so sorry!’

  ‘I’ve thought about it day and night, I’ve sought advice from Thomas and others…’

  Kitty was glad he’d been able to confide in his friends. She wished that she’d had her own confidante over the last few weeks.

  ‘And I don’t want to throw away what we have, Kitty. I’ve weighed up the pros and cons, looked at how we live and how we want to live. And this situation is not insurmountable. At least I don’t think it is.’

  She nodded, willing to say and do just about anything to preserve the future for herself and her child. It felt like she was being given a second chance and she was overwhelmed with gratitude.

  ‘I mean, Christ, which of us is without a secret part of our soul!’ He sighed.

  She nodded again, not sure what he meant but in no position to enquire further.

  ‘I have conditions.’ He drummed the table.

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘I don’t know if it needs stating, but if you so much at look at another man, that will be it. Literally. It’s not about the sex so much as the lying, the deceit. I don’t want to live like that. I can’t.’

  ‘I don’t want to live like that either!’

  ‘If it happened again, we’d be divorced before you’d finished mumbling a confession. I can give you the benefit of the doubt, Kitty, but I won’t be made a fool of.’

  ‘I wouldn’t do that to you, Angus. It was one mistake, one stupid, drunken—’

  ‘All right!’ He raised his palm. ‘We don’t need to go over it again. I want you to have nothing to do with Montgomery. Nothing at all. That’s a given.’

  ‘I promise.’

  ‘I also think it only fair that we tell the child. The thought of having this hanging over us, of us continually waiting and wondering if and when it might be revealed, would feel like a sentence, and the idea of him or her growing up duped and suspicious is even worse. Everyone needs a clear identity. It’s important. So if we are going to do this, we do it openly and then it won’t be an issue. We head it off. There’s no need to go completely public, but within our immediate family circle there should be no shame. No secrets.’

  Kitty looked up at Angus with gratitude. He was displaying more maturity, sense and forgiveness than she had any right to expect. That he was so concerned for the child’s welfare was quite overwhelming.

  ‘No shame. No secrets.’ She allowed herself the beginnings of a smile. ‘Thank you, Angus. It will all be okay, won’t it?’

  ‘Yes.’ He nodded and placed his hand over the back of hers. ‘It will all be okay.’

  *

  The following morning, Kitty sat at the table in the kitchen and tapped the fountain pen on her cheek. It was a hard letter to write, the hardest. But she had to do it. Wanted to. Angus was giving her the chance of stability and Kitty knew from looking at her own parents’ situation that forgiveness and stability were the things that got you through the darkest of hours. She carried with her the fear that one day her sadness might slip over a line and become something else entirely; that she might end up like her mum. It would be the steadfast, predictable life she had with Angus that would get her through that. She flipped open the top sheet of the Basildon Bond notepad and gripped the pen, liking the flourish of blue ink on the paper.

  My dearest friend, Theo.

  She scratched through and tore off the sheet, starting again.

  Oh ,Theo, this is a hard, hard letter for me to write.

  And again.

  Theo, I am so scared, so nervous, but feel I owe you at least this.

  Finally, she settled into the writing and tried not to overthink the words. With a racing heart, she watched the fountain pen dance across the page.

  Hello Theo,

  I hope you’re still at this flat. I have thought long and hard about whether to write and what to write, so here goes.

  It was an unexpectedly joyful day when I last saw you. It was a day of escape and I want you to know that I have never done anything similar before or since. I hope you believe me when I tell you that it was spec
ial for me. I know how that reads and we both know that alcohol was the catalyst, but there are very few people on earth I trust in the way I trust you, Theo.

  Theo, oh Theo…

  I’m pregnant.

  I can only imagine what it’s like for you to read these words. Perhaps it feels the same as it did for me when I found out.

  I thought you deserved to know. It is yours. I want to keep this baby and I’m still figuring out how to make it all work. The one thing I do know is that this is not the path for us, for you and me. We are not those people. I’m marrying Angus soon, in a few weeks, and he is aware. It’s been horrendously difficult for us both. For this reason, I think it only fair that we have no further contact. If our paths should ever cross, please respect my wish for us to never mention this. I beg you, Theo. This is the only way I can build a life. Please.

  I say goodbye now.

  Your friend,

  Kitty X

  She placed her head in her hands and sobbed, picturing the handsome, sensitive man who had recited poetry to her across the tabletop and who had taken her on the most delicious physical journey. But she didn’t really know Theo; their history wasn’t enough to justify throwing away the chance of happiness that she had with Angus, who had done something quite wonderful and forgiven her.

  Kitty dried her eyes and placed her hand on her stomach. It was time to put thoughts of Theo Montgomery out of her head and concentrate on making a success of her life with the man she had been with since she was young.

  That was it: no shame, no secrets.

  *

  ‘So, are you nervous?’ Hamish asked as he pulled the Land Rover off the motorway.

  Coincidentally, Kitty felt a rush of butterflies. ‘I don’t know.’

  He laughed. ‘How can you not know?’

  She turned in her seat to face her cousin, who had kindly offered to drive her up to Darraghfield from London. They were well practised at travelling this route, as ever stopping only a couple of times for coffee and food and to take a quick nap in their seats. Angus was driving up separately, with Thomas, his best man, and Ruraigh was going up by train with Tizz, for which Kitty was thankful. The rift between her and Ruraigh, though healed on the surface, had left a deep scar that needed more time to knit. He was as cool about the wedding as he had been over their engagement and it maddened her. Gone was the easiness between them and in its place a new wariness, invisible to others but glaringly obvious to her. It bothered her that her dad might get wind of it; he had enough on his plate and would be hurt to think they were anything other than the best of friends.

  She looked over at Hamish. ‘I don’t know if what I’m feeling is wedding nerves or general excitement or morning sickness. I keep thinking of all those people looking at me and I feel a bit sick about that, and I’m worried about Mum, of course…’ She knew she didn’t need to elaborate. It was, however, a wonderful relief to have her pregnancy out in the open, to be able to discuss it without fear or embarrassment. She had told them all that the baby was Theo’s, with the final message being that if she and Angus could handle the fact with grace and tact, then so could they. As Angus had predicted, once everyone knew, the whole situation felt far easier to bear.

  She’d still found it difficult to tell her father, though, embarrassed to have to inform him that the daughter he adored had well and truly fallen off her pedestal. Despite the challenges in their own marriage, she knew that her parents would never so much as contemplate being unfaithful; it was just something they would never do. But when it came to it, her dad had been characteristically generous and non-judgemental, talking only about how he couldn’t wait to meet his grandchild and what a super mum Kitty would be, helping her to navigate the situation in the way he knew how. Kitty had never loved him more.

  Angus’s mum, however, had not taken it well. Angus had broken the news over the phone, and Kitty had listened through the kitchen wall. ‘Who cares what Reverend Smithson thinks, Mum?’ he’d said tersely into the handset. ‘It’s none of his business anyway.’ Kitty’s face had flushed a deep red; though Angus rarely saw his parents, he was touchingly concerned about making them proud of him, and now she’d been responsible for tarnishing their son’s image. There wasn’t Tupperware box big enough to contain that sort of faux pas.

  Hamish kept his eyes on the road but gave a small nod. ‘Well, you will look just fine, and Fenella is doing great. Uncle Stephen will be right by her side and he’ll not let her struggle, wedding or no wedding. As for that baby, it doesn’t know that today or tomorrow is different to any other, so you can just let him be.’

  ‘Or her.’ She smiled and rubbed the small, welcome roundness to her belly. She and Angus were steady. They both agreed that this baby when it arrived would be loved and would love them in return and that was all that mattered. She was so thankful, ignoring the uncomfortable thought that niggled at her in the early hours, that she was somehow beholden to her fiancé, that his benevolence might come at a cost.

  ‘I reckon it’s a boy.’ Hamish grinned. ‘I have big plans afoot for a miniature rugby kit. With enough coaching, we could end up with a future Gavin Hastings on our hands.’

  She laughed, happy that her cousin was taking such an interest in her child. ‘I do love Angus.’ She felt a wave of something close to relief that this day was happening at all.

  ‘Well, that’s a good job!’ He chuckled.

  ‘I love him, but I don’t know how well I know him – does that make any sense? Even after all this time. Sometimes—’

  ‘Sometimes what?’

  ‘I don’t know… I suppose sometimes I feel a bit like he’s holding back, and I don’t want him to, I want him to be himself completely with me.’

  Hamish took his time answering. ‘Well, even though you’ve been a couple for ever, you’ve only been together as grown-ups for a wee while and I guess you’re both still getting to know yourselves as well as each other. But that’s okay, Kitty. The three of you will all grow up together. You have all the time in the world to get to know each other. As a couple, you’ve already had to face more challenges than most.’ He glanced at her stomach. ‘And I have known you my whole life and I know that he can only discover how great you are.’

  ‘Jesus Christ, Hamish, what is wrong with you? This isn’t another tearful moment, is it?’ She shrieked her laughter, hiding the emotion that flared within.

  ‘I cried once! Once! And who didn’t cry at Kramer Vs Kramer? Are you ever going to let me forget it?’

  ‘No, probably not. I love you, even if you are a big softy.’

  Hamish tutted and looked out at the road ahead. He punched the radio on and the strains of ‘Cracklin’ Rosie’ filled the car. Far better they sing along than give in to that emotional, mushy stuff they were so bad at.

  *

  The house and grounds looked beautiful, lovelier than she had ever seen them. Patrick and her dad had worked hard and the gardens were as neat as a pin. The large terracotta planters, usually studded with the twigs of dead plants, were overflowing with variegated ivy and specially imported bright red geraniums. The front gates and iron fencing of Darraghfield had been give a new coat of glossy black paint and every window sparkled. Even the gravel had been raked and picked free of weeds.

  Champ raced out to meet the car, barking his greeting.

  ‘Hello, boy! Hello, you!’ Kitty bent down on her haunches and let the dog sniff her hair as she petted his muzzle. ‘I bet you are wondering what all this fuss is about!’

  ‘Hamish!’ She looked up in time to see her dad wrap his beloved nephew in a warm hug. ‘Good journey, son?’

  ‘Not bad. She spoke the whole way – I’ve got earache!’ He jerked his head in her direction.

  ‘Let me look at you.’ Her dad walked forward and gave a small shake of his head. ‘My baby is having a baby. How is that even possible?’

  ‘I don’t know, Dad.’ Instinctively she placed her hand on her bump.

  ‘You look wonder
ful.’ He reached forward and kissed her tenderly on the forehead. She knew this was a gesture of understanding, an acceptance of her situation, and she was grateful for it.

  ‘Where’s Mum?’ She looked over her dad’s shoulder, half expecting her to pop up. She remembered coming up with Angus when they’d first got engaged and her mum standing in the garden, bossing everyone around. Kitty had loved it.

  ‘She went for a wee rest after lunch. We’ll give her a shout in a bit. She’s dying to see you.’ He winked, trying for jovial, but Kitty caught the slight twitch to his left eye. He never could lie to her.

  ‘Oh, here she is!’ Marjorie ambled from the house, moving her arms as if she was running, even though her feet were doing little more than a shuffle. It made them all chuckle.

  ‘Oh, a baby! A baby!’ Marjorie reached into her pinny pocket for her handkerchief and blotted her nose and eyes. ‘It’s amazin’!’

  ‘Thank you, Marjorie.’

  ‘And don’t you let anyone be telling you that you are putting the cart before the horse. I mean, your wedding was booked and this baby will be born in wedlock. That should be well enough for those to whom these things matter.’

  Her dad rolled his eyes and Kitty’s thoughts turned to Angus’s pinched-faced mother to whom these things mattered a lot.

  ‘Can I see my cake?’ Kitty rubbed her hands together, excited.

  Marjorie took her by the hand and led her into the hallway and through to the dining room.

  ‘Oh my goodness! Oh wow!’ Kitty stared at the three-tiered monstrosity that listed to the left. It was covered with mismatched blobs of icing that made for a lumpy surface. ‘Marjorie!’ she said enthusiastically, stalling for time, trying to think how to phrase the necessary in the most genuine way possible. ‘You made this? For me?’

  ‘I did.’ She nodded proudly. ‘With royal icing that was a bugger to work with, and all the fruit has been properly steeped in whisky. Do you like it?’ She looked at Kitty expectantly.

  ‘Marjorie, I have never loved a cake more!’ That was the truth.

  Marjorie’s smile spoke volumes. ‘I knew you would. All we are missing is the wee bride and groom to put on the top, which Patrick has ordered for me and he assures me they will be here by nightfall.’

 

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