Caroline Anderson, Josie Metcalfe, Maggie Kingsley, Margaret McDonagh

by Brides of Penhally Bay Vol. 03 (li

  ‘I only tickled him back,’ Sophie said, her eyes flooding with tears, and Mike reached out and tucked her under his right arm, well away from the damaged ribs, and kissed the top of her head as she burrowed into him, sobbing heartbrokenly.

  ‘It’s OK, sweetheart, don’t cry, I’m fine,’ he said softly. ‘It wasn’t you, it was because I jumped. You didn’t hurt me.’

  Her head came out from his side and she stared up at him soulfully. ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘I’m sure. Come here.’

  So she snuggled back into his side and, reaching out her hand, caught hold of Fran and tugged her over, pulling her into the cuddle, too.

  ‘That’s better,’ she said, and for a few minutes they all lay there quietly until Sophie’s natural ebullience returned. ‘So—what are we going to do today? Can we go to the beach?’

  ‘Not while your dad’s got his cast on,’ Fran said, saving him from having to tell her. ‘Anyway, we’re doing something much more exciting. We’re going to see Ben and Lucy Carter, just down the road at Tregorran House, and they’ve got a little baby girl called Annabel. I expect you’ll be able to play with her.’

  Sophie wriggled round and looked up at Fran, eyes sparkling. ‘Is she very new?’

  ‘Not very. She was born on Christmas Eve, but she’s still pretty tiny. She can’t do a lot, but you can play peep-bo with her and teach her how to play with her toys, I expect.’

  ‘Can I hold her?’

  ‘I don’t know. Maybe.’

  ‘That means no,’ Sophie said with an exaggerated sigh.

  ‘No, it means maybe,’ Fran reiterated, ‘and it depends on Lucy.’

  ‘That’s not till this afternoon, though,’ Mike put in, ‘so what do you want to do this morning?’

  ‘Go riding,’ Sophie said promptly. ‘Can I? Please? Mummy said you might let me.’

  Mike met Fran’s eyes. ‘Got any other plans?’

  She shook her head. ‘No. I’ve got things to do here, like picking up the eggs and mucking out the chickens, and they might need a hand in the farm shop, but if I get up early and get on with it—since I already seem to be awake,’ she added, wriggling her fingers into Sophie’s ribs and making her giggle, ‘I might as well get on. Why don’t you two have a bit of a rest and make some breakfast for me? And by the time you’ve done that, I’ll have finished with the chickens. And I’ll take Brodie with me, she could do with a bit of a run. It might be late enough then to ring the stables and see if they can fit you in.’

  They could, and they set off at a quarter to eleven, Sophie fizzing with excitement. They turned into the stableyard and pulled up, and she was out of the door and hopping from foot to foot with impatience while Mike sorted out his crutches.

  ‘Come on, you, hold my hand and let’s go and find Georgina,’ Fran said to her, and Sophie slipped her hand into Fran’s and all but dragged her over to where a few fat little ponies were tied up to a rail by the stables. Children were milling around them, brushing and fussing over them, and the ponies stood patiently and tolerated it with what Fran felt was very good grace.

  ‘Hi, Sophie, haven’t seen you for a while,’ Georgina Somers said, coming over and smiling at them. ‘You’re looking well, unlike your dad—he’s been in the wars, hasn’t he?’

  ‘He broke his leg,’ Sophie said, a little unnecessarily as Mike hobbled towards them in his cast, leaning heavily on one crutch and grinning.

  ‘Really?’ Georgina teased, then flashed a smile at Mike which might have made Fran jealous if she hadn’t been loved so very thoroughly by him the night before. ‘The wounded soldier. I heard about your accident. Good to see you up and about.’

  ‘Good to be up and about. They gave me a walking cast the other day—it’s so much better, but I must say I’m a bit scared about my toes. I’m used to steel toecaps, and I feel a bit vulnerable.’

  ‘Mmm. I did when I broke my leg. Right, Sophie, let’s get you a hat sorted out and then pop you up on your pony. You’re riding Bracken today.’

  ‘Oh, goody, I love Bracken! He’s really nice.’

  ‘She says that about every one of them,’ Mike murmured as Georgina took Sophie to get her hat. ‘She’d love us to buy her one—that’s the trouble with bringing her here, we’ll have nothing else for the rest of the week, and there’s no way she’s having a pony part time, it just isn’t fair. Apart from anything else, I’ve got more than enough to do without pooh-picking and grooming and changing rugs and so forth, and that’s never the end, is it? There’s always another one, and then another one, because the first is too small and then the next one will be lonely and then you can’t get rid of the old one and it just goes on. I know so many farmers who’re overrun with their children’s first ponies and they just can’t get rid of them.’

  Fran chuckled. ‘Sounds to me like a done job,’ she teased, but he shook his head.

  ‘No way, Fran. To tell you the truth, I don’t really like her riding. It’s dangerous, and the odd ride from time to time is OK, but all the time? She’s only six—it’s too risky. So I’m just going to keep saying no to her own pony and letting her come here instead. She’s too precious to us.’

  She was. Fran watched her skipping out of the tack room in a body protector and a hat with a shocking pink silk cover on it, looking utterly delectable, and she felt her eyes fill.

  ‘I have to keep her safe, Fran,’ Mike said, and she heard the little catch in his voice.

  ‘Don’t worry. I’ll back you up.’

  His hand found hers and squeezed. ‘Thanks.’

  The lesson passed without incident. Well, more or less. One little girl ended up on her bottom in the sand school, but she was all right and got up laughing, and another ended up in tears because her pony ran off with her and wouldn’t stop, and a boy wanted to change ponies because his wouldn’t go, and Georgina refused and told him that when he gave the pony the correct cues, it would understand. And of course, eventually, when he got it right, the pony trotted forwards nicely and Fran suppressed a smile.

  ‘Know him?’

  ‘Oh, yes. I know most of them. He’s a bit of a bully. It’s nice to see something big enough and stubborn enough to beat him. Take him down a peg or two. It’ll do him good.’

  ‘OK, everybody, that’s it now. Give your ponies a nice big pat and take them back out and tie them up. Well done, all of you.’

  Georgina opened the gate, and the ponies filed out.

  ‘That was so cool! Daddy, can I have a pony? I really, really want one!’ Sophie said, the pleading starting before she’d even dismounted, and Mike rolled his eyes at Fran and gave a hollow laugh.

  ‘Kids,’ he said under his breath. ‘Do we really need another one?’

  Fran stopped in her tracks, and after another step Mike came to a halt and turned back to her, his face stricken.

  ‘Oh, hell, Fran, I didn’t mean that! Darling, I’m sorry.’

  ‘It’s OK,’ she said, struggling to find a smile. ‘I know it was a joke.’

  ‘No, it was a stupid, thoughtless remark—I’m so, so sorry, Fran. I don’t know what I was thinking about.’

  She shook her head. ‘Not here, Mike. Not now. I’m fine—really. Just let it go.’

  But it put a dampener on the drive back and, while Sophie chattered happily about the pony and how she wanted one of her own and what she was going to call it, Mike stared straight ahead, and Fran tried to concentrate on driving and wondered just how much of a joke it really had been, and how much he’d meant it.

  Many a true word is spoken in jest, she thought. Maybe he really doesn’t want another child after all and he’s just playing along with me out of pity? It would explain the way he’d kept his distance all these last months, and although he’d said it was because he was afraid of getting her pregnant again, that he couldn’t bear the possibility of her having another miscarriage, maybe that was just an excuse, something legitimate he could use to hide his real feelings behind.

  They
got back to the farm, and Joy was just coming out of the farm shop as they pulled up.

  ‘Grannie!’ Sophie yelled. Sliding out of the car, she ran over to her grandmother and started telling her about her riding lesson.

  Mike opened the car door and swung round, eased himself out and hobbled over to his mother. ‘Are you busy?’

  ‘No, not at all. Why?’

  ‘Just wondered if you’d like to spend a little time with Sophie—who, incidentally, knows she’s not having a pony of her own, so don’t let her try and talk you round—while I have a bit of a rest? And Fran’s got some things to do, so if you don’t mind?’

  Fran watched them, heard his words, saw his mother nod agreement and look up, meeting her eyes with concern.

  ‘Is everything OK?’ she was asking, but Fran couldn’t take any more. She turned away and, locking the car, went into the house, leaving Mike to follow her.

  He couldn’t believe he’d said that.

  Of all the crass, stupid remarks!

  He limped into the house, calling her name, and found her eventually in their bedroom, stripping the bed with fierce concentration, her movements almost savage. He went over to her, took her hands in his, held them against his heart.

  ‘Frankie, talk to me.’

  ‘No, you talk to me,’ she cried, wrenching her hands away and stripping off the pillow case with enough force to tear it. ‘You tell me what you really feel, what you really want. Because I thought I knew, and then I suddenly realised that maybe I didn’t know at all, maybe you don’t really want a baby with me despite all the stuff you’ve said over the last few days, and I have to know, Mike,’ she said, throwing down the pillow with a ragged sob. ‘I have to know!’

  Her eyes were filled with tears, and with a rough sigh he hauled her up against his chest and hugged her tight. ‘I want a baby,’ he said emphatically. ‘I want your baby. Our baby. And what I said was just a knee-jerk reaction to kids in general, and nothing to do with us. I know it was stupid, but I thought—Frankie, I thought we’d sorted this out? Thought you knew how I felt. Of course I want a baby. You know I do.’

  ‘No, I don’t, Mike,’ she said, her body still and unresponsive in his arms. ‘I really don’t, not any more.’

  ‘Oh, God.’ He sighed, and let her go, frustration at his stupidity making him want to scream. He paced away, then turned back to her, scrubbing his hands through his hair. ‘How can I prove it?’ he asked desperately.

  ‘Let me try again,’ she said. ‘I know you said you couldn’t bear the thought of me having a miscarriage, but it isn’t you that has to bear it. It’s me. So let me. Or, at least, let’s think about it, because for the last few days we haven’t talked about it at all, and I want to, in the context of our relationship now. Not what it’s been, but what it is now. I know you love me. I know you want me. But I need the truth from you about this, Mike. I need to know that you really, really want a child with me, not that you’re just going along with me, humouring me. Indulging me.’

  ‘I’m not,’ he said instantly. ‘Never. I want a baby with you, Fran. I’ve said it over and over again. I know what it means to you, how it’s tearing you apart, but it means a lot to me, too. It’s not just for you. I want a child as well—a child who’ll live here with us, a child to share every moment of our lives, not just the odd weekend. I adore Sophie, and I wish she could be here with us more, but if I’d stayed with Kirsten I would have wanted more children. Sophie shouldn’t be alone, and this house needs kids, Fran. Either ours or somebody else’s. And if we can’t have a baby of our own, then I’d like to adopt one—or more. Maybe disabled in some way, a child nobody wants. Not necessarily a pretty little baby but a real person with needs that maybe, with enough love, we could meet. The farm’s a wonderful place to be a child, and nature has a way of healing all sorts of hurts. This would be a good place to let that happen.

  ‘So, yes, I do want a child. With you. And I’ll do whatever it takes, for as long as you want to try. And failing that, I’d like to adopt, because I want to be a full-time father. I love being a father. It’s part of who I am, and I want to share it with you. Does that answer your questions?’

  She stared at him, then gave a scratchy little laugh. ‘Pity I wrecked the bed,’ she said, ‘because I could just do with lying down in it with you and having a really big cuddle.’

  ‘Oh, you idiot,’ he said, his voice cracking. Limping quickly back to her, he grabbed the pillows off the floor, shoved the quilt out of the way and lay down, pulling her down after him. ‘Come here,’ he said gruffly. Wrapping his arms round her, he sighed deeply and pressed a kiss to her forehead. ‘I’m sorry,’ he murmured. ‘Forgive me?’

  She tilted her head back and smiled. ‘I forgive you. Actually, I more than forgive you. Maybe I need to push you more often, because you get really honest then, and tell me all the things you’ve been keeping to yourself. Like this adoption business. How long have you been thinking about that?’

  He shrugged. ‘I don’t know. Ages. Years, probably. Since I married Kirsten.’

  ‘Then let’s do it. If I have a baby, great. If I don’t—well, we’ll do as you said. Maybe do it anyway.’

  He looked down at her, saw new determination in her eyes and kissed her. ‘One thing at a time,’ he cautioned, and she smiled.

  ‘It’s all right, Mike,’ she said. ‘You won’t wake up one morning and find we’re running a children’s home, but it’s something to think about. Something for the future.’

  She settled her head down on his chest. ‘Now go to sleep. We’ve only got a short time before we have to get ready to go to the Carters’.’

  ‘Seems a shame to waste it,’ he murmured, and she lifted her head again and looked up at him.

  ‘Are we making up for lost time?’ she asked.

  He chuckled. ‘Is that a problem?’

  ‘No problem,’ she said, and kissed him.

  The baby was gorgeous.

  Sophie was captivated, and when the men wandered off to look at the fields, Fran asked Lucy if there was anything she could do to help and ended up with Annabel in her arms.

  ‘Oh, that’s better. She can pull your hair instead of mine,’ Lucy said with a laugh, kissing the baby’s nose and making her giggle deliciously. She clapped her chubby hands in delight, and Fran caught one of them and blew a raspberry on it, making her giggle even harder.

  ‘I want to blow a raspberry,’ Sophie said, and Fran crouched down so Sophie could reach, and the baby giggled again and grabbed Sophie’s curls.

  ‘Ouch!’ Sophie said with a laugh, gently pulling her hair out of Annabel’s fingers. She danced over to Lucy and said, eyes sparkling, ‘I’m going to have a baby too!’

  ‘Oh!’ Lucy spun round, her eyes also sparkling, and said, ‘Oh, Fran, that’s so lovely, because so am I! When’s yours due?’

  Oh, lord. ‘Um…it’s not me, it’s Kirsten—Sophie’s mother,’ she explained, wondering if everything today was going to be destined to floor her, ‘but congratulations! That’s really lovely for you.’

  ‘Oh, well—it’s a bit quick. Fran, I’m really sorry,’ she added, her eyes conveying her regret.

  ‘It’s a shame it’s not you and Daddy,’ Sophie chipped in, looking up at her with wistful eyes. ‘That would have been so nice.’

  Wouldn’t it just? Fran thought, and banished it. She was going to enjoy herself this afternoon. One thing at a time, Mike had said, and she was starting now, having a lovely cuddle with little Annabel to fill her achingly empty arms.

  ‘But perhaps you could have one too,’ Sophie went on, as relentless as ever. ‘Daddy said maybe one day, so maybe it could be a soon maybe instead of a never maybe. He usually means never, though. Like the pony. He said maybe once, when I was four, but now he just says no.’

  Lucy laughed a little awkwardly. ‘I think a baby’s a bit different, Sophie. I’m sure Fran and your father will have a baby when it’s right for them.’

  ‘What if it’s n
ever right?’

  ‘Then you’ll have your mother’s new baby anyway,’ Fran pointed out. ‘And, like your father said, it might be nice to come to us and have a bit of peace.’

  Lucy rolled her eyes. ‘Amen to that,’ she said fervently. ‘This one still doesn’t always go through the night and by the time she does, I expect I’ll have the other one.’

  A shadow fell across the room, and Mike and Ben walked into the kitchen.

  ‘All right, girls?’ Mike asked, scanning their faces and picking up on the atmosphere.

  ‘Fine,’ Fran said.

  But then Sophie opened her mouth and said, ‘Guess what, Daddy? Lucy’s having another baby!’

  ‘So—what do you think about the fields, Mike?’ Lucy asked.

  They’d finished eating, Annabel had been put down for a nap and Sophie was standing on the other side of the track, talking to Amber through the fence. The adults were all sitting round in the shade, sipping a nicely chilled rosé.

  ‘Oh, I think we should be able to do something,’ he said, very conscious of the need for money so they could afford another IVF cycle, and yet wondering how they could possibly charge the Carters the going rate for a bit of land that was little more than useless to the farm.

  ‘You’re having a fit of conscience,’ Ben said astutely, narrowing his eyes. ‘Don’t. We want it, you’ve got it—it’s called supply and demand, Mike.’

  ‘I think we need an independent valuation,’ he said, wondering if he was shooting himself in the foot and if they’d end up without the land and with not enough money to do anything. Not that losing the land mattered, because the bit the Carters were most interested in was essentially worthless to the farm. And that was the problem, of course. Oh, damn.

  ‘I’ll get the auctioneer who sold us the house to have a look, shall I?’ Ben said. ‘Unless you’ve got a better suggestion?’

  ‘No, he’s fine. He’s the man, I would have said.’

  ‘Well, we’ll do that, then,’ Ben said, picking up the wine bottle. ‘Top-up?’