‘But, Dad, I was happy with the choices I made,’ I insisted.
And I meant it; maybe Mum’s death had been the reason I’d put my future on hold, an excuse to stay in the bosom of my family and take the easy path through life. But maybe that was because I hadn’t known what I’d wanted out of life. Now I had found something that made me happy and that was all that mattered.
He let out a long whistling breath. ‘You don’t know how relieved I am to hear that. But listen, love, about university, me and your mum supported Evie through her studies, and I’ll do the same for you if that’s what you want to do.’
‘Wow!’ I gasped. ‘I feel like I should be standing on my own two feet by now, but that would be amazing, thank you.’
‘Really. I want you to be happy.’
I felt a lump form in my throat; I had been wondering how I was going to fund myself. My heart melted a little bit more when Dad went on to suggest that he’d give Adam and Nicky three months’ notice on his house so that I’d have somewhere more permanent to bring the baby home to.
‘I’m so lucky having you as my dad,’ I said.
‘And I’m lucky to have you and Evie and now Agnes too,’ he said softly. ‘Meeting her has opened up a whole new world.’
I smiled. ‘And meeting the Butterworths has done the same for me.’
‘Does that include this Jenson fellow?’ Dad asked with the perception that can only come with several decades of parenthood.
‘He’s lovely,’ I said with a sigh, glancing up as a clock struck five. ‘But I imagine, as we speak, he’s probably accepting a job in South Africa.’
Over the next fifteen minutes it felt like I spoke or sent messages to everyone I knew. I’d never experienced such praise in my life. I knew how Pippa felt after her success at the library; it was very flattering to be appreciated. The loveliest call was from Betsy and Marjorie who were having a day out together but had managed to work out the speaker phone function on Betsy’s special big button phone in order to both hear the conversation.
‘Ted couldn’t have done a better job himself,’ said Betsy with a tremor in her voice.
‘And I bet Jensen’s impressed,’ Marjorie added. ‘All that stuff about China; Betsy and I were flabbergasted.’
‘I haven’t spoken to him yet. And Betsy, it was you who gave me the idea of looking into it,’ I said, ‘when you mentioned about Samantha ordering our Classic Cuvée for the golf club.’
‘Do you really think it’s possible, dear girl?’ Betsy asked. ‘Could we send Butterworth wines to China?’
‘It would entail a lot of work, but it would be possible,’ I said carefully. ‘Although, I thought you were planning on selling up after the harvest? Are you thinking you might like to carry on for another year? Because if you were, I’d happily stay on.’
My heart thumped with hope; even one more year would be amazing …
‘But what about the baby?’ said Marjorie.
‘And maternity leave?’ Betsy added.
‘If Emmeline Pankhurst can do it, so can I,’ I reminded them.
I heard some hissed comments volley between the two of them but couldn’t make out the words.
‘Just spit it out,’ I heard Marjorie insist.
‘Oh bother,’ Betsy grumbled. ‘I wanted to talk to you properly about this, face to face, but seeing as it’s come up, I’ll give you a condensed version.’
My stomach twisted nervously; whatever it was it sounded like bad news.
‘Okay,’ I said with a gulp.
‘Marjorie and I have decided to buy a bungalow together,’ she said.
‘Oh, that’s wonderful!’ I said, meaning it. ‘What a great idea.’
They made a great team, they clearly adored each other; together they’d be happy and safe and really that’s what we all longed for in our old age, wasn’t it? Health, happiness and a good laugh every day.
‘It’s a new development for the over fifty-fives,’ said Marjorie. ‘All mod cons and a live-in warden, so if Betsy overdoes the sherry, help will be at hand.’
‘It wasn’t me who shot herself in the eye with a cork last night.’
I jumped in quickly to ask for more details before they began quibbling in earnest and found out that the cul-de-sac of twenty properties was still a building site but the first ones should be habitable by January. And the beauty of it was that it was only a couple of miles away from the vineyard. It sounded perfect and I was thrilled for them.
‘See, I knew she’d be happy for us,’ said Marjorie.
‘She’s just being kind, Mar, that’s all.’
I didn’t pick up on the inference straight away, not thinking through what this would mean for me.
‘You’ll finally get that new kitchen you’ve always wanted,’ I said, remembering the conversation we’d had on the day I’d moved in, just before Jensen had arrived and spun her around in the air. He’d put me in a spin that day, too; in fact, I was still spinning. I glanced at my watch again. Surely he’d be out of his meeting soon?
‘So in answer to your question, Lottie, I’m sorry, but unless Jensen should have a change of heart and decide to move back to Fernfield and take over, the vineyard will go up for sale after this year’s harvest.’
I nodded, letting the news sink in. It was the right thing to do, the only logical thing to do for Betsy. She deserved to enjoy the rest of her life without having the demands of Butterworth Wines hanging around her neck. As her sight failed, she’d need life to become as straight forward as possible. I understood that. And as for Jensen having a change of heart; I’d seen the way his face came alive when he talked about his work. He wasn’t ready to settle for the good life in the country yet.
From the depths of my disappointment I managed to smile as I spoke. ‘I’m very happy for you both and I’ll support you whatever you decide to do.’
My phone beeped suddenly and Jensen’s name flashed across the screen. I said goodbye to the ladies and opened his message:
Meet me outside Leicester Square tube station in fifteen minutes. J xx
With a nervous flutter in my stomach, I gathered my things and left the café. Had he been offered the job? And where would that leave Butterworth Wines, and me? And what about him and me? The quicker I found out the better …
I was walking behind a crowd of Italian students when I saw him and a rush of affection welled up inside me. He was leaning back against the wall by the circular red underground sign, hands thrust deep in his jacket pockets, scanning the stream of pedestrians left and right as they approached him. I care for this man, I thought. He’d got under my skin in a hundred different ways: the love he showed Betsy, his kindness towards me, the sweet things he’d said about the baby, even the passion with which he’d described his job. All these things added up to one special man and I hoped – regardless of what it would mean for me – with all my heart that he’d heard what he’d wanted to hear in the boardroom today.
He spotted me and his face broke into that wide friendly smile I’d come to treasure. He pushed through the students and grabbed hold of me, lifting me on to my tiptoes, pressing his cheek to mine and rocking me side to side.
‘You superstar,’ he laughed. ‘Lottie, you’re an absolute legend.’
I felt myself melt into his arms. The noise of the traffic fell away, the hustle and bustle of the people on one of the world’s busiest streets disappeared. It was just him and me, wrapped up in each other. I closed my eyes and breathed him in, feeling his heart beating against mine.
‘You should probably put me down,’ I said.
‘Oh crikey!’ He lowered me immediately and looked down at my tummy. ‘Have I squashed the lemon?’
An elderly man with a tiny white poodle under his arm did a double take as he walked by and we both burst out laughing.
I shook my head. ‘Not at all. And it’s the size of a pomegranate now; lemons are so last week.’
We grinned at each other for a few seconds, enjoying
each other’s company.
‘You were fantastic on the radio, so calm and confident.’ His eyes danced with pride. ‘And when you put that dickhead Devine in his place, I spat out my coffee on my desk.’
We both laughed. Someone shouted at us to get a room and we stepped out of the flow of humans towards the wall.
‘It was a risk,’ I admitted, pulling a face. ‘If he’d said he preferred the French wine, it could have ended very differently indeed.’
He shook his head. ‘I loved the fact that you were so confident that he’d prefer ours. I had every faith you’d pull it off.’
‘Thanks,’ I said. ‘But your granddad’s wine is pretty amazing, it was that I’d got my faith in.’
‘And all that stuff you said about supporting the growth of the wine industry and exporting Granddad’s products to China,’ he marvelled. ‘He’d have been chuffed.’
I suppressed a sigh. ‘There are no shortage of opportunities.’
‘You’ll be a heroine when you get back to Fernfield. I’ve already spoken to Gran and Aunt Marjorie; they couldn’t say enough good things about you.’
A look of discomfort passed across his face and I guessed they’d also told him their bungalow news. I didn’t want to think about that now. I shook the thought from my head and looked at him, daring myself to kiss away his anxious expression with a feather-light kiss to his cheek.
‘Those two are adorable. Now let’s talk about you.’ I took a step closer and held his hand. ‘How did you get on?’
His eyes flashed with excitement.
‘We’ve chosen a contractor from the sealed bids, so we can push the button on the water resilience project. All systems go, as they say. Everyone is thrilled.’
Of course they were; I mustered up a smile. ‘Does that mean you’ve been offered that promotion?’
His eyes darted away and he scratched his nose before answering.
‘Yep. Managing director of the Cape Town office. They want a decision after the weekend.’
‘Jensen, that’s fantastic!’ I threw my arms round his neck and hugged him tight. ‘Congratulations!’
‘Even though it had been implied, I can’t believe my boss has actually followed through with it,’ he said in such a calm tone he could have been talking about a new stapler rather than a fancy new job.
I peered into his eyes. ‘Why don’t I get the impression that you’re over the moon about it?’
He blew out a long breath. ‘They want me out there on the first of October.’
I stiffened. ‘That’s the date of my next scan.’
He looked at the floor. ‘I know. The date was already in my diary. I was hoping to come with you.’
My stomach looped the loop; that was just like him to be organized. I’d be twenty-one weeks’ pregnant by then. The thought of him being so far away filled me with sadness, but I wasn’t going to let it show. This was his moment to shine, the moment he’d been working so hard towards.
‘You can be ready to leave by then, can’t you?’
‘Well, I suppose.’ He looked at me sadly. ‘Although I won’t be able to help with the harvest.’
‘Don’t worry about that,’ I said brightly. ‘We can find someone else to take your place.’
‘Oh.’ His body seemed to slump a little. ‘Of course you can.’
‘But we’ll miss you. Especially me. I’ll miss you a lot.’
I glanced at my watch. I’d been planning on asking him whether he’d got time to go for a drink somewhere, but now it seemed better to leave as soon as possible; I didn’t think I could keep up my ‘I’m so delighted for you’ act for too much longer.
‘Do you have to go?’ he asked, brushing the hair from my face with his fingertip.
I felt my breath quicken as the urge to fold myself into his arms grew stronger and stronger. My head was whirling with all the things I wanted to say but didn’t dare. It wasn’t fair to say anything that might change his mind, however much I wanted him to turn down the job.
‘There’s a train in forty minutes,’ I said. ‘If I leave now, I won’t have to rush.’
‘I’m not ready to say goodbye,’ he said, his blue eyes holding mine.
I swallowed, forcing back the ball of emotion in my throat. ‘Me neither.’
‘Then stay.’ The pad of his thumb stroked my cheek. ‘Stay the night with me.’
It was all I needed to hear.
I answered by grabbing hold of his hand, leading him to the kerb and flagging down an oncoming taxi.
‘Where to, love?’ called the cabbie.
I laughed and climbed into the back. ‘His place.’
‘It’s very neat,’ I said, choosing my words with care as Jensen let me into his flat on the top floor of a modern apartment block in Farringdon. ‘And minimalist.’
‘You can be honest,’ he said, dumping his keys in a glass bowl on a glass console table in the hall. He showed me into an open-plan kitchen and living area and gestured for me to sit down. ‘I know it’s a bit boring. My previous girlfriend was a fan of owls: pottery owls, stuffed owls, candles, pictures, cushions in the shape of owls … I moved into this place on my own after we split up and relished being clutter-free. It’s become a habit.’
He put the kettle on to make tea while I kicked off my shoes, sat down on the sofa and tucked my feet underneath me.
‘I know something you could do to make it less boring.’
‘Oh?’
I patted the cushion next to me. ‘Come over here and I’ll show you.’
He didn’t need asking twice …
It was a perfect evening filled with laughter and, on my part at least, the first sparks of love. Jensen was the perfect gentleman, insisting on making up a bed for me in the spare room while we waited for our Chinese food to arrive later that night. (Despite my huge sausage and mash lunch, the adrenalin-filled day had made me ravenous.) We kissed and talked and held each other as we watched night fall across London. The conversation was light and easy and we swapped funny stories about our childhoods and our dating disasters, talked about our first gigs, our first kisses, favourite films … each of us building a picture of the other. I knew I’d remember this night for the rest of my life.
By eleven o’clock my eyelids were fluttering with sleepiness. Jensen and I were curled up together on the sofa, my cheek nestled into his chest, his hand resting casually on my hip. Jason Mraz was crooning a love song to us from the sound system and the night had become very mellow.
‘You know,’ Jensen began, his voice barely more than a whisper, ‘if you didn’t want me to accept this new job, I’d turn it down.’
I sat up, shocked. ‘I’d never put you in that position; I’m not going to be the one to keep you from achieving your goals.’
He twirled a lock of my hair through his fingers and took a deep breath. ‘There’s something I haven’t mentioned yet. I wouldn’t be entitled to any leave for six months, other than a couple of days at Christmas. It’s part of the deal and non-negotiable. By the time I’d be able to come back, you’ll have had the baby.’
A pang of sadness hit me and I nodded in agreement, not daring to speak. It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him how I felt about him, that I cared about him more deeply than I’d ever done for anyone else, that in a perfect world I’d like him to be there at my side holding my hand at the moment when this baby made its way into the world. That the thought of not seeing him for so long was too awful to contemplate. But I couldn’t do that to him. I remembered Dad’s words only a couple of hours or so ago, how he’d felt guilty for holding me back. I didn’t want that same burden. If Jensen wanted to go, he should go. He deserved this promotion and there’d be no pressure from me either way.
‘Lottie, I know it’s early days, you and me, and maybe you’ll think I’m crazy to be even thinking this far ahead,’ he hesitated and took my hand, bringing it to his lips, ‘but I’d been planning to say that if you needed anyone around, you know, when the baby com
es, I can be there. I’d like to be there.’
I stared at him. ‘What exactly are you offering?’
‘To take you to hospital, carry your bag, keep your spirits up.’ He grinned bashfully. ‘And be nothing like a second doctor at all. But only if you thought it was appropriate and there was no one else you’d rather have at your side.’
‘There is no one else.’ My throat burned with the effort of holding back a sob. ‘And if circumstances were different, I’d love you to be there in the labour suite mopping my brow and reminding me to breathe and closing your ears when I swear. But it would mean turning down the Cape Town job and I won’t let you do that for me.’
He tucked a lock of hair behind my ear, his fingers grazing my cheek. ‘If I’m going to be part of your life, and the baby’s, I’d like to be there from the beginning.’
‘Even though it’s not yours?’
He shook his head, laughing softly. ‘Even though. I’ve told you that before and I meant it; it doesn’t matter to me. If your ex was still on the scene wanting to play the father role, I might hesitate to be involved. But he isn’t.’ Jensen shrugged. ‘To be honest, I’m quite excited about it. What do you say?’
My heart skipped a beat; I wasn’t sure what I’d done to deserve this man, but whatever it was I was grateful for it. ‘How about I sleep on it?’
‘Sure.’ He slipped his arm around me and brought his lips to mine, kissing me with such tenderness that I could no longer hold back the tears. My hands wove through his hair and I felt his desire as I pressed my body against his.
‘In fact,’ I said, when we came up for air, ‘I think I’m ready for bed now.’
I wasn’t talking about the spare room.
Chapter 29
I was disorientated for a second when I awoke the next morning. And then a shimmer of happiness spread through me: I was chez Butterworth, in Jensen’s bed. Judging by the humming coming from the kitchen, he was feeling pretty pleased with himself too. I reached across to the bedside table and drank most of a glass of water; my mouth was dry and tingly from the Chinese food last night. The bedroom blinds were still closed but a shaft of light pierced the semi-darkness and landed on the ring Jensen had given me yesterday. The diamantés twinkled and the central green stone glowed beautifully. I slipped the ring on to my finger and rolled on to my back to look at it. I knew it was only make-believe, but for a moment I allowed my mind to wander and imagine what it would be like to wake up like this every day.
A Vintage Summer Page 32