‘Yeah, great, it seems. And I’ve decided to take him to the football next Sunday afternoon. Will you be okay without him?’
Imogen nodded as she got Gibson a schooner of his favourite brew – sadly, the day would probably be easier and less stressful without him. ‘That’s a brilliant idea. He’ll love it.’
He closed his fingers around the glass and took a long sip. ‘When are your friends arriving?’
‘Any minute.’ She snuck another glance towards the door and nodded towards Guy. ‘Your mate’s set up a vigil.’
Gibson chuckled, but it was only half-hearted. ‘Good for him.’
Imogen raised one eyebrow at his distracted statement. ‘What’s up?’ she asked, filling some bowls with pretzels and nuts.
‘I finally spoke to my friend about Charlie.’
Imogen paused in her task and looked up, waiting for more. ‘And?’ She always had to work so hard to pry any information out of him.
Gibson sighed and ran a hand through his hair. ‘Daniel thinks I should talk to my parents, and that we should confront Charlie together about him having preliminary dementia tests. Apparently, they can be done by a GP, and then if anything shows up, he’ll be referred to a gerontologist for a full assessment.’ He screwed up his face. ‘But how can I do that to him? I saw how upset he got when Mum suggested he move into a place where he would be looked after, one of those “communities”.’
Although he kept his voice down, Gibson became more and more agitated. He was letting down his guard, showing emotion he’d previously kept under lock and key. Instinctively, she wanted to reach out and squeeze his hand; better still, trek round the bar and hug him tight … just a friendly embrace for support and encouragement, the kind she’d give Jenna or Amy if they needed it. But her mind filled with images of the peck on the cheek last Monday night and she didn’t trust herself to do either.
She opened her mouth, choosing to offer comfort in words when a shout sounded from the front of the pub.
‘She’s here!’
Imogen and Gibson’s attention was jolted towards the door at Guy’s excited announcement. She saw the look on the man’s face – total adoration – and in that second she knew that Jenna had found the guy she’d spend her life with. Or at least as long as fate allowed. Her heart squeezed at the thought.
Jenna stepped up onto the verandah and dropped her bags, running towards her new man.
‘Aren’t you going to go over?’ Gibson took another long sip of his beer as Jenna flung her arms around Guy. Amy and Ryan entered the pub behind her, Ryan pushing a mammoth pram-shaped obstruction.
Imogen shook herself, rubbing her arms to get rid of the goosebumps. ‘Yes. Of course. Back in a moment,’ she called to Cal and Charlie as she headed around the bar towards her friends. The three of them huddled in the middle of the room as if this were the first time they’d seen each other in decades. Jenna let go of Guy long enough to embrace Imogen tightly. She pulled back and looked into Imogen’s eyes, scrutinising her.
‘You used it?’ Jenna hissed.
Imogen was momentarily confused. ‘What?’ Then she realised. The vibrator. ‘No! Shh. Later.’ She flushed bright red. It had been ages since she and Gibson had slept together – even if she still thought about it on a regular basis – but Jenna had always been expert at picking these things. For once, she wished her friend had also been schooled in the ways of tact.
Slipping out of the huddle, Imogen turned to get a look into the top-of-the-range pram. ‘How is he? When do I get a cuddle?’
‘As soon as I’ve fed him,’ Amy assured her. ‘He’s been fretting the last half hour but Jenna didn’t want to stop.’
Imogen peered down at little Gibson. He looked up at her, wide-eyed but placid. He didn’t appear to be fretting, but what did she know about babies?
‘Okay, good.’ She stepped back so Ryan could ease the pram further into the building. ‘Do you want to go somewhere quieter to feed him? There’s the office or my apartment, if you’d be more comfortable there.’
‘Thanks, that’d be great.’ Amy leaned over the pram and scooped her little man up in her arms. The smile she gave the baby before resting his down-covered head upon her shoulder was akin to the one Guy had given Jenna.
Imogen was happy for her friends and all their glee, she really was, but she couldn’t help feeling a little sorry for herself.
‘Will you be okay without me, hon?’ Ryan asked Amy as he glanced towards the bar.
‘Sure.’ Amy smiled. ‘You go chat with Gibson.’
Chat with Gibson! The directive sounded so natural, as if Amy and Ryan had known Gibson their whole lives.
Ryan didn’t need to be told twice. He dropped kisses on his baby and his wife and then made for the bar.
‘I’ll stay with Guy, if you don’t mind,’ Jenna said.
Hell, you’re already sitting on his lap!
‘Enjoy yourself.’ Amy wiggled her eyebrows at Jenna and shifted Gibson a little in her arms.
Jenna leaned into Guy’s chest and toyed with the buttons of his shirt. ‘Oh, I will.’ Her words positively dripped with wicked intent and, if it were possible, Guy’s goofy grin stretched a little further.
‘Yeah, have fun.’ Imogen forced a smile to show she meant it. Then she grabbed the rail of the pram and wove through the tables to the back of the pub. She glanced at Gibson as she passed, that strange twisting feeling grabbing hold inside her again as she watched Ryan land on the stool beside him. Perhaps it was because Ryan and Jamie had been best friends, and it felt weird to have her husband’s mate socialising with the man she’d had a fling with. Well, perhaps fling was a bit of an overstatement, but would Ryan be so keen to ‘buy’ Gibson a drink if he knew what she’d done with him?
Her heart beat fast, so fast she swore she could hear it thrashing in her ears, as she worried Gibson would let something slip.
‘Isn’t that a turn-up for the books,’ Amy said when they entered the corridor that led to the landlord’s residence. ‘Jenna smitten.’
‘Um, yeah …’ Imogen parked the pram at the bottom of the stairs and removed the enormous nappy bag which hung over the rail. She winced as she hooked it on her shoulder – what did babies have that was so damn heavy?
‘I wouldn’t believe it if I hadn’t just seen that greeting with my own eyes.’ Amy giggled. ‘For a second there, I thought you were going to tell them to hire a room.’
‘Really? Did I look that put out?’ Imogen paused before launching up the stairs.
‘I thought you were going to hit someone.’
‘Sorry.’ Sharp shots of pain stabbed into Imogen’s forehead. ‘I’m really happy for Jenna, and I’m so excited you guys are here, but I’ve got a lot on my mind at the moment.’ She slipped the key from the chain that hung around her neck and unlocked the door.
Once inside, Imogen relieved herself of the bag and gestured for her friend to park herself on the couch.
Amy said, ‘Some people thought we were crazy coming this far with a newborn baby – especially when he was premmie – but the doctor said he was fine to travel and I wanted to see you. I know you’re busy thinking about the Man Drought weekend, but you’d let me know if there was anything more the matter, wouldn’t you?’
‘Yes. I would, but I’m fine, honestly.’ Imogen smiled at her friend and forced a natural breath through her lungs. Maybe she should just tell Amy and Jenna the truth about Gibson, because right now keeping such a big secret from her best friends was eating a chunk inside her. Maybe later … when they were all together.
Amy sunk onto the couch. Then, like she’d been doing it her whole life, she leaned back, flipped up her top, unhooked the front of her maternity bra and manoeuvred baby Gibson into feeding position. She watched for a couple of minutes, mesmerised by the tiny sucking sounds.
‘Can I get you a drink?’ Imogen finally asked. ‘I’ve heard breastfeeding makes you really thirsty.’
‘You’ve no idea,’ Amy sno
rted, absentmindedly stroking little Gibson’s head as he suckled hard.
No, I don’t, and I never will. Of course, Imogen forced a smile and went to fetch a glass of iced water. Amy hadn’t meant to hurt with her comment.
When she returned, Amy was swapping the baby to the other breast. Imogen handed her the water and watched as she gulped it down. ‘How long does he take to feed?’
‘Not long, only about five minutes on each side,’ Amy told her, leaning over to put the empty glass on the table. ‘Apparently, that’s quick for newborns. Guess he takes after his dad.’
They both laughed.
When Amy’s baby fell asleep at her breast, she looked up at Imogen. ‘Would you like to change him before we go downstairs?’
Something squeezed around Imogen’s heart. ‘Yes please.’ Most people wouldn’t rush to change someone else’s baby’s dirty nappy, but Imogen wanted to be as much a part of this child’s life as possible. She’d probably never experience breastfeeding herself, never snuggle a child and know it had grown from almost nothing in her womb, but she would jump at anything Amy let her share.
Amy handed Gibson to Imogen and took everything she needed from the nappy bag: wipes, a new nappy, a tiny plastic bag, rash cream. They laid the little guy on a clean towel on the couch and Imogen carefully peeled back the two sticky strips on the nappy.
‘He’s so tiny,’ she exclaimed, feeling as if Gibson’s little legs might break as she slid the old nappy out from under him.
‘He’s grown a lot already,’ Amy stated, then added, ‘Be careful, he can be lethal with that thing.’
Only just in time did Imogen realise what her friend meant. Her reflexes quick, she had the new nappy up and over him just in time to save her uniform from getting squirted. ‘I guess we need another nappy now,’ she said when he’d finished.
Laughing, Amy retrieved one and handed it to Imogen.
‘So that’s why that bag’s so heavy,’ Imogen said, still giggling. ‘Reinforcements.’
‘Exactly,’ Amy replied, gazing down at her little boy.
‘Take two.’ Imogen put a new nappy on Gibson and scooped up the bundle of sweet-swelling baby, clutching him close against her chest and sniffing his hair. He was warm and soft and snuggly in her arms. She wanted nothing more than to curl up on the couch with him and cherish his tinyness, but Amy was eager to get back downstairs to Ryan, and Imogen had a pub to run.
‘Can I take him down?’ Imogen asked, not wanting to give him back just yet.
‘Sure.’ Amy nodded. ‘He won’t feed again for another few hours, so I might even be naughty and have a little drink.’
As they left the apartment, Imogen descended the stairs as if she were carrying the heir to a throne. Cal stopped her at the edge of the bar for a look, and even Pauli – who had never given the impression of having a maternal bone in her body – did her share of oohing and ahhing.
‘I could just eat him up,’ Cal said, leaning close and stroking the baby’s cheeks. ‘Nom nom.’
Pauli laughed dryly and poked Cal in the side. ‘You could eat almost anything.’
Finally, one of the patrons, a local farmer who was very rough around the edges but whom Imogen had learnt was all bark and no bite, hollered, ‘A bloke could die of thirst in this pub.’
Cal rolled her eyes and went to serve him, Pauli returned to the kitchen, and for the first time since coming downstairs, Imogen looked past the baby in her arms and saw Gibson. He’d migrated from his usual stool by the bar to a table in the corner where he sat, seemingly quite at ease, in the company of Guy, Jenna and Ryan.
Gibson wasn’t alone for long after Imogen went to meet her friends. Charlie ambled over and offered him another drink and even before his grandfather had rid the bottle of its top, Ryan was perched on the stool alongside him.
‘Hey mate. Great to see you again.’ He held out his hand and nodded towards the beer bottle. ‘Next one’s on me.’
‘Thanks.’ Gibson shook Ryan’s hand. For a city bloke, he had a strong handshake and his hands were rough and callused. It made him wonder what Amy’s husband did for a living. He didn’t think Imogen had ever mentioned it. Most of their conversations lately focused on the pub, Charlie, the farm or friendly arguments about the futility of her Man Drought mission.
He was actually coming round to the idea now, although of course he’d never tell her that. The way she described it, the day sounded like a B&S Ball for thirty-somethings, and he had ripper memories from his B&S days.
Gibson had begun to drift into his own little world when he heard Charlie introducing himself to Ryan.
‘Hi there,’ his grandfather said, offering his hand across the bar. ‘You the wee baby’s father, then?’
‘Yep, that’s me.’ Ryan’s grin stretched from ear to ear as he took Charlie’s hand. ‘Ryan Reynolds. Pleased to meet you.’
‘You too.’ Charlie tipped his head. ‘Charlie Black. Can I get you a drink?’
‘Thought you’d never ask.’ Ryan dug out his wallet, which Gibson noticed already boasted a photo of baby, mum and dad. He looked to Gibson. ‘Another one of these?’
Charlie went to fetch the beers and Gibson nodded a quick thanks, tearing his gaze away from the perfect picture. ‘So, how was the drive?’
‘Oh, yeah, great,’ Ryan said, snapping his wallet shut and shoving it back in his pocket. ‘It’s not really that far once you start driving. The girls were desperate to come and I’m really looking forward to having a look round your farm – if we’re still on.’
‘Uh, yeah, sure.’ Gibson had completely forgotten about the offer he’d made in the rush of the moment at the hospital. Ryan had expressed genuine interest in the farm and he’d just named his baby after him, so it had felt like the right thing to do. ‘That’d be great. Will you be bringing Amy and the baby?’
Charlie delivered their beers and then shuffled to the other end of the bar to serve someone else. Ryan lifted his bottle and pushed the other one to Gibson. ‘Nah, she’ll probably want to hang in town and catch up with Imogen. The girls aren’t used to such long periods apart.’
While Ryan took his first sip, a funny feeling washed over Gibson at the mention of Imogen. She constantly occupied his mind now, but when someone else mentioned her name, he had to force himself to appear nonchalant, when what he felt was anything but. He did his damn best to be impeccably behaved in her presence but it wasn’t easy and there were a lot of cold showers involved.
‘Did you meet Imogen and Jenna through Amy?’ he asked.
‘Kind of. We all started high school together. Me, Amz, Jenna, Im and Jamie.’ Ryan suddenly looked horrified. ‘Jamie is, um … was …’ He took a breath and started again. ‘Has Imogen told you much about her past?’
‘It’s all right,’ Gibson said. ‘It’s not common knowledge but a few of us know about Jamie. She’s a strong woman.’
‘That’s for sure. We all miss him like mad, but I can’t imagine losing Amy, can’t imagine the pain Imogen feels. Must admit we thought she was insane when she said she wanted to buy a pub, but Jamie would be glad she’s found something to focus on. Something to live for.’ Ryan went quiet for a moment, then turned slightly and nodded towards Jenna and Guy. ‘Listen, do you want to come over and join us?’
Jenna and Guy looked so enthralled with each other, Gibson didn’t think they’d either welcome or notice company, but he knew for a fact that the chairs they sat on were comfier than the bar stools. ‘Sure, why not?’ He guessed Imogen would navigate there when she returned with Amy and he couldn’t help wanting to be near her.
It struck him that his daily visits to the pub were now as much about her as they were about Charlie. But where that thought would once have scared the hell out of him, would have spurred him to make excuses and head home, now he pushed it out of his mind and picked up his beer. He and Ryan headed towards the corner table and, surprisingly, Jenna and Guy looked up and welcomed them. Gibson settled into a chair by the window a
nd found the conversation easy.
He learned that Jenna was a curator in some gallery. The way she spoke about art with such passion made him realise she wasn’t the ditzy blonde he’d pegged her as. And he had to admit, she and Guy seemed well suited. In looks they were as striking a duo as you could get, and they were already finishing each other’s sentences like an old married couple. Although, he couldn’t imagine how they’d manage if they decided to make some kind of long-term commitment. Like Gibson, Guy didn’t view farming as a job, but a lifestyle. One he’d been born and bred into, one he lived and breathed. He couldn’t see Guy packing his bags and heading to the city.
Ryan was the type of bloke who never stopped smiling. He had that easy way of making everyone he talked to feel important. He asked Gibson and Guy lots of questions about farming and almost seemed surprised when they returned the favour, asking him about his job.
He shrugged. ‘Ah … I’m just a landscape gardener. Always liked working with my hands.’
‘Do you do private gardens or public ones?’ Gibson asked, thinking that being outdoors suited Ryan’s personality and also likely accounted for why being in the country appealed to him.
Ryan began to explain, but his words died away as he looked past Gibson and his smile grew even more. On instinct, Gibson turned and his heart jolted at the sight. Not at Amy, not even simply at seeing Imogen, but at the way she walked towards them, gently swaying her luscious hips as she clutched Ryan and Amy’s baby against her chest, as though he were the most precious thing in the world.
She’ll make a brilliant mother.
He hadn’t taken a sip of his beer for a good few minutes, but he almost choked on that thought. What the fuck did it matter what kind of mother she’d make? Was he getting in too deep? Friendship was supposed to be easier than sex, but right now, it wasn’t only teasing his balls, it was taking its toll on his heart as well. He should have got the hell out of there.
Man Drought Page 26