Reach for the Stars

by Kathy Jay

  More miserable than ever, hearing his Hollywood spiel offering a disposable marriage, she felt trapped and crushed with the weight of what lay ahead. Deeply, hopelessly entrenched, she loved him. She looked at him sadly. It was crystal clear, he wanted his baby, just the baby and he’d go to any length to get what he wanted.

  ‘We’re having a baby for all of five minutes and your lawyers are drawing up a pre-nup. Correct me if I’m wrong, but wasn’t it you who said that “sometimes the best thing to do is nothing at all”?’

  ‘It’s the obvious solution.’

  ‘We don’t need a solution. Getting married isn’t the only way forward.’ Her voice rose in a crescendo of outrage. ‘I can’t commit to sharing my life with you.’

  ‘Give me one good reason why not. Is it because you regret finishing with Joe when all he wanted was a break?’

  ‘Because it wasn’t important. You know what happened.’

  ‘Run it by me again, because it seems you don’t want to be with me and he wants you back.’

  ‘He texted from the airport to say we were on a break. I was hurt. It wasn’t what I wanted. I texted back and ended it. Does that change anything for you? It doesn’t for me. Over is over and that goes for Joe and me, and me and you.’

  ‘And the baby?’

  In Paris he’d transformed from the gorgeous man she’d fallen for into a dispassionate robot. There’d been a chasm of emptiness between them as wide as an ocean and nothing he’d said since he’d turned up uninvited convinced her that anything was different.

  ‘We’re having a baby. That’s amazing. But I’m not getting married without love and that’s final.’ As she said the ‘L’ word her throat constricted unpleasantly.

  ‘Have it your way.’ His face stony and unreadable, his voice a low growl, he added, ‘At the very least we should have a plan. There’ll be appointments to schedule. And I’d like to be present at the birth – if you don’t have any objection, that is.’ He stopped abruptly, she supposed to do a quick mental calculation, work out the dates, so that he could slot it in to his hectic lifestyle. She closed her eyes, shutting him out, breathed in and counted forward in her head to April.

  ‘I haven’t thought about any of this yet,’ she sniped, hating herself.

  ‘Will my name be on the birth certificate?’

  ‘Of course.’ Tentatively she whispered, ‘Assuming that’s what you want.’

  He softened. ‘We don’t have to make decisions yet. I’ll stay at the hotel tonight. We can talk more tomorrow.’

  Choked, she fought the desire to feel his arms close around her and the thrilling touch of his lips, reminding herself that what they’d had amounted to a supreme performance by a good actor. She couldn’t make him happy. They’d been so close and he’d smashed it to bits. Being a single parent would be difficult, but nothing compared to living with a man who didn’t know how to love.

  In agonized silence she got up, went into the kitchen, lifted the champagne from the fridge, returned to the living room, handed it to him, walked to the door, and held it open, silently inviting him to leave.

  ‘I’ll just go, shall I?’ He caught her gaze.

  ‘Go,’ she whispered, crestfallen and almost hoarse with suppressed emotion.

  He leaned down and as his face brushed hers, the way she responded to the graze of his face against her cheek nearly killed her.

  ‘See you tomorrow?’

  She nodded and her head swam. He opened his mouth to speak again. Afraid she’d cave and ask him to stay, she silenced him with a softly spoken, ‘Don’t.’

  Before she closed the door she watched him walk away, his long back straight and proud, his fair hair brushing his collar. Her heart was in her mouth and the tears that she refused to let him see stung the backs of her eyes. Fighting the intense, unwise urge to run after him, throw herself into his arms, feel his kiss on her lips, she couldn’t stop herself from calling out, ‘Nick?’

  He spun around, his face inscrutable. ‘What?’

  ‘You didn’t come all this way to deliver a suitcase.’

  Eyes emotionless, he ran a hand over his head to the back of his neck. ‘No.’

  ‘So why are you here?’

  ‘I had something important to tell you.’ He stopped, and stared absently towards the cliff path which ran up the hillside behind the old cottages. ‘It can wait.’ He searched the skyline. ‘It hardly matters anymore.’

  Chapter Thirty

  Nick stood on the bridge, contemplating the brook far below, unclear how he’d managed to ruin everything that mattered the most in the world to him. He’d overdone it with the instant marriage proposal. Joe had wound him up, made it feel like a competition, and he’d panicked. He’d said the wrong things.

  He’d been cowardly, should have come after her immediately. If he’d done the sensible thing, there was a chance she’d believe he badly wanted to be with her, he wasn’t only hell-bent on staking a claim to the baby.

  He’d lost his grasp on happiness like watching the tide go out. On the day of the shoot he’d pushed her away, convinced that ending it was the only way to go. He’d been afraid to do any differently, hadn’t trusted his feelings. When she’d said she was in love with him, he’d known he felt the same and he’d been scared, afraid to give in to loving her.

  She was his everything. He’d untangled the truth in his emotions and it was too late. He wished he’d put Los Angeles on hold. He’d wanted to do the right thing, get his life in order, come back one hundred per cent clear about not dragging her into a mess.

  Because of Layla he believed in himself in a way he hadn’t before. He didn’t want her as part of a crazy package deal – the freebie mother that came with the baby. That she thought so poorly of him cut like a knife.

  Destroyed, bitter reality pulled him apart. The unbearable loneliness of missing her was nothing compared to the desolation of hearing her say she didn’t love him. For once he believed in forever. And apparently she didn’t.

  He leaned on the railings of the bridge. He’d have to accept it, as fast as they’d fallen in love, she’d fallen out of it.

  Whizzing down the hill on his bicycle, Mervin rounded the bend in the lane and jammed on his brakes to stop on the bridge. His face dropped as he recognized Nick. ‘Well Mr La-di-da from Hollywood. What do you want?’

  Pain bit into him. Blind stupidity had made him think he could shake his image, turn his life around. ‘Hey Mervin. It’s great to see you too!’

  ‘That’s not for me, is it?’ The policeman chortled and nodded at the champagne bottle he clutched.

  ‘Your powers of deduction are mega.’ He smiled half-heartedly.

  ‘Celebration?’

  ‘I was hoping, but my luck ran out. Would you like it?’

  ‘I won’t say no if it’s going spare. As it happens I’ve got something to celebrate. I’ve asked Shelly out on a date.’

  ‘I had a feeling about you two.’

  Affection for the over-protective policeman hit Nick quite unexpectedly. He popped the champagne bottle in Mervin’s bicycle basket.

  The shock of the positive pregnancy test had sent him into an emotional vortex. He wholeheartedly wanted to be a good dad but that wouldn’t be enough, not now, not ever.

  ‘I asked Layla to marry me.’ He’d wanted their life together to start right away, not waste another minute apart. Without her love the future stretched out into nothingness. It broke his heart. ‘She turned me down. She doesn’t love me.’

  ‘She said that?’

  ‘Pretty much.’ He thought back over it. ‘I won’t marry without love, she said.’

  ‘Do you love her?’

  ‘Totally.’

  ‘Did you tell her?’

  ‘I messed up. I made her angry when the most important thing in the world to me is to make her happy.’

  ‘Sounds like crossed wires to me, more like a “maybe” than a definite “no”.’ The older man sighed exasperatedly. ‘She’s
a rare treasure that one. You’ve more chance of finding a diamond in the sand on Porthkara beach than you have of finding another one like Layla.’

  ‘Tell me about it! She’s in my head all the time. I can’t think straight.’

  Mervin got off his bike and balanced it against the railings. He put a friendly hand on Nick’s shoulder. ‘What are you going to do about it?’

  ‘Not a clue. I’m wracking my brains for a bright idea.’

  ‘Well you could start by telling her why you love her.’

  For a difficult few minutes the two men glared over the side of the bridge, the only sound the chirping of birds in the tree branches above them and the babbling rush of the stream flowing down to the sea. All of a sudden, Nick turned to Mervin.

  ‘Can I borrow your handcuffs? I need you to lock me to the bridge.’

  ‘If that’s a good idea I’d hate to hear a bad one.’

  ‘Please Mervin, trust me. I know what I’m doing.’

  Mervin studied Nick with an air of suspicion. ‘I don’t know about this, by jingo. Shelly told me you’re the twenty-first century’s idea of an action hero. There’d better not be any high jinks and no Houdini impressions. You were only two shades from a stark staring lunatic in the first place, but since there’s a chance she might say yes if you’re lucky …’

  ‘Thanks!’ he said dismally. ‘That accurately sums up what’ll become of me if Layla doesn’t say “yes” this time.’

  ‘And you’ll stay handcuffed to the bridge until you get the right answer?’ Nick nodded silently, jaw resolutely clenched. ‘Nice one. Right then, we’d better give it a go.’ Fixing one handcuff to the bridge, he secured the other around Nick’s wrist. He looked at his watch. ‘It’s getting late. What’s the plan if Layla doesn’t find you? You could be there until morning.’

  He smirked. ‘I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.’

  ‘I like what you did there. Funny.’ Mervin slapped him heartily on the back. ‘At least you haven’t lost your sense of humour. I’ll check back later and see how you’re getting on.’ He looked sceptically up at the sky. ‘It looks like rain and I can’t leave you standing there all night with a face like something that got washed downstream in a storm.’

  Striking a nonchalant pose Nick waved him off with his free hand. ‘I’ve got this.’ His heart thumped. ‘I’ll wait as long as it takes.’ He’d been so desperate for Layla’s love he’d forgotten to tell her he loved her too. He’d never felt like such an idiot.

  On the way to the bridge of lovelocks he’d made up his mind to be immune to her, no matter what. As it turned out immunity to love isn’t a thing. Still he’d hardened his heart, focused on not giving way to his feelings. If he’d secretly been hoping for a reaction from Layla to the star charm, a flicker of emotion to challenge his decision, it hadn’t come.

  He stared bleakly over the edge of the bridge. He’d covered up his fears his entire life. Love had damaged his mother, and her catastrophic breakdowns had affected him, driven him into himself. He’d strenuously avoided commitment. Confident he’d changed, Layla was the one he couldn’t turn his back on; he’d be strong and not run away, if only she’d give him a chance.

  At the cottage Shelly had come back to check on Layla. ‘I have something to tell you,’ she said. ‘Mervin’s asked me on a date, a proper one.’

  ‘What, no hiking boots? Not just quiz buddies?’

  ‘A romantic dinner at the Manor House Hotel.’

  Layla hugged her mum. ‘Go you!’

  ‘So? Any news?’

  ‘It’s positive.’

  ‘Oh my gosh. I’m going to be a grandma?’ She clapped her hands excitedly as Layla nodded solemnly. ‘I hope it’s not a secret because it won’t stay that way. Nobody can keep a secret in Porthkara.’

  She didn’t have the energy to mention that Nick was in the village and that she’d refused his proposal. She didn’t want to ruin her mum’s happy mood.

  ‘I’d better run.’ Shelly hugged her daughter tight. ‘See you tomorrow.’ She stepped through the door, suddenly hesitating on the doorstep. ‘Listen, I don’t know if you’ve heard.’

  ‘About Joe and Lainy breaking up?’

  ‘Can you believe it? Trish told me he’s back to stay.’

  ‘He’s been by to pick up his belongings.’

  Her mum touched her arm reassuringly. ‘It’s time for a new beginning.’ Shelly walked to her car, and waved cheerfully before she climbed in and drove off.

  Ophelia had fallen asleep in front of the cheerless, unlit wood-burning stove. Whimpering and twitching her legs, she was chasing a rabbit or a squirrel in her dreams.

  Nick had made Layla deeply unhappy. A strange thought crashed over her like a breaking wave. Someday, she’d read about his wedding, to someone ultra-glamorous and she’d handle it, because she would have to. She’d refused to say yes to him, yet she felt queasy at the thought of him marrying a woman who wasn’t her. She pictured their future child as a pageboy or flower girl. When the time came she’d go away somewhere remote with no wi-fi for a month of meditation and silent yoga until the fuss died down.

  Pleased that things were looking up for her mum, and determined to keep calm about the pregnancy, she decided to walk down to the beach and clear her head. She’d make an appointment at the doctor’s surgery and take it from there. She snatched the lead from its peg near the door and whistled. ‘Come on O. Let’s go.’

  Outside spits and spots of rain spritzed her face. She looked up at the white grey sky, then down at the dog. Two brown eyes stared up at her. She stuffed the lead in her coat pocket. ‘It’s only a light shower. We won’t dissolve.’ The dog barked, did a tail chasing pirouette and took off. After locking the front door, she turned to see her running down the lane.

  Suddenly she felt no enthusiasm for the beach, alone, just her and the dog. She wanted Nick with her. She couldn’t give in to her feelings, she’d be risking everything, and more than anything, she refused to put their baby through the same tense, uncertain childhood she’d experienced, fraught with unspoken truths and shattered dreams. The Layla she was before she met Nick might have crossed her fingers and gone along with his marriage proposal.

  Sense warred with optimism, certain he could find it in his heart to love their baby, but clear he was too broken to love her. The heartache ahead gave her shivers of apprehension.

  ‘Come here O,’ she called out. ‘Not that way.’ She had a hankering to go by the cliff path. Ophelia sat down, not going anywhere, apparently. ‘What’s wrong? You’re not normally this mischievous Mrs!’ She pulled the lead out of her pocket and walked towards her.

  The dog yapped, pirouetted excitedly and scurried off a little further. ‘You want to go that way, huh? Since when do you make the decisions around here?’

  She followed the dog down the lane.

  Rounding the bend, she saw a sight that sent her into every kind of confusion. Nick was on the bridge all tall, blond and handsome. His sparkling eyes made her heartbeat race. Her knees threatened to buckle pathetically.

  Ophelia, the traitor, ran up and sat beside him with a perky look of solidarity on her funny face.

  ‘One biscuit and she’s anybody’s,’ she said airily as if she’d expected to find him waiting.

  He knocked her sideways with his captivating smile. ‘I know how that feels.’ He laughed.

  ‘Why are you here?’ She sighed, struggling to resist his potent sex appeal that simply wouldn’t go away, despite everything. He stepped towards her only to be yanked backwards, drawing her eyes to his tether. ‘What in the world? Why are you handcuffed?’

  ‘I’m a lovelock.’

  She couldn’t believe her eyes. She arched a brow. ‘You fall back on performance art in your spare time?’

  ‘I plan on staying here for as long as it takes.’

  ‘As long as what takes?’ She looked down at the conspiratorial dog who gave a chipper little yelp.

  ‘As long as it ta
kes to make you understand that …’ He gulped. ‘That we should be together. I want to take care of you.’

  ‘We’ve been over this.’ She rubbed her temple absently. The promise of happiness was all around her. Her dad and Jasmine were making wedding plans, her mum’s surprise romance with Mervin. But Nick was empty of love. Summoning all her inner strength, she met his gaze. ‘I can take care of myself. I’m getting organized. My plans for Layla♥Art are really coming together nicely. I’m going to paint all kinds of creative spaces. And run workshops.’

  ‘That’s great. I’m happy for you.’

  ‘So you see, you don’t need to worry. I don’t need taking care of.’

  ‘I know that. It’s not what I meant.’

  She sent him a puzzled raised eyebrow look. ‘I take it Mervin put you up to this?

  ‘It was more the other way round to tell you the truth.’

  ‘So what’s this all about Nick?’

  He gulped, considering his reply.

  ‘Look,’ she cut in before he could speak, ‘I know we have to discuss the pregnancy. But we agreed to wait till tomorrow. A night to sleep on it will give us both a chance to get our heads around things.’ She took out her phone. ‘I’ll call Mervin, ask him to swing by and release you.’ She turned away from him, beckoning Ophelia. ‘Come on O.’ The dog didn’t budge.

  ‘Let me be with you.’

  She turned back weary and hurting. ‘You’ve got Fran and Beth to think about.’

  ‘Just so we’re clear. I don’t have feelings for Fran. What’s more, I hear she’s dating the father of one Beth’s classmates.’

  She smiled. ‘I’m guessing your source is reliable.’

  ‘Beth’s wonderful, she’s important to me and I’ll be there for her whenever she needs me, but she and her mother have a life and they don’t need me in it twenty-four seven any more now than they ever did.’

  ‘I don’t need you either.’ She turned away from him, aching with the pain of the lie. He hadn’t said what she needed to hear. Because he couldn’t say what he didn’t feel. ‘I won’t let you use the fact that we inadvertently made a new human being together to steamroller me into a life we don’t want. You can talk until you’re blue in the face you won’t convince me that it’s the best thing to do.’