‘But you won’t do that,’ I remind him. ‘All that bad karma, remember?’
‘I told you. I won’t have to.’
‘Come on, you’ve got nothing on her, Duncan,’ I mutter.
‘She knows that I do. Ask her. Just you ask her.’
I hesitate, looking up briefly as Scarlett comes into the room now and makes a beeline for the magazine I was leafing through earlier. He’s beyond odd, that’s for sure – but he’s right about one thing – he’s her problem. When Scarlett sees the magazine’s a pregnancy one, she drops it with a scowl and for some reason that makes up my mind for me in an instant. I’m sticking to my guns here. She’s only still here in Kent because she’s hoping to get the money from the house to carry on her work in the Amazon, isn’t she? If she thought that Duncan really could pull the plug on all that – and that he has every intention of doing so – she wouldn’t stay.
And she must stay.
‘Tell her,’ he says.
‘OK,’ I tell him calmly. ‘I’ve got to find the right moment though.’
There’s still ten days to go before we find out whether my sister’s pregnant after her second attempt or not. I’m not risking driving her away before then by exposing her to this guy.
‘Ready yet?’ Scarlett points to the swimming bags. She’s making a ‘wrap it up’ signal with her finger.
‘She’s there, isn’t she?’ His voice is suddenly wistful.
‘No, no, she isn’t.’ I put the phone down too hard, too rapidly, and my sister looks at me, puzzled.
‘For me?’
‘Just a wrong number and, yes, I’m ready to go to the pool if you are?’ I affect an air of nonchalance that I do not really feel.
Duncan is bluffing. He might think he’s got something on her, but he hasn’t. I rack my brains but he’s using her devotion to her job as a means to try to get to her, I decide. She already had all that paperwork she was waiting for through from a Professor Klausmann, I remember, and everything seemed to be in order.
There is nothing, I decide, nothing for us to be worried about at all.
Scarlett
Querida, when we spoke last night you were distant and I am left feeling confused. I do not understand. What secret are you keeping from me? Speak to me, I beg you. Gui xx
I put the phone with its text message back in my pocket and fold my clothes away in the bag to place in the locker. Hollie’s still in the changing room, taking her sweet time. I could text Gui back, I suppose. Better than speaking to him because he’ll worm it all out of me if I do and I still don’t want to tell him about the surrogacy. Silly I know, because it’s my body, my life. He isn’t in control of me. I’m just not sure how he’ll take it, that’s all.
‘Are you nearly there?’ I call to Hol through the closed changing room door. I take her muffled reply as a yes.
Oh, fuck it. I pull my phone out again.
I have no secret, Gui. My sister is ill like I told you and I’m staying on in the UK till she’s well enough to be left alone. I hope to be back with you very soon. Within the month.
That should keep him happy for the time being. No good frightening him off. I’ll make sure the pregnancy’s a go-er first.
There are a couple of messages from the PlanetLove guys too. Emoto’s just sent me a pic of him holding up one of the rarest orchids in the world – so rare it’s only been documented once before – and I feel a real pang at not being there myself.
Eve’s sent a message to say there’s a new European group who might be about to offer us a lifeline. She didn’t mention anything about my allegedly dodgy job application, which means either she’s not heard of any problems or they don’t merit a mention. Either way I feel really out of the loop right now.
I shut the phone down. Sometimes it can be really hard to do your bit, but I know I’m doing the right thing in being here at the moment. Now, where’s Hol? The changing room door is open so I guess she’s made her way down to the poolside already.
But she hasn’t. When I get down there my sister’s sitting hunched in the spectator area, still fully dressed and looking utterly miserable.
‘Hey!’ I’m on her case in an instant. ‘Come on. Just a little paddle. Just dunk a toe in. Anything. You promised.’
‘I can’t.’ Hol shakes her head.
‘You can’t, or you won’t?’
‘I wanted to try, Lettie, believe me. I know I promised you I would but…I physically can’t bring myself to get into the water. I changed into that swimsuit and then I – I changed back again, because I knew I couldn’t do it. You can’t force me.’
‘Hollie, darling,’ I tell her patiently, like you would a little kid, ‘if you’d only just try…Come on, try and go to the water’s edge this one time. I don’t ask anything more. You’re scared of what you imagine will happen, that’s all. And the more you let it go on, the bigger it gets.’
‘I know.’ She’s closed her eyes now, she’s not even looking at me. Her fists are clenched tight on her lap and her face has gone a strange shade of grey. ‘I know all that. But it doesn’t make any difference, I still can’t do it, don’t you see?’
‘No. I don’t see,’ I tell her baldly. ‘You won’t try anything new, you’re determined not to step out of your comfort zone even if it kills you…’
‘I realise I must be wearying.’ When my sister opens her eyes there’s no mistaking the pained expression in them. ‘And I want to go in, believe me I do. But trying to force me like this, it isn’t the way.’
What does she think having this baby for her is going to do to me, though? Gui’s text message right now has thrown it all into stark relief for me. After all, if he does get upset about it I’m potentially screwed, aren’t I? I’m risking it all. What is she prepared to risk?
‘Hollie, Hollie…you are a complete and utter…utter wimp!’ I throw at her at last.
‘I’m a wimp?’ she repeats softly. She turns to look at me but for some reason I can’t return her gaze. ‘Maybe now, Scarlett. But it wasn’t always so, was it?’
Hollie
‘Hey,’ Richard murmurs softly as the warm end of the quilt slips from him. He reaches out and pulls my snug body to him instead in sleepy protest. It feels as if we went to bed hardly any time ago and already the radiator is gurgling into life, warning me that it’ll soon be time to be getting up again.
6.15 am? I stare blearily at the bedside clock. I turn in towards my husband, trying to lure myself back into sleep but it won’t work. I kiss his face gently, not really wanting to disturb him but unable to stop myself nonetheless. I watch his face while he is sleeping. He’s been away for just under a week this time. Rich and his dad have been negotiating some work with a building firm that belongs to an Italian guy who Bill used to know. Rich hasn’t filled me in on all the details yet. But – I lift my face to look at him more closely – even asleep he looks preoccupied. Distant.
Was he distant last night? I cast my mind back to yesterday evening, our tenth wedding anniversary. Rich was massively contrite because he’d only remembered it at the very last minute, and had to buy a magnum of champagne from the duty-free, but I didn’t mind. Last night he more than made up for it. I grin happily. Judging by the amount of time it took before we actually got to sleep last night, I’d hazard he was pretty happy to be back with me too.
‘Penny for your thoughts,’ Richard murmurs now, his mouth on mine so sudden and warm and delicious that I’m loath to admit to having any thoughts at all. I want him to make love to me again. When we’re in bed together that seems to be about the only time we have any privacy these days. We even shared our anniversary champagne with Scarlett last night. I didn’t mind sharing the champagne, but it kind of ruined the intimacy.
‘I’m not thinking about anything much.’ Only about how much I’ve missed you, and about how unsettled things are here at the moment what with Duncan ringing and there still being over a week to go before we find out if my sister’s expecting our ba
by, and the fact that she nearly ended up having a massive argument with me in public yesterday when I couldn’t bring myself to go into the pool…
‘No?’ He opens one eye curiously now and looks at me. ‘Nothing you want to share with me?’
I consider for a bit. He’s preoccupied, I know. It’s not just the family business he’s trying to prop up on everyone’s behalf, it’s his dad’s health that’s always at the forefront of his mind, even though he doesn’t go on about it.
‘You go first,’ I offer. ‘You’re the one who’s been away for a week. Tell me all about Trieste.’
He’d been looking at me, but now he turns away, his face to the ceiling.
‘It was…more than I expected,’ he says thickly.
‘What was?’ I feel a pang. ‘The place, do you mean?’
‘Signor Bonomi put us up in a wonderful little cottage – a converted watermill, actually,’ he smiles softly. ‘You’d have loved it. It was only a little place, but so peaceful. We woke up every morning to the sounds of a babbling stream, and birds singing and cows calling – all very rural bliss. It didn’t have a garden, but there was a huge overgrown field at the back where you could keep horses or that’d be just perfect for dogs to run around in…’
‘I didn’t realise you were going out there with a view to buying a property,’ I tease gently. ‘I thought you were looking for work.’
‘Yes, of course we were. And that side of it went well…’ He opens his eyes fully now. ‘In fact, you might say, rather too well.’
I give a small laugh. ‘How so?’
‘I got the impression Signor Bonomi would be happy to give us a lot of work,’ he says carefully. ‘And it would be the kind of work my dad loves the best – the actual, out-in-the-field measuring up and assessing and surveying actual buildings, as opposed to the stuck-in-the-office chasing invoices and customers side. It’d make his life one hell of a lot less stressful.’
lt’d make it less stressful if he’d just retire, I think, but I know that’s not going to happen.
‘What’s so bad about that?’
Richard doesn’t answer immediately.
‘The work wouldn’t all be based in this country, love. It would entail me travelling more, being away more. And I wasn’t sure how you’d feel about that. Especially now we’re trying for a baby. I’m not sure how I feel about it. It’d mean sacrifices for both of us, no question about that.’
I consider his words for a moment or two. ‘Are they sacrifices you feel happy making?’ I ask at last.
‘We’d have to talk about what exactly that would mean, wouldn’t we?’ He gives me a significant look. ‘You know I don’t like the idea of leaving you for too long.’
‘I miss you so much when you’re away,’ I confess.
‘Do you miss me?’ His breath is hot and moist near my ear. He leans in and tickles my ribs suddenly, making me laugh, and I have to squirm backwards out of his reach. ‘Tell me what you miss most.’
‘Someone strong to put the rubbish out,’ I gasp from the other end of the bed. ‘Someone to fix the latch on the garden gate when it gets broken.’
‘Ah, I thought as much.’ His low voice reminds me of chocolate and for a second I get the strong urge to lean over and nibble his ear. ‘And here was me thinking that I’d hooked myself an independent woman.’
‘I still miss you like crazy when you’re gone.’ I lean into him again, kiss him softly on the lips. ‘I don’t know if I’d really be happy for you to be away so much of the time, darling.’
‘I know that.’ He pauses, measuring his words. ‘It’s just that at the moment I don’t know how else I’m going to solve this. There really is a dearth of work in the UK at the moment. I’ve been racking my brains to come up with a solution.’ He draws his face back a little now, comtemplating mine. ‘Unless of course you would consider leaving England altogether?’
‘Leaving?’ I gasp, pulling myself up onto my elbows. ‘Of course not! We can’t…I can’t leave. That’d mean leaving behind our home.’
‘We could make a new home,’ he suggests softly.
‘I thought you understood how much this place means to me…I thought Florence Cottage meant the same to you too?’ I stutter. ‘I feel really hurt that you could even suggest we should leave it, Rich.’
‘Darling, it is a house.’
‘Our home,’ I remind him. ‘Flo’s ancestral home. And I promised to keep it for her. You know that.’
He searches for my hand under the covers, gives my fingers a little squeeze. ‘I know that,’ he breathes. ‘I know you mean to stay loyal to her. And to this place and to the promise you made, but…sometimes life throws things in our way, opportunities, that can melt away even the most cast-iron of our decisions. We can change our minds. It is permitted.’
‘Except I don’t want to…’
‘Because this place has meant so much to you, I know.’ He nods his head, understandingly. ‘It’s represented security, stability. Even…an ancestral line, of sorts, because it’s been in Flo’s family for so many generations. I can understand all that. You didn’t have your parents around, so I guess the cottage has come to symbolise your roots for you instead…’
‘My parents have nothing to do with this,’ I protest.
‘Hollie, that might be just what the problem is. They didn’t have anything to do with you. They should have. They left you two girls with Florence – well, OK, your mum left you both with Florence. But let’s not pretend that’s any substitute for the real thing.’
‘Richard, the way I feel about Florence Cottage has nothing to do with the fact that my parents weren’t around. It didn’t affect me that they weren’t, anyway. We coped perfectly well because we had Flossie…’
‘Oh, Hol,’ he says feelingly. ‘How can you say that? How can you think that? I mean, being brought up your whole lives by a friend of the family, having to do without your mum and dad…?’
Outside the first threads of light are just beginning to filter in through the cracks in the curtains. I hear the downstairs door click which means that Scarlett is up, letting poor ageing Ruffles out for his morning pee.
‘I never really think about it,’ I say after a while. ‘We had Auntie Flo and that was good enough.’
‘You got used to it,’ he says feelingly. ‘But you must have wondered about your mother? When you were a kid, I mean? You must have wondered why she made the choices that she did. Maybe for you, even more than for Scarlett, that would have been a tough thing to accept?’
‘Because Scarlett hardly knew her at all, you mean?’ I can feel his fingers gently stroking the hair away from my face and the faint stab of an old sadness that I push away by putting my arms around him, pulling him towards me. ‘Well, you talk of sacrifices, Rich. Doing something that we don’t want to do because we believe that in the end it’s all for the best. Mum had put a hell of a lot of work and years into her Amazon projects. She wanted to stay behind long enough to make something of them. We all knew that. It was a sacrifice she made, leaving her children behind so she could fulfil her vocation.’
‘How very noble of her.’ There’s an irony in Richard’s voice that doesn’t escape me. ‘And how very understanding of you two kids.’
‘What do you mean?’ I give him a surprised look. ‘What’s brought all this on, anyway?’
‘Oh, nothing. It’s just…you defend her so staunchly and yet it’s not something I could ever see you doing, is it?’
‘Going to the Amazon?’ I try and laugh it all off now, nibbling softly at his ear.
‘No. Leaving your two little daughters with a family friend while you bugger off to the jungle.’
‘Rich!’ I admonish. ‘She always meant to come back. She would have. Besides, it wasn’t all that bad,’ I say defensively. ‘We did have good old Auntie Flo, and she was the best. She did everything for us, Rich. Everything that Mum would have if she’d been around.’
He lifts an eyebrow at that. ‘It i
sn’t the same though, Hol. Mums are…well, they’re mums, aren’t they?’
‘Maybe. Not all mums are like your mum, Rich,’ I remind him lowly. Christine has got to be one of the kindest, most selfless and loving people that I ever met. She’s lucky to have you as a son too, I think, because not all sons appreciate their mums as much as he does, either. Richard adores Christine. If he weren’t so attentive and sweet to me too I’d be almost jealous.
‘Hey.’ He tugs at my nightie as a sudden flood of tears swells in my eyes and rolls down my cheeks. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you sad. I love you. I love you more than anything, don’t cry. It’s just…I wish you could see, you don’t need Florence Cottage to keep you safe any more, not while I’m here. You’ve got me. We could go anywhere in the world and I’ll always be here for you.’
‘It isn’t…that,’ I stammer. The thought has hit me like the flat edge of a sword: all this talk of mums, and what are the chances I’m ever going to be one?
‘What if it doesn’t work this time with Scarlett?’ I whisper. ‘She’s not the most patient person in the world, is she? The month and half she’s been here, hanging around – I think it’s nearly killed her.’
‘She’s mercurial, I grant you,’ Rich continues. ‘That’s just Scarlett, isn’t it? But I think she really wants to help you, love. This was never going to be easy for her, was it?’
‘When I first asked her, she said no.’ I look at him carefully now. ‘Did she ever say anything to you about why she changed her mind?’
‘She changed her mind,’ he gives a low laugh, ‘because that’s what Scarlett does. You’ve always said it yourself, she’s like a weathercock, turning every which way according to how the wind blows.’
Though usually to suit her own devices, I restrain myself from adding.
‘She could do with some of your steadiness now, though, that’s for sure.’ He kisses my nose. ‘You’ve got to be the bedrock for her. Just like you’ve always been. She’ll stick it out, never fear.’
A Sister’s Gift Page 14