by Pamela Fudge
Jon had always been the one to take care of contraception, which was odd, given the facts. I’d just always assumed that it had been his way of convincing himself that his fertility wasn’t really in question – despite the low sperm count verdict we’d been given. If I was honest, though, we hadn’t always been ultra careful over the years since Will’s birth but then, I reminded myself, neither had we been putting any real effort into conceiving a child. That was definitely about to change – in fact it already had, I acknowledged and smiled.
‘Penny for them,’ Jon said, spearing a scallop onto his fork and popping it into his mouth.
‘I was just thinking,’ I told him, not altogether truthfully, ‘that for us, under the circumstances, oysters would probably have been a more appropriate choice of starter.’
‘Oysters?’
I just stared at him, raised my eyebrows and rubbed my foot against his leg under the table.
‘Oh,’ he grinned and leaning closer whispered in my year, ‘that’s where you’re wrong because you’re the only aphrodisiac I need, woman, you look good enough to eat, yourself. In fact, if we weren’t staying with friends I would suggest skipping the show and...,’ he leaned close and whispered in my ear just what he would like to be doing, and sooner rather than later.
I shivered deliciously and, slipping off my shoe, I pushed my foot up to caress the very satisfying bulge in Jon’s groin. I watched the bright blue of his eyes darken with desire, his lips curve into a surprised smile that lifted my heart. We had rarely been this passionate, this playful but, I made myself a promise, that too was about to change.
Anticipation itself was an aphrodisiac we discovered, as we shared the food on our forks during the remainder of the meal, and then secret little touches and glances full of promise during a show of which we took in very little. Back at the house we somehow resisted the strong desire to rip each other’s clothes off, instead taking our time and finding mutual and very deep satisfaction before falling asleep in each other’s arms.
Back at home, the days that followed were, without doubt, the happiest of our entire marriage because not only were we enjoying our son, but appreciating each other, too. When we weren’t working, the time we spent together was pure quality with magical moments that stood out from the rest.
The first of these was the surprise that Jon had organised for our wedding anniversary – without any prompting from me. I suspected nothing when Tina said she was coming down to take me out for a special lunch on the day – because Jon had to work.
‘I want you to wear something extra-special,’ she ordered, ‘because we’re going to the Grand Hotel and you know how exclusive it is there. Ripped jeans and flip-flops are out. Wear that lovely cream dress we bought when you came up to London.’
I personally thought that particular outfit was a bit over-the-top for lunch, even at the Grand Hotel, but I was so pleased to be seeing Tina and enjoying her company that I didn’t object. I also thought the welcome we received when we arrived at the hotel was a bit effusive – after all, we were hardly regulars and we definitely weren’t celebrities.
I was almost sure the dining room was in a totally different direction to where Tina was ushering me, but before I could query it, a bunch of flowers was thrust into my hand just as a door was opened in front of me and I was swept inside. To my astonishment Jon waited there with William by his side, both were suited and booted in unfamiliar clothes. I turned to find Tina, Calum and Leanne all smiling behind me, and standing with them was the lovely vicar who had married Jon and me fifteen years before.
Jon dropped to one knee in front of me and, taking my hand, he asked, ‘Wendy, will you marry me - again?’
William came to stand beside him carefully holding a satin cushion with a gorgeous eternity ring sitting dead centre, and he pointed out in his piping voice, ‘Those are real diamonds, Mummy.’ Then he turned to Jon, and sounding perplexed asked, ‘Why is she crying?’
‘Because she’s so happy,’ Jon said, standing up and taking both of my hands in his.
‘Mummy?’ Will looked anxiously up at me.
‘Daddy’s right, Will, it’s because I’m so happy and also because this is such a wonderful, wonderful surprise,’ I confirmed and, releasing one of Jon’s hands and taking one of Will’s, I walked between them to where the smiling vicar waited, with the sound of Shania Twain singing, ‘From This Moment,’ filling the room. It had been my song of choice on our wedding day, but I was amazed that Jon had remembered such a detail, though even the flowers I was holding were the golden roses and white freesias of my wedding bouquet.
‘I can’t believe you all kept this a secret from me,’ I kept saying over a sumptuous lunch, but it was when I said to Will, ‘and how you didn’t say a word in all this time, not even when you supposedly left this morning to go off and spend the day with Tristan and Trixie this, I’ll never know,’ that he finally could not keep quiet for even a minute longer.
‘I know,’ his face was one big beam, his hazel eyes sparkled, ‘and there’s more. Can I tell her, Daddy? Can I?’ he pleaded.
Everybody laughed and Jon encouraged Will, telling him, ‘You’ve been so great, Will, and I know keeping such a huge secret has been really hard for you – but you did it for me, and to make today a lovely surprise for Mummy so, yes, you can tell her.’
Will positively bounced from his chair to come and stand next to mine and utter the words with so much emphasis in his tone, ‘We’re going on a honeymoon, me, you and Daddy. That’s a very special kind of holiday, you know,’ he added importantly, ‘and we’re going on a plane to somewhere the sun shines all day every day.’
Will was absolutely right because the sun did shine every single day, making me question, for the first time, the wisdom of us holidaying in the UK year after year ever since Will was born.
‘Well, at six years old he’s of an age to properly enjoy an overseas holiday,’ Jon pointed out when I mentioned it to him, ‘and when he was younger we’d have had to bring so much paraphernalia with us. It would have been a nightmare. Far easier to pack up buggies, bottles and bags into the car and drive off to the Lake District than cart the whole lot through security and onto a plane. Sun block and bottled water is about the sum of it now and that can be bought on arrival.’
He turned over on his sun lounger and I automatically reached for the sun tan lotion and began to smooth it across his back.
‘Mmmm,’ he murmured with deep appreciation, ‘you have a trained masseur’s hands.’
‘I hope they didn’t do this,’ I smirked, as I ran daring fingers up and inside the leg of his shorts and over his buttock, ‘when you had that massage at the spa yesterday.’
‘I think you have to pay extra for that,’ Jon joked, ‘and you’ve just made sure I won’t be able to get up and go for lunch just yet.’
‘Why’s that?’ I grinned, giving the smooth peachy flesh one last pinch before relaxing back onto my sun-bed beneath a cloudless sky and closing my eyes with a sigh of pure bliss.
This holiday was just what we needed – what I needed – I admitted. The tension of the past few weeks had slipped away almost the very moment that the plane touched down in Cyprus, and the fact that I hadn’t had to organise it was a definite bonus.
We had hardly seen Will because he was off having fun as an enthusiastic member of the hotel’s kiddies’ club, giving us rare time to ourselves. Time to remember how it felt to be a couple, to appreciate each other’s company, and find the closeness that used to come so naturally to us and, even more important as far as I was concerned, the time and energy to have the kind of regular sex that undoubtedly created babies.
I stretched and lifted my head enough to gaze down the length of my slickly oiled body appreciating, how slim and lithe I was, and how relaxed and tanned. I looked and felt better than I had for ages, surely making it the optimum time for me to get pregnant. Whether it was the sun, the sea, or the starry night skies, I couldn’t get enough of Jon w
ho, I had to say, was every bit as keen as I was to grab any and every opportunity to make love.
‘I think,’ I said, standing up, stretching like a cat and making sure that my shadow fell across Jon’s lounger so that he opened his eyes and looked up at me, ‘that I will go and have a shower before lunch.’
‘Me, too.’
Jon was on his feet with gratifying speed, trying to appear ultra-casual as he tied a towel around his waist, arranging it in a way that told me he was already turned on.
*
I tried not to, I really did, but when we returned home I found myself counting the days until my next period was due, certain in my own mind that it wouldn’t be making its regular appearance, convinced that all our efforts had created a baby, a brother or sister for William. Were my breasts swollen, my nipples slightly sore? I imagined my belly was bigger, standing in front of the mirror and turning this way and that, and pushing it out in an exaggerated fashion in an effort to convince myself.
When the day of my cycle came and went I was almost beside myself with excitement, totally convinced that this was it. My body clock was nothing if not regular and it was all I could do not to rush out and buy a pregnancy test or two. I knew that these days they could predict a pregnancy within days of conception, but I didn’t want to tempt fate, holding tight to the possibility that this really was it and we were having another baby.
A second day passing and the fact that I felt lethargic – just as I had very soon after I’d realised I was pregnant with William – allowed my hopes to soar, to rush forward to choosing the decor for the new baby’s nursery and already anticipating picking out one of those modern prams that made life so easy for a new mother.
Perhaps I could just take the briefest peek into Mothercare, I tempted myself – but no, Will was still on holiday from school and would be bound to mention such a trip to Jon – and then I remembered that they weren’t the only store to stock everything a baby might need.
‘I’m bored, Mummy.’ Will came wandering into the kitchen looking for me right on cue.
I put aside one of the bridal magazines I perused regularly, looking for ideas for customers making bookings for wedding cakes, and asked him, ‘What would you like to do?’
William was just as consistent as I had expected him to be, and he said without hesitation, ‘Go to Toys‘r’Us and then McDonalds.’
It was said with a great deal of hope, but without much expectation of an agreement from me. Such trips were usually quite rare and confined to Will’s birthday or the necessity of buying a present for one of his friends, because of our determination not to spoil our son.
‘Ok,’ I agreed, and felt a little flicker of excitement.
‘Yesssssss,’ he was off and running around the table, obviously quite unable to believe his luck.
‘You can choose some Lego,’ I promised, adding, ‘but just a small box, because it isn’t your birthday yet. This is just a little treat because you’ve been such a good boy through the school holidays. Now, let’s have a look at you.’ Will hopped impatiently from one sandaled foot to the other as I checked the t-shirt and shorts he was wearing for grubbiness.’ I nodded. ‘You’ll do,’ I told him, and then I looked down at the cropped white jeans and blue t-shirt I’d chosen to put on that morning and added, ‘and I look ok, too.’
Despite our visits to the outlet being fairly infrequent, we still came often enough for me to know the layout of the store like the back of my hand, and I was immediately drawn to the area where I could see an amazing array of prams and cots set temptingly out.
Will’s gaze followed mine and he tugged my hand impatiently, advising me, ‘That’s just baby’s stuff over there – we don’t want to look at that. The big boy’s toys are over this way.’
Sometimes I honestly thought my son was far too intelligent for his own good, but I swallowed my impatience and just said mildly, ‘Of course it is. I just thought I saw someone I knew over there.’
Accepting that explanation without question, Will dragged me towards the aisles full of transformers, robots, weird and wonderful games and, finally, to the shelves stacked with the Lego that was his current passion.
‘Great minds think alike.’ It was Lucy Prendergast, still very blonde and tanned from her honeymoon in the sun. Will and her son, Tristan, fell upon each other as if they hadn’t seen one another just a couple of days ago when we’d taken them to the park, with Jade and Molly as well.
She chattered on about the wedding cake I’d made for them and how it was still fresh enough to be boxed and handed out to all those people they had forgotten about. I just let her words wash over me and looked my fill of her gorgeous baby daughter.
Several months old now, Trixie was sitting up, strapped into her buggy and busy throwing toys – literally - out of her pram. I stooped to return a Peppa Pig soft toy and was rewarded with a beaming smile that showed off two brand new front teeth.
I interrupted Lucy’s flow of words to say, ‘Trixie has two teeth. I hadn’t even realised she was teething. Aren’t babies usually cranky when they have teeth coming through?’
Lucy laughed and admitted ruefully, ‘I hadn’t realised myself until she chewed on my nipple. I decided quite quickly it was time Trixie was weaned.’
‘She’s gorgeous.’
I retrieved another toy and was rewarded with another huge smile. I couldn’t help but imagine myself in Lucy’s position with the two children that I had always thought made up the perfect family, but I was also forced to admit that I had more reasons than most to yearn for the arrival of a second child.
A little girl like Trixie – I tried to imagine what that would be like – and then hastily changed the picture to one of me holding a baby boy, because I really didn’t care at all. Just please let me be pregnant, I pleaded silently to whoever was in charge of the universe, and I will spend the rest of my life being the perfect wife and mother and never ask for anything ever again.
The two boys as usual took simply ages to make up their minds. Also as usual they started with the biggest boxed sets they could find and then gradually worked down to something of a more acceptable size and price.
We turned to walk to the checkout, and I started to joyfully anticipate walking through the baby department, realising that having Lucy and Trixie with me was going to be the perfect excuse to linger and to finger those gorgeous little pink dresses hanging there so sweetly on the hangers.
I hid my impatience with difficulty as the boys tarried to gaze at a bunch of ugly figurines from some popular TV show and breathed a sigh of relief when Jade encouraged, ‘Come on boys, we must just have a quick look at the baby toys and you can help to choose something for Trixie.’
Tristan and Will were behind us, but they hurried to catch up, and I could hear Tristan advising, ‘She likes Peppa Pig the most.’
‘Yes, she does,’ Lucy agreed. ‘I could sit her in front of Peppa Pig’s DVDs all day if I was a bad parent, but they do come in handy when I have to get something done.’
We were both laughing as we recollected the boys’ early obsession with In The Night Garden. I was almost having palpitations as we moved steadily towards the baby department. Then I felt Will tugging at the hem of my t-shirt and turned to see what he wanted.
‘Mummy,’ he said, pointing, ‘why have you got tomato ketchup on your trousers when we haven’t even been to McDonalds yet?’
Chapter 8
I don’t know how I managed to behave so normally. Assuring the two boys that the blood on my trousers – because that’s what it was – was just something I’d accidently sat in, and then gratefully accepting Lucy’s offer to include William in their plans for the rest of the day.
‘You’ll want to go home and clean up, Wendy, and by the time you’ve showered and changed you might not feel like coming back out. I usually feel like crap on the first day of my period.’ She said all of this very kindly, but she had no idea, none at all about just how crap I was going to feel – w
hen I eventually allowed myself to feel.
I managed to make my feeble, ‘Thank you, that’s very kind of you,’ sound suitably appreciative.
‘No problem at all,’ Lucy assured me, but she must have noticed something out of the ordinary, because then she added, ‘but you actually look quite pale, Wendy. Perhaps it would be best if I drove you home and let Jon pick your car up from here later.’
I rallied, and said, ‘Nonsense, I’ll be absolutely fine,’ probably a bit too heartily. In truth I was holding it all together by a thread and, desperate to get home – alone – I ushered them all towards Lucy’s car, helped strap the boys safely into their seats, while she was dealing with the baby, raced to my own car and drove out of the car park at speed.
I was crying long before I reached home, and I turned the radio up to drown out my own howls of grief. I knew it was ridiculous to be grieving for a baby that had never existed, but it had existed to me. Those few days before my period arrived had been enough to convince me that a child was on the way. In my mind, I had been rushing ahead to the burgeoning belly, the full breasts – I had even been looking forward to morning sickness, for God’s sake – and most of all to holding another baby in my arms.
I had been so sure, so bloody sure that Jon and I could create a baby together, another baby, a baby that was going to lay all my fears and doubts about William’s conception to rest. Now all of my doubts and uncertainties were back and I was over-whelmed with them.
The drive home was a complete blank and I was quite shocked when I found myself turning into the driveway. Lucy had doubtless been right when she’d said that I shouldn’t drive, and it frightened the life out of me to realise I had probably been a danger to myself and everyone else on the road. My hand was shaking so much as I tried to slot the key into the lock that it took several attempts and then I literally fell through the door, landing painfully on my knees where I stayed sobbing for I didn’t quite know how long.