New Beginnings At Glendale Hall

by Victoria Walters

  ‘Emily! You’re back!’ My mum flung open the front door before I reached out to knock. She held out her hands and I tumbled into them. Sometimes, no matter your age, you just needed a hug from your mum. And, of course, I started to cry. ‘Oh no, what’s going on? Let’s get you off the doorstep,’ she cried, pulling me into the hall and closing the door behind me. ‘Your dad is still at school. Come on, this way,’ she said, leading me through to their kitchen. The back door was flung open, letting in the afternoon light from their garden. It was a shame Dad wasn’t there. We were more alike and somewhat closer than me and my mum because of that but, then again, he was likely to tell me what I wanted to hear whereas my mum would most definitely not, and perhaps that was what I needed.

  She briskly made us a cup of tea as I dried my eyes. I looked out to their small patio garden, which was filled with colourful pots of flowers. My dad was the green-fingered one out of the two of them. He loved being outdoors. He was a PE teacher, after all. And happy to stay one. Whereas my ambitious mother was now headmistress, my dad was content in his job. ‘Now, what’s going on? I knew there was more to your sudden flit up to Glendale than you said in that hurried voicemail you left us,’ she said, giving me a stern look. She sat down opposite me and slid over a mug to me. Mum had my blonde hair but hers was almost white now, and styled in a sharp bob, and she had blue eyes whereas mine were hazel. She had my curves too but our dress sense was very different – she wore a pencil skirt and blouse from her day at the school, and she loved wearing heels.

  I took a deep breath. ‘Everything feels like it’s falling apart,’ I admitted. ‘You’re right, I went up to Glendale early because things weren’t good with Greg. They’re still not, and I think we need help.’ It was always hard for me to lean on my mum as she always seemed to have everything sorted in her own life.

  She reached out and squeezed my hand. ‘What has he done?’ she asked, certain it was all his fault.

  I smiled a little at her loyalty. So, I told her. About the cheating, the gambling and all our debts, and the fact that he had tried to drown his sorrows in booze. ‘It just keeps getting worse. I’ve found out all these things… how could I not know the man I was living with at all?’

  Mum shook her head. ‘You know that I always thought that you deserved someone better. I didn’t like the way he didn’t seem to respect you but I would never say I told you so because I really didn’t think he’d ever do anything quite like this,’ she said, after absorbing it all. Mum was a staunch feminist. She had actually been upset when I told her I had fallen in love. She had wanted a big career for me. She herself hadn’t married Dad until she had become head of the English department when I was five. I had been an accident. She had always been open with me that she had wanted to wait until her late thirties to become a mother but she had been happy when I had come along and never let motherhood hold her back in any way.

  I think she had known that I wouldn’t focus on my career once I found someone. She had been right. I had put Greg ahead of everything. I had just wanted to build a family. Now I couldn't help but feel I would have been better off if I had followed her advice. It was all very well in hindsight, though.

  ‘You need to walk away, Em,’ she said then. ‘It’s great he’s trying to get help and by all means, be there for him, but he’s lied to you so much. How can you trust him? You need to sell that house and start over again. You can always come back home. You need to put yourself first for once,’ she said, firmly, as if she would brook no arguments on the matter.

  ‘If only it was that simple,’ I said, shaking my head.

  She sighed. ‘It can be if you let it, Emily.’

  ‘No, you don’t understand, Mum…’

  ‘I know you love him but—’

  ‘Mum!’ I snapped, stopping her in mid-sentence. Sometimes it was hard to get her to listen when she was off on a rant but I had to tell her the last piece of the puzzle. Why it was so much more complicated than she thought. Why I still felt so torn and confused about what to do. I looked at her. ‘I’m pregnant.’

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  On Monday morning, I turned up for my first day back at work, and Molly informed me that Steph had handed in her notice, and they’d agreed she’d leave immediately.

  ‘I think she realised there was no way she could face you every day,’ Molly said. ‘And that I no longer wanted her here. So, I’ve put a sign up for someone and in the meantime, my daughter-in-law can help on busy days. And we’ll muddle through just fine,’ she added, cheerfully. I couldn’t help but feel relieved, although it would be a lot more work for us now, but at least I wouldn’t have to deal with Steph again.

  ‘And how are you feeling?’ Molly asked as we opened up. ‘I hope you’re looking after yourself,’ she added, with a stern glance in my direction.

  I smiled weakly. ‘Baby-wise, I’m fine,’ I said. ‘If still tired most of the time but the other things, well, there’s so much to sort out.’ I was saved from having to say more as our first customer came in. My break in Glendale felt almost like a dream as I was very quickly planted back into my London life. Days spent at the bakery, rushed off my feet, and then evenings spent trying to sort everything out with Greg.

  I had met with Peter the accountant and he had put us in touch with a debt management service. We had worked out payment plans for Greg’s debts and we’d had an estate agent round to value the house. Greg was trying to argue that we should try to keep the house, and I knew part of that was because he was desperately trying to keep hold of our dream of being a family, living there together.

  But I knew we had to sell it. There was no way we could pay off the debts otherwise. We had made money on the house luckily so if we did sell it and pay off what Greg owed then there would be a little left to start again. Although technically Greg was entitled to more of that as the deposit had come from him. It very much all depended on whether we were going to start over again together or not. And that was something I just didn’t know.

  My parents were insistent that I could move back in with them as soon as I wanted.

  ‘I try not to get involved in your life unless you want me to. You’re a grown woman and a very capable one but sometimes you lose sight of what you want. So, please focus on that. Do not just go along with what Greg wants, okay? At least promise me that, Emily,’ Mum had said, holding me tight after I told her I was having a baby. ‘If you want to stay with Greg then I will support you but you are more than capable of raising this baby on your own. Sometimes it’s best to try to keep a family together but other times, a child would be happier if their parents were happy. And that might mean you don’t stay together. You can do anything that you want to, don’t ever forget that.’

  The problem was, I just didn’t know what I wanted. I had never felt quite so confused. I was proud of Greg for facing his problems and trying to get help. He had met with our GP and had been referred to a local treatment centre to help with his addiction problems. They had suggested rehab might be the best place but Greg had said no so they recommended a mixture of group and one-on-one counselling sessions for him. He didn’t want residential treatment because he didn’t want to be away from me. But it was so hard; I could see how much he was struggling. He was often moody and irritable and tired all the time, so, coupled with hormonal me, the house was often tense. He was determined though to save us. He kept saying we owed it to our baby.

  But was he right about that?

  And then there were the nights I lay awake, thinking about everything, and my mind would conjure up the look on Brodie’s face when he told me that he wished I was free. Sometimes I even ended up reaching for my phone, wanting to call him, to hear his voice, to ask his advice. But how could I? How could I ask him about what I should do? I couldn’t be that selfish. And yet I desperately wanted to be.

  The happiness I had felt being up in Scotland with him and our friends had faded into a memory but I didn’t want it to. I wanted to be happy. If o
nly I could be sure what would make me happy.

  * * *

  I had been back in London for a couple of weeks when I felt I couldn’t ignore Rachel any longer. After she and Hazel had heard through Johnny that Greg and I were now back in London, she had sent me two messages begging me to meet with her. We arranged to meet in one of our favourite coffee shops and when I arrived, my heart sank a little to see that she’d also invited Hazel and they were both there already, kids on laps, waiting for me.

  I hesitated in the doorway for a moment before sucking in a deep breath and walking over.

  ‘Emily!’ Rachel jumped up, rather awkwardly as she was holding the baby, and I leaned in to kiss her on the cheek. ‘You look radiant,’ she said, unable to hide her surprise. Perhaps they both thought I had crumbled with Greg’s fall from grace.

  ‘Your trip away must have done you good,’ Hazel agreed, tilting her face up so I had to kiss her too.

  I sat down opposite, facing the two women whose lives I had so envied. It all felt rather trivial now.

  ‘So, how are you doing, poor thing? We couldn’t believe Greg turned up to work drunk like that,’ Hazel said, screwing her face up.

  I could have glossed it over perhaps but I was too tired from the past few days trying to sort our lives out and, really, what was the point? Greg had had to tell his boss the truth and he was on sickness leave so no doubt his colleagues would hear all about it anyway and Johnny would pass it all to his wife. ‘Greg is an alcoholic,’ I said. ‘He’s getting help, though.’

  ‘Oh my God,’ Hazel said, exchanging a look with Rachel. She looked horrified. ‘You must be devastated. You’re not going to stay with him, are you?’

  ‘Hazel,’ Rachel said, with a soft reproach. ‘Can we help at all?’

  I smiled a little at her more sympathetic response. ‘No, but thank you.’

  ‘Well, thank goodness you didn’t have a family in the end. I mean, can you imagine?’

  I stared at Hazel. I wondered then how I had ever sought this woman’s approval. How I had wished so desperately to be her. ‘Actually, I’m pregnant,’ I found myself saying. We were due to have the first scan next week but I couldn’t stop the words from flying out. ‘And I can only hope you never have any problems in your life, Hazel, because no one will be at all sympathetic if this is how you treat other people going through a tough time.’ I stood up abruptly.

  ‘No, Em, don’t go,’ Rachel said, quickly. She gave Hazel a stern look. ‘I am so happy for you! And now we can all hang out with our babies; it’s what we always wanted.’

  ‘So, now I can hang out with you guys again?’ I asked, incredulously. ‘You basically ditched me as soon as you got pregnant, and you don’t know how much that hurt. How much I looked at you both and wished I had your lives. But you know what? Friendship shouldn’t be about convenience. I have real friends who are with me through whatever happens in my life because they love me, and I love them, and it’s not about what stage of our lives we’re at, or how useful we are to one another,’ I said, my heart aching for my friends back in Glendale who didn’t care if I had a baby or was married or not, but who just cared for me as a person.

  ‘That isn’t what I meant,’ Rachel said, her cheeks turning pink, looking thoroughly embarrassed.

  ‘This is silly,’ Hazel added. ‘You need us, Emily. You don’t want to turn your back on us right now.’

  Suddenly that threat felt like nothing to me. ‘I think I’ll do just fine actually,’ I said, lifting my bag onto my shoulder and striding out of that coffee shop, leaving them staring after me.

  For once in my life I didn’t feel horrified by the confrontation, or desperate to make amends, I felt like I had just set myself free.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Nerves fluttered in my stomach.

  I glanced across at Greg who was walking with a frown, frequently brushing the hair back from his face despite the fact there was no breeze on the air so I knew he was nervous too. We were walking into hospital for our first scan. We were well into July now, and the city had become hot. Almost unbearably so. The sun was scorching, high up in the sky and I longed for the Scottish air. Not only for the cool breeze that you always felt up there, but because I was so nervous, I wanted to run away. I was desperate for everything to be okay with the baby. And I could tell Greg was tense too. So much had gone wrong for us, we were both on tenterhooks, hoping that our baby at least would be fine.

  I longed for Brodie’s faith as we pushed open the doors to the hospital because if I’d had that, I would have said a little prayer. Instead, I just crossed my fingers in the pocket of my dungarees.

  We were soon shown into a room where we met the sonographer. I was asked to get comfortable on the couch and to adjust my clothing. Greg sat down beside me, and patted my leg quickly. I knew he was trying to be fully present with me even though he was struggling, and I did appreciate that. The woman rubbed gel on my tummy and I flinched from the cold. When she moved the probe over me, I realised I was holding my breath.

  She smiled as she looked at the screen in front of her. ‘There we go.’ She moved it a little so I could see and I gasped as the grainy black and white image of my baby appeared on the screen. ‘Looking perfect,’ she added.

  ‘Really? Everything is okay?’ I asked. I glanced at Greg who was smiling. He reached out and took my hand and I let him hold it as we watched our baby.

  ‘Everything is fine. And it looks like you’re eleven weeks so it's all progressing nicely.’ She went on to talk about the next scan that would check for any abnormalities and where we could find out if it was a boy or a girl but I found myself tuning out her words as I stared at the image on the screen. I hadn’t been quite prepared for the feeling that washed over me. A fierce protective feeling. That was my baby. It was growing inside me. It only had me to protect it, to nurture it, to love it. For nine months, anyway.

  Pulling my hand out from under Greg’s so I could wipe away the tear that had rolled down my cheek, it was the first moment that I knew it for sure.

  I could look after this baby, with or without Greg.

  * * *

  After we left the hospital, we walked to the supermarket and picked up two sandwiches and then headed into a nearby park to sit and eat them on a bench in the sunshine. I was relieved that the scan had gone so well, and now that I was approaching three months, I knew I could no longer hide from this baby, I needed to get everything organised. We only had six months until a brand new human being came into this world, and there was so much to do.

  ‘I still can’t believe our baby is growing in there,’ Greg said then, glancing at my stomach. There was just the beginning of something there now. I felt curvier too but softer as well, and the buttons on my jeans were getting a little snug. But I didn’t care for the first time in my life. I felt freer than I ever had. I was sure that Greg could see it as he gazed at me, a slight crease in his forehead as if he couldn’t quite place me any more. I understood why. I was feeling the same way myself.

  ‘It’s amazing,’ I agreed. ‘After all this time too… although the timing could have been better.’

  Greg shook his head. ‘The timing is perfect. We need this baby.’

  I looked at him. ‘A baby can’t fix problems, you know that. It just means we need to sort out as much as we can before it arrives. And that means trying to get ourselves out of this debt. We have to put the house up for sale.’

  ‘But where will we live with the baby?’ His face twisted in confusion.

  ‘Well, I might have to go back to my parents for a while, until there’s enough to get my own place again.’

  Greg stared at me. ‘You mean us, don’t you?’

  ‘Well, I was thinking. Your counsellor mentioned a residential place, didn’t she? I know that you said you wanted to try day therapy and everything but maybe staying there for a while would be the best thing. You’re finding it so hard and they did say it was the best route. I know you want to stay with
me but the sooner you can start getting a handle on it all, the better, surely. Especially for this one.’ I touched my stomach.

  Greg thought about what I had said for a moment. ‘But when I came out, then we’d be together, wouldn’t we?’

  I twisted on the bench to face him and took one of his hands in mine. I hated how scared he looked but although I wanted to do all I could to help him beat his addictions, I didn’t think I should lie to him either. ‘Seeing our baby on the screen like that just made it all real. Greg, you need to look after yourself right now. You need to try to get better. I really think that the best thing for all of us is for you to go to the centre while I sell up our house and pay off our debts. Do you see that?’

  ‘But I should be with you right now,’ he said, his lip trembling. ‘You need me.’

  ‘What I need is for you to be ready to be the best father that you can be for him or her, and the only way you can do that is to get the help you need. Battle your addictions and get strong and healthy for them. And you will do that much faster if you go to the treatment centre.’

  Greg looked down at our entwined hands. ‘I know that I’ve screwed everything up but I do love you. And this baby. So much.’ His eyes filled with unshed tears.

  A lump rose up in my throat. ‘I know. I’ll always love you. And this baby will love you too. I promise you that.’

  He drew his hand away as if my words were finally getting through. He nodded once. ‘Can I have some time alone? To think?’

  I bit my lip. ‘I don’t want you to—’

  ‘I won’t,’ he interrupted me. ‘I promise I won’t go to a pub or casino or anything. I just need to process all of this. I hear you, though. I do hear you.’