‘You never ever leave the loo seat up.’
He laughed. ‘What can I say? Other than that must make me perfect.’
‘Perhaps it does,’ she said, marvelling at how handsome he was and that she still couldn’t believe he cared for her the way he did.
‘No perhaps about it,’ he said. ‘Which means that together we make the perfect couple.’
Pushing Cedric and her friends from her mind, and flinging her arms around Rick, she kissed him. ‘Thank you,’ she said.
He looked at her, surprised. ‘What for?’
‘For … for everything.’
‘Which reminds me, I have something for you. A small present.’
She frowned. ‘You can’t keep spoiling me with presents.’
‘But I like giving you things. Would you deny me that pleasure?’
‘No, but I feel guilty that you keep buying me so many lovely gifts when I can’t afford to return the gesture.’
‘I promise you that doesn’t bother me at all.’ Getting to his feet, he left her alone in the kitchen with Sirius eying her balefully.‘What have you done with Cedric?’his unblinking, reproachful gaze seemed to say.
‘Here it is,’ said Rick when he was back with her.
She took the prettily wrapped box from him. For a crazy moment she had wondered, just as she had that night at the restaurant when he’d asked her to move in with him, if he was about to give her a ring. But judging from the flatness of the box, she ruled that out, and with a degree of relief. It was a thought she didn’t want to explore too deeply.
‘Go on, then,’ he urged her.
She did as he said and pulled on the ribbon that held the wrapping paper in place. When she had the box open, she saw that he had given her a necklace.
‘It’s beautiful,’ she murmured, taking in the fineness of the gold chain and exquisite little four-leaf clover pendant, also in gold.
‘Do you like it?’ he asked.
‘Rick, I love it, it’s so pretty.’
‘Just like you. Here, let me put it on you.’
Scooping up her hair for him, he put the chain around her neck. He then turned her round to face him. ‘Perfect,’ he said. ‘Just as I imagined it would look on. And the four-leaf clover is to bring us luck.’ He smiled. ‘Not that we need it.’
‘Everybody needs luck,’ she said. She more than most, with the prospect of telling Simon and Lucy about Cedric.
Chapter Fourteen
In the bathroom and out of the shower, Tom dried himself with a towel, then wiped the mirror above the vanity unit so he could see his face in order to trim his beard. Even though it didn’t really need it. It was a delaying tactic. A way to put off getting into bed and what awaited him there.
He knew he wasn’t the first man to feel that the fun had been systematically drained out of having sex in the pursuit of creating a baby, but he wasn’t proud of himself for feeling this way. He secretly longed for the days when a shag was just a shag. When lust could spring from nowhere and be satiated spontaneously and with passion. When he and Martha could lose themselves in the moment and without a care in the world. Other than for her to make sure she took that small pill every morning that would stop the careless creation of an unwanted child.
Whatever exhaustion or negative emotions he might feel at the rigorous and wholly unerotic nature of their current sex life, he was determined not to let it show. He had to keep in mind what they were trying to achieve. It would all be worth it in the end. He just hoped it would happen this month. If they failed this time round, he knew the next step – the only logical next step – was for them to seek medical help.
According to what Martha said, and what he’d read online, most couples would have already spoken to a doctor by now. Tom didn’t normally drag his feet, he was like Martha in that respect, but in this instance, it was all wrapped up in his fear that he might fail Martha. Common sense told him that he might well be firing on all cylinders just fine, and it could be Martha’s body that was at the heart of the problem, but if that was the case then he wouldn’t be able to bear seeing how much that would distress her. If there was a bullet to be taken, he would sooner be the one who took it as he felt sure he would be able to cope with it better than Martha. She was one of the strongest and most clear-thinking people he knew, but he worried that she wouldn’t be able to accept a diagnosis of that order objectively. He knew it would eat away at her.
Irrational behaviour was not something Martha went in for, that was more Willow’s territory, but there was no getting away from it, Martha’s response to her mother’s news had made her behave irrationally. Her reaction far exceeded anything he might have expected. Not that he had previously put any thought into what would happen if his mother-in-law did announce that she had met somebody, perhaps because he hadn’t thought she ever would; she seemed so quietly content with life post Colin.
Colin had always struck Tom as being at the centre of the Miller family; the lynchpin. That was how Martha had regarded him, that much was true. Another man in Tom’s position might have imagined that he would partially fill the gap in the family left by Colin’s death. But Tom had been astute enough to know that while Naomi had indeed occasionally turned to him for advice, it was Martha who had seen herself stepping into Colin’s shoes as head of the family. For his part, Tom had been happy to play a supporting role to his wife,and to Naomi and Willow. It was recognising one’s role in a marriage – and within a family – that was ultimately the key to a couple’s happiness.
As far as he could see, that was what had made Naomi and Colin’s marriage the success it had been; they had each carved out their roles and been happy with the arrangement. In the same way Tom had accepted that Martha hated to cook, and he loved to cook. In turn, she had never minded that he was hopeless at DIY and that she knew her way round a toolkit better than he did, thanks to her father having taught her the basics at a young age. Friends had teased him about this, but in no way did he feel emasculated by his wife’s prowess with a drill and a monkey wrench. ‘We all have our talents and should know our strengths and weaknesses,’ he would say. As Martha would be the first to point out, she didn’t know a roux from a bechamel sauce, and never planned to.
