Star let out a whimper of despair. Who exactly was she trying to kid with all these rational thoughts? ‘Je ne regrette rien’ Edith Piaf had been singing at Auntie Flo’s the other day. Maybe the singer didn’t regret anything, but Star realised that she herself did. In fact, now that Jack was getting married, she would just have to live a life full of regret. Regret for not having had the courage to tell him that it was his baby she was carrying; for not having had the courage to tell him exactly how she felt about him, even before she knew that this baby was his.
She pulled up at the Penrigan Beach car park at ten minutes past twelve. She was late.
When she checked her phone, she saw there was a text from an unknown number. You’ll find me sitting on the fifthbench along on the left-hand side of the pier. Sid. Realising that was Molly and Ronnie’s bench, Star brightened up.
Walking along the pier, she did her usual thing of looking out to sea and not down at her feet in order to avoid the dizzy terror of seeing through the slats and feeling as if she was about to fall through them into the dark waves below. The sun was shining brightly. Gulls were soaring on the wing in the light breeze, cawing in delight at this brief respite of winter warmth, which had brought out some walkers who might be carrying something to eat.
As she approached the covered bench, Star could see a trendy pair of red trainers poking out, which was a surprise. Sid had seemed an older name to her, but she had obviously got that wrong, unless this person had a particularly young taste in footwear. As she approached the bench the man poked his head around, then stood up. Star was slightly taken aback by his appearance. He was wearing decent jeans and a navy ski jacket, but he had a blue beanie hat pulled right down to his designer sunglasses, plus he had a scarf draped round the bottom of his face and neck. He could easily have passed as some sort of gangster disguising himself for fear of being outed on one of those live crime investigation programmes on TV.
He held out his gloved hand and said in a muffled Welsh accent, ‘I’m Sid. Have you got the necklace?’
‘Yes, here it is.’ Star handed him the little golden gift box and turned to leave. He was so strange she didn’t really want to spend one more minute here, let alone hang around to see him open the box and bask in his pleasure in the necklace.
‘Wait! One second, please.’ The man held his hand out.
Star stopped and stared, bemused, as the man pulled a sticky label from his pocket, stuck it on the box then handedit back to her. She gazed at the handwritten message in disbelief, then feeling a tingle spread through her from the top of her head to the tip of her toes, she read aloud: ‘The heart has its reasons which reason knows not. My reason is you.’
The man took off the glasses, then pulled away the beanie hat and scarf to reveal the familiar bearded face she had been longing so badly to see again.
‘You frightened the shit out of me then, you bastard,’ she said shakily. ‘And I’ve never heard such a rubbish Welsh accent.’
‘I thought it would be romantic.’
Star laughed then burst into tears. ‘Oh, Jack.’
‘We’re not very good at this, are we?’ he said, and guided her to sit next to him on the bench. He cradled her into him. ‘Let me explain, OK?’ Star nodded.
‘I don’t care that you’re pregnant with another man’s child. I don’t care that you are in a relationship. I care aboutyou. In fact, Star Lilian Bligh, crazy as it sounds, I am in love with you.’
‘But you’re getting married?’
‘No, I’m not. I found the message that conniving little bitch Riley sent you. We had already split. I was working out the best way to contact you and then, when I saw that spiteful message, I knew I had to come and see you face to face, because if I had received something like that, I would never have spoken to you or trusted you again. Look, Star, I know you’re with Conor and you have a whole new life ahead of you with your baby, but I had to tell you how I felt. I would never have found peace within if I hadn’t done so. You are a beautiful, gifted, kind and generous person, and if I can work that out after spending just a few hours with you, then that must mean you are one special human being.’
‘I’m not with Conor.’ The statement was short and factual.
Jack pulled away from her, his hazel eyes wide. ‘He left you and you’re pregnant? No, no, that’s so wrong.’
‘I think you had better be ready for the next surprise. We split because I’m pregnant with somebody else’s baby. And I’m in love with the father.’
‘Oh.’ Jack felt his throat tightening with emotion.
Star got ready to pull the pin on the grenade, which was her heart. ‘It’s your baby, Jack,’ she whispered, her voice barely audible.
‘My baby?’ he echoed.
Star nodded. ‘I didn’t know I was pregnant for ages. I’d met Conor by then, and assumed it was his, but the midwife examined me and I learned that I was a lot further on than I’d thought. This baby can only be yours, Jack.’
Speechless, full of joy and excitement, Jack leaned forward and put his lips on hers. The bristles of his beard scratched against her soft cheeks as she gripped his head firmly, as if to keep him from escaping. Breathless and passionate, loving and meaningful all in one glorious toe-curling moment of joyous togetherness. They kissed.
‘Star Bligh, I need to make love to you, right now!’
‘Yes,’ Star replied just as feverishly, ‘but not here. Where are you staying?’
He pointed up at the Penrigan View Hotel.
‘Are you sure it’s safe for the baby, having that much sex in one go?’ Jack propped himself up on one arm and stared down at a very flushed Star.
‘It’s a bit late to worry about that now. God, that was sogood.’ She lay back and did a mad snow angel effect under the covers. ‘Why call yourself Sid, by the way? That’s such a random name to come up with.’
