Legging it, he curses all the way to the van. When he climbs inside, he’s already regretting the angry outburst, which has sent him hurtling right back to the old Harley. ‘Arghhh,’ he yells, banging his fist on the steering wheel.
But buying strangers a drink and getting gifts for Rosie were kind things to do, she sounds bewildered,meaning it’s the furthest you’ve ever been from that man.
Not ready to believe it, scared of hoping, he turns up the volume on the radio, trying to drown out her voice.
CHAPTER 12
Gilly
Say Sorry and Mean It
The new job was going well, but by her third week, Gilly was completely distracted by her personal life. After they’d made up over champagne, she’d hoped Ariel would be so busy painting and helping with the cottages, IVF would be on the back burner. Instead, she was prodding daily, setting Gilly’s teeth on edge and dredging up a dark, horrible guilt.
First, she booked an appointment with a private fertility specialist, having a meltdown when Gilly explained they couldn’t afford it. The following day, she’d waved a GP registration form under her nose, intent on getting a referral to the nearby hospital underway. Qualifying for NHS treatment would be lengthy due to stringent criteria set out by local Healthcare Trust with a strong bias towards hetero couples. When Gilly said she wasn’t ready to start the paperwork yet, the result was an instant explosion of temper which unaccountably rattled a print off thelounge wall, the corner of the now-broken frame leaving a gouge in the oak floor.
She knew how desperately Ariel wanted a baby. Not being able to have a child together was an exquisite type of pain. The difference between them was, she wasn’t willing to sacrifice everything, including their financial future, mental health and relationship, to have one. Ariel was becoming obsessed, and Gilly was so concerned she’d suggested talking to a professional over dinner the previous evening.
‘You mean a therapist?’ Ariel crossed her arms.
‘Maybe.’
‘I don’t need that kind of help,’ Ariel sniffed. ‘I need you to stop being selfish. I don’t understand why you won’t just agree to get on with it. We’ve got credit cards.’ Shoving her plate away, she’d flounced into the spare bedroom, leaving Gilly gawping, stung and sleeping alone. Again.
The words circled her head all night.Stop being selfish.Was she, or was Ariel, in her single-minded pursuit of parenthood? Either way, she wasn’t sure how much longer they could go on, stuck in this exhausting impasse. Hopefully, following her research at lunchtime, they might be able to move forward as a couple. Perhaps not ideal, but worth considering.
Meet me in our cottage at 7pm, Xx.
Ariel had texted earlier, making Gilly’s heart skip with apprehension. Did she want to meet there to break up away from their flat, or to talk about how they were going to handle the rebuild together? One option led to heartbreak, the other to a tentative future.
Despite her uncertainty, Gilly was calm driving home from work through pretty wildflower-laden lanes and into LittleBeaubrook. The village was showing green shoots of progress since the association (apparently mostly Albie and Kirsten) had secured quotes and appointed builders. Ariel had filled her in before their latest argument. Several half-filled skips now stood in front of the small allotment, banging and tapping sounding from the upstairs windows of Albie’s cottage as replacing rotting floorboards got underway.
Parking outside their disintegrating property, the second building on the right from the manor’s gates, she grabbed her laptop bag and locked the car. Shoving the creaking wooden gate open and tripping up the uneven, weed-choked path in the twilight, she all but tumbled over the threshold and straight into Ariel’s arms.
‘Wow, that was some greeting. Must’ve been a hard day at work,’ Ariel joked, steadying Gilly and acting like the row the night before had never happened. ‘Come on, thought we’d eat in here.’ Guiding her across the hallway and into the dim lounge, she pointed at the picnic spread out on the dusty wooden floorboards. There were no electrics yet, but it wasn’t dark outside, so the jars of candles placed strategically around the room illuminated the space the team of builders had cleared the day before.
‘This looks romantic. Any reason?’ Gilly murmured, studying the bowls of Greek food on straw mats on the thick navy blanket, which was their best throw. Trying not to wince, she ignored the peeling wallpaper, cold draft blowing down her neck (the front door rested against the frame rather than properly closing) and the dirt coating everything. The important thing was Ariel trying. Now she just needed to find out why.
‘I thought it’d be nice to spend time here, check out the energy of the place before deciding what to do to it.’ Gesturing for Gilly to sit, she pressed a chilled glass of Pinot into her handand knelt to dish out flatbreads, olives, Dolmades vine leaves, lamb skewers, hummus and tzatziki.
Once they were digging into full plates, Ariel blurted, ‘I have exciting news. I’ve been thinking about why you’re so opposed to another cycle?—’
Gilly groaned. ‘This again? I don’t?—’
‘Hear me out.’ She set her food aside. ‘From your perspective, it’s not just the money, you’re worried about the physical toll on me and scared of other disappointments. Right?’
‘Yes.’
‘So, what if our chances of having a child were much higher?’ Ariel leaned forward. ‘I’ve been looking into it and?—’
‘I didn’t think you’d consider it.’ They must be talking about the same thing. God, what a relief. They could put all the expense, devastation and grief behind them. ‘It could be incredible.’ Digging around in her laptop bag, Gilly pulled out the printed papers. ‘I wasn’t sure if you’d be okay with it.’
‘Why wouldn’t I be?’ Ariel set the wad of paper aside and squeezed Gilly’s hands.
‘Well, I know it’s not how you imagined, but you wouldn’t have to go through invasive treatments. Adopting a child would be so rewarding?—’
‘Adoption?’ Ariel wrenched her hands away. ‘No!’
Gilly stared, bewildered. ‘I don’t understand. What are you talking about?’
