‘I can see that! Hello, darling.’ She walked over to the girl and pecked her on the cheek. ‘How’re you feeling?’
‘Good! Actually, really good!’
Enya noted the bloom of health on the girl’s cheeks, the perkiness to her posture and the smile about her mouth. It was lovely to see, yet was also a cause for concern. Enya hoped the upturn in Holly’s spirit and demeanour was because she was calming, that the hurt of her break-up was softening, the emotional bruises beginning to heal, and not because she was in close proximity to Aiden. Because that might be a false dawn, and being offered hope and having it snatched away was, she knew from personal experience, often worse, harder to recover from. It was also unfair if he was, no matter how unwittingly, making an unspoken promise.
‘I’ve got my first scan next week.’ The girl beamed and pulled her shoulders in, excited.
‘Oh, my goodness, that’ll make it all seem real. Seeing that screen and having a photo to carry around. I’ve still got Aiden’s, he looked like a big-headed alien.’
‘Still does a bit.’ Holly frowned at him, and Enya felt the icy point of recognition in her breast. She understood that this was all Holly had hoped for, Aiden, home alone, discussing the baby around the kitchen table.
‘Just nipping to the loo.’
Her son left the table. It felt like Enya’s opportunity to say something, to try and help set the girl’s expectations, but she didn’t know where to start. Wary of quashing the buds of reconciliation, if that was where they were heading, but also wanting to limit the potential for more damage.
The moment Aiden trod the stairs, Holly turned to face her, speaking quickly in no more than a whisper. ‘He says the wedding might be off, that he’s probably moving back home, what d’you make of that?’
It explained the girl’s delight. There was no disguising the utter joy in her tone, the lift in her spirits; she was clearly delighted and equally consoled by the prospect.
‘To be honest, lovey, I don’t really know what’s going on. There’s been some kind of...’ She didn’t want to give details of the row, it felt misplaced, disloyal, and was not her story to tell. ‘One thing I will say though, because I think the world of you, and I always will, is that even if the wedding doesn’t go ahead, even if he and Iris decide to call it a day...’
‘Do you think they will?’
It was clear she was only listening selectively.
‘As I say, I don’t know what’s going on or how this is going to pan out, but I think you need to ask yourself, even if Aiden is free, would you want to be with someone who chose to end your relationship? Who left you for someone else? And just because he might be single again, and we don’t know for sure, butevenif he is, there are no guarantees that you and he would pick up where you left off. And you should question whether that’s what you would even want.’
Aware that it was her son she referred to, Enya did her best to be open, honest, and only say what she would say to him face to face when she got the chance.
‘What I want, Enya, is him. What I’ve always wanted is him. I’d take him back in a heartbeat. I love him.’ Holly paused to gather herself, her eyes misting as she spoke. ‘We’re having a baby.’
It was as she opened her mouth to speak that Aiden walked back into the kitchen.
‘I wanted to show you something,’ Holly gushed. ‘I’ve got a baby book! Well, actually, Imadeus a baby book!’
Holly dipped her head under the table to reach into her rucksack.
Aiden took the opportunity to face his mum and stared at her wide-eyed, as if he’d been cornered. Enya felt the smallest flicker of relief; at least he wasn’t going to be fanning the flames of reconciliation, as managing Holly’s expectations was still her biggest concern. His expression was that of a man who felt trapped, no doubt, obligated even, but whose heart was most definitely in the hands of another woman.
The baby book was duly deposited on the tabletop. It was as Enya might have expected, exquisitely crafted with care and attention to detail. A hessian-backed book with cream pages, each with space for a photograph or a pocket for a keepsake, and in the style of a scrap book; Holly’s beautiful calligraphy graced each page.
‘You can help, and we can fill in the gaps.’ Holly took a gel pen from the front pocket of her bag and opened the book. ‘Right, this is where we put any ideas for girls’ names.’ She tapped the pen on her cheek. ‘I’ve already put Eloise, Jemima, Daisy and Amelia – are there any you’d like to add?’ She smiled at Aiden, who looked a little pale.
‘I don’t... don’t know, can I think about it?’ His voice now no more than a whisper.
‘Okay, let me know.’ Holly turned the page. ‘And for me this is a no-brainer, I was thinking for a boy, we should go with Jonathan Philip Brown, Jonny for short. I think your dad would have likedthat and it means he’s connected to our son, if it’s a boy. We can tell him all about his grandad who was brilliant at Battleships, knew loads about music of the eighties, and was rubbish at growing tomatoes! What do you think?’
Enya smiled; she knew Jonathan would be touched, and that he’d find the summary of his life more than a little amusing.
‘I . . .’
Aiden seemed to sway a little in his chair and Enya feared he might fall to the floor.
‘It’s all right, love. Take a deep breath.’
Rushing to the tap, she ran him a glass of cold water, knowing that this heat and being even a little dehydrated didn’t help when you were feeling overwhelmed.
There was a knock at the front door.
