He’s got me there. ‘It used to. But then I changed it around, so now it means those are my fertile days.’
‘Jeez, Bertie! What the hell?’ His voice is so full of horror he might have read my mind just before, but he can’t have.
Ten more days – maybe less – then I’ll never see him again. It’s amazing how liberating that thought is when it comes to frankness and spilling secrets. ‘I’m sure I’ll change it back again soon. It’s just being around so many kids in St Aidan has really made me want a family of my own.’
He practically chokes. ‘Cripes! I don’t know if I’ll ever have kids.’
It’s great that we covered this. The extremity of his reaction is making the fact he just closed me down feel like a lucky break. ‘Really? Why ever not? Don’t tell me – your taste in music is too bad to pass it on?’
‘Of all people, I’d think it would be obvious to you.’ He gives an eye roll. ‘I screwed it up so badly with you, what if it happened again?What if I failed the kids in the same way?No, children are definitely off the table, I could never trust myself to get it right.’
There are images flashing through my brain. I’m thinking of toddlers, six-year-olds, ten-year-olds, teenagers. All miniature versions of Ross, all as adorable and irresistible as he is. I raise my palm, rest it against his face. ‘One day you might want to rethink that. Forget the past – what about all the donut evenings you’ve come to, all the boxes of kitchen equipment you’ve hauled up and down the stairs at Seaspray Cottage, all the times you rush off to the rescue with animal emergencies? You really are the most reliable guy I’ve ever met. For the man you are now, I honestly can’t think of anyone who would make a better dad.’ He’s just been super clear about where we stand, so he knows I’m talking generically here and definitely not for myself.
In fact now it comes to it, the thought of him having a baby with someone other than me is pretty crippling. But at least I won’t be around to see that.
He leans his face into my hand. ‘Stop, before the compliments go to my head! Thanks for the reassurance, but it’s still not on my to-do list for any time soon.’
Another thought powers into my head, and as steel fingers close around my stomach and make me feel sick, I’m kicking myself for not realising sooner. ‘It’s Elise, isn’t it? You two are more than just work colleagues, aren’t you? You’re an item!’
His face folds in disbelief, then it relaxes into a laugh. ‘Hardly! Elise has a lovely girlfriend who lives in Rose Hill. You’ve been here three months, how have you missed that?’
If I wasn’t so frozen, I’d be bright red with mortification for everything I’ve given away with that comment. As it is, my blood vessels are too cold for my cheeks to be anything other than ghost-coloured. As for the whoosh of relief that’s flooding through me, I’m not going to own up even to myself how big that is. It doesn’t matter anyway. But it’ll easier for me when I’m sitting in my nice, new-to-me studio flat if I don’t have to think of him with his arms entwined around an actual specific person.
I cough away my embarrassment and take back my hand. ‘Anyway, did you say earlier you had something to run past me?’
His eyebrows rise, then his eyes cloud again. ‘I may have done, but we’ve probably moved on from that now.’ He brightens up. ‘You know those ideas, they seem brilliant when you have them, then you think again and realise they’re total crap. It was one of those.’
That’s the end ofthatconversation then, but I can’t bear the thought of silence. ‘If you want to do a Rolling Stones singalong until the rain stops, I know all the words to “Gimme Shelter”. Or “The Man Who Sold the World”.’
He sniffs. ‘The David Bowie version, or the Kurt Cobain one?’
Seeing how well he knows my teenage self, I’m surprised he has to ask. ‘Kurt Cobain, obviously.’
He just stares down at me. ‘How about Dolly Parton’s “I Will Always Love You”?’
Oh frig. I’m word-perfect, and he knows too. How the hell can I tell him that’s the one song I couldn’t manage now? I’m digging deep, summoning up my excuses, when there’s a distant thumping that gets louder, and then the notes of a car engine coming along the lane.
Just to be sure no one arriving gets the wrong impression, I take a jump and land a clear three feet away from Ross. Then I send him my best ‘Hi, I’m Cressida Cupcake’ beam. ‘Expecting visitors?’
He looks at his watch and his face slides into a smile. ‘Any time around now Jen should be dropping by with Walter and Joanie on the way back from Walter’s hospital appointment. That was the other thing I came to tell you about.’
I’m imagining how this would have played out if my fantasy had gone to plan, and at this moment I’d been straddling Ross halfway up the hay stack.
Which only goes to prove, you should be careful what you wish for, though at the same time it reassures me that I probably do have a secret fairy godmother after all. And more than that, however crap I feel right now, I know she must be really looking out for me.
38
At Walter’s farm
Great expectations and long goodbyes
Thursday
‘What’s happened to you two? You look like you’ve been dipped in the duck pond!’
Walter appears round the corner of the house first, bobbing up and down as he walks with a stick in each hand, then Jen and Joanie come into view a few moments later, Joanie in her smart flowery going-out dress, and Jen in jeans, Doc Martens sandals and a fluorescent pink and green tie-dye T-shirt.
Ross is right about the changeable weather. Not only has the rain stopped, but the sun is breaking through the clouds and making steam rise from the stone flags in front of the farmhouse.
