‘They’re all over the place,’ he responds.
‘Exactly. So, it’s all good, I suppose. There’ll be things to sort out, challenges I’m sure, but on the whole, I’m pretty excited. I never expected this, Guy, but I do want it. More than I can say. I’m just scared, really – that if I tell people, it will become real. I’m not sure I’m ready for that yet. I was pregnant once before, years ago, and even though I did everything right, it still went wrong. This time, I guess I’m trying to ignore it for as long as possible. I’m not even letting myself believe it just yet.’
‘I’m sorry, Suzie. That you went through that. Is this why you came home?’
‘That would make sense, wouldn’t it?’ I ask, shaking my head. ‘So obviously, no! Like I told you, I decided to come home after a little health scare. And on the way, I picked up an extra human being, or possibly two. I’ve been feeling okay, taking my vitamins, gave up drinking, all that good stuff – but other thanthat, I’ve been in denial. I should probably go and see a doctor sometime soon.’
He considers this, and nods. ‘You should. We can go tomorrow.’
‘We? There is no “we” in this Guy. I’m sorry my hormones ambushed you just then, but really, this isn’t your problem!’
‘Really?’ he asks, pointing a finger at me. ‘You use and abuse me like that, and then cast me aside? Of course there’s a “we” – we’re friends, aren’t we? If I was pregnant you’d do the same for me.’
‘If you were pregnant I’d be calling the Vatican to report a miracle, but yes. We’re friends, Guy. I just don’t want to be a burden on anybody.’
I’m starting to feel a bit too hot and bothered, and not in a good way. I pull open the zipper to the tent, and suck in some fresh air.
‘You’re not a burden, and this isn’t a problem. Let me help you, in any way I can. It’ll make me feel useful.’
‘You are useful. You can build extensions and drive vans and probably rescue puppies when they’re trapped down wells. I’m… well, I don’t know what I am. God, I wish I could drink right now!’
‘I’ll make you some tea,’ he replies, crawling out of the tent. I stare at his bum as he goes and immediately feel like a dirty old woman. Bloody hell, what is wrong with me?
I join him outside, enjoying the feel of the cool night air against my skin, sitting on the grass and watching as he hooks up his portable light and goes about his business. He’s efficient and practiced, and it doesn’t take long for me to have a little metal mug between my hands. We drink our tea in silence, and I have no clue where his thoughts take him. Mine are like one of the chase sequences in an episode of Benny Hill, chaotic and never-ending.
I sigh, and lie down flat on the grass, taking some deep breaths and closing my eyes for a few moments. He joins me, and I smile as his hand slips into mine, holding my fingers in a gentle squeeze. It doesn’t feel sexual, just warm and reassuring and present. A little gift from the universe.
‘It’s incredible here,’ he says, and I turn to see him gazing upwards. There’s no traffic out here, no people, no light pollution. Just a stunning sky above us, deep blues and purples, studded with sparkling stars. I nod and let the majesty of the heavens calm me even further. Me, Guy, the stars. It really does feel like we might be the only people on the planet right now.
‘You said this wasn’t my problem,’ he says after a few moments. ‘And I get why you feel like that. We’re not good at reaching out, are we? Whatever the reasons, we don’t deal well with feeling dependent on others. But I don’t see this as a problem, or you as a burden, or any of this as some awful weight that might drag me down. I’m not such a noble person, Suzie – I wouldn’t offer to help if I didn’t want to do it. So, whatever you need, whatever you want, I’m here.’
‘You can’t say that,’ I remind him, keeping my tone quiet and reasonable. ‘You can’t promise that, Guy, and I’d never ask you to. We’ve only known each for a short amount of time, and during that time, we’ve both talked about how hard we find it to stay in one place, even though we’re both really trying to. What was the term we used? “Flight risk.”’
‘But we’re both still here, aren’t we? Both helping keep each other grounded. Look, there’s no pressure here. I know I’m not this baby’s father, and I know that this is a pretty messed up situation in many ways. I’m not going to intrude, or impose myself into your life, Suzie – I’m just saying I’m here, for as much or as little as you want me to be.’
He sounds so genuine, and part of me desperately wants to believe him. Much as I’ve been telling myself that everything willbe fine, I am scared. I am anxious. I am lonely, despite being at home in the heart of the village where I was born. I have confided in Guy when I have confided in nobody else, and it is to him that I turned when I was struggling earlier. He’s right, we are very much friends – and even though he might not be here forever, he is here now. Holding my hand, lying beneath the stars, helping me breathe.
Maybe we’ll just see where life takes us. Maybe we’ll just put one foot in front of the other, and hope for the best.
ELEVEN
Ella – or Dr Farrell as she is technically known – has her GP surgery tucked away inside the community centre. All of the usual paraphernalia is here – BP monitors and weighing scales and boxes full of swabs – and Ella is wearing a very professional-looking stethoscope around her neck. All the signs point to her actually being a real doctor. Still, I have my doubts – do real doctors have their own kids in the room with them, in this case a super-cute toddler called Kitty? And do real doctors have a fake skeleton in the corner wearing a pink feather boa, a top hat and shades? And do real doctors talk to someone called Cookie Monster on a walkie-talkie?
‘Sorry about that,’ she says, putting the device down. ‘It was just Connie. You know how the signal is around here, so we have the walkies as backup. Connie, as you can imagine, insisted on code names.’
‘I can imagine. I like it. What’s yours?’
‘Dr Zhivago. So – Kitty, sweetheart, take that out of your mouth! They’re Larry’s, not yours!’
Her daughter glares up at her in the defiant way that spells a huge amount of trouble brewing in the years ahead. Ella extricates the foreign object – a dog treat – and shakes herhead as she deposits it in the bin. She passes Kitty a bag of carrot sticks instead, which she proceeds to tip all over the floor and arrange into shapes. It’s absolutely exhausting watching this whole routine, never mind being part of it.
‘Sorry! She’s supposed to be with Jake today, but his dad isn’t well, so he’s had to go and visit him. I’m trying to avoid putting a video on my tablet for her, but I’m already starting to realise why so many parents depend on them.’
I’ve been sitting here for ten minutes, and so far we’ve barely managed to exchange more than a couple of cohesive sentences. Kitty is busy trying to insert a carrot stick into her ear when there’s a knock on the door, and a woman called Lucy pops her head into the room. Lucy is an old university friend of Ella’s, who also happened to fall in love with her brother-in-law, Josh. She and her daughter Rose – Goth girl, I now know – moved here from Ireland. Lucy is now in partnership with Dr Wong, the village vet, and Rose works with Archie. It’s a complex web of life that ties this place together, and I remind myself that I am now part of it, adding my own gossamer strands.
‘Hiya!’ Lucy says, nodding towards Kitty. ‘I finished up early and wondered if you needed a hand?’
‘Yes!’ says Ella with very unmaternal gusto. ‘Please, take her! I’ll be done in an hour or so if you want to bring her back to the inn? I’ll pay you in wine.’
