She frowns and tilts her head to one side. ‘Is that what he said? That it would be something casual?’
‘Um… I think so?’
She gives me a look that makes me feel like I’m back with my maths teacher. Maybe she has a point. I replay the conversation that Guy and I had last night, trying to remember the exact wording. What he said, and the way he said it.
‘He said we were friends,’ I tell Cally, my hand going to my own face, recalling the way it felt when he touched me. ‘Until maybe I decided I was ready for more.’
She sighs and leans back in her chair. She looks a little misty-eyed.
‘Oh. That’s really lovely, isn’t it? Saying you’re friends for as long as it suits you, but making it clear that for him, it’s more than friendship. That’s the best of both worlds right there. Why are you looking so concerned?’
‘Because this is all a bit more complicated than I imagined. Because I need to just concentrate on me and the baby right now and not be derailed by this other stuff. I’m not a teenager with a crush; I’m a grown woman who is growing another whole human being inside her. And because my hormones are all over the place, and I can’t seem to think straight…’
She laughs at me, which is annoying. I hope it hurts.
‘I don’t think it’s just your hormones, Suzie. At least not just your pregnancy hormones. And besides, thinking straight is overrated. You look way too bothered by all of this, and I suspect it’s because you’re not even sure what you want yourself. Okay, so finding someone special when you’re pregnant with another man’s baby isn’t right up there on the ideal meet-cute scenarios, I admit – and I know timing is pretty important in life – but it’s not something to be worried about, is it? What’s the worst that could happen?’
Death, destruction, the shifting of tectonic plates, tsunamis, volcanos, plagues of locusts. Or maybe something a little more mundane, something that feels almost as threatening.
‘I could hurt him,’ I say simply. ‘Or he could hurt me.’
It sounds so childish when I say it out loud. The risk of hurt is part of the human condition, I know that logically. But I’m starting to realise that I’ve spent so much of my life trying to avoid it that I’ve missed out on so much. On being with my family, on building proper relationships, of putting down roots. I rejected all of those things because I was scared of losing them, like I lost my mum. Like I lost my babies, and like I lost David. I couldn’t face that kind of pain again, so I closed myself down.
Now I’m pregnant, and there is no way to stay closed down to that. I feel raw, vulnerable and exposed, made up of a million hopes and dreams and fears. My hand drifts to my stomach, to the precious creature growing in there. There can be no more running, no more emotional safety – I am at the mercy of this baby now, and that is terrifying.
Cally scoots her chair over to me, and wipes tears from my face with a make-up wipe. I didn’t even notice that I was crying.
‘It’s okay,’ she says gently, soothing me. ‘It’ll all be okay. I’m sorry I made you talk about it all.’
‘That’s all right. I probably needed to anyway. I… Look, I think I need to go. I need to find Guy and sort this out.’
‘Are you sure?’ she asks, frowning. ‘You could just hide out here all day. We could watch movies. I’ve gotThe Fifth Elementon DVD, that always cheers me up. OrIndependence Day! That’s a great one for blocking out reality! OrHighlander, eighties classic. I heard they’re remaking that with Henry Cavill in it. I almost fainted when I found out.’
Cally is a big fan of sci-fi, and her genuine enthusiasm makes me smile. ‘Some other time for sure,’ I tell her. ‘Maybe aMatrixmarathon?’
‘I’ll hold you to that,’ she says, getting up and walking me to the door. ‘We can wear leather trench coats.’
She gives me a quick hug before I leave, squeezing me tight before she finally lets go. ‘It will all be okay, I promise.’
I give her a quick kiss on the cheek, and smooth down her wayward hair. ‘Thank you, Cally. You are such a lovely person. I can’t tell you how glad I am to have you in this family.’
She blushes slightly but looks delighted. I leave, walking down the garden path awash with a weird mix of both settled and strange. I do see Cally as family now, and more importantly, I don’t think of ‘family’ as a dirty word any more. It is no longer something I am running from, something I feel burdened by, something I am afraid of. Now, I think of it as something that comes in all shapes and sizes, something that might not be perfect, but which offers me love and support and comfort.
Guy is part of that family and I don’t want to let things fester between us. I don’t want to feel awkward around him, or to have any doubts, or to do the stupid thing I’ve done in the past where I avoid a situation rather than deal with it, because it’s just too potentially painful. I ran away from home when I was young, and that was part of my process – part of making me who I became. Like my mum always knew, it was something Ineeded to do – to have my wild travels, to roam, to be free. I was different than the others, and she was right – it was okay to be different.
But I stayed away for far too long because I was scared. Of coming back to a place that reminded me too much of her and being overwhelmed by that loss. Of coming back to people I felt I’d let down. I didn’t feel I deserved to come home, and as the years went by that hardened into an emotional callous that I used to protect myself. As those years passed, it got tougher and tougher to consider returning. I was too afraid of facing it, too afraid of being rejected. If I’d only reached out sooner, I’d have known that fear was unfounded.
I can’t change the past, but I can make sure that I don’t make the same silly mistakes again. I know what I have to do.
I go back to the café and find a tired-looking Sophie on duty behind the counter. Apparently Connie and Sam are having a snooze in the stockroom, and I’m glad of that. I feel quite determined right now, and don’t want to get distracted. I order more coffee – black, no sugar, the way he takes it – and more sweet treats, including some extra for Evan. I am very much the goddess of hot beverages and baked goods today, it seems.
I walk around the back of the village, seeing Archie and the girls as I pass the greenhouse. He’s staring miserably into a big bag of compost, while Lilly and Meg copy dance moves from a video they’re watching on their tablet. Their plaits are flying, they’re screeching with laughter, and I can hear the thumping beat of the music from here. I wave to him and he manages a weak salute in return. His fate is sealed.
I stroll up through the field, passing the sunflowers as I go. I pause to appreciate how majestic they are, swaying in the mild breeze, their bright orange heads bouncing on thick green stalks. The day is fresh and warm, the hum of insects in the air, the gentle soundtrack of the waves rolling into the bay offering amurmuring backdrop. I look up, feel the sun on my skin, and smile. Like Cally said, it will all be okay.
I spot Guy sitting outside the tent. He’s clothed this time, in a battered pair of Levis and a plain white T-shirt. He’s holding a book but looks too exhausted to actually be reading. I wave as I walk towards him, and he immediately holds his finger to his mouth in a ‘shush’ gesture. I don’t usually appreciate being shushed by a man, but I know he had Evan overnight so there might be extenuating circumstances.
He points inside the tent flap as I approach, and I smile when I see Evan’s little blonde head poking out of a sleeping bag. His arms are thrown out at his sides, and he’s wearing the cutest pyjamas covered in tiny dinosaurs. His hair is ruffled, his cheeks rosy, and he’s letting out little puffing snores. The very picture of innocence – while he’s asleep at least.
