Neither Alex nor I have any illusions that this is a love match, and we are both too old and too experienced to think we need to try and make it more than it is. So while there won’t be wedding bells or even sharing space on the same continent at the moment, it does at least feel like a solid collaboration. I’ve always liked him, and we’ve both committed to navigating our way through this unexpected maze with honesty and integrity.
As accidental baby-daddies go, it could have been far worse. He is a doctor, and a rather handsome devil too, so the genetics are good. At least on the surface. I don’t really know much about his family, other than his dad being Spanish and his mother British. I briefly considered asking him to send a DNA sample for the gene-mapping project Dan has been working on, but the logistics might be tricky – Dan has prowled around the village pouncing on everybody with his little sample sticks, but South Sudan seems a long way to go to collect evidence.
I do spend time wondering what our baby will look like. Will he or she have my red hair and blue eyes? Or his more Mediterranean appearance? I don’t really care, I decide. Though if it’s a girl, I do hope she doesn’t have his beard.
Thinking about beards reminds me of Guy, who has started to sport some rather fascinating golden stubble recently. It makes him look even more rugged and manly, and I occasionally find myself wondering what it would feel like against my skin if he kissed me.
This, of course, is a totally off-limits concept, and I always give myself a thorough telling off when I allow my dirty mindto drift off in that direction. I am the one who made the choice for us to just be friends, and that really is enough for me. In fact, it’s amazing – a blessing, a completely unexpected boon from the universe – finding this man here at exactly the time I needed him. Yes, I also find him deeply attractive, but that’s just physical. That’s just sex, which frankly I could get elsewhere. Our relationship is something bigger than that, better than that, and I know I made the right choice.
We have been there for each other over the last few weeks, always ready with pep talks when needed, always on hand for blowing off steam, for walks along the beach and emergency drives along the coast.
We’ve both had our wobbles. Mine came when I was clearing out a cupboard at my dad’s and found a photo album from Sandy and Archie’s wedding. I’d been there on a flying visit but spent the whole day waiting for the moment that I could escape. Being there had been too raw, too painful, the wounds of losing my mum reopening and bleeding out. Now, I wish I’d tried harder. It was the last time I saw my sister, and in some ways that was good – she was blissfully happy, which is not a bad way to remember somebody. But I missed so much and will always feel the sting of that loss.
I sat on the sofa, staring at the pictures, silently crying. The sadness threatened to swallow me whole, and I know from bitter experience that when that happens, it takes me a long time to find myself again. I’d sent Guy an emergency SOS, and within half an hour we were away in the van, heading for an iron age hill fort so secluded that only sheep ever find it. We walked, and talked, and sat for hours looking out at the landscape. It was what I needed – a safety valve, a way of wiping the emotional slate clean so I could carry on with a sense of peace.
He had a low point when he got a phone call from an old friend, offering him a job in Tanzania. Being offered the jobwasn’t the issue – it was how Miranda reacted when he told her about it. Apparently she’d barely reacted at all, simply shrugging and telling him he had to do whatever he felt was for the best.
Guy was emotionally mature enough to understand that she didn’t necessarily mean it – that she was possibly covering up a deeper response, that she was reluctant to show him any weakness. Their relationship has improved vastly, but he knows there will always be some fundamental caution on her part, an unwillingness to rely on him fully, and that hurts. ‘It’s easier building her a home than building her trust,’ he’d said. ‘I don’t blame her, and I’m not going to run – but it’s not easy. I could just say yes to the job and go back to doing something I’m actually good at, where I don’t disappoint people.’
We’d borrowed Bear from Connie and Zack and talked it over on a long walk along the coastal path to a little town called Charmouth. I tried hard not to hijack the conversation by begging him to stay, Bear peed on a lot of rocks, and Guy spoke in fits and starts.
He needed to get the feeling out of his system, to exorcise it, and it was my job as his friend to help him with that. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel a little flurry of fear at the idea of him leaving, though, and the activity I suggested as the ultimate catharsis was as much for me as him. We hired hammers and goggles from the little shop on the beach and went fossil hunting.
We didn’t find any fossils, but there was something supremely satisfying about smashing things up with little metal tools. By the time we got back to Starshine, he was calm again and planning to go and talk to Miranda and reassure her he was going nowhere anytime soon.
Today, it looks like the two of them are making progress. Work has finally finished on her extension, and naturally enough that is cause for a celebration. Guy had beenembarrassed about it, reluctant to engage with any kind of ceremony, but Connie told him firmly that he had no choice in the matter.
‘I know you haven’t been here long, Guy,’ she’d explained, ‘but surely you’ve realised that resistance is futile? Starshine Cove never turned its back on a bit of a do, and this is as good a reason as any. So stop complaining, be strong, and get your party pants on.’
Now, everyone is gathered around the back of Trevor’s Emporium, and Trevor himself has supplied party poppers, hats, blowers, and an enormous confetti cannon. We’re all waiting for Miranda’s brand-new front door to open, and when it does, predictable chaos will ensue.
Miranda is obviously more of an old hand at this kind of thing and makes sure that Guy emerges a step ahead of her. A huge racket immediately breaks out, everybody cheering and shouting, the poppers exploding, and the cannon showering him in tiny pink confetti stars. He looks understandably shocked and freezes on the spot as the celebration continues around him.
James is standing with us, holding Evan’s hand, but he lets him go so he can toddle over to his mum. She lifts him up and kisses him, before turning to Guy. ‘Thank you,’ she says simply. ‘For everything. For coming to find me. For staying. For the bang bang fix.’
I can see that Guy is moved and trying very hard to be macho about it and not cry in public. This is extra tough when you have pink confetti in your hair. Luckily, he is soon swamped with people, all pushing past and wanting guided tours of the new place. I know this might take a while, as there are a lot of people, and it is still quite a small apartment. He disappears inside, and I smile as I watch him go. He cast one desperate look in my direction as the human tidal wave engulfed him. Ha, I think, wandering off towards the green. Welcome to Starshine!
I’ve already seen inside the new abode, and truth be told I’m not feeling great. So far I’ve had a fairly easy pregnancy, apart from the worry of it all. I never really had morning sickness, I’ve had no cravings, and the only symptom I’d really noticed was soreness in the booby area. I’ve been lucky, I suppose – possibly assisted by the fact that for the first few months, I simply pretended it wasn’t happening.
Today, though, I woke up tired after a restless evening. I kept finding myself annoyingly conscious every hour or so, and of course every time it happened I then needed to go for a wee. I’d tiptoe along the landing, not wanting to disturb my dad, and then clamber back into bed exhausted. I did this on rinse and repeat for pretty much the whole night, and today I’m paying the price for all the fun and games.
I sit down on one of the benches at the edge of the village green and take a few deep breaths, placing my hands on my now distinctly curved belly. I suppose I might as well get used to the sleepless nights and the restless bladder, as both seem to be part of the territory when it comes to motherhood. Literally every mum I know has always been obsessed with finding the nearest toilet.
I decide to head back home for a little rest, knowing that my dad is out of the house and will in all likelihood remain so for the next few hours. I’m guessing that once everybody has paraded through Miranda’s newly swished up home, there may well be a follow up celebration at the inn. ‘Any excuse for daytime drinking’ should be the Starshine Cove civic slogan.
I spot Ella walking over, emerging from the side of the café, and she gives me a wave as she heads in my direction. She’s wearing her running gear, and the sand on her trainers tells me she’s been down at the beach. I missed my calling – I should have been a detective.
I hoist myself up to have a chat with her and immediately have a little wobble. One of those head rushes you get when you stand too quickly, and the world goes whoosh. I grab hold of the back of the bench, steadying myself. I really do not feel great at all.
‘You okay?’ she asks, immediately concerned.
‘Um, I think so. Didn’t sleep well and then got a bit dizzy. It’s gone now. Just one of those things, I’m sure.’
She frowns a little, then nods. ‘I’m sure you’re right. Are you coming over to the pub for the party? The one that nobody has officially planned but we all know is about to happen?’
I laugh and shake my head. ‘No, at least not right now. Think I’m going to head back to the cottage and have a little snooze. I might pop in later, just to see exactly how drunk everyone is. Possibly get some video evidence of them doing the Cha Cha Slide while inebriated.’
‘That’s the only time anybody ever does the Cha Cha Slide, to be fair… but okay, I get it. I still remember that feeling, like the whole world is hammered and you’re the only sober person left alive. It’s not a huge amount of fun. Come on, I’ll walk back with you.’
