‘Don’t be daft. Double standards need not apply here – we never promised each other anything, did we? So you didn’t know, when I visited?’
‘Och no! Not for a while. I’m forty-six, Rory, I thought such things were behind me, you know? I never wanted kids when I was younger, and by the time I started to think it might not be such a terrible fate, I’d got divorced and couldn’t bear the thought of being with someone seriously again. No, I was happy by myself, and I still am… except I’m not quite by myself any more.’
‘No, you’re not. Are you scared?’
‘Absolutely bricking it! It’s why I’ve come home. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier. We’ve both been busy with work, and I only found out when I was four months gone… thought my irregular periods were down to my time of life. Ironic. Then when I did know, I wasn’t sure what was going to happen, what I wanted… and there was a scare, a bleed, a time in hospital. None of which seemed appropriate chatter for a text. I mean, what’s the emoji for all of that? No, I decided that when I was home, I’d just come and tell you everything. That maybe you could give me a foot massage, and maybe, if you didn’t find me too physically disgusting, we could even pick things up where we left off. Let me tell you, hormones are a bitch…’
I slip my arm around her shoulder and give her a quick hug before moving slightly away. No need for mixed signals, we can be honest with each other. ‘I can only imagine. But things have changed here too, Catrina.’
She looks up at me, feigning shock. ‘Don’t tell me you’re pregnant too!’
‘Nope. But I am in love. Madly, wildly, totally in love. Drowning in it. Up to my eyeballs in it. Absolutely, one hundred per cent gone.’
A pause, a look. Maybe a moment of sadness – of us both acknowledging that what we had has passed. And that even though we were never destined to be a great love story, we meant something to each other. There was respect, and shared interests, and friendship.
‘Well now,’ she says, ‘that sounds like something that needs celebrating. Take me to the pub, and I’ll watch you drink a Guinness. After I’ve called into that gorgeous wee bookshop of yours.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes. I’m pregnant, not disabled. Come on – bookshop first!’
We head to the Edge of the World, and get an update on Moira from a very curious Kate. She chats to Catrina about her pregnancy, and recommends a few books – all while very admirably not questioning me. Afterwards, Catrina comes to look at the murals, and my heart sings when I see the newly painted animals. I knew she’d do them eventually. ‘That’s Jane’s work,’ I tell Catrina proudly, pointing to the perfect owl family. Catrina’s tastes are more avant-garde, but she still enthuses. Next I show her the gallery, which she falls in love with, and then we wander along the waterfront to the Kestrel. She has a fizzy water, and I stick to an orange juice myself.
‘You look twitchy,’ she says after a few minutes. ‘Desperate to get back to the missus?’
I am, truthfully. Apart from anything else, I need to explain what’s going on to Jane before she hears about it some other way. Rosie saw us, Kate saw us, and now we’ve been in the pub for a while – that’s pretty much like putting out a formal announcement around these parts. I’m surprised I haven’t had Moira on the phone haranguing me already. I nod, grinning. Catrina gets it. She stands to her feet, planting them wide apart for balance.
She looks beautiful – her skin fresh and clear, her hair glossy, her smile genuine. ‘I’d best be off anyway. Thanks for this morning, Rory. I’m a bit disappointed not to be getting some top quality sex, but it’s been good to talk. I don’t think I’d realised how much I needed that – a friend to unload on. I’ll head back to Edinburgh but I’ll stay in touch.’
‘You don’t have to go. It’s a long way, and apparently you need to pee every seven minutes. You could meet Jane.’
‘Well, I’d love to meet Jane – the woman who finally tamed Rory Callaghan! – but I’m not sure now is the right time, eh? Maybe not something to dump on her without warning. Fill her in, and then maybe we could all meet up? I’m probably going toneed to move out of my flat, and it might be useful to have some help from a big strong man who has a van…’
‘Not a problem. You just let me know, and I’ll be there. I’ll bring a whole village full of big strong men with me, and you won’t have to lift a finger. You just concentrate on growing another human being inside your body…’
We’re both silent for a moment, and then she laughs. ‘I am doing that, aren’t I? I still can’t quite decide if it’s a beautiful miracle, or really gross…’
‘Maybe both,’ I say, as we head back to the car. I wrap her up in a hug, and drop a gentle kiss on the top of her head. I meet her eyes. ‘It’ll all be okay, Catrina. And you’re not alone.’
Catrina has left, tooting her horn as she drives off. I stand outside the house for a moment, staring down at the bay. I need to take a breath. That was a lot – a bloody big bastard of a rollercoaster. I glance at my watch, see that I’ve been gone for almost two hours. Hopefully Jane will have gone back to sleep, or be pottering around the house. Hopefully I can make it up to her, that sudden departure this morning. Explain to her that I felt ambushed, had no idea what was going on. That I couldn’t wait to get back to her.
I’m also pondering the thought of children, as I let myself in and shout her name. We’ve not discussed it. We’ve not had time to formulate life plans beyond one day at a time, but I wonder if that’s something she’d be interested in? I mean, it doesn’t matter if she’s not – if Beth is enough for her, then she will be enough for me. I love Jane and I want to spend the rest of my life with her, with or without kids. I want her as my partner, not a baby machine. But she is younger than Catrina, so who knows? It could still be possible, if that is something she is interested in…
I pause in the hallway, listening out. Hoping for a snatch of a quiz show from the living room, or the sound of her clattering away in the kitchen. Nothing. Huh. Asleep, or in the shower, or maybe in the studio… she could even have gone out, now I come to think of it, maybe off to see Moira? She usually parks her car at the side of the building, and I can’t remember if it was there or not.
I run up the stairs, hoping she’s still in bed. Hoping I can shed these annoying clothes I’m wearing, climb under the covers, take up where we left off this morning. Then later, I will tell her all about Catrina – and she will very possibly laugh at me for my dumbstruck moment of panic when I first saw her. I knew Catrina saw other people, so logically, I shouldn’t have assumed it was mine – but when a woman you last had sex with six months ago turns up on your doorstep with a pretty big bun in the oven, you have to wonder…
I shout Jane’s name again, and head along the landing. I pass the room that used to be hers, and the door is wide open. I glance inside, and see that it looks bare of her clutter. Even though she has spent every night in my bed recently, she’s kept most of her stuff in here. I stand in the doorway now, and frown at what I see. The wardrobe is open and empty. The dresser is free of her make-up and hairbrush. The suitcase that has lived in the corner has gone. Has she taken it all to my room?
I hope so. I desperately hope so – but there is a sick feeling starting to creep into my gut, a physical nausea that tells me all is not well. I push open the door to my room, hoping against hope to see her there. Lying in my bed, waiting for me. Holding out her arms and welcoming me. Sharing that beautiful smile of hers, the one that promises the world…
She’s not here. The bed is neat and tidy, the curtains are open. The sun floods the room, shining on the white envelope on the pillow.
I hate that envelope. I hate what every instinct in my body tells me it means.
If she’d just been nipping out for the messages, or off to see Moira, she’d have texted. And she wouldn’t have taken her suitcase. She wouldn’t have handwritten a note, and left it here for me to find like this. My mind flashes back, rewinding to that day so many years ago – leaving to meet Jane at the train station. Full of hope and excitement at the adventure we were about to embark upon. Leaving a note for my family to find later, one that I now know was used against me.
I bite the inside of my cheek so hard I taste blood. I force myself to walk towards it, that simple envelope now looking like a prop from a horror film. A harbinger of doom. The end of our brief and foolish happiness.
