I know you like a challenge! We can talk. I can explain it all. Start soon? CWe’ve walked up over heathland behind Dawn’s house, past the local church, and we’re heading to the forest. Thank goodness Eric suggested a ‘bracing family walk’ – I had to get out of there. It’s beautiful out here; the view over the South Downs at Merchant Hills is one I’ll never tire of. No matter how much life gets me down, I love this scenery. And today with clumps of snow dotted across the hills like patches of cotton wool, it’s stunning; it’s as if someone has tipped glitter across the dark green hills as they shimmer in the sun with the snow.
It’s getting worse, the feeling in my stomach when I look at Daniel. I force my gaze over the horizon and try not to keep looking at him. He’s like a magnet to me; I can’t help staring at his broad shoulders and his sure footsteps in front of me. But my heart sinks: he knows about the surrogacy. I feel sick – and it’s not the pregnancy.
Suddenly, Pixie bounds off from Alice in front.
‘Help! I couldn’t keep hold of him! Pixie!’
‘Alice, honestly! What happened? He’ll get lost!’ Suzie has run up to her and is looking exasperated.
‘Don’t worry, I’m sure his dog Reiki will help him find his way back,’ mutters Rex, marching past us.
‘Listen, I’ll grab him.’ Daniel starts to jog after the little fluff ball as he disappears into the forest.
I stop and take in a lungful of air and breathe out deeply. The kids are bickering in front of me about whose fault it was.
‘Well, you’re just stupid, you let the dog go!’ Felix is firing his Nerf Gun at Alice’s legs and she’s started to pout.
‘We’ll keep going, OK?’ Dawn is ahead of me, shouting at the kids to come along.
I nod at her. ‘I’ll wait for Daniel.’
As I wait my feet get cold and I start to stamp them on the ground to keep warm. When I look up at the little snow-covered path through the trees, I can just make out Daniel carrying Pixie under his arm. The little dog is yapping loudly and trying to lick his face. Daniel’s laughing as he emerges through the trees.
He comes up to me and brushes snow off his jacket. ‘He’s fast!’ His breath turns to a hazy smoke in the frosty air.
‘Yes.’ I smile. ‘And I probably shouldn’t run…’ I look down at my belly, not knowing where else to look. ‘It feels a bit odd,’ I say returning my gaze to his eyes.
‘I expect it does.’ He frowns and briskly starts up, adding: ‘Let’s keep walking.’
We walk for a while, our footsteps in time. Pixie is now back on his lead, yanking Daniel’s hand and sniffing in the bushes.
He breaks the silence first. ‘Tell me about your family, Charlie. What actually happened. You’ve just given me edited bits before, a bit like—’ But he checks himself and doesn’t finish. He must hate me, not telling him, keeping a secret, just when we… What must he think of me? I expect he’s just trying to avoid talking about the surrogacy. Talk about ‘elephant in the room’ – I’ve now placed a whole herd of them between Daniel and I. How are we going to recover from this?
‘Well, my “family” was a whole string of foster carers, like I said, and I never knew my real family. I never knew why my mum gave me away to care.’
‘That must hurt.’
I shrug. More than you’ll ever know. ‘Yes.’
‘Have you never wanted to find out who she is?’
‘I don’t always think digging up the past means a happy ending. I did contact an agency once,’ I say, remembering that awful phone call. How hopeful I’d become. ‘But they warned me that sometimes the birth mother doesn’t want to have anything to do with her birth children – and it just put me off. I didn’t know if I could face that – another rejection, after all the heartache, time and effort of actually finding her. Can you imagine? To be rejected once was bad enough… But then, it’s funny – going to Dawn’s house, you know, the tree, the kids… It’s all so perfect, well, it seems perfect to me. It’s hard not to wish my childhood could have been like that.’ I kick a stone out the way with my foot.
‘Not all families are perfect, Charlie. Things aren’t always what they seem – there are cracks in everyone’s lives. It’s just that some people are better than others at covering them up.’
Covering them up. He hates me.
We’re at a viewpoint looking across the hills. There are little splodges of purple, blue and green as kids whiz down the slope on sledges; like human Smarties hurtling down the hills.
‘But certainly, yours does seem to have had very deep cracks,’ he adds. He takes his hand out of his pocket and for a moment I think he’s going to take my hand, but he seems to think twice about it and shoves it back in his pocket again. ‘Do you want to talk about it?’
I shake my head. I can’t face any more bearing of the soul, especially when he’s just humouring me. ‘Not right now. Shall we catch them up?’ I have no idea what he thinks about me. I’m not going to mess it up even more by revealing these feelings, the ones I keep hidden. The ones that are like treasures in a jewellery box. One of those boxes with the little ballerina that comes out and twirls when you open the lid. I used to have one like that. Most of the time my beautiful ballerina was in the dark, hidden in the box – like my secrets – but when I sat in my room and opened it, she was glittering and bright and real, in her blue sparkly dress with a tiny piece of netting, twirling around for her audience. Who’s my audience? Who is my family?
No, I don’t want to tell Daniel that each time I went from foster family to foster family, I had prayed to myself that this time would be different, this time, they’d keep me, want me, that they weren’t just in it for the money. But every time I’d been disappointed, and I built up more and more of a shell, until finally they told me I was free to go, at eighteen. Then, along came Tyler…
We walk in time with each other; even Pixie seems to sense the mood is sombre and trots alongside us both quietly. The path meanders in and out of the trees.
‘It must be odd,’ I say, because I can’t stand the silence, ‘to be back here? All those memories? Of Lucy—’
‘It is odd to be back.’ He turns to me. ‘More than you’ll know…’ His eyes roam towards the trees and then back to me.
As I turn to him, I study his chestnut brown eyes, his long lashes and high cheekbones. I desperately want to reach out and touch his face, his beard. I keep thinking about how he held me, how he kissed me; the passion. How sublime it was to get lost in a sea of emotion. And now this. Wretched Joyce, blurting it all out. I could kill her. I wanted to, wanted to – what? I suddenly realise. Tell him I was carrying a baby for cash, explain that to him, quietly, in his car one day: sorry about all the laughs we are having, but this will all end in me having a baby and you’ll lose all respect for me. I feel dreadful.
There’s a sadness hidden beneath his eyes. I can see it at times in between the banter and the jokes. There have been several times when he’s changed the subject just as I seem to be getting closer to him. But what right do I have to pursue that now? I push my hands further into my pockets to stop myself reaching out. I want to ask him about it, but now isn’t the right time.
We stroll back along the path to where the others are waiting. The trees are laced with frost and the sky has turned milky. It’s getting late.
‘It’s always so beautiful here, isn’t it?’ He stops in his tracks and stares out to the horizon. Something is clearly troubling him and I just know it’s me.
Pixie suddenly barks and jumps up on his legs, spoiling the silence. Daniel’s trousers are covered in mud. He bends down, pats Pixie on the head. ‘You mucky dog, you!’ He tickles him under the chin, then turns and wanders off ahead of me, lost in thought.
*
Much later, after we said our awkward goodbyes in the car park, and Rex and Suzie had dropped me home in silence, I have my legs curled up on the sofa and am nearly falling asleep when suddenly I have an idea. A great idea. Daniel teaches people to drive. Maybe that way I’d have more time with him. See much more of him. And then I can explain all about the baby thing, so he didn’t think I was so bad. It would give me time to explain it all. Suzie must never find out – she’d be furious – but why not? This is my chance.
I send him a text with our usual smiley face emoji.
Can you teach me to drive? I know you like a challenge! We can talk. I can explain it all. Start soon? C
Should I add a kiss? Better not. I hug my knees. I can’t wait to get his reply.