Rachael lay soaking in the bath, a supreme indulgence on a Monday morning (even if it was a bank holiday). She’d opened the sash window to let out steam and the air that entered in return was fragrant with lilac. She dipped her head backwards and let her hair float around her in fronds. She was alone in the house. Matt had got up early to give Danny breakfast so she could sleep in and now he’d taken him down to the Prom on his bike.
She surfaced above the water again and let it ripple along the length of her body. She laid one hand on her abdomen, smooth, flat and unmarred. In the end it had been so simple. She had picked up her phone and cancelled the appointment with the Pregnancy Advisory Service. She didn’t need to consult anybody: her decision was made.
The fire had been horrific – Dan wasn’t the only one to have nightmares – but it had profoundly altered her perceptions. The sight of Matt going after Leo, the fear of losing him, made the worries that had loomed so large for her seem trifling and irrational. Matt’s affection, his support, his indestructible self-belief – all these helped to make her a better person. She couldn’t betray him. She loved her husband and she wanted to have his children.
It had occurred to her, on Friday, that Leo might remark on the fact that he’d offered to drive her to the clinic and now it was the other way around. But no, he was in mourning for his work and Rachael’s problems were irrelevant, erased from his memory. However, he let her run around after him and she was keen for Matt to see she was making an effort. She had also finally confided in Emma, who’d advised her to keep her reservations to herself. ‘Matt doesn’t need to know you had a wobble,’ she said. ‘Everybody wobbles. Just give him the good news. It’s what he’s been waiting for, isn’t it?’
Which was why, when she’d arrived home from Emma’s, it had been disturbing to find Matt so hard and alien. He wore no trace of his usual boyishness, but an air of suppressed wrath. Deep grooves were scored between his eyebrows and down either side of his nose.
‘Where the hell have you been?’ His tone was so aggressive she’d almost burst into tears on the spot.
She managed to contain herself until Leo left the room and then she’d confessed. The frown lines vanished. Matt’s eyes shone behind his glasses and his face split into a smile. ‘Oh my God!’ he exclaimed. ‘I never imagined…’
‘Didn’t you? Why not? I thought you wanted more kids.’
‘Sure I did. But we’d only just started trying. And they said it might take ages…’ Then the frown hovered again as if he were computing something. ‘So, what date?’
‘New Year’s Day. Do you reckon that’s a good omen?’
‘Definitely! When did you find out?’
This was where she had fudged her answer. ‘Well, I thought I might be pregnant a couple of weeks ago, but I didn’t want to take the test too soon. Emma had a spare kit so she let me use it today when we went back to hers after swimming.’
Matt had gathered her into his arms. ‘You’re not scared this time, are you?’
The feel of him, the thick brushed cotton of his shirt, the firm space between his neck and shoulder where she could lay her head – all these were infinitely consoling. ‘A bit.’
‘It’ll be fine. My mother will help out.’
‘Julia? Really?’
‘She was working when Dan was born. She has more freedom these days.’
‘Oh yes, I suppose she does.’ She added, ‘I’m sorry if I’ve been flaky and irritable lately, about Bel being here and then Leo. I didn’t mean to knock your family. You think I’ve been intolerant, don’t you? Put it down to the hormones.’
She couldn’t see his face but she felt him stiffen. ‘No,’ he said softly. ‘I think you’ve been a paragon of patience. Leo’s enough to drive anyone up the wall. Worse in his old age, without Julia to rein him in.’
‘I don’t want to kick him out,’ Rachael said. ‘Well, not until Bel gets back and needs the room.’ In truth, she was grateful to Leo. He’d taken her work seriously and encouraged her to see herself as an artist with a valuable talent. He had boosted her self-belief.
‘Frankly I can’t wait for him to go,’ Matt said, which had surprised her– but didn’t give her quite so much pleasure as his next pronouncement.
She lathered her limbs with soap and rinsed it off again. She reached for a towel with a thick deep pile and pulled out the bath plug. Above the gurgle of water draining she heard the slam of a door, Dan’s excited voice and Matt’s lower tones. They were back. Wrapped in the towel she leant across the basin and tweezered stray hairs from her brows. She massaged moisturiser into her face and body lotion into her legs. She needed to look after herself, Matt had insisted. He’d also said they could go ahead with the new kitchen.
‘Do you mean that? No kidding?’
‘Yeah, if we get onto it right away you’ll be able to use your new cooker for all those summer parties.’
All those summer parties was an exaggeration but she could pitch for more. And a revamped kitchen would make a big difference. ‘But what about the cost? Can we afford it?’
‘We can use the insurance pay-out.’
‘You mean for the garage?’
‘It won’t do the car any harm to stand outside at this time of year.’
‘What if they decide the fire was deliberate?’
‘We were the victims,’ he said. ‘And there’s not much anyone can do about Nathan because he’s under the age of criminal responsibility. He’s only nine.’
‘You know that for a fact?’
‘Yes, I checked with Kelly.’ His voice thickened. ‘We won’t be seeing those two again.’
‘That’s a relief.’
She folded the damp towel and hung it on the rail. Tomorrow she would pick up some paint charts, contact a joiner, make the house fit to bring up her family in. As she fastened her bra she noticed that her breasts were already feeling tender. She chose a button-through dress from her wardrobe, one that was not restrictive but made her feel as if she could waft through fields of wheat and barley like a girl in a shampoo advert.
When she went downstairs and into the kitchen she was pleased to find Danny slathering peanut butter on a slice of bread. Some years ago a health visitor had commented that he seemed under-nourished and Rachael had been mortified. Matt and Julia had both tried to reassure her: the health visitor was old school, traditional, insensitive; Danny was perfectly healthy, there was nothing wrong with his diet. But Rachael knew he was picky. He would leave vegetables at the side of his plate because he didn’t like the shape of them. He was much reedier than Caleb, Emma’s little boy. So the calorific peanut butter was an encouraging sight. So was the flush of colour in his cheeks.
‘Darling, you’re quite pink!’ she said.
‘So are you.’
‘That’s because I’ve been in the bath. Yours is a better sort of pink because it comes from being in the fresh air. How did it go?’
Immense pride infused every syllable: ‘Daddy says we can take the stabilisers off.’
‘That’s fantastic! Well done.’ She had visions of a bike toppling over, the front wheel spinning and a small boy trapped and wailing beneath the frame. She dismissed it.
‘He did great,’ said Matt. ‘He’s really gaining confidence.’
Rachael joined them at the table, picking grapes from the fruit bowl, watching with satisfaction as Danny demolished his sandwich. ‘Is Leo still around?’
‘No,’ said Matt. ‘He called a cab about the same time we went out. He’s gone to visit friends I think.’
‘I’m surprised he’s got any left.’ She wondered as soon as the words were out how Matt would take this, but he laughed.
‘I think it helps to have an ego the size of a mountain. Since they re-did his dressings and he can use his fingers again, he must have rung round his contacts until he found someone prepared to listen to him.’
‘So it’s just the three of us,’ said Rachael, the sweet grape juice bursting in her mouth. ‘What a treat.’ A family, chilling in their own home, without uninvited guests; a tranquil afternoon spread out before them, no commitments, no pressure, no conflict. ‘I thought I’d make a cake. Red velvet. You’d enjoy that, Dan, wouldn’t you? You can help me break the eggs and add the colouring while Daddy’s sorting out your bike.’
Like Rachael, Dan was enthralled by the way the magic of chemistry could transform a disparate heap of ingredients into a stunning centrepiece (although he ran off as soon as the layers were put in the oven). When everything came together it was as though the planets had aligned in her favour. This was what she could do; this was what she was good at. She beat the icing vigorously, energised and even a little excited about her future. Covering the icing bowl with cling film and leaving the cake to cool, she wandered outside.
Unfortunately Matt was having less success. Sweaty and cursing on the front driveway, he was still struggling to unscrew the nuts on the bike’s stabilisers. Danny was hopping up and down in impatience. As the spanner slipped and clattered to the ground for the nth time, a Renault Megane drew up and parked outside. Bel got out of the passenger seat and hoisted her luggage from the boot.
It gave Rachael a shock to recognise her own suitcase. She’d forgotten she’d lent it and she was sure she spotted a streak of black grime where none had been before. But she wouldn’t make a fuss; she wouldn’t allow a scrap of dirt to destroy her mood. As Bel approached, Danny launched himself at her knees and began telling her excitedly about his riding prowess. The car’s driver followed close behind.
‘This is Kieran Farrelly,’ said Bel, introducing the Irishman. ‘He’s been ace, brought me all the way from Dingle. Have you heard from Mum?’
‘She called us this morning,’ Matt said. ‘Said she got back last night. She’s coming over later. I think she wants to check up on Leo.’
‘Isn’t he here?’
‘Not right now.’
Rachael said, ‘You’re looking really well, Bel. The holiday must have done you good.’
‘Yeah, some bits were brill… others, not so. Like your week, I guess. Is that what’s left of the garage?’
Rachael refrained from saying: it was that loopy boy you let in who burned it down, because she didn’t want to sound accusing in front of the stranger, Kieran. ‘Afraid so, bit of a disaster isn’t it?’
‘The problem,’ said Matt. ‘is that we can’t store stuff in it any more. We’re going to have to keep Danny’s bike indoors.’
Bel peered at his hands, covered in grease. ‘What are you doing to it?’
‘I’m trying to get the damn stabilisers off but I think the nuts have rusted.’
‘Have you any WD40?’ said Kieran. ‘The miracle solution?’
Matt looked at Rachael. ‘Have we?’
‘I don’t know. Possibly in the garage?’
‘Worth a try.’
While Matt and Kieran picked their way through the debris, Bel said, ‘Were Dad’s paintings the only valuable things left in there?’
‘Well, Matt got the car out and we were already using the garden furniture, so yes.’
‘Matt downplayed it when he rang,’ said Bel. ‘Like he didn’t tell me how badly Dad had been injured.’
‘He didn’t want to worry you.’
‘Amazingly, Dad seems okay about it.’
‘Have you spoken to him?’
‘He phoned me when we on the hydrofoil. On the open deck at the back. The seagulls were chasing our wake – it’s quite mesmerising, all that white froth – and suddenly Leo rings. It was surreal.’
‘He was massively pissed off at first,’ said Rachael. ‘When he realised what damage he’d done to himself. How crazy he’d been. But he cheered up a bit when the Echo asked for an interview.’
‘He’s done better than that now,’ said Bel. ‘He’s got his dealer on the case, setting up all sorts of PR. He’s asked me to go back to London with him.’
‘And will you?’
Bel’s eyes were following the men shifting tins and cans from the collapsed shelves in the wrecked garage. Puffs of dust and ash rose and settled again. Their shoulders looked as though they were speckled with dandruff. ‘Yeah,’ she said. ‘I might as well. He has room for me and he needs looking after. Whereas I’m, like, fully okay now. I’ll have a better chance of finding work in London and I can go to Birmingham at weekends.’
Rachael felt she must have missed something. ‘What’s in Birmingham?’
‘Oh… Kieran. He lives there. And if I manage to get any web design contracts he can help me with the technical stuff.’
‘Right. I see.’ She wanted to say: Don’t be hasty, Bel; but what was the point? That was precisely Bel’s character. She didn’t weigh things up at length like her brother. Anyway the guy wasn’t one of her usual lame-duck misfits. He looked a promising choice. Competent. Reliable. He was coming towards them armed with a spray can and an adjustable spanner. It barely took him five minutes to detach the stabilisers from the rear bicycle wheel and line them up at the foot of the steps.
‘Well done, mate,’ said Matt.
‘Come on now, Danny boy,’ said Bel. ‘You have to give us a demonstration.’
The street was quiet. It had a sleepy bank holiday torpor. Fair-weather gardeners were planting out marigolds, clipping their hedges or strimming their patches of grass. Traffic was minimal. Only two other cars had passed by since Kieran’s. Even so Rachael was nervous. She wanted to protest that perhaps it was too soon, perhaps he wasn’t quite ready after all, but she was clearly outnumbered.
She clasped her hands tightly in front of her and could only peep sideways through her lashes as Danny set off. Matt jogged alongside him. The bike wobbled at first and she was convinced he would overbalance. She nearly reached out to clutch at Bel, but Bel had moved within the shelter of Kieran’s arm so Rachael was on her own. What would Dan do if a car suddenly backed out of a drive, or a football shot across the road? But as the bike gathered speed his balance grew more assured. He was gripping the handlebars as if he would never let go, but he was managing to ride in a straight line – at least until he turned the corner and disappeared from sight.
‘Hey, Rach,’ said Bel. ‘I bet you’re proud of him. God, I can’t tell you how many times I fell off my bike when I was learning. Down this very street in fact. Imagine!’
A fraught ninety seconds later Dan came back up the road, pedalling fiercely, expressions of triumph and terror jostling on his face.
‘Oh my God,’ said Rachael as he sailed past them. ‘I hope he can stop. Suppose he can’t brake without falling off?’
‘He’ll be fine,’ said Bel. ‘Matt’s keeping pace anyway.’
Father and son disappeared on another circuit of the immediate neighbourhood: Matt red-faced, wiping the sweat from his hairline, Danny becoming more relaxed with each lap completed. Finally he shot into the driveway – Kieran grabbed the handlebars and steadied the frame – and Rachael was able to relax.
She flooded him with extravagant praise, but as she picked up the bike to help him bring it into the house, she thought she glimpsed the boy, Nathan, with his odd lurching gait. Had he been watching and waiting to intercept Danny when no one was around? He’d probably be envious, even though the bike was far too small for him. But the figure was distant still so she told herself she’d made a mistake.