As if someone had hit a switch, the next day is a dark and dank morning, so foggy I can barely see the flats opposite mine.
I send a collective message to my team to come over to my flat for the news. Thea, who is the smartest kid in town and also the most intuitive, has come armed with cakes of all shapes and sizes.
She plonks them down onto my kitchenette counter next to Hope’s bounty, turns the kettle on and hoists herself up on the stool as the boys scatter around on the green velvet pouffes and my one bean bag.
I take a deep breath. ‘First of all, I wanted to thank you guys for coming over at such short notice.’
‘Why didn’t we meet at the beach house?’ Mike wants to know.
‘Is something wrong?’ Rudy asks.
I look at my crew, i.e. my second family. I’ve known them for years and have always taken good care of them, and they of me. I owe them complete honesty.
‘Yes, as a matter of fact, there is,’ I whisper as the kettle whistles, ignored by Thea who is staring at me intently and biting on her Gothic nails, waiting for me to ring the death knell.
‘Oh God, we’re not fired, are we?’ she gasps, and the look on her face kills me.
‘No, sweetie, of course not.’ I huff. ‘Gabe called me. He’s not coming back for a while. He and Vanessa are expecting a baby, so…’
Paul jumps to his feet straight from the bean bag as if catapulted by a set of springs. ‘That little shit! I knew he was going to do something like this! I just knew it!’
Thea slips off her stool and puts her arms around me. ‘Oh, Faith, are you okay?’
The boys are shaking their heads, muttering a few foul ones.
I hug Thea back. ‘I will be. I just wanted to tell you that I don’t know where we stand on this job right now. If we’re still in, I’ll simply step back from the project and you can take the reins.’
An astonished silence follows, but I can clearly hear the Not agains and I knew its. But not one I told you so. I love these people so much I feel like bawling all over again.
‘Forget the company for now,’ Mike says, clenching his fists. ‘When’s he coming back, so I can crown the bugger?’
I force a half-laugh so I won’t cry. ‘Ah, probably after the baby is born, Mike. But no worries. We’ve got lots of clients. We’ll be fine.’
‘Let’s just concentrate on you,’ Thea says, getting up to pour the coffees and opening the box of cakes. ‘I knew this would come in handy today, one way or the other. And all those years of defending him. Jesus, what a tosser.’
She passes the cakes around and Rudy distributes the coffee mugs as we all gather, munching and sipping, each silent in their own maudlin thoughts. It’s more than I can take.
‘I’ll try to find out what’s happening with the house. I promise you.’
‘It’s not us we’re worried about, pet,’ Bill says. ‘It’s you.’
‘I’ll be fine, Bill – but thank you.’
‘I still bloody don’t believe it,’ Paul mutters.
I sigh. ‘Thanks, everyone, for your support. Can we now change the subject?’
‘Wait – what about Henry’s kitchen? And the rest of his work there?’ Rudy asks.
‘I imagine it’s still on. Gabe hasn’t fired anyone, as far as I know. And please – not a word to Henry.’
‘But he’s going to know when you don’t show up,’ Thea insists.
‘I’ll deal with it myself,’ I assure them, wondering how on earth I’m going to do that.
They all eye each other and then turn to me with a silent nod. ‘Only on one condition. You work from home. And you take your cut.’
‘I can’t,’ I huff. ‘I’m out.’
‘Of course you can,’ Thea assures me. ‘You were in the process of choosing the bathroom tiles and white goods.’
I shake my head. ‘I’m sorry, Thea. I need to step away from all this now.’
‘So you’re never coming back?’ she squeaks. This is the first time I see her panicking.
‘Of course I am,’ I assure her. ‘Only on a different job.’
‘Okay. So when are you going to tell Henry?’
I sigh. ‘Tomorrow. I’ll tell him tomorrow.’
‘But what if he asks us before you do?’
‘Just… tell him I’ve got the flu or something.’
Again, they eye each other and nod.
‘Go, now,’ I say. ‘Take the day off. Go and relax, and don’t worry about tomorrow. You continue as if nothing has happened and I’ll get back to you.’
‘But without you…?’ Rudy shakes his head.
‘I’m sure you’ll all do a smashing job, Ru,’ I reassure him.
‘I’d like to do a smashing job all right,’ Paul mutters.
‘Keep this one in check,’ I say in an attempt to make a joke, and he turns to look at me, his eyes full of affection. Affection that I can’t bear to see, right now, because I feel that I don’t deserve any, especially for abandoning them.
I turn on my settee. ‘Go, I’m sleepy. And don’t report back.’
Rudy and Bob look at each other and shrug.
‘Okay, Faith,’ Thea says, kissing me on the cheek just as Hope had.
*
The next morning, while the rest of the world is at work, I’m at home feeling sorry for myself.
If I had once upon a time longed to have a couple of days off to myself, I’m only on day one and already at the end of my tether. I’d work on yet another email to the Wickfords, but the way I’m feeling, I’m afraid I’d actually write just to tell them to sod off, and who do they think they are for being so unapproachable?
To avoid going out of my mind, I get to my feet and blitz the entire flat – all four square feet of it – change Jawsy’s water and feed her. Next I do the laundry, sort out my cupboards and even alphabetise my CDs and books. Next thing you know I’ll be hitting the spice rack, I’m so desperate to have a purpose.
Maybe I could babysit Jowen and Verity? I miss them. And I miss Orson.
I wonder what Henry is up to. He’ll be wondering why I’m not there. Unless Thea really does tell him I’ve the flu. But in that case would he call to see how I’m doing?
Are we even friends? We were certainly colleagues on the same project who shared a few meals. But friends? He might actually even remind me he had been telling me about Gabe all along, and I really don’t need to hear that right now, thank you.
Although, in utter fairness, he really did warn me. Hope had warned me, and even my crew had warned me. Only my coastal girls have always supported me, but now I am starting to think that that was because they had been through pretty much the same misery and only wanted it to work for me as much as I did.
It seems that the entire world knew that this was going to happen. Except for me. Hooray for believing in the good in people. Hooray for believing in true sodding love. Well, that certainly teaches me.
But in all honesty, I think a tiny, minuscule atom of me knew. Perhaps the coward in me wanted to ignore it, gloss over it with a smile and an agenda full of dates and to-do lists, when all the while, deep down, I did have an inkling that something was off. And now I know.
I still haven’t called Henry. I’ve been meaning to, of course, but I can’t bring myself to hear the pity in his voice. Tomorrow. I’ll do it tomorrow. Not that I’m bound to. We’re just ex-colleagues. He doesn’t depend on me for his commission. Let Thea deal with it all. She’s certainly capable of that and much more.
At around five thirty, it’s already pitch-black outside when the doorbell goes. It’s Thea again.
‘Hiya!’ she chimes as she puts down another box from the bakery. At this rate she’s going to turn me into such a blimp I won’t be able to fit through the door. I’ll be stuck here forever and ever, unless a troop of firefighters widen the door for me.
‘Hey,’ I chime. ‘I’m so glad to see you. I’ve missed you. And the boys.’
‘Not Henry?’ she asks.
Did I miss Henry? Probably his blueberry muffins and scones. And the sparring. I shrug. ‘I dunno. I guess I was sort of getting used to him.’
‘Have you not called him, for Christ’s sake? All day he’s been grilling me – is she sick? Has she got a temperature? Has she called a doctor? Have you been to see her? Can I call her? Jesus. Can I at least tell the poor sod he can call you?’
‘What?’
‘Can I tell Henry it’s okay to call you? He’s old-school. He doesn’t want to impose, bless him.’
Again, I shrug as I shift on the settee. ‘I’ll call him later. After I go through all the cakes.’
‘Promise?’
‘I promise. Just don’t tell him about Gabe, okay?’
She smiles kindly. ‘I won’t.’
‘So what’s new? I ask.
‘You mean, at work?’
I bite my lip. ‘I mean, in your life.’
‘Well, Rudy and I have finally started dating…’
‘You’re kidding me!’ I groan. ‘I’ve been waiting for this to happen for years and the first day I’m not around, you decide to go out? I’m so happy for you!’
‘Yeah, well, nothing’s changed, really. I still give him orders and he carries them out.’ She smiles. ‘Only, at the end of the day I get to be his lover…’
‘Awh,’ I gush. ‘Finally.’
‘Muscle men send their love,’ she informs me.
‘Please give them my love back. I’m sorry I haven’t answered any of your messages on our WhatsApp group,’ I apologise. I know that if I start reading them I’m going to get sucked into the project all over again, and I can’t. ‘What else is new? Besides work, obviously.’ I’m dying for a crumb of gossip – anything from the real world.
She looks at me funny, then looks out the window.
‘What? Thea?’
She hesitates. ‘Uhm… it’s about Vanessa.’
‘Oh God, the baby’s okay, isn’t it?’
‘Yeah, yeah, it’s fine, as far as I know. So… I’m assuming you don’t know that they’re back? Gabe’s postponed the tour. She’s just had a baby shower.’
Wow, she’s wasted absolutely no time, has she? A baby shower. If Gabe hadn’t left me six months ago, perhaps we’d have already had a shower for our baby.
‘No, but I imagine that’s the norm.’
Thea snorts. ‘With Vanessa Chatsbury, nothing is the norm. So I guess you know nothing about it?’
I groan inwardly. ‘No, why?’ I can’t help but ask.
‘She had this life-size cake made of herself. With bump.’
‘Wow.’
Thea holds up a hand. ‘I’m not finished. Inside her, let’s say, stomach, there was a life-size, pink chocolate baby. And she had her midwife pull it out.’
I simply stare at her. That’s so disgustingly uber-kitsch, even for Vanessa. And yet she seems to surprise me every day with her outlandish ideas. My own ideas of multi-coloured balloons and butternut icing pale into nothingness in comparison. ‘Well, she is more full of surprises than a piñata.’
Thea eyes me. ‘So, you’re okay, then?’
Okay? I’ll never in a million years be okay. ‘Of course! Listen, I have to go lie down. I think I’m coming down with something for real this time.’
‘Do you need me?’ she offers.
‘I’ll be fine, thanks, Thea.’ I just want to be alone. I also want to stop the world because I need to get off. And eat tons of chocolate, preferably not shaped like a baby.
‘All right, then, I’ll call you tomorrow,’ she says.
‘Thanks for the love – and the cakes,’ I say reaching up as she hugs me and then grabs her bag on her way out.
I snuggle into my settee, trying to get into a comfortable position perfect for wallowing for hours on end, but due to all the lugging, everything hurts. My legs, my arms, my heart. That’s a muscle too, right?
As I’m drifting off to sleep, my mobile rings. It’s bloody Gabe. Again. I don’t know how many times he’s called. But really, what is there left to say?
I glare at the phone and making my decision, tap on the green Answer button for the first time since the news.
‘Stop calling me,’ I snap into it. ‘You’re the last person I want to hear from. Why don’t you understand?’
‘Faith…’ comes Gabe’s broken voice. ‘Please, please don’t hate me…’
‘No, of course not,’ I say. ‘I just loooove you to pieces.’ Well, I got the pieces part right. The ones I’d gladly tear him into.
‘I’m only doing what’s best for the baby. You do understand that, don’t you?’
‘Of course.’
‘And you know, I never wanted to hurt you—’
‘Hurt me again, you mean?’
‘Could you find it in your heart to… still love me? I can tell Vanessa that I’ll help her raise the baby, of course, but that I’m still with you.’
‘I beg your pardon?’
‘This changes nothing between us, Faith. I still want you. I want you to finish the renovations and I—’
‘That’s where you’re wrong, Gabe. This changes everything. Goodbye.’ And I hang up, only to look at the one bottle Hope hadn’t dug up during her stealthy search of my flat.
I know it’s wrong, and that I’m hurting myself. But I need this right now. Tomorrow, I’ll start all over again. Tomorrow I’ll be stronger. But for now, I need to just wallow and feel sorry for myself. This one time.
It’s only one bottle, at the end of the day…
One bottle is a lot of drinks, says that old voice inside me. A voice I hadn’t heard in ages.
But I’ll only have the one.
No—can’t do that, remember? You can’t stop at one. You never do! Remember all the pain and the trouble? Remember how difficult it was to get back on the wagon?
I groan. Yes. But that was a long time ago, when I was weak and young and—
You still are weak!
No, I’m not!
Then you don’t need a drink!
I don’t need it – not really. I just want to… t-take the edge off… And before the voice can reply, I’m twisting the cap off, telling myself that it will be the last time.
Precisely one bottle of whisky later, as I’m dozing on and off, I become aware of a tap-tapping. It’s someone at the door. Who the hell is it, and why aren’t they using the doorbell?
It takes me a few moments to get to my feet. Gosh, why do I feel so weak? Have I not eaten anything? This is not good.
‘Faith, hi,’ a rather dishy bloke says once I’ve pried the door open. ‘I was worried about you. Thea said I could call, but I thought I’d rather see you. What’s up?’
Henry! I hold my head. ‘I’m sorry, I wa’ going to call you…’
He takes a closer look at me. ‘Have you been drinking?’
‘Yesh. But nowhere near enough.’
‘What happened?’
‘Come an’ sit down,’ I urge feebly as I sway to one side but catch myself. I’m not that drunk.
‘Thanks. Why are you sleeping here and not at the beach house?’ he asks innocently, but even so, I stiffen. He’s put two and two together, of course, clever bloke. Not that it’s rocket science, but still.
‘Gabe’s got pershonal problems.’
Henry’s eyebrows knit in confusion. ‘Personal problems? I thought he lived in North Nirvana.’
‘Well, not everything is as it sheems.’
‘Right. Well, he’ll be back soon, if he knows what’s good for him. By the way, I’ve got something for you.’
‘What ish it?’
He grins. ‘Come out into the corridor.’
On unsteady legs, I follow him outside where there is a beautiful white oak cot, with ornate spindles and a carved backing. I run my fingers lightly across the top. And then my heart bursts into a million shards, leaving me breathless.
‘I heard that you and Gabe are planning a nursery, so…’
‘Oh my God,’ I sob.
His face falls. ‘What is it, Faith? Don’t you like it?’
‘Noooo, it’sh absholutely beautiful…’
‘Then why the tears?’ he asks softly, and his kindness is overwhelming.
‘Becaushe… becaushe…’ I wipe my eyes, the tears too many to catch in one swipe. ‘I won’t be needing it anymore. G-Gabe’sh ex-girlfriend ish pregnant.’
Henry’s head snaps back as if he’s been slapped. ‘What?’
‘Yuh.’ I nod, still unable to believe it myself.
‘Oh, God, Faith…’ he groans softly. ‘I’m so sorry…’
I expect him to continue with an I told you so. But instead, he pulls me into his arms.
It’s very warm against his chest, and I can feel the solid thump of his heart as it drowns out the sound of my sobs. This feels like a safe place – something I haven’t had in a long time, and so I let it all out – the anguish, the humiliation, the sorrow – but above all, the loneliness and sense of not belonging that I stupidly thought I had overcome. But it’s actually still quite a burden, even after all these years.
I had been Gabe’s woman, his life partner, his significant other. But now, what was I?
Not even when we were in foster homes had I felt this sense of loss, lack of place and purpose. Every time I try and see the good in people, it turns out that I’m wrong about them. Every time I try to be optimistic and hope for something good to happen, it only seems like it does, but then it all dissolves. Every hope, every prayer, every pining or longing always backfires on me. It’s so difficult to maintain the slightest amount of optimism. Because I know that when I do, there’s some nasty surprise waiting for me in the end. So why even hope anymore?
‘It’s okay to cry, it’s okay…’ he soothes me, caressing the back of my head, a gesture of protection that completely undoes me even more, if possible, as his other arm surrounds me and I am enveloped in strong, gentle male. Solid. Dependable. And it feels like home.
‘Henry…?’
‘Yes, Faith?’
‘I think I might be a little shloshed.’
‘That’s okay. Life owes you one.’
‘Thank you for your kindnesh. I didn’t know you were sho nishe.’
‘Glad to surprise you, then. Come on, let’s go back inside,’ he says as he closes the door on the cot, his arm still around my shoulder.
I allow him to lead me back into the flat where I flop down onto a pouffe.
‘I’m sho shorry… I don’t get it,’ I babble. ‘In front of my team I’m all together and calm and composed, but now – in front of you…’
‘You want to keep your cool around them; you’re their employer, it’s only natural. But you don’t have to do that with me,’ he soothes.
I look at him through blurry eyes. ‘I don’t?’
He smiles and shakes his head. ‘Just let it all out. Break-ups are hard. But you’ll get through it, believe me,’ he says, now crouching before me, his hands taking mine from my lap. ‘If anybody can do this, it’s Faith Hudson.’
‘Thank you, Henry. You are like a warm blanket,’ I babble. ‘And on top of everything elshe, you shmell delicioush. Like, shpring rain and freshly cut grash.’
A soft chuckle rumbles through his chest, and I chuckle, too. Freshly cut grass?
‘Why are you so nishe to me? I’ve been nothing but horrible to you…’
‘Awh, Faith, you with this strong exterior while inside you’re so beaten up, you’re breaking my heart, you know?’ he whispers.
‘I am?’ I ask, pulling away enough to look up into his face, which, I have to say, is quite handsome. I know I’m absolutely sloshed, but how have I never noticed the long, long lashes, and the streaks of honey in his dark, liquid eyes? And how have I never noticed how his dark curls caress what I now see is a strong neck, and broad shoulders?
How have I never actually paid attention to any of him – the twinkle in his eye, or to the way his devilish brows knit in concentration? To the cheeky tongue that darts out whenever he says something he shouldn’t, or to the dimples in his cheeks, and that magnetism that is now screaming at me? On what planet have I been living?
It’s like I’m seeing him for the first time. He is a completely different person. Or, perhaps, I am.
‘I like you,’ I murmur. ‘A lot. Do you like me?’
After a moment’s silence, he whispers back. ‘You know I do, Faith.’
‘I haven’t been very nice to you, have I? I’m truly sorry, Henry.’
‘Yes, well. It was an initial misunderstanding. I’ve put it behind me.’
‘You have? Becaushe I haven’t. I don’t undershtand how I could have been mean to shomeone like you. You’re kind and intelligent and a great joiner. I love your kitchensh. I love everything about you. I love your eyesh and your mouth and your broad shouldersh and your huge handsh and even your tush.’
At that, he chuckles. ‘You’re not so bad yourself, actually.’
I sigh. ‘But I guesh you’re not attracted to me.’
‘Don’t say that, Faith. You know I am.’
‘Awh, really?’
‘Yes, really.’
‘Then kish me,’ I whisper.
He looks at me as if he’s afraid to touch me. As if I were bad luck. He’s probably afraid to catch it from me. I certainly can’t blame him.
‘It’s time for bed,’ he says, scooping me up (finally!) in his arms and heading for my bedroom.
‘Yesh, let’sh go,’ I agree as he gently lays me down on the bed, reaching for my shoes.
We can’t make love with my shoes on, I suddenly realise. Unless they’re sexy stilettos. ‘I’m shorry, I don’t have any shexy shtilettos,’ I apologise.
He snorts. ‘As if you needed them.’
I spread my arms and sigh in anticipation as my shoes come off.
‘Henry…?’ I murmur.
‘Yes, Faith?’
‘I think that thish wash alwaysh meant to be.’
‘Go to sleep, Faith.’
‘Henry?’
‘Yes, Faith?’
‘Will you shtay the night?’
‘Of course. I’ll be here when you wake up.’
‘Henry?’
‘Yes, Faith?’
‘Thank you.’
‘You’re welcome. Sleep now.’
‘Henry?’
‘Shhhh…’
*
The next day I open my eyes to a thousand Black Sabbath songs playing in my head at the same time. Wait, no, there’s no music. It’s only my own bloody swimming head. Why do I feel like total crap?
And then I catch sight of Henry, fast asleep, his long legs outstretched on that ridiculously tiny chair, his arms folded in front of his chest. What the hell is he even doing here?
I stare at him in panic, then look under my coverlet. I’m fully dressed, thank God.
And then I remember. Gabe is gone for good this time, what with a baby on the way. A baby that isn’t mine.
‘Good morning,’ Henry says in a lazy, sleepy voice, getting to his feet and stretching his long, strong body.
‘H-hi…’ I say meekly, wishing I could hide under the bed without looking too silly. But I think I passed silly last night. I have no idea what happened but I’m feeling like absolute shite.
‘You okay?’ he asks, checking me out.
I nod, avoiding his gaze. ‘I’m so sorry, Henry, about falling apart on you last night. I hope I didn’t say anything offensive?’
Henry looks at me. I have a vague memory of doing just that, but I can’t remember exactly, for the life of me.
He smiles. ‘You’re fine, Faith.’
‘I’m sorry, I was completely sloshed. What did I say?’
His face turns slightly red and my hands fly to my face. ‘Oh, my God, I said something horrible, didn’t I? I’m so sorry!’
‘Absolutely not,’ he assures me.
‘Whatever I said, please know that I never meant any of it. Please forget whatever it was. Can you do that? For my sake?’
He studies me, his eyes dark. ‘I’ll try.’
Thank God.
‘What were your plans for today?’ he asks, steadying me as I scrabble to my unsteady feet, floundering for my shoes, which are nowhere in sight.
‘Uhm…’ I sigh, looking around me. ‘I dunno. Feel sorry for myself, I guess.’
‘Not happening. Your sister called your mobile. I wouldn’t have answered it of course, but I didn’t want her to worry about you. She’s on her way over with her kids. Her sitter is unavailable and she has to go to work, so…’
‘What? Now?’ I know Hope is doing it to help me, and I love her for it, but I really don’t want the kids to see me like this. All I want is to be left alone to wallow a little longer. Just one more day. ‘But I’m not fit to… I look like crap. I feel like crap.’
‘You don’t look like crap,’ he says loyally. ‘Actually, uh, you look kind of pretty…’
I stop searching for my shoes and look up at him. He is now facing me, his eyes probing into mine and I can’t bear the intensity of his gaze. I just can’t. I want to dig a hole and crawl into it for the next fortnight at least.
‘Thank you, Henry, but you don’t need to say that.’
‘No, but it’s true. Listen, I was on my way to pick up Orson to go to Heligan Gardens. Would you all like to join us?’
‘Thanks, but maybe some other time. I have a huge headache. I don’t even know how I’m going to manage with Verity and Jowen.’
‘I can help you,’ he offers.
‘I couldn’t ask you to do that.’
‘Of course you can. It’ll be okay, you’ll see.’
I think about it a second. Knowing the kids will be happy with Orson is a no-brainer. Me, I’ll just have to grin and bear the gazillion nails driving into my skull. And the thorns in my heart. ‘All right. Thank you, Henry.’
He smiles. ‘You’re welcome. Now go get ready – they’re due any minute.’
‘Right. I’m just going to have a shower, then. Help yourself to breakfast. There’s loads of food.’
*
As the hot water soaks into me, so does some common sense. What did I say to him last night? Did I make a pass at him? I remember being very loose-lipped. I think I even mentioned his looks. Oh God, I think I did make a pass at him! But he doesn’t mention it. Handsome and a gent. What must he be thinking of me?
As much as I’d love to hide under the jets forever, I have to come out sometime, so I turn off the water, pull the bathrobe around me and towel-dry my hair while hyping myself into a state of confidence. By the time I go back into the living room, I look quite relaxed, even if on the inside I’m one huge cringe.
‘Henry, you were really great last night,’ I say nice and cool, only to come to a halt.
‘Hi, Auntie Fi!’ Verity and Jowen cheer, throwing themselves at me while Hope’s mouth falls open as her eyes dart between me and Henry. And then a huge smile splits her face.
‘Hi, Sis!’ she chimes, suddenly speeding up like in an old movie, her every movement a flash of limbs. ‘Thanks for keeping them, sorry to run, got to go, see you tonight!’ and with a quick kiss to her kids, she’s off like a shot.
‘Hope, wait,’ I call.
‘Bye, Henry!’ she calls over her shoulder.
‘See you, Hope!’ he calls back.
The impression she was under is obvious, and Henry coughs, eyeing me sheepishly, but says nothing. Which is a mouthful in itself. You’d expect him to say something like, Oh, did she get that one wrong, or similar. But he doesn’t contest it.
‘Right, guys! Have we got plans for you!’ Henry says, clapping his hands together. ‘We’re going to pick up my son Orson and then we’re taking you all to a secret garden!’
Verity’s hands fly to her cheeks in amazement. ‘Secret…?’
‘Yes,’ I assure her. ‘With lots of creatures to discover!’
‘Woweee’ Jowen cries, punching the air. ‘I love creatures!’
Henry laughs, ruffling his hair.
‘Just let me get dressed and we’ll be on our way!’ I say and dash for my wardrobe on the way to the bathroom, where I slip on a cream-coloured wool dress. Practical but feminine.
*
Once we’ve picked up Orson from his friend’s house, we make it to Heligan Gardens where the three of them are blown away by the sheer size and beauty of the place.
We spend the morning wandering around, discovering all kinds of species of plants and animals and water fountains and I breathe in deeply, trying to make my head clear of the heavy pall weighing both in my head and in my heart. The kids are ahead of us, flitting just like the beautiful, multi-coloured butterflies. Henry is smiling to himself and to us, and I breathe in deeply, the air fragrant with all the plants and flowers surrounding us. Heligan Gardens is certainly a place to return to again and again. To think that it had been rediscovered by chance after having been forgotten for so long.
By the time we make it to the garden restaurant it is gone past noon, so we sit at a table and order.
‘It’s lovely in here,’ I observe, taking off my cardigan and we pile all of the jumpers in the empty chair at the head of the table.
The kids all order burgers and fries while Henry goes for the steak and grilled vegetables. Personally, I’m intrigued by the cheese curry, which looks delicious. Strangely, I’m absolutely ravenous now, when usually after a drink too many I can’t even look at food.
‘Can we have dessert, too, Auntie Fi?’ Jowen asks as he digs into his burger.
I laugh and ruffle his hair. ‘Let’s see how you do with that first, shall we?’ I compromise.
Orson nods. ‘Me, too, Auntie Fi. I promise to eat up all my food!’
Henry and I exchange glances as the kids happily chomp on their food as if Orson had just said the most natural thing in the world. And it did sound natural. It feels natural. This little boy is part of me, and the thought of not seeing him after the job is done… I swallow, unable to answer him. All I can do is smile.
‘Dad, tell her I can eat a horse when I want to!’ Orson insists.
‘Yeah, me too, Orson!’ Jowen assures him, swiping his hands across the space between us, sending my curry into my lap.
‘Oh…!’ Jowen gasps, scrambling to wipe it off, but it only makes it worse.
‘It’s okay, sweetheart,’ I say as I dip my napkin into my fizzy water which they say is supposed to work miracles with stains. But this one is a huge mess – the size of a small canvas, and I can’t help but laugh at the look on Jowen’s face. ‘It’s nothing.’
Henry looks at me and grins. I’m sensing he is pleasantly surprised by my laid-back attitude. So am I, to be honest. But then, I could forgive the kids anything.
*
After lunch we continue our perusal, but fatigue has settled in so we soon decide to take the children home as Hope is just about finishing her shift anyway.
‘Can we do something again soon?’ Orson asks me.
‘Of course we can, darling,’ I reply. ‘If your dad agrees.’
‘Of course,’ Henry says promptly. ‘Anything you like, guys.’
‘Cool!’ Verity says. ‘Thank you, Henry. Thank you Auntie Fi!’
Hope opens her front door and the kids make a mad dash for her. She bends to hug them as Henry and I watch from the car.
‘Thanks, guys! Do you want to come in for a cuppa?’ she calls out to us.
‘Thanks, Hope, but I’ve got work to do.’ Then I turn to Henry. ‘Sorry, did you want to—?’
‘I’m good, thanks,’ he replies and waves to my family as we wave and take off. Orson is in the back seat waving to Verity and Jowen like he’ll never see them again.
‘You like your new friends, don’t you, Orson?’ Henry asks.
‘Oh, yes, Daddy!’ he confirms. ‘I want to spend all summer with them. Can we?’
Henry slides me a glance and chuckles. ‘We’ll see what we can do about that, son.’
And a sudden warmth floods me, tinged with a touch of nostalgia: plans, children, excursions.
‘Right,’ says Henry, and I look up to see that we’ve arrived.
‘Oh. Thank you both for a wonderful day,’ I manage, reaching in the back to kiss Orson goodbye. It almost hurts to leave him. And Henry, who has been a real gent today. And, uhm, last night.
‘Bye, Auntie Fi!’ Orson chimes as he wraps his little arms around me.
‘Bye, sweetheart,’ I say softly and turn to Henry. ‘Thanks again, Henry, for a great day.’
‘Sure, no problem,’ he assures me. Then: ‘Listen, I’ve got some work ideas I’d like to run past you tomorrow, if you’re up for it? I have a couple of friends who need some work done.’
‘Uhm…’ What’s wrong with me? I have to get back in the saddle as soon as possible if I’m going to eat and pay rent. ‘Yes, of course, thank you. Why don’t you come for breakfast? I’ve eaten all the cakes but I’ve got some excellent coffee beans.’
‘Okay, then. See you tomorrow!’ he calls and slowly turns the 4x4 around as I linger at the door.
*
As I lie down in bed that night, completely exhausted, memories of the day manage to cheer me up. Orson enjoyed himself immensely in Jowen and Verity’s company. My niece and nephew are truly the sweetest kids. Perhaps a mite spoilt, but I understand how it happened. Hope wants to give them everything we never had. And in any case, there’s still time to intervene. Henry also is very good with Orson. He’s patient and creative. And caring.
And then, without any warning, the night before comes back to me in one long kaleidoscope of memories. I remember stretching out my arms, trying to kiss Henry while he is taking off my shoes. I remember him stilling my hands. God only knows what I was doing with them. If it hadn’t been for his restraint, I would have made a total arse out of myself. How glad am I that nothing happened? If anything ever did in the future, I would like to remember every single moment.
*
The next morning I manage to drag myself out of bed. For what, I don’t know exactly. Hope doesn’t need me to babysit today, and I, like the song goes, just don’t know what to do with myself.
It feels tremendously odd, being home and idle on a weekday. Outside, even though it’s pouring with rain, from my window I can see the endless toing and froing of cars in the road and of people dashing off on foot to work at all hours.
I’m so bored I actually grab a stool and begin to people-watch, trying to guess what kind of job they’re in, or where they’re going. And then I wonder if any of these people are slinking off to be with their lover under the pretence of an early-morning shift, and whose heart is going to break today. I guess that Gabe’s influence is hard to erase. Well, I’m going to have to do a lot of work on myself if I’m ever going to get back in the saddle. I can’t let him destroy me a second time. I am thoroughly disappointed in myself, but I am determined to never fall for the bottle again. And this time I really mean it. All I need to do is stay busy and focused on something else.
But even if I decided to do some much-needed cleaning, for instance, I haven’t got it in me. And even that would take less than an hour. Perhaps I could hand-wash my sheets? That should keep me busy for a while.
Also, it feels odd – okay, terrible, actually – to be back to this flat that I hate with a passion. And as much as I love Jawsy, she can’t answer me when I pour my heart out to her. I know because I tried last night and it didn’t work. She kept staring at me with those vacant eyes. Or maybe she is really a he and is totally on Gabe’s side. Traitor.
And then, my eye is caught by a familiar figure in the street – Henry, getting out of his Jeep. He brings his collar up and hunches under the onslaught of the pelting rain, protecting a bag under his shirt and getting drenched as he waits for the traffic light to change.
I fall back and gasp as I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I look like I feel. Not that he’s come to see how I look. Just, I assume, to see how I am feeling. Which is extremely kind of him.
Henry. I can’t receive him looking like I do, so I make a mad dash for the loo where I wash my face, brush my teeth and comb my hair at the same time. I pull on yesterday’s dress still hanging from the bathroom door and slip it over my head just as the doorbell goes and I open it with my heart in my mouth.
‘Hi…’ he says, breathless, droplets of rain clinging to him. His eyelashes are so thick and long he looks like he’s used a tar brush on them. So not fair. We women have to get up at least half an hour earlier than normal just to put on a decent face, and this bloke bats his baby browns at me with all the naturalness in the world. And… he smells delicious. As usual. Like freshly cut grass and rain.
I swallow. ‘Hi.’
‘What a total washdown, eh?’ he greets me, wiping his feet on the mat. ‘Good thing it didn’t rain like this at the gardens yesterday; the kids would’ve been inconsolable!’ He takes a close look at me and his face falls. ‘Oh. You don’t remember our appointment…’
I frown. ‘Sorry, lately I’m not all that focused.’
He relaxes, handing me a bag. ‘We were supposed to discuss business over breakfast. Is something wrong?’ he asks.
Apart from the fact that I’m finding him utterly delicious?
I bite down on my lip and toss my hair nonchalantly as I turn to the dish rack. ‘No, no. Come in. Have a seat. I’ll, uh, get some plates.’
‘Thanks,’ he says.
When I turn around, he’s taking his wet shirt off and my eyes almost pop out of their sockets. But he’s got a T-shirt underneath, thank God.
‘Do you want me to, uhm, put that under the hairdryer for you?’ I ask as he hangs it on the back of my plastic chair. You’d think I’d have at least one nice thing in this dump. ‘I’m sorry, I don’t have a dryer.’
‘Nah, it’ll be fine, thanks.’
I give him a plate and napkin and awkwardly sit down at the tiny bistro table he seems to dwarf with his huge body. God, I can barely look at him this morning.
Gabe in comparison looks tiny. And then I wonder what Henry must have looked like while growing up. Was he already tall and spindly, or did he just automatically turn into such a hunk of a man? How had I never noticed before? I must be lonelier than I thought.
‘What are you shaking your head at?’ he asks. ‘I thought you liked chocolate muffins.’
‘What? Oh! I do, thank you,’ I say, practically tearing it from his hands and jamming half of it down my throat just to stop myself from saying something stupid as I normally do when I’m this nervous. I just hope he hasn’t picked up on it, and most of all, on the why.
‘So, how’s it going?’ he asks as he pulls another muffin from the bag and peels off the paper.
I jam another piece into my mouth just as he is asking me the question and freeze.
I nod emphatically, accompanying my gesture with an audible Hm-hm to say it’s okay.
He laughs. ‘I’m glad you haven’t lost your appetite.’
No, thanks to you feeding me like a baby whale.
I swallow. ‘I, uh, you know – manage to keep it down,’ I say.
He laughs as his eyes twinkle. ‘Good for you, Faith. Listen, if you’re not in the mood for business talk today, I can always get out of your hair and—’
‘I’m fine – really, I am,’ I say hastily. Perhaps too hastily.
‘I’m glad,’ he says as he reaches into the bag and pulls out some scones and two pots.
‘Ah, you were holding out on me!’ I say triumphantly, striking the bistro table with a flat hand and he throws his head back and laughs.
‘I was not,’ he assures me as the corners of his eyes wrinkle in a smile. ‘I was just waiting to see if you could handle the good stuff.’
‘Handle the—? Give me that, I’ll show you what I’m made of.’
I cut the scone open, twist the two pots of cream and jam open and dig my butter knife into the jam pot and slather on a thick layer, followed by a huge dollop of cream. ‘Here, get your laughing gear around that,’ I say, pushing the plate towards him.
‘Oh, I couldn’t,’ he says. ‘Hungry ladies first.’
I shrug and pull the plate back towards me. ‘Don’t say I didn’t offer, though!’
He studies me, sipping his coffee as I chomp down on the scone ‘Yes. I think you’ll be just fine.’
‘Told you.’
‘So… is the beach house project still going ahead?’ he asks.
I shrug. ‘He said he wants it to. But my crew will be on their own.’
He stops, mid-bite. ‘Oh, Faith, no. You should be there to complete it. Don’t let him win. He’ll think you’re still smarting.’ And then his eyes widen. ‘Are you still smarting, then?’
‘Me? For Gabe? I am angry for what he did, and… and… I’m angry that I let him.’
‘Aw, Faith, it’s not your fault. You trusted the bloke…’
I nod. ‘I did. Because he was part of my f-family. But not anymore. I am so over him. I hadn’t realised how much so, but I think I have been going off him for some time. He can’t be relied upon anymore, and I just can’t live like that.’
He grins, as if relieved.
‘From now on, my goal is my company, and my loved ones. Nothing else matters.’
‘I’m so glad to hear you say that, Faith,’ he says.
And he lets the words hang there, in the space between us – that space of unuttered truths. He has a soulfulness that you don’t expect upon seeing his confident demeanour. And yet, when he speaks, it’s like he understands all there is to know about heartache and disappointment. His divorce must have affected him more than he lets on. And inside that cool, strong exterior, is a man who’s been hurt, just like me, if not more. I wish I could do something to soothe it, to take his own pain away and to make him smile.
And I realise that yesterday was no drunken moment. I am well and truly attracted to this man. When did this even happen? Have I been so from the start, even when I was rude to him? I realise that it was just a way to keep him at a distance. But I don’t want to do that anymore. But neither do I want to be too forthcoming after the show I’d put on. Is he not put off in the least by my new priorities? Because it sort of sounded like I had no time to date. Because I don’t. I can’t, not after what Gabe put me through. It would be like walking a tightrope with a blindfold – absolute folly. Not that he’d asked me anyway, right?
Henry turns around to look out the window. ‘It’s stopped raining. Fancy a walk through the puddles?’ he offers, holding out a hand, his eyes shining with the promise of mischief. Who could possibly resist an offer like that?
I rise to my feet, letting him take my hand without even thinking. ‘I’d love a walk.’
‘And perhaps we could stop somewhere for lunch?’
‘It seems every single one of you is determined to turn me into a blimp,’ I protest.
‘A beautiful blimp,’ he says.
Oh wow. Is he really, really flirting with me? ‘Just let me get my bag and shoes,’ I say.
‘Uh, Faith?’
‘Hmm…?’
‘Before we go out, you might want to change your clothes.’
‘What? Why?’ I look down and there, right on the lap area, is the huge orange plate-sized cheese curry stain from the day before. I roll my eyes and when he grins at me with that naughty expression, rather than feeling like a klutz, I instead feel like there’s still hope for me.
*
The next day I drive to the restaurant to meet my coastal girls for lunch and fill them in on the Gabe situation.
‘Oh my God, Faith – I can’t believe he did this to you!’ Nat moans.
‘I knew he couldn’t be trusted!’ Nina seethes. ‘Sorry. I mean…’
‘No, Nina, it’s okay,’ I assure her. ‘I should have known, too. My sister was right – a bloke who can do that once can and will do it again. What was I thinking?’
‘Moreover, what is he thinking?’ Rosie says, pink-faced. ‘I hate it when blokes try to get away with things like that – the cheek!’
Nat shakes her head. ‘I can’t believe it.’
‘Yep.’ I swallow. ‘I should have seen through all these postponed arrival dates and stuff. Christ, he’d even told me to build a nursery…’
Rosie rubs my back. ‘You’ll get over him, sweetie. It’ll take you time, but you will get over him.’
I am over him. But this time it seems to be less about love and more about humiliation. ‘What’s the saying? Fool me once, his fault, but fool me twice? I’m such a muppet. I deserve this.’
‘Oi,’ says Nina, shaking my forearm gently. ‘Don’t you go thinking things like that – it’ll only hurt you unnecessarily.’
Nat nods. ‘Take it from all of us. Together we’ve racked up a total of five husbands, enough kids to open a nursery, and over fifty years of collective heartache. If we tell you that you can get through this, you will.’
‘Of course, a handsome distraction is what it took us,’ Rosie adds. ‘Maybe you should find yourself one, too.’
‘She’s already got one in Henry,’ Nina says.
Henry. Stomping through puddles. Laughing in the rain. And me actually daring to breathe and feel alive once again. It’s too soon to even worry about jinxing it, let alone talking about it. Whatever it may be. Because he has never said or acted in a way that would make me think he’s even remotely interested in me. Which is good, because I am the Bermuda Triangle of Heartbreak. Come anywhere near me and I’ll ruin your life, too. No, he’s better off where he is, single, without me.
‘No,’ I say. ‘Henry and I are just friends.’
Rosie chuckles. ‘Slow-burning romance – that’s the best beginning, you know?’
‘And besides, I’m in no mood to be thinking about a bloke.’ Except for maybe Henry. ‘They’re all heartbreakers.’ Again, except for maybe Henry.
‘There are good men out there, Faith,’ Nat says. ‘You just have to let yourself fall in love again, so why not Henry?’
Why not Henry indeed? Good question. ‘He’s completely unfathomable. One day he’s all prim and proper like Mark Darcy and you’d kill to know what he’s thinking. But other days he’s all easy-going and light-hearted and fun. I can’t decide what he’s really like.’
‘Maybe he is both,’ Nina suggests. ‘Or maybe he’s not willing to show his cards until you show yours.’
Nat leans in, giggling. ‘Show me yours and I’ll show you mine…’
‘Oh, I showed him mine, all right,’ I confessed as the blush heats my cheeks. ‘I think I made a drunken pass at him the other night.’
Nina gasps, pointing at me. ‘There you go. You like him! You have a crush on him.’
‘Me?’ I lie. ‘Of course not. I just said I was drunk.’
There is a sudden silence. They know about my past.
‘Sweetheart—’ Nat begins.
‘It was a one-timer. I promise. I’m done with the booze for good now. I didn’t even enjoy it.’
They glance at each other, and finally at me. They believe me. They believe in me.
‘A slip is allowed to anyone, sweetheart,’ Nat says softly.
‘And so is a dishy bloke,’ Nina chimes in and I feel my ears burning. ‘Just look at you – it’s written all over your face!’
‘Yes!’ Rosie claps her hands. ‘Are you going to ask him out?’
‘Out? We’ve been out. Several times.’
‘Yes, but not on a date.’
‘We’ve been to dinner, lunch, strolls in the park. What more do you want?’
‘How about some romance?’
‘Oh, no, no, no, no,’ I hasten to say. ‘We are complete opposites. And we constantly bicker.’
‘Good start!’ Nina exclaims. ‘But it’s time to bring it up a notch now. You need to have those conversations – you know, confessing your fears and true feelings – before the kisses and stuff.’
I put my glass of sparkling water down. ‘We are not having those conversations.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because… I…’ I huff.
‘Sweetie,’ Nina says. ‘If he’s been out with you all those times, it must mean something to him, too.’
I look up at my friends’ faces. ‘You think?’
They nod in unison.
‘My sister is pushing me into this as well,’ I admit. ‘But I don’t want to jump from one thing to another. I need more time alone—’
‘Faith,’ Nat says. ‘Life is short – stop it with all the silly rules and fall in love again already.’
What – real love? And risk my heart once more? Go through all that again, with the possibility of getting too attached and consequently pushing him away? Isn’t that a bit reckless? And above all, presumptuous? Besides, I’m an emotional train wreck right now. I don’t want to make my mother’s same mistakes.
‘At least you could put Gabe behind you once and for all,’ Rosie insists gently.
Nina raises her glass. ‘To putting Gabe behind you,’ she toasts and we all follow.
‘To putting Gabe behind me,’ I murmur.
*
After lunch, as I’m driving back, I stop at a zebra crossing, and who on earth do you think is crossing the road? You guessed it – Vanessa Chatsbury, stealer of boyfriends. I can only stare at her as a million permutations are going through my mind.
I hadn’t even recognised her, as her black roots are half the length of her hair that is no longer short, but forms a neat bob. Gone is her eccentric make-up and her far-out clothes. If it weren’t for the fact that I know her like the back of my own hand, I wouldn’t have even recognised her.
I sit up in alarm as my mind registers the fact that something is very wrong. In fact, she is not walking, but waddling across the road because she’s absolutely huge. Unless she’s got an army of babies in there, she’s at least seven months pregnant.
It doesn’t take rocket science to realise that she was already waaaay pregnant when Gabe came to England on his flash visit, asking me to start a family with him when he had already and so obviously put a baby in Psycho.
He slept with me knowing that Vanessa was already pregnant.
What is wrong with him, and how dishonest is he? How had I never noticed what a moron he really is?
I watch in silence as she finally makes it to the other side of the road, so shocked that I fail to drive off when the lights turn green again. Only when the cars behind me start honking do I snap out of it.
I manage to keep the wheel steady as I begin to hyperventilate. To see that he had lied to me, that he had come to the house, in the middle of the night, like a thief, and deliberately made love to me, knowing that Vanessa was already pregnant… Had he truly had no respect for me whatsoever, all the years we were together? Had it all be a sham? What kind of monster does that make him? And what kind of idiot does it make me? How could I have believed in someone so blindly, for years on end? How can I ever believe in anyone again, if the love of my life, the man I wanted babies from, could do this to me? I truly am my mother’s daughter.
Men are all the same – no doubt about it. I will never, ever be able to trust a man, no matter how kind and generous he seems.
Even Henry. Yes, he’d been kind and patient from the start. But in truth, what does every man want from a woman, if not to take advantage of her, own her and dominate her, just like Gabe did? Just like my so-called father did. He took all he could from my mum, and made sure he dumped her on the last day of their vacation together. Oh, men know how to take advantage and then some. But no more. I’m not ever going to fall for it again. Not with Henry, not with anyone.
By the time I get home I’m in a right state. I need a drink like I need my next breath. But I’m not giving in, throwing away years and years of sobriety. But I’m shaking so badly I can’t get my key into the lock of my front door. And then my mobile rings, making me drop my bag that empties itself all over the pavement.
It is, as luck would have it, Henry. But I know he’s calling from work, so I have to answer and I let out a frazzled ‘Hello,’ as I stoop to retrieve my day planner, make-up case, sunglasses, purse and all the stuff I’ve got in there.
‘Hi, Faith! It’s Orson!’
‘Orson!’ I gasp, breathless, trying to compose myself. ‘Hello, darling, how are you?’
‘Can I come over? Now?’
I sigh inwardly. Orson is a sweetheart, and I don’t want to ruin his enthusiasm for life by seeing the state I’m in. Tomorrow seems like forever to children, and I just can’t bring myself to say no. It’s important to him, and he sounds so excited.
‘Of course!’ I chime. ‘Can you tell Daddy to give me half an hour?’
‘Yessss!’ he exclaims and I can literally see the little darling pumping his fist in the air. ‘See you in half an hour!’
I drag myself into the flat and look in the mirror by the door. Yikes. I’ve got my misery all over my face. I can’t let the poor kid see me like this, let alone Henry, who will start going all nosy-protective on me again. But how do you erase in half an hour the disappointment of years and years of utter trust and unconditional love? How can you start afresh, if at all? Where do you find the willpower?
But when the doorbell rings, a smile escapes me. I rush over to the door and fling it open. ‘Hey youuu!’ I cheer, bending on one knee to hug Orson while Henry stands quietly in the background.
‘Hi, Faith! I’ve missed you!’ he cries as he throws his little arms around my neck. He smells so good, like soap and innocence.
‘I’ve missed you too, darling!’ I can’t help but confess. Please stay like this forever, Orson. Don’t grow up to be a heartbreaker! I want to cry as I hang on to him longer than necessary, almost as if to stop his innocence from leaving his body. To stop him from turning into a lying cheat one day.
‘Tough morning?’ Henry mouths over Orson’s shoulder.
I blow the air out of my cheeks. ‘I’m all right,’ I mouth back as Orson takes his coat off and puts it on the edge of the settee.
‘Orson, go and see what treats I’ve got on the kitchen table,’ I urge him and he happily skips off. It’s a good thing that cakes are the main food group in my kitchen.
‘So what’s happened?’ Henry whispers. ‘I’m sorry for crowding you, but Orson wouldn’t stop begging me to call you.’
What is sad is that Henry needed a push. What is even sadder is that I can’t even think straight about my own feelings right now.
‘It’s okay. It’s just that I discovered something horrible.’
His eyebrows shoot up and he leans in, putting a hand on my shoulder. ‘What is it?’
I huff. ‘I saw Vanessa in the street. When Gabe and I got back together, he’d forgotten to mention that Vanessa was already pregnant.’
He stops and his eyes flash. ‘Jesus,’ he mutters under his breath.
I shrug. ‘Well, that’s love for you.’
He spears me with his gaze. ‘No, Faith. That’s nowhere near what love should be like.’
I stuff my hands in my pockets, my cheeks catching fire when Orson comes bouncing back in with a doughnut covered in sprinkles.
‘I’m so happy you’re here, Orson!’ I say, putting an arm around him. It’s so natural, how we’ve clicked, Orson and I.
But Henry is still looking at me, unsure. And I remind myself to not fall for his kindness. Nor for his looks. Or his sex appeal. I’m done with men now. For good. In fact, I’m so done that I can’t even look him in the face. We both know that there could have been something there, that something could have happened between us on several occasions. But luckily, it didn’t, because I just can’t do another relationship. I haven’t got the strength to face all the disappointments, the lies. I’m barely holding myself together as it is.
Orson looks up at his father. ‘Now, Daddy?’ he asks.
Henry beams down at him. ‘Now’s fine, son.’
‘Okay! I have something for you, Faith!’
‘Do you? Thank you, Orson!’
‘Here!’ he says, shoving a tiny little wooden box into my hand. It is obviously hand-made, but very well made and smooth, with a tiny latch in front.
‘Oh, that’s so lovely, thank you – did you make it?’
He nods.
‘I love it!’
Orson giggles. ‘You have to open the box, silly!’
‘Oh!’ I laugh. ‘Of course, sorry!’ Inside, there is a tiny wooden home, with carved windows and doors and even a chimney. It is absolutely delightful. The work of a little boy, but the idea of the house was definitely his father’s. I feel my eyes pricking, but smile down at him as I ruffle his hair.
‘It’s so lovely, Orson, thank you,’ I fight to not blubber, because, if I had been trying to hold it together, now I’m in tatters. Orson’s show of kindness and unconditional love has come at a time when I’d needed it the most. And the fact that Henry is also behind this gesture is more than I can take. Some people will go out of their way (like Vanessa and Gabe) to destroy you, and yet others you’ve just met do everything they can to be kind and caring. It’s just too much!
I sniff and give him my most dazzling smile and bend down to him. ‘I will keep this with me always.’
His handsome little face lights up. ‘Really?’
‘Absolutely. And you know why? Because it’s special. Because you gave it to me.’
And with that, Orson launches himself at me, locking his arms around my waist as he buries his head into my stomach and I hold him to me, not caring what Henry thinks. This little boy is an absolute darling and has no idea how much he has given me in sweetness and the purity of unconditional, unadulterated love, if you’ll pardon the pun.
‘All right, all right.’ Henry chuckles. ‘I think she gets it, mate. Let her be now. See you at work?’ Henry asks.
‘Yes, you will,’ I promise him.
*
The next morning my phone rings as I’m still caught between slumber and waking. As my eyelids are still superglued together, I feel for the Answer button.
‘Hello?’ I rasp, forcing myself to wake up and possibly even sound human, if not professional.
‘Babes?’
I sit up, my legs already shaking. ‘What do you want?’
‘Did I wake you?’
‘No…’ I lie.
He chuckles, but I can’t join in. I have no idea why he’s calling. What can he possibly want? He’s already dumped me twice. And thrice is not a charm. Because it’s not happening. I’d sooner become a nun and tuck myself away in a convent.
‘How… are you?’ he asks.
‘What do you want, Gabe?’
‘I, uhm, need to ask you – how far had you got with the beach house?’
Ah. The beach house. Here it comes – not only has he gone and got his ex-girlfriend pregnant, but the project is cancelled too now.
I rub my forehead where a massive headache is already collecting. It’s a wonder I haven’t had a conniption with all these shocks he’s delivered me over the past few months. ‘It’s ongoing.’
‘Excellent,’ he says. ‘So… I’d like you to baby-proof the house while you’re at it. Is that okay?’
‘You’ll have to liaise with Thea, I’m not working on the project anymore,’ I lie, when instead I’d like to scream my head off at him. But he deserves me lying to him. He’d lied to me about how far along Vanessa’s pregnancy was. How much more does he bloody expect me to take?
Nor has he always been the kindest man, due to his cathedral-sized ego combined with his bouts of extreme insecurity.
He would be impossible to talk to when he was in one of his moods, which depended of course on the reviews his performances or albums received. I would have to literally hide or throw out any form of liquor available in the house because he would drink himself into a stupor. Personally, at that time, I was strong enough to not fall into that trap again. And after that it was like I didn’t even exist. He could be downright cruel sometimes, snarling at me and saying things like, ‘What the hell do you know about the music business?’
‘The same as I know about any business, including my own,’ I’d reply in defence. ‘You need to stay focused and not give in to self-pity. You can’t be everyone’s cup of tea.’
And every time, I’d made up excuses for him, tried to help him, told myself he was more of a mess than I was and needed help. Perhaps I’d convinced myself that we were indeed two pieces of driftwood, and that together we were stronger. How wrong I’d been. Because Gabe is a life-sucker.
And now, two break-ups and a baby in, he still manages to get under my skin. Because his request is not only hurtful, it’s offensive. But I have to think about my crew who depend on me for their income.
Look at me – an interior designer with an interior conflict. Ha ha, I’m so funny I could bawl. And actually, I think I may just be about to, so I’d better make this call short.
I huff. ‘I’ll let the crew know.’
‘Why aren’t you working on it?’
‘You must be joking. I want nothing to do with you anymore, Gabe. But yes, the work will be done.’
‘Thank you. I’ve been meaning to tell you this. It’s only right that you should hear it from me.’
‘Gabe – I already know she’s a million months pregnant. And I will never forgive you for coming here and lying to me, promising me a family, just to sleep with me!’
‘No, Faith, not just to sleep with you. I truly believed that if I came back and you forgave me for leaving you, then maybe you could forgive me this other huge mistake. Vanessa means nothing to me. She never has. All I want is you.’
It’s really the end now. It serves me right to think that what we’d had together had been good while it lasted. You’ve shattered my heart, I want to scream, but am afraid of losing it completely. Wrath, yes – weakness, no.
‘Faith? Are you still there?’
‘I’m here,’ I assure him as I use one of the swatches to wipe my trickling face. (Ew.) Whether it’s my tears or my sweat, I’m still not sure. ‘I’ll pass your message on,’ I say.
‘You have great taste, Faith. With your help it’ll fly off the shelf in no time.’
Is it me or has he always been this tactless?
I open my mouth to snap goodbye, if nothing else, as a loud shriek pierces my ears.
‘Gotta go, Vanessa’s calling me,’ he says in a soft voice, almost apologetic.
‘Yep.’
‘Thanks, Babes.’
‘Gabe?’
‘Yeah?’
‘Please don’t call me Babes anymore. In fact, don’t ever call me at all. You have Thea’s number.’ And with that, I hang up, my insides roiling so badly I want to heave.
*
‘The bloody cheek!’ Hope screeches when I tell her. ‘Please tell me you told him to sod off.’
‘I did on a personal level. But my team will continue the work.’
‘Oh, sweetie, why?’
‘Because this will be the job that I’ll finally be able to impress the Wickfords with. Plus, I need to see the house as it was.’
‘Oh, sweetie, I know all the reasons you love the house. But this is your chance to walk away and be free of him – and Mum’s ghost. We’ve already discussed this, remember?’
‘But I chose not to walk away. For business reasons. Because when the house is ready there will be a photoshoot – and that will be good publicity for me.’
‘So… you’re okay then?’
‘Absolutely, Hope. It’s all about work now.’
‘I hope you know what you’re doing, Faith.’
‘Oh, this time I do,’ I assure her. Because now I’m back in charge. Because I’m going to charge him a bloody fortune for the privilege.