Laura hugged her knees in closer and rearranged the blanket, tucking it under her bare toes, the chair rocking slightly on the rickety veranda. They were still pink and throbbing from the stinging cold water, and the easterly morning breeze, scarcely impeded by the confines of the beach hut, kept making her shiver with its unexpected breaths.
She watched the sea take another run-up at the beach, spreading heavily for a few moments before gravity dragged it back like a stern mother. The heavens had opened overnight and now the sky was busier than it had been for weeks, with billowing clouds jostling against one another like sale shoppers as the laughing wind zipped between them.
Arthur was sitting beside her, watching a split purple tennis ball bobbing madly on the surf. He gave a low, desolate whine as it buffeted the sand, but his mistress didn’t hear. She was lost in her own thoughts.
Laura couldn’t take her eyes off the light dancing over the water’s skin, those malted, silty waters that rippled from mink into dazzling caramel with every exuberant dash the sun made from behind the clouds. It was one of those days when the view was more hindrance than help, teasing her in the studio with its capricious moods and whimsical lights, and given that she couldn’t focus on work after last night’s shock realization, she figured it was better to be in the weather than watching it. She wanted to melt like butter in the heat spots; she wanted to pitch herself against the gale-force gusts and be blown through from the inside out. Cleansed. Cleared of this mistake.
Along silhouette moved over the sand, differentiated from the others somehow, and a low growl rumbled through Arthur’s body. The vibrations beneath Laura’s hand caught her attention and her eyes flickered down towards him and then followed his gaze. A man was walking in front of the huts, his back to them as he scanned the beach.
‘Rob?’ she asked, startled, standing up so that the blanket fell to her feet. ‘Are you looking for me?’
The man turned, apparently astonished to find her wearing just an oversized man’s jumper on this freezing-cold November day. ‘Hi!’
He looked odd standing on the beach in his suit and overcoat. His shoes were covered in wet sand, but she could tell he wasn’t the type to roll up his trousers.
‘How did you know I was here?’ It was more of an accusation than a question. How on earth had he tracked her down? Only Fee had been here with her so far.
‘You left your studio open and—’
‘I did what?’ She shook her head. She was all over the place today. How the hell was she going to keep this a secret from Jack if she couldn’t even shut a door behind her?
‘The door was open,’ he said, watching the disbelief on her face. ‘I went in and saw you from the windows, walking down by the water. I dashed down here and knew you couldn’t have gone far.’ He looked at the forlorn structure barely protecting her from the elements. ‘I didn’t know you had one of these.’
You didn’t know you paid for it either, she thought to herself.
‘Have you had it long?’ he asked, running an admiring hand along the timbers.
She shook her head. ‘No. I’ve only just bought it. As a Christmas present for my boyfriend,’ she mumbled. ‘It’s a surprise.’
Rob walked around the hut as though inspecting it for his own purchase. Laura waited for him to reappear. ‘I read somewhere that these are hard to come by,’ he said finally.
‘I caught a lucky break. But it needs a lot of work doing on it, obviously,’ she said, moving around a bit. ‘Most of the shiplap’s rotted, so I’m getting that replaced, and the floor’s going to be ripped up.’ She pushed down with one of her feet as if to show him, catching sight of her bare legs as she did so. ‘Oh God,’ she said, looking up in horror and pulling the jumper further down her thighs.
‘I did wonder if you were, uh . . . cold,’ he murmured.
‘I forgot,’ she said, twisting round to see if her jeans were any drier than when she’d wrung out the hems five minutes earlier. Hmph. Barely. ‘Paddling,’ she muttered, pulling them on anyway. ‘I get done every time.’
‘Well, at least now you have somewhere to shelter afterwards,’ Rob said, politely turning towards the sea.
‘Yes.’
‘Does it have power?’
She shook her head. ‘No. But it will have running water once some new pipes have been put in at the end of this week. The old ones are completely blocked. I’ve got a bottled-gas camping stove for boiling the kettle and things.’ She pulled up her zip and clattered the kettle to indicate it was safe for him to turn round.
‘It’s great. I can’t wait to see what you do to it. I helped my father renovate an old gypsy caravan in our garden when I was young. You know – one of those “father and son” projects that are so fashionable now? It was great. It’s left me with a bit of a fascination for quirky bolt-holes, and a misguided belief in my abilities with power tools.’
Laura chuckled. It was hard to see him as a lumberjack.
‘My uncle bought one of those Silver Bullet caravans – you know, those 1950s American ones?’ she said.
‘I love those!’ Rob remarked, enlivened. ‘They’re so hard to find now.’
‘Well, he did it up. We stripped it back to a shell and rebuilt it. All I did was pass him the hammer or his cup of tea, but I felt like I was helping. I sat out with him all day long, while he’d tell me about the places we’d go to in it – Scotland, Cornwall, France . . .’
‘And did you?’
‘Yup, and every campsite we went to, it was like we were rock stars or something. All the other campers would come and stand around, watching my poor uncle reversing fifty times trying to get it into the pitch.’
‘That’s pressure,’ Rob grinned. ‘Nobody wants an audience for that.’
‘It had these amazing wooden bunk beds, and I used to lie on them, reading a book and looking out of the window as we trundled up the motorways. That was in the days before seat-belt laws, of course.’
‘I remember those! My parents had a Volvo estate, and we used to sleep in sleeping bags in the boot on the way to Cornwall.’
‘Whereabouts in Cornwall did you go to?’
‘Well, not to Rock, although we must have been the only people in Cornwall not there. We used to go to a tiny place called Gunwalloe Church Cove on the Lizard. My father went as a child. No one’s ever heard of it.’
‘I have.’ Laura stared at him in astonishment. ‘That’s where we went. ’
‘You’re kidding?’
Laura shook her head. ‘Every June half-term.’
‘But that’s when we went too.’
Laura grinned. ‘Who knows? Maybe you nicked my bucket. Or ran through my sandcastle.’
‘Hey! Why the bad rap? Maybe I gave you my cornet.’
‘Actually, a boy did give me his cornet once,’ Laura laughed. ‘I was walking back from the little café at the back, and—’
‘A seagull swooped down and took it?’ Rob finished for her.
They stared at each other in amazement. Had their paths crossed before?
Laura looked at him, eyes bright and hair ruffled on the beach, and could so easily imagine what he had looked like that she could almost believe that she was actually remembering. But it could only be a fantasy. Her life didn’t work like that.
‘No, it couldn’t be,’ Laura murmured, pulling herself back in, her smile fading. ‘A nice idea, but it’s the kind of thing that happens all the time down there, isn’t it? I mean, the gulls are such a nuisance.’
He took in the change of her tone and nodded. ‘Yes. The councils are really struggling with it. It’s particularly bad in St Ives, I believe.’
‘Yes . . .’ They fell silent, back to being awkward again. ‘We didn’t have a meeting scheduled, did we?’ she asked after a moment.
‘No. But I have a client nearby and I thought I’d drop in on my way back from seeing him.’
‘Oh. Where’s your client based?’
He coughed. ‘In Norwich.’
‘But that’s fifty miles away. I’d hardly call that nearby.’
Rob cracked a grin. ‘I know. But I was on the M11 when I had an idea. I’ve thought of a way to make your life easier.’
‘You’re going to clone me!’ she deadpanned.
‘Not quite. You can come to Verbier with us.’
‘W-what?’ she stammered. ‘Who’s us?’
‘Everyone on the list, pretty much. Me, Cat, Kitty, Orlando, Sam and her husband, and Alex and his girlfriend.’
Laura stared at him in disbelief. She didn’t even know where to start with that statement. ‘But how can I possibly go if your wife’s going to be there? You said you wanted it to be a surprise.’
‘It’s fine. We’ll tell her you’re Orlando’s plus one. He’s the only person not bringing someone so it’ll even out numbers anyway.’
‘Look, it’s a kind offer, but I really don’t think it’s going to be necessary. I’ve arranged to see Orlando tomorrow, and I’ve just done Kitty. So I’m two down already.’
‘But what about Sam and Alex? They’re both overseas. You’d have to make separate visits to see them in Milan and Frankfurt instead. This way is far more time-efficient.’
‘Couldn’t they come over here?’
‘I tried, but they can’t – or won’t. They were miraculously free when I suggested meeting up at our chalet in Verbier, though.’ He shrugged lightly. ‘Cat and I go there every year, usually for New Year, but I thought we could go for opening weekend this year – they’re predicting record snowfalls; plus, as it’s Orlando’s fortieth, we’re going to have a surprise party for him and stay for a long weekend.’ He shook his head. ‘Although God only knows how that’s going to pan out. Orlando’s been on the brink of a midlife crisis since he turned thirty. But it would give you plenty of time to talk to everybody. There’s no reason why Cat should suspect anything.’
‘And . . . and . . .’ Laura’s head was spinning. ‘And when were you planning this for? I mean, it’s December tomorrow,’ she said, planting a bare foot on the floor. ‘It’s party season. I might have plans. It’s highly likely I do,’ she lied.
‘The weekend after next. The ninth to the twelfth.’ He looked at her. ‘Can you make it?’
She didn’t need to check the diary to know that the pages were still stark white and empty. They always were. It was only ever her, Jack and Fee. ‘I’ll have to check with my boyfriend. I’ll get back to you.’
‘Okay,’ he said, looking at her evenly, so that she saw the copper clouds reflected in his eyes. His face was kind, and she knew he was just being considerate, doing what he could at his end to ensure she met the deadline. It wasn’t unreasonable. In fact, most people would consider a free trip to Verbier as far from unreasonable as it was possible to get. But then she wasn’t most people. She was a riddle that only Jack knew how to answer.
He patted the hut again before folding his collar up and turning into the wind. ‘Your boyfriend’s a lucky man, Laura,’ he said, beginning to walk off. ‘I hope he appreciates it.’
‘Right, so that baby’s bracelet is ready to go out, yes?’ Fee asked, as she brushed the last sandwich crumbs off the sofa.
Laura looked up through her goggles and grunted her assent.
‘It’s very cute,’ Fee purred, spinning the wheels on the tiny pram.
‘Just be careful with it, will you?’ Laura said snappily. ‘It’s very delicate too.’ She carried on soldering.
Fee pulled a face at her grumpy friend as she silently retrieved one of the pale pink leather boxes and set the intricately crafted bracelet delicately inside, along with the handwritten note card Laura had written, detailing the story for each charm and giving a key quote. Then she packed it in a snug cardboard box, finally writing out the recipient’s address in her very best gold wannabe calligraphy.
‘There!’ Fee said, pulling back to her admire her handiwork. ‘Pretty good, even if I do say so myself.’
‘Gee, thanks,’ Laura drawled. ‘Your best handwriting was just the finishing touch needed for my thirty hours’ worth of work!’
‘Sarky,’ Fee muttered, privately dying to draw a daisy in the corner. ‘We can’t all be creative geniuses, you know.’
‘And remember that needs to be out before the end of the day, or it won’t be guaranteed for delivery by tomorrow, and the christening’s on Sunday. To be safe we really need it to get there before the weekend.’
‘Yeah, yeah,’ Fee yawned, watching her friend manipulate a strand of gold into a tiny fret-worked birdcage. ‘What’s that, then?’
Laura looked up through her lashes. ‘It’s for the golden-wedding couple.’
‘What’s it gonna be?’
‘I’m putting an enamelled nightingale inside the cage,’ Laura murmured, concentrating on the task in hand. ‘The motif is “songbird”. The husband said he fell in love with his wife when he overheard her singing.’
‘What, in the bath?’
‘No. He used to have his lunch in the same café every day and he could hear her singing in the back. He started sitting closer and closer to the kitchen door, determined to catch sight of her when she came out. But she never did.’
‘So what happened?’ Fee gasped, sitting bolt upright, hands clasped above her heart.
Laura took in her friend’s melodramatic posture. ‘It’s all right, Fee. We already know there’s a happy ending,’ she said drily. ‘This is for their golden wedding anniversary.’
‘Ugh, just tell me already!’
Laura rolled her eyes. ‘After several months of waiting and listening, he couldn’t bear it any longer and one day he just marched into the kitchens. They were engaged by the end of the day,’ she said, watching a dreamy smile creep across her friend’s face.
‘That is one of the most romantic things I’ve ever heard,’ Fee sighed, rocking back into the sofa, hugging her knees tightly to her chest. ‘Although he’d have had to do a quick U-y if she’d been a moose,’ she added earnestly.
Laura chuckled in spite of herself. ‘Quite.’
‘Hey!’ Fee exclaimed delightedly. ‘That’s the first smile you’ve cracked since you got here all blue-lipped and frosty. Finally the Ice Queen melteth.’
Laura scowled at her. ‘Melteth?’
‘Yeah. You’ve been in a foul mood since you got here. Wassup?’
‘Nothing is up. I’m simply concentrating on my work.’
‘Yeah, right,’ Fee said, disentangling her long limbs and walking over to the kettle. She noisily tapped the instant coffee into the two Emma Bridgewater seconds mugs and slopped milk on to the work surfaces. She set the coffee mug down in front of her friend. ‘Want to talk about it?’
‘There’s nothing to talk about.’
‘Did you and Jack have a fight?’
‘Me and— What? No!’
‘So what is it, then?’
‘I am fine,’ Laura said defiantly. ‘I have just got a shed-load of work to do and I can’t spend my days sitting around gossiping like you do. People are waiting for their commissions. I can’t miss a single deadline. You know that.’
‘All right, all right. I was just asking,’ Fee said, raising one hand in surrender.
The phone rang and she walked over to pick it up.
‘If that’s Jack, tell him I’m with a client,’ Laura said hurriedly, shoving her goggles back down over her eyes and going back to the birdcage.
‘So you have had a fight . . .’ Fee said, peering at her through suspicious eyes as she picked up the handset. ‘Hello? . . . Yes, that’s right . . . No I’m sorry, she’s engaged at the moment. Can I help at all? . . . Right . . . I’m not sure, she’ll have to get back to you herself on that.’ Fee walked over to the calendar of Suffolk beaches hanging on the wall and ran a finger over the dated squares. ‘Uh-huh . . . from the looks of things, she can do that . . . Okay, fine – I’ll tell her . . . Thanks. Bye.’
Laura cocked an eyebrow.
‘Well, it wasn’t Jack, you’ll be pleased to hear.’
‘Who was it?’ Laura asked, defiantly ignoring Fee’s leading comments.
‘A guy called Orlando asking if you’re going to Verbier. And if so, do you want to postpone your interview tomorrow?’
Laura nodded, still without looking up. ‘Fine. I’ll ring him back in a minute.’
‘Ahem! Verbier?’
Laura laid her equipment out patiently on the bench. ‘Don’t get your knickers in a twist. It’s nothing exciting. It’s to do with Cat Blake’s necklace. A bunch of them are going skiing before Christmas, and Rob thought it would make my life easier to go along too and interview everybody out there.’
‘Blimey! Nice work if you can get it.’
‘I’ll be working, Fee. Not skiing,’ Laura muttered.
’What did Jack say?’
‘I haven’t told him yet. Rob only mentioned it this morning.’
They sat in silence for a few minutes, and Laura knew that Fee was staring at her.
‘Stop it, Fee,’ Laura warned.
‘I know there’s something. What’s he done? Too many rose petals scattered in the bath and they clogged up the drains? The scented candles leading up to the bedroom dripped on the carpet?’
Laura dropped her head to the side, exasperated.
‘You know I’m gonna keep on going until you tell me.’
There was a long pause and Laura’s eyes darted around the room as if they were chasing shadows. ‘I think I’m pregnant,’ she murmured finally.
Fee slapped a hand over her mouth, staring over at Laura through enormous blue eyes. Laura blinked hard.
‘But you can’t tell him, Fee!’ Laura demanded, panicking at the sight of Fee’s shock. ‘You have to promise me. Not a word.’
‘But—’
‘Swear it!’ Laura cried, standing up agitatedly.
Fee raised a hand in surrender. ‘Okay, I swear. I swear.’
‘Swear on your life.’
‘I swear on my life. Shit.’
Laura sank back on to her stool, her breath coming fast. Saying the words had been like lifting weights, piling flesh and muscle and sinew on to a bony whisper.
‘Why is it a bad thing?’ Fee asked tentatively.
Laura looked at her in amazement. ‘You know perfectly well why. There is no question of me becoming a mother. How could I bring a life into the world?’
Lead lined the air between them. ‘Laur, you’d be a fantastic mum,’ Fee said quietly.
Laura shot her a dark look. ‘Just don’t.’
‘But it’s true. Jack would be such an incredible father, you know he would. And you wouldn’t be dealing with it alone. Jack and I would support you all the way. Oh please, at least talk to him about it,’ she implored, holding her hands together in prayer.
Laura jumped off her stool and advanced towards her in fury. ‘You swore, Fee!’
‘But this isn’t just about you, Laura. Jack has a right to know. You have to make the decision together.’
‘At the end of the day it’s my body, my decision.’
‘But don’t you see? This could change everything for the two of you.’
‘That’s precisely what I’m worried about, Fee. I don’t want anything to change. I want everything to remain exactly as it is.’
‘Do you?’ Fee asked, and Laura saw sadness in her eyes.
‘What does that mean?’
‘Life keeps moving forwards, Laur, even when you stay standing still. Nothing stays the same for ever.’
Laura narrowed her eyes and planted her hands on her hips. ‘You two have been talking again, haven’t you?’
Fee sighed. ‘Jack’s worried about you, and I’m worried about you and him.’
‘Why? What’s wrong with him?’
‘He’s unhappy, Laura. You must be able to see it?’
‘I see no such thing,’ she said defensively.
‘You won’t go on holiday. You won’t make other friends. You won’t move house. You won’t get married. You won’t get a new car. And now you won’t have a baby?’
‘Jack likes routine as much as I do. It’s why we’re so well matched.’
‘That is not the reason you’re together, and sooner or later you’re going to have to face it.’
‘Says the girl who doesn’t keep a boyfriend for more than ten days.’
But Fee didn’t react. Laura’s eyes filled with tears and Fee stood up and walked over to her, placing a gentle hand on her arm. ‘All I’m saying is that I think your life is not healthy the way it is. You have to let some light in. Some fresh air. If something can’t grow, then it decays.’
‘Well, thanks for the biology lesson, but I don’t even know for sure that I am pregnant yet. At the moment, I’m just late.’ Her voice was defensive and tremulous all at once. Breaking.
‘Then buy a test and at least get some peace of mind. It might be that there’s nothing to tell and you’re just shouting at me for the fun of it.’
Laura relented a little. Her tiny, wise best friend had a point. ‘Well. It is fun,’ she muttered, a glint of mischief in her eyes.
‘I know,’ Fee grinned, hugging her tightly. ‘I know.’