59

Lisa was in a better mood when they got back to the cottage. Jack hadn’t been missed, apparently, because Arthur had dragged her down to see the bonfire with his dad and they’d stayed talking for a while, Eric telling her about the incredible ice cliffs in the Antarctic – so Lisa explained as they drove back to the cottage.

‘I thought they took the baby thing really well, didn’t you?’ she said, as they sat together on the small sofa in the sitting room. ‘Eve was so kind. And Stella gave me a lovely hug.’

She turned to him, her face looking relieved for the first time since she’d broken the news a week ago now. ‘You’ve got such a nice family, Jack. It’ll be good to have Eve around, someone who knows about being pregnant.’

Jack was barely listening as he remembered the tenderness in Stella’s eyes earlier. But even if Stella returned the love he felt for her, it made no difference now. He was committed to the woman who sat beside him, tied to her for all eternity by the child growing in her womb.

‘All my friends seem to be gay,’ Lisa was saying. ‘I don’t really have any friends with kids … not ones I’m still in touch with anyway.’ She paused. ‘But I suppose you make friends, don’t you, at antenatal classes and stuff?’

Antenatal classes … Jack’s mind did a quick trawl through the process of being a father, taking himself back to when Stella was pregnant. But he shrank from the comparison. He and Stella had been over the moon when they’d found out about both their babies. They had dreamed and planned and hugged each other in anticipation. His heart lurched as he remembered his newborn children’s little faces, peeking out from the folds of the white hospital blanket, and the profound, almost spiritual love he had felt for them both. Could he do this all over again? Could he?

He reached for Lisa’s hand, suddenly desperately sad for her, saddled with a man who would be just going through the motions, at worst, finding a growing acceptance at best. No elation, no joy. He vowed, in that moment, to do better by his wife.

‘When will you tell work?’ he asked.

‘Oh, I’m freelance, they don’t own me. And I can stick make-up on someone’s face right up to the last minute. It’s not like I’m doing anything physically strenuous.’

‘You get pretty tired.’

‘Yeah … Well, I’ll see how it goes. But I’m not mentioning it to anyone yet. And I’d be grateful if you’d stop telling people, Jack.’

‘I’m not telling “people”. I told my family, that’s different. And you agreed we should.’

‘I know. But anything could go wrong. I’m forty-three, I could easily miscarry.’

The fear in her voice was palpable, and Jack put his arm around her shoulder. ‘It’s going to be fine, Lisi. You’re super-healthy. I’m sure you’ll sail through.’

She smiled up at him, gratitude and a certain amount of hope in her gaze. ‘So are you getting used to the idea, Jack? Just a teeny bit?’

Jack didn’t reply, just smiled his best smile and hugged her tight.

Jack took the black plastic rubbish sack out to the bin later on, and stood looking up at the stars. The air was pleasantly cold, with an autumn nip and the scent of wood-smoke on the breeze. He took a long, slow breath. Stella. So much time wasted. He felt he’d never really got a grip on his life after Jonny’s death. And it seemed he still hadn’t, even at his advanced age. He shook himself and turned back towards the house. No point remembering, he thought. Stella’s best out of it.