Chapter Four

 

IF I HAD expected Doug to be disappointed in my rash decision to leave or disturbed by the fact I had told the company he would ditch them, I would have been completely wrong. Doug was not only impressed by my sudden insanity, he was beyond delighted. “I’m so glad you finally came to your senses,” and, “that dump was below you,” were two of his encouraging remarks. One, however, shocked me into silence.

He had been dressing for work while I lounged in bed, wondering what I was going to do with my day, when he turned and smiled. “At least now you won’t have to quit when we’re married.”

Not quite one hundred percent awake, I mumbled, “Quit what?”

“That place,” he said, planting a kiss on my lips. “Last thing you want to be doing is working.” He smiled. “There’ll be so many kids to look after you won’t have time.”

Not sure if I’d fallen into some kind of dream, I frowned. “Are we buying an orphanage?”

He laughed. “No, our kids.” He fixed his tie, planted one more kiss on my lips, and strolled out of the room. “That’s a job in itself.”

Over our brunch, I’d told Rebecca what I thought I’d heard. I had convinced myself that she would tell me I was crazy and Doug had not turned into a caveman before my eyes. Instead she offered me a pitying smile.

“Come on, Pip,” she said. “The guy comes from a big family. He was bound to want a rugby team.”

“But he doesn’t have to squeeze them out of him, does he?”

Rebecca chuckled between crunching on her cornflakes. “You telling me you don’t want some fantasy with a zillion sprogs scampering around . . . Pip . . . Pip . . . you okay?”

I cradled my head in my hands. I felt a sudden wish to dig an escape tunnel. Raising children was something that grown-ups did, people with real jobs and . . . well . . . I wasn’t mature enough for that. I mean, maybe in ten years or . . . well . . . just when I was older.

“Pip, you look like you’re going to pass out on me.”

“It’s nothing . . . I . . . It’s nothing.”

Rebecca rubbed my back in soothing circles. “Hey, you’ll find another job. We’ll find something else.”

“Doug was serious. He really meant what he said.”

She handed me some orange juice. “Hey, he’s a guy. They like all their ducks in a row.”

“I can’t be one of those bored housewives.” Days of golf clubs and school runs and the WI. The nausea rolled in my stomach.

“There are worse things.” Rebecca furrowed her eyebrows at me. “It’s not all that bad.”

Sure that she must think I was losing the plot completely, I tried to calm my breathing. Why did the sudden realisation make me want to run? What was so wrong with kids and marriage? Why did I feel like I’d been given a life sentence?

“It’s not like you have to get married tomorrow, Pip.”

Deep breaths. Slow . . . deep . . . focus on the tension leaving the body. “Right, you’re right.”

She leaned in closer. “You don’t have to get married at all if you don’t want to either.”

Slow . . . deep—“What?”

“You don’t have to marry Doug.” She crunched more cereal. “There’s no law.”

“I promised.” That sounded like a pathetic reason to walk down the aisle. “I mean, I love him . . . I want that.” Why did that sound like a question instead of a statement? “He’s great, isn’t he?”

“Right.” Rebecca smiled. “Prince charming and all that.”

“Yes, he’s handsome, rich, sweet . . . he loves me.” Slow . . . deep . . . calm . . . Maybe it was just nerves? All women had nerves, right?

“Doug is the best.” She drained her bowl of the remaining dregs. “You want a cheer or something?” she asked as I stared at her.

“You think he’d let you live with us?”

Rebecca’s eyebrows shot upwards. “Pip, I think even Doug may draw the line at that.” She leaned her head against mine. “Growing up sucks sometimes.”

I thought of losing my space, my time with Rebecca. Pyjama days replaced with day care. Was it too early to start drinking?

My phone buzzed with an incoming call and Rebecca answered while I tried not to bang my head against the table. Why was I panicking now? I’d been engaged to Doug for over two years and I’d coped just fine. Maybe it was resigning my job. Maybe I’d dreamed the whole thing?

“Pip, Doug wants to talk on speaker.”

I wondered why she was announcing it over the sound of my own raspy breathing. Did other women hyperventilate at the thought of marriage? “Okay.”

“Hey, babe . . . you dressed yet?” He chuckled.

I didn’t. I wasn’t dressed.

Was he going to turn into one of those men who ordered me around? Would he become a tyrant?

“I’ll dress when I want to,” I snapped. Stick that. Yeah, I could be a slob if I wanted to be.

“Pip.” Rebecca prodded me in the shoulder.

“What was that?” Doug was in the car. He still didn’t seem to understand that when you were on speaker phone, it was better to have the windows up.

“Nothing.” I shrugged at Rebecca’s frown. “Everything okay?”

Was he calling to check if I had dressed or was he concerned about me? Maybe he thought I’d become one of those neurotic women who used a whistle to snap their kids into line. Oh crap, a rugby team. I couldn’t imagine one baby let alone a whole team—

“Pip,” Rebecca prodded again. “Doug asked if you are free this afternoon.”

“Are we?” I wasn’t about to ditch my friends for him. Oh no, Rebecca needed a place on the grounds. I would need help with the mob of children. How did he expect me to cope with all those—?

“Pip!”

“Right.” I shook the thoughts away. “Don’t think we have anything pressing.”

“Great.” Doug sounded elated. “You want to pack a case, ladies?”

Rebecca grinned. “Somewhere warm?”

“This is a workman’s holiday.” He sounded almost singsong. The kind of tone he always used when he thought he was doing something wonderful. “You’ll need some working clothes but yeah, the summer is looking good at your destination.”

“We’re on it.” Rebecca hung up and dragged me off the chair. “Get in your room and pack.”

“So he just snaps his fingers and you jump?”

Rebecca burst into laughter. She clutched her side, howling until the laughter became silent. Her eyes screwed up, her mouth open.

“It’s not funny.”

She bent over at the waist and leaned against the doorjamb to my room, the tears dripping off the end of her nose.

“It’s not!”

She was gasping for air and I felt myself chuckle in response. I wanted to be angry but the chuckles grew louder. Her eyes squinted up completely and I broke into sobbing laughter with her.

“Pip, don’t do that to me,” she managed, wiping tears from her eyes. “I needed that.”

“You think I’m being crazy, don’t you?”

“I know you’re being crazy. Now, get yourself in there and pack.”

Grumbling, I did as told. I’d never been great at packing. Rebecca rolled everything up into neat piles, everything colour co-ordinated.

After changing, I looked at my wardrobe. What to take? What was a workman’s holiday? Stumped, I pulled everything out and crammed it into the case as it was.

“If I become a robot, I’m blaming you,” I muttered her way as she unpacked my attempt and redid the whole thing. “I can’t raise people without you to help. I can’t even pack my own suitcase.”

“You won’t have to raise them alone. That’s what Doug is for.” She zipped closed the case with practiced ease. “It’s not like I’ll be far away.”

“But I can’t sneak into your room when he snores.”

“Pip,” Rebecca said, squeezing my shoulders. “You’ll have kids’ rooms to go hide in.”

The whole thing sounded terrible. Maybe I could delay the wedding for at least ten or so years. I’d be ready then.

“Good thing he doesn’t know about La femme Française, non?”

Having managed to go a whole two weeks without one thought about my time in France, I ended up hugging myself for support. If Doug found out that I had wandered over lines, he would never believe I hadn’t done the same with Rebecca. The sole reason he was so trusting with her was the fact he believed me to be one hundred percent straight. Which of course was about as true as Rebecca’s fashion sense. I doubted discovering my little secret would help convince him that I was not running around cavorting with every woman in London.

Doug had a weird perception that all lesbians were Casanovas. I doubted they were all like Rebecca, she just had an air about her. It was called eau-de-cocky. She swaggered, women swooned, and I rolled my eyes.

“Pip, I’m just kidding.” Rebecca rubbed my arm. “You’ll love having your own house and the Fletcher brood.”

Not sure why her reassurances weren’t helping, I feigned a smile. “I guess so.”

The Doug tap sounded and I jumped away from her like I’d been shot at.

He walked in, grinning, followed by the chauffeur. “Ready to get some sun, ladies?”

“Let’s go, Saunders!” Rebecca lugged my case into the living room, her glance at me suspicious. I shrugged. I was acting guilty, of what I didn’t know.

The chauffeur took mine and Rebecca’s two cases and hurried out. She always packed the British way, which meant for every single weather event she could think of. Another British strength, the ability to pull out a raincoat like a gunslinger. I had the visual of Rebecca at high noon and chuckled. Doug was watching me as if he expected excitement. Rebecca was staring at me as though she wanted an explanation and I . . . I really didn’t want to go.

“Come on, Pip.” Rebecca strode out of the door, leaving me with no option. I couldn’t just stay there.

Doug flashed a dashing smile my way and I felt myself relax. He was amazing, why was I worrying? He looked toned and handsome in his tailored suit. The tie had been discarded and the buttons popped open, making him look a lot like a film star.

“You ready, babe?”

Taking a deep breath, I smiled. “Why not?” Being Mrs. Doug Fletcher wouldn’t be so bad, right?