Rose walked around the café, humming. It was a week after her and Sam’s evening on the beach, sharing secrets as well as kisses, and she felt as if she couldn’t stop smiling. Every time she looked at him, she felt a silly, sloppy grin come over her face. It was almost embarrassing. It was also wonderful, and a tiny bit frightening, because she’d never felt this way about anyone before, not even Sam himself, back in Tairua. This was entirely new. She was mapping the uncharted territory of her own heart along with Sam’s, and it was exhilarating. Scary. But mostly exhilarating.
Not much had actually happened since that night, nothing earth-shattering anyway, so there was no real reason to feel quite so, well, happy about everything. Life had gone on as normal. Sam spent a lot of time up at the glamping site or running the ropes course, and Rose split her time between tidying up—it was like a compulsion; she couldn’t quite stop—and sketching plans for the café.
Two days ago she’d braved Althea in the den of her office and told her she had some ideas for the café. Over cups of tea, she’d laid out her plans—the squashy sofas, the really decent coffee, local cakes, maybe even some kind of informal lending library since, Poppy had told her, Casterglass had lost its mobile library several months ago.
“I love it,” Althea had exclaimed. “So much better than what we had been able to envision—a few small tables with plastic flowers in vases and a pot of lukewarm tea, Twinings if you’re lucky. So where do you start? And how much will you need?”
Rose had already figured out that Althea was pretty tight-fisted when it came to money, which was something she could appreciate, having operated on the stringiest of shoestring budgets for the last six years. “Not that much,” she’d told her with a tad more confidence than she felt. “The bookshelves we can probably find around somewhere in the castle, and I already contacted the library in Millom and they’re willing to donate a whole bunch of books they don’t have room for. Plus, I imagine there are already a fair number of books on site that we could use. The espresso machine is a bit pricier, of course, but I’ve found one that can be rented for fifteen pounds a week. There’s a lady in Bootle who runs a bakery out of her house—she’d love to supply the cakes, which we could sell at a thirty per cent profit. The only other things we’d need are the sofas…but I imagine we could source those from somewhere in the castle, as well.”
She’d stopped, having run out of breath, and looked nervously at Althea for her response, her fingers pleated together in front of her, her heart beginning to thud.
Althea had sat back in her chair, her arms folded. Rose had had no idea what she was thinking. “Rose,” she’d said after an endless few seconds, “you are a woman after my own heart. This all sounds amazing—and within budget, which is even more amazing. How soon can you get it up and running?”
Rose’s jaw had dropped, because she hadn’t expected quite so much approbation, not to mention a great big green light to keep working. Her mind had raced, and her heart had fluttered with excitement. “Give me three days,” she’d said, and Althea had whistled, impressed.
“Done.”
Fortunately, all the paperwork and red tape with hygiene certificates and such had already been dealt with, so all Rose had to do was order the coffee machine, which was being delivered tomorrow, and enlist Ben and Sam to find some bookshelves and two decent sofas and bring them into the café. Seph had offered to pick up the library books from Millom, and Violet had, in one of her bursts of bonhomie, offered Rose free rein of the attics because apparently there was ‘all kinds’ of china up there.
“Walter’s aunt collected teacups,” Violet had confided in her. “It was something of an obsession. I’m sure they could be put to good use.”
Rose had spent a happy hour sorting through boxes of china tea sets, collecting a motley assortment of teacups that she wanted to use in the café. She liked the idea that instead of the usual bog-standard chunky white porcelain, they’d have something special and quirky. Of course, there was the danger of breakages, but she’d googled some of the teacups and none of them were very rare or valuable. She figured it was worth the risk.
It was all coming together, she thought happily as she wandered around the café. The sofas were in, the bookshelves were full if not quite organised, and a huge sack of premium coffee beans had been delivered that morning.
She was hoping to open officially tomorrow, with offerings of coffees and cakes; hopefully, if things went well and the café made a good profit, they could put in a proper kitchen soon and offer some sandwiches and soups, quiches and jacket potatoes. Who knew, one day they’d do dinners, fancy food, candlelight and steak…
“Hey.” Rose turned to see Sam standing in the doorway. “I thought I’d find you here,” he said as he came into the café. “I feel like you’ve been spending a lot of time in this place.”
“I’m trying to get a feel for it.” She’d also cleaned it from top to bottom, added some eclectic artwork that she’d found in the attics, as well as some old Turkish carpets for the floor. The result was the place was a lot cosier, with a funky, welcoming look.
“I think you’ve done an amazing job,” Sam said, reaching for her.
Rose came into his arms with a silly little smile; this still felt so new. Strange, too, but in a good way. They were a couple. At least, she assumed they were. They hadn’t had one of those ‘serious discussions’, but maybe they didn’t need one this time. He kissed her softly, and her smile deepened.
“You remember your scan is today, in Kendal?”
“Oh, yeah.” She grimaced sheepishly. How could she have forgotten something so important? And yet she had, because she’d been so taken up with the café—and with Sam. A few days ago, they’d told everyone she was having twins, and the delight and excitement had been overwhelming. Rose had wondered if half the Penryns would insist on coming along to the scan, but fortunately it was just Sam. “Do we need to get going now?” she asked.
“You have time to wash your face,” he told her with a smile. “You’ve got dust on your nose.”
“I’ve been cleaning,” she protested laughingly, and she glanced in the antique mirror by the coffee machine, grimacing at her reflection. A little dust on her nose was Sam being nice. She was positively grimy.
“I’m amazed you kissed me, when I look like this,” she said, and Sam’s smile deepened.
“Didn’t even cross my mind not to.”
“I need a quick shower,” she proclaimed. “Three minutes tops.”
“I’ll meet you in the car.”
Rose was still smiling as she hurried inside, took the quickest shower ever, and then dressed in one of her new maternity outfits—this one a sweeping skirt in pale pink and cream, paired with a loose blouse. Poppy had taken her shopping again, this time to hit the charity shops in Broughton-in-Furness. They’d scored quite a few finds.
She quickly plaited her damp hair, put on a slick of lip gloss, and hurried downstairs to where Sam was waiting in the car as promised.
“Seven minutes,” he informed her severely, and then laughed.
“Sorry,” Rose told him meekly, and then grinned. They were both a couple of loons, she thought as he drove out the castle drive. So happy they probably annoyed everyone they came across. She didn’t care. She wanted to feel this happy, to revel in it, like a warm bath or a sunny summer’s day. She was frolicking in the field, she was swimming in the sea, she was staring up at a sky full of stars. She was, she thought, finally living, in a way she never had before…because of Sam. It felt so surprising, and yet so right.
They talked about everything and nothing on the way to Kendal, easy in each other’s company, and then spent half an hour in the ultrasound waiting room while Rose chugged nearly a quart of water, as she’d forgotten she needed a full bladder for the scan.
Ten minutes later she was fidgeting and shifting on her seat, while Sam looked on in amusement.
“You try it,” she hissed, and he stifled a laugh before pulling a sympathetic face. Rose rolled her eyes.
“Rose Lacey?”
Rose lumbered up, Sam hurrying to support her elbow. She hadn’t quite realised until that moment just how huge she was starting to feel. She was only twenty-three weeks along, but she looked at least six months pregnant. And to think she had another seventeen to go, if she made it to full term. She’d already read that most women expecting twins didn’t, which meant these babies might be coming even sooner.
“So, you’re expecting twins?” the technician said with a smile as she looked through her notes and Rose eased herself back on the examining table, feeling more and more like a beached whale.
“Yes, we are.” Sam’s voice rang with pride, making her smile. “Quite a surprise for us, actually.”
“Do twins run in your family?”
Rose exchanged an uncertain glance with Sam. “Not in my family,” she said, while Sam, she noticed, had started to blush.
“Actually, I have cousins who are twins,” he confessed.
Rose couldn’t keep from bursting out, “So it’s your fault!”
They both laughed as the technician looked on, amused. “Right, well let’s see how these two little ones are doing. Everything’s been fine so far?”
“Yes, I had a scan at seventeen weeks, when we found out about the twins, and things looked fine.” Rose glanced at Sam, and he gave her a tender smile. How things had changed in just over a month, she thought. They’d been uncertain allies then, and she’d felt so prickly and suspicious. She’d softened, and so had Sam. They’d changed each other.
A few minutes later, her bump was slathered in cold, clear gel, and the technician started with her poking and prodding while Rose tried not to wince—or wet herself. The blobby forms on the screen began to take shape—yes, there they were, two babies nestled together likes pea in a pod, complete with legs and arms, fingers and toes.
“They’re real,” Sam said wonderingly, and Rose let out another laugh.
“I’ve felt them move enough to know they are.” Sometimes she felt as if she had a nest of snakes writhing inside her.
“Let’s just take some measurements,” the technician said, frowning slightly in concentration, and Sam reached out to hold Rose’s hand. She was smiling as she looked at those shapes on the screen, wondering if they’d be able to find out the sex—boys? Girls? One of each? She didn’t care which, but it would be exciting to know.
The technician had fallen silent, her gaze focused on the screen as she clicked and pressed, measuring various things—Rose couldn’t tell what. Size of the head? Length of the spine? She was still smiling, holding Sam’s hand, feeling excited and thankful and just a little bit scared, but in a good way, when the technician rose from her chair.
“Please excuse me for a moment,” she said, and walked quickly out of the room. Rose’s smile slipped off her face as she glanced at Sam.
“Is that normal?” she asked in a low voice. “For her to just leave like that?”
Sam shrugged, looking troubled. “I don’t know.”
“Nothing’s…wrong, is it?” Rose heard the anxiety creeping into her voice, the fear winding its icy tendrils around her heart. “Nothing can be wrong,” she said, a statement more than a plea, and Sam squeezed her hand.
“I’m sure it’s fine. She would have said if it wasn’t.”
“What is she doing, then?”
“I don’t know. Maybe she needs to consult an obstetrician or something.”
“About what?”
“Rose.” Sam turned to take her face in his hands, his voice gentle yet strong. “I know it’s hard not to, but there’s no point in panicking right now. We don’t know anything, except what we saw on the screen. Two babies kicking away, looking pretty healthy to me. Okay?”
She nodded, grateful for his steady reassurance. “Okay,” she whispered.
He kissed her softly and then eased back just as the technician returned, followed by a doctor in a white lab coat.
“I’m Heather White, an obstetrics consultant here at the hospital,” the woman introduced herself with a quick smile. “Kerry just wanted me to check on some of the measurements she’s taken of your twins.”
“Is everything okay?” The words burst out of Rose, her voice thin and high and trembling.
“That’s what we’re here to find out,” Heather replied cheerfully. “Try not to worry.” She turned to the screen, clicking and pressing just as the technician had, while they talked in low voices and Rose tried not to scream. Didn’t they realise what torture this was, not knowing? She’d been shocked and frightened by the prospect of having twins, it was true, but the prospect of not having them, of something, anything, going wrong, was worse by far.
Sam held her hand again as they waited several endless minutes before the doctor finally turned back to them. “So, everything looks pretty much fine,” she said, and Rose let out a trembling sigh of relief. “Babies are active, growing well, heart and lungs what they should be at this point. But…one of the babies is a little small.”
“Small?” Rose clung to Sam’s hand, her rush of relief replaced by yet more fear. How bad was it, to be small?
“Yes, and let me stress this is perfectly normal with twins.” Heather gave her a reassuring smile. “They very rarely develop at exactly the same size and pace. Often this happens because, with identical twins, they are sharing one placenta and their umbilical cords can implant at different places, which causes unequal sharing of the placenta and therefore different rates of growth.”
Rose simply stared, struggling to make sense of that info dump. Her brain felt as if it had stuck in one gear, and all she could hear was the static buzz of her frightened thoughts.
“So is the smaller twin’s size a cause for concern?” Sam asked levelly, and she was so grateful he wasn’t frozen by fear, the way she was.
“Not necessarily,” Heather replied, which Rose recognised was not the absolutely not she craved. “In most cases, what happens is simply that the smaller twin catches up, or they might remain smaller through birth. He or she might continue to be a bit smaller as they develop and grow, or they might catch up in a few years’ time. In most cases, it’s all absolutely fine and just a case of how people come in all shapes and sizes.”
“But in the other cases?” Sam asked, because it had to be said. Rose’s whole body felt as if it were vibrating with tension.
“In a small number of cases,” the doctor said slowly, “the twin that doesn’t have the same access to the placenta can have their growth restricted in a way that causes problems with development. It’s something we monitor very closely, and while I don’t see a problem now, I think it would be wise to come back in two weeks for another scan, just to make sure both twins are continuing to progress.”
“And if that twin hasn’t progressed?” Sam asked after a moment when they’d both been silent, simply absorbing all that she’d said.
“Then we’d monitor the situation even more closely,” she replied, “possibly with an extended stay in hospital for Mum. If it looks as if the twins might be in danger, we’d consider an early delivery, assuming their chances would be better outside the womb than in it.” She turned to Rose, her expression soft with sympathy. “I know this all sounds really scary, and there is always more risk associated with a twin pregnancy, but there are some positives here. I don’t see any sign of twin-to-twin transfusion syndrome, which would be a potentially dangerous condition. Both babies look active and happy, moving freely, kicking away, and besides measuring just six days smaller, your littlest one appears to be developing normally. So I really don’t think there is any cause to worry right now, but we’ll schedule a scan, just in case, and most likely continue with scans every two weeks, or potentially every week, until you deliver.”
Slowly Rose nodded. “Thank you,” she said after a moment, not quite trusting her voice. Despite the doctor’s reassurances, she still felt dazed and frightened. She’d been so sure everything would be fine, mainly, she knew, because she’d been so happy. As if nothing could pierce the bubble of the joy she’d found with Sam. As if bad things couldn’t happen now, when really she should have known, had always known, that that was exactly when bad things happened. How could she have been so naïve? So stupid?
She wiped the gel from her bump and pulled her shirt down, still feeling as if she were sleepwalking, or walking under water, distant from everything, her mind a blur of fear and worry. Back in the reception area, they scheduled another scan for the beginning of September, and then they were heading outside to the car park, to a day that had grown chilly and grey; summer was almost over. Rose had been staying as Casterglass for five weeks, which felt now as if they’d flown by, and yet what would the next five weeks hold? The whole future, their future? Their babies’?
“We don’t need to worry,” Sam told her as he opened the passenger door. “Not yet, anyway. I know it is scary, Rose, but try to see the positives.”
“Right.” Rose tried to smile but she felt as if her lips weren’t working properly. Nothing was. Where was her carefree insouciance, her laughing certainty that nothing would go wrong? It wasn’t anywhere to be found, because it had never been real, just part of the persona she’d worn like armour. She couldn’t assemble it now, couldn’t even begin to.
“Rose?” Sam said gently, and she realised she was simply standing there, staring into space.
She blinked him into focus, her mind still spinning. “Right.”
“Are you okay?”
“I…I don’t know.”
Wordlessly he pulled her into a quick hug; she breathed in the scent of him—the clean freshness of the outdoors with the spicy tang of his aftershave—before she got in the car, stared straight ahead. Sam climbed into the driver’s seat. They drove in silence, both of them seeming lost in their thoughts until they’d reached Casterglass village, and then Rose felt a sudden wave of dread crash over her. She wasn’t ready to go back to the castle and face everyone there, see their excitement and curiosity morph into worry and concern. Olivia would worry, Althea would boss her around, Seph would scowl, Violet would pull out some ancient anecdote about a distant relative who had had triplets, and one was the size of an apple, and it was all fine. Really, most extraordinary, I wouldn’t worry, my dear, not at all…
She couldn’t face any of it, not yet. “Can we just…pause for a second?” she asked Sam. “Stop somewhere and get our thoughts together before we face your family and all their questions?”
He glanced at her warily. “Where?”
She gestured to the pub across from the village green that they were just driving by. “Here? We could get a coffee or a cold drink. Just…have a moment.”
He hesitated, looking tense, and then with a quick nod he pulled into the car park behind the building.