Chapter 11
Holly sat at the kitchen table, savouring a moment of silence and sipping peppermint tea. It was amazing how much Holly was prepared to let slide when she felt quite so excitable and distracted herself and the twins had finally worn themselves out after a particularly passionate pillow fight. All she wanted now was Taffy home. The need to share her suspicions was almost overwhelming and she’d had to bite her tongue not to blurt anything out at work all afternoon. The magnitude of her secret knowledge bubbled away inside her and she fidgeted impatiently.
She looked up as Taffy came in, quietly for once, having spotted that all the lights were off upstairs. It had taken him a while to get used to the shadow hour, where the difference between a peaceful evening with Holly and an unruly chaos with the twins might be as simple as slamming the front door just as they were drifting off to sleep. She smiled. ‘Hello, stranger. Don’t jinx it, but I think they’re asleep.’
He dumped his bag on a kitchen chair and wrapped his arms around Holly’s shoulders, his chin resting on her head. ‘God, I’ve missed you. There just hasn’t been a moment, has there?’ He reached forward and leafed through the diary in front of Holly on the kitchen table. ‘Are you still trying to squeeze in a quick elopement, before Elsie hires the London Symphony?’ He pulled up a chair beside her and grinned. ‘I do love that woman, but she doesn’t make things easy, does she?’
Holly didn’t reply, the wedding so much in the periphery of her thoughts as to be almost irrelevant at that moment. She leaned forward and kissed Taffy lightly on the lips, savouring the feel of him and his breath against her cheek as he pulled her into his arms. ‘Taffs,’ she murmured, ‘you know our little treehouse escape?’
‘I still think we should have just stayed there and never come home,’ he replied with a slow, soft smile that meant his thoughts were heading in only one direction.
‘The thing is—’ Holly paused, suddenly, genuinely, with no idea how best to float the idea. ‘Well—’ She slid the diary across the table towards him. ‘I think I might be pregnant.’
‘Are you serious?’ breathed Taffy, his face wreathed in smiles and leaping to his feet in a burst of excitable energy. ‘You little beauty!’ He crouched down beside her and clasped both her hands in his, his eyes flickering over her face to check that they were both on the same song sheet. ‘And are you okay with this?’
Holly nodded, suddenly choked up by his emotional reaction. ‘I haven’t taken the test yet, but I feel—’
‘When you know, you know, right?’ he interrupted.
‘That’s exactly what I said!’ Holly exclaimed.
Taffy, to his credit, didn’t even blink. ‘To Lizzie?’ he clarified, well used to the other Significant Other in his fiancée’s life. ‘I’m surprised she didn’t make you take the test there and then!’
‘Well, we were in the park—’
‘Enough jibber-jabber, woman; go pee on that stick. Don’t leave me in suspenders. I might be about to become a daddy.’
She grinned. ‘You do know I have to cook it for a bit longer, yes?’ she said happily. ‘I believe nine months is traditional.’ She stood up and opened her bag, pulling out a generic stick she’d snaffled from work.
Taffy frowned. ‘Shouldn’t I go and buy some of those fancy ones they advertise on the telly?’
‘Only the best for your baby?’ Holly teased gently. ‘Look, in all honesty, this is fairly black and white – pregnant or not – it’s not really a question of degree, is it?’
He followed her to the downstairs loo, bouncing on the balls of his feet with sheer enthusiasm, and would probably have followed her inside but for the stern look she gave him as she pushed the door closed. Taffy started doing calculations on his fingers. ‘So, if we were at the treehouse five weeks ago . . . You would be due . . .’
‘Stop it,’ echoed Holly’s voice through the wooden door. ‘I can’t pee and do maths at the same time.’
Taffy snorted with laughter. ‘Do you need me to whistle? Apparently it makes horses pee, if you whistle.’
‘Are you calling me a horse?’ Holly protested. ‘Now shut up, I need to concentrate.’ Holly was discovering that it actually took quite a lot of concentration to pee when she didn’t need to, especially on a stick that might have such transformative powers.
There was a gentle thud as Taffy sat down outside, his back against the door. ‘Holly?’ he whispered. ‘Even if you’re not pregnant today, I think that’s something we should work on, don’t you?’ His voice was muffled and the occasional sniff gave him away, ever the softie that he was.
She emerged from the room a few moments later, flustered and excitable. ‘It might still be nothing.’ She wasn’t sure whom she was soothing with that sentiment – it was obvious that both of them were hoping for the same result.
Taffy nodded supportively, but unable to conceal the light that was dancing in his eyes. ‘It might indeed. You’re right. Early days and all that.’ He paused, unable to resist. ‘But then again, you have had that little bronze fertility icon in your office for a bit and Rupert Hallow says that—’ He held up his hand and stopped himself as they both stared at the little white stick.
Holly’s gasp when the little blue cross appeared was still one of absolute surprise. ‘How?’ she managed.
Taffy grinned, his eyes welling up. ‘Well, when a man and a woman love each other very much . . .’ She walloped him on the arm and gave a nervous laugh.
Holly clasped his hands and looked at him, her face a picture of tenderness. ‘We’re going to have a baby, Taffs.’
‘Together, from the very beginning,’ said Taffy. ‘This is the most amazing news I have ever—’ He sniffed. ‘I love you, Holly Graham. You do know that, don’t you?’
She kissed him and allowed herself to be swept up in his embrace, even as he held her a little more tenderly than normal, even as she could feel his heart racing against her chest. ‘I love you too,’ she murmured into his hair as he turned his attention to the side of her neck.
He paused for a moment and pulled away. ‘And you feel okay? Not sick or tired or anything?’ He looked guilty for a moment. ‘Sorry, should probably have asked that sooner.’
Holly shook her head. ‘I’m fine. I mean, I’ve been really queasy but I thought it was the stress at work—’
‘And the Hobnobs,’ Taffy countered. ‘You have been eating an awful lot of Hobnobs.’
Holly shook her head. ‘You rotter. That was to replace the coffee – you know, instant energy.’
Taffy looked worried for a moment. ‘I’ve never met caffeine-free Holly before. Should I be afraid?’ He leaned in and kissed her again, seemingly unable to resist. ‘We’re having a baby, Holls,’ he echoed her words. ‘I can’t believe I get to do this with you.’
Holly grinned. ‘I can’t believe I didn’t notice straight away. We’re doctors! You’d think one of us might have realised.’
Taffy shrugged. ‘I wouldn’t have it any other way. Sitting outside that door just now, all I could think was how perfect this would be—’ He pulled her into his arms and kissed her thoroughly once again, dropping his voice intimately. ‘You know, although we have worked out what caused this, we should probably re-enact things, just to be sure.’ He kissed the sensitive side of Holly’s neck once more and she shivered with delight.
The knock at the door startled both of them and they froze like randy teenagers caught in the act.
Holly clapped her hand over her mouth as a thought occurred to her. ‘Oh God, Elsie! The wedding!’
Taffy stilled. ‘More to the point, who’s going to tell her?’
They stood on the doorstep, Holly thoroughly flustered and Taffy looking sheepish. ‘You forgot I was coming, didn’t you?’ said Elsie, shaking her head in amused disbelief as she thrust The Wedding Folder into Holly’s hands. ‘And I bet you still haven’t made a single decision, have you?’ She looked around the chaos of their kitchen. ‘Or supper, by the looks of it!’
She turned and gave Holly an assessing glance, as though she knew something was up but couldn’t quite put her finger on what it was.
Seeing the kitchen through Elsie’s eyes, Holly felt an uncomfortable tug of embarrassment. ‘I guess we should tidy up the carnage before the cleaner comes.’
Taffy frowned; he was new to the concept of a cleaner, but he was pretty sure it was bonkers to tidy up before they came.
‘I’m not chastising you, darling girl,’ said Elsie, slightly affronted by the very notion. ‘I was merely about to suggest that we adjourn to the pub and let Teddy Kingsley do all the heavy lifting in the kitchen.’
Holly’s gaze flickered automatically upwards to where the twins lay sleeping.
‘Ah,’ said Elsie, pressing her hand to her chest in apology, ‘la vie domestique, of course.’ She fumbled in her fuchsia Mulberry tote, emerging with a crumpled wad of cash. ‘Maybe, Taffy, you’d do the honours and pick up a little something instead?’
‘You don’t need to pay for supper, Elsie,’ Taffy protested. ‘Tonight’s on me. And—’ He reached out and took Holly’s hand before she could lose her nerve. ‘I’ll get some fizz as well. We’re celebrating!’
Elsie clapped her hands together in delight. ‘We have a plan? Oh thank God for that!’
Holly grinned, as always buoyed by Elsie’s infectious enthusiasm for everything. ‘We do. We have a plan. But I have to tell you, Elsie, it doesn’t involve the wedding.’ With Taffy’s arm around her shoulders and one hand settled automatically on her stomach, it didn’t take much for the penny to drop for Elsie even before the words were out of Holly’s mouth. ‘I’m pregnant. We’re having a baby!’
Elsie, to her credit, barely missed a beat. ‘Well, isn’t that just the best news! Of course we must celebrate! You clever, clever girl.’
Taffy cleared his throat and Elsie’s laughter rolled out across the room. ‘And you’re a very clever boy too. A little sip of champagne is probably just what the doctor ordered, no?’
She fluttered around, planting kisses on their cheeks. ‘It must have been a sign, you know, because when the new Tiffany brochure arrived yesterday, there were all these darling little bracelets and christening cups – I do hope you’ll let me be Godmother?’
‘Godmother . . . Grandmother . . . pick your role!’ said Holly, so relieved that her news had been so gleefully received all round, she was feeling a little demob-happy and dizzy.
‘Although, I assume we’ll be looking at a shotgun wedding now?’ Elsie suggested, tilting her head to one side to appraise Holly’s silhouette. ‘If you opt for an empire-line dress you’ve still got all the time in the world.’
Holly looked at Taffy for support; this was probably a conversation they should have had before Elsie arrived. ‘We’re not sure just yet,’ she hedged, unwilling to mar this special evening with logistics. ‘This is breaking news for us too.’
Elsie looked from one to the other as though waiting for the punchline. ‘Are you saying you might not get married?’ she clarified slowly. ‘Not even a shotgun wedding? I’ve already done all the hard work and I was so looking forward to it.’
‘How about we organise a scan to get some proper dates and then we’ll see,’ Holly suggested. ‘But I’d quite like to enjoy it too and if I’m throwing up every five minutes . . .’
‘We could have an evening ceremony,’ Elsie persisted gently.
‘Didn’t somebody mention champagne?’ Holly said, deftly sidestepping the issue. ‘And then we’ll need to talk names. Any gorgeous middle names you don’t mind us stealing, Elsie?’
Taffy gave Holly a wink, impressed at how neatly she’d diffused the situation, albeit temporarily. He surreptitiously gathered together The Wedding Folder, along with the newspapers scattered across the table, to clear some space. ‘Right, I’m off to get supper – any cravings, ladies? Any little desires?’ He held Holly’s gaze for a moment, an unspoken conversation across the room, all their love and excitement channelled into a single look, even as Elsie fished out her address book and started reeling off names of her favourite celebrities for consideration.