The next couple of days were unbelievably hard; actually, I think that’s an understatement, the way I’m feeling. When the twins are awake it’s manic, and I can honestly say that I don’t stop, yet when they’re both sleeping I’m almost lost in my own head, walking around aimlessly from room to room. I think I’m subconsciously looking for Gabriel, waiting for the kitchen door to swing open and him to walk towards me with that cheeky smile of his and a steaming mug of tea. I attempt a smile; I don’t think I’m the only one feeling melancholy. Larry’s been moping around since yesterday morning, though as I glance down into those big solemn eyes of his, I can’t help crouching at his side and stroking his head. It’s probably just me overthinking things, and truth be known just down to the fact that he’s not getting the walks he loves.
Since regaining his sight, Gabriel would often disappear for hours at a time, and on many occasions I would join him. There are some amazing walks once you get away from Matlock town. He’d enjoy going out early afternoon and ambling along the Cromford Canal, or if he felt like a change he’d unclip Larry’s lead and walk him through some of Matlock’s vast woodland. The wooden stiles were a bit much for Larry’s dumpy little legs to cope with, so Gabriel used to pick him up and climb over them with his arms stretched underneath Larry’s fat belly. I’m smiling just thinking about it.
Gabriel, Gabriel, Gabriel... There’s no switch to turn him off in my head and I just can’t get him out of my mind. I sink down onto the small settee in the conservatory. I’m not sure if Larry picks up on my mood, but he trots in after me and settles down not far from my feet. It’s ten-fifty; ironically our elevenses time, although I’ve not bothered since I brought the girls home from hospital and Adrianna moved in.
I stare through the window and out into the garden at the small birds in flight, the same ones Gabriel and I used to watch each morning. Trying my best to clear my head, I allow my eyes to wander up and see the trees standing statue-like, so perfectly still, since there’s hardly a breath of air. My gaze lifts to the soft blue sky, which today is dotted with clouds, small white curls sitting motionless. Allowing my imagination to turn them into beautiful pictures, I inhale and hold my breath.
The doorbell rings, muddying my mind, and once again I’m glancing up at a sky filled with stationary clouds. I’m tempted to just sit here with my imagination for company and ignore it, even when it rings a second time. I’m sure whoever it is will get fed up and go away. But then my mind starts ticking over; what if it’s Gabriel? What if he’s decided he can’t live without me, without us, and it’s him on the doorstep? Maybe he’s come home.
Larry falls into an unbalanced sitting position as I jump up off the settee.
“Tash,” Darcy says as she steps into the hall and throws her arms around my neck. “Me and James, we’re over.”
She takes a step back, kicks off her boots and stands quietly, biting her lips.
“I just needed somewhere to go, someone to talk to. I hope you don’t mind?”
I don’t reply, but my straight-faced expression doesn’t need words to spell out my thoughts.
“I just happened to pick up his phone,” she tells me, “mainly because he was moaning how tight the pockets were in his jeans. I was about to slip his mobile into the zipped section of my bag when I noticed a message flash onto the screen. I knew the woman’s name immediately. Well, James tried to wheedle his way out of my suspicions as I questioned him, saying that Lyndsey wouldn’t leave him alone, kept bugging him, bombarding him with calls at work.” She shakes her head. “But then what he failed to mention was that he’d been texting her back. Natasha, I read the messages, I read them out loud.” Darcy looks at me, running her hands through her hair. “You don’t tell an ex you’re missing them.” She rolls her eyes. “And you certainly don’t tell them you still love them. It was only by chance that I saw his messages; if I hadn’t, I’m sure James would have been quite happy carrying on seeing us both.”
I look into her eyes; she was smitten the other night and I can’t help feeling sorry for her, which isn’t easy for me since I’m feeling sorry enough for myself. She tucks short strands of hair behind her ears and follows me into the kitchen, where we stand slumped over the breakfast bar, neither of us saying much.
It’s lunchtime, so a good enough excuse for me to open a bottle of wine. Darcy doesn’t refuse, though almost drops her glass when I fill her in about Gabriel. I stop before throwing the blame, as Gabriel is not James or Josh, and he’s definitely not a cheat.
Half an hour passes and another large glass of wine passes my lips. I don’t feel quite as bad as I did this morning, and Darcy has perked up after making herself a sandwich and chatting about a new job she’s thinking of applying for. It looks like she’ll be stepping back onto a cruise ship heading for the Mediterranean for warmer waters and far warmer climes. But I can’t help wondering if she’s doing it for the money or if she’s just running away.
“I see Danielle’s had the baby.” Darcy grins.
“Yes.” I smile. “She sent me a couple of photos not long after he was born.”
“I bet she did. I think most of Facebook have seen him with the number of pictures Adrianna has uploaded, and it’s not just pictures, she’s posted videos of him on YouTube as well.”
I roll my eyes. “God, just wait until Danielle finds out, she’ll go mad. Adrianna’s really into YouTube and all these blog sites at the moment. When she was pregnant she was blogging all about her and Danielle’s journey through pregnancy. With her going through surrogacy and Danielle going through IVF, she thinks she’s some kind of ambassador on the subject.”
Darcy pours herself another glass of wine and leans her arms on the breakfast bar.
“Come on, Tash, grab your laptop, let’s have a laugh. Have you got the link to her blog site?”
“No. I did ask, but she always found an excuse not to tell me. I searched a couple of times, but never managed to find it.”
We fed the girls and put them back to bed. I had a couple more glasses of wine, whilst Darcy opened a couple more bottles. Both dressed in a pair of pink pyjamas, we sat cross-legged in the lounge, huddled in front of the TV where we watched Bridget Jones’ Diary. Quite apt, I can’t help but think; two jilted women. Darcy was having such a good time she asked if she could stay for a couple more days, saying she could do with the company. She was meant to be going to Wales and stopping at a hotel near the Heights of Abraham with James, but that obviously wouldn’t be happening now.
“Sure, why not,” I tell her. To be honest, it’ll be nice to have her company and a bit of help.
With the twins to look after, I’ve drunk enough wine. Halfway through the film I press pause and make myself a cup of tea. It’s unusual for me not to have my phone with me, either in my pocket or nearby; whether it was the company or because I’d had a couple of drinks I don’t know, but I’d left it in the kitchen. I pick it up and see that I’ve had a message from Josh: I need to speak to you. I’ve had news, a call from Turkey. I can’t be a hundred per cent sure, but I’m led to believe they’ve found one of Asim’s brothers. Please don’t ring me, as I can’t speak right now. Mum and Dad, they’re having a family meal tomorrow evening. If possible, could you and Gabriel make your way to Fordwickston for around 6 p.m.?
News on Logan? Dazed, I shuffle across the kitchen floor and stand with my hand gripping onto the small silver door handle. I think of my young nephew all those miles away from his family in a foreign country. If there is news, whatever that news may be, how can I possibly refuse? Ambling into the lounge, I sink down onto my knees next to Darcy. I honestly can’t remember where I put the remote to restart the film, and as for my cup of tea, I’ve left that going cold on the work surface. Josh’s request has thrown me.
After crawling around the lounge floor I eventually manage to find the TV remote and watch the second half of the film without breathing a word of Josh’s invitation to Darcy. But it seems she knows me better than I thought, as she’s asking me what’s wrong the moment the credits appear on the screen. I decide to fill her in on Josh’s text.
I shake my head. “Going there will be a nightmare.”
There are so many obstacles building up in my mind; taking the girls with me, their bottles, their nappies. I’m scratching my head as I wonder where I’d put them down to sleep.
“While I’m staying here,” Darcy said, “a spot of babysitting is the least I can do.”
I smile and at the same time text Josh back: Okay.
The next morning, I took Darcy through the girls’ four-hourly ritual and wrote her a long to-do list, losing count how many times I read it out. I guess leaving them for the first time I’m bound to feel a little uneasy, though she seemed so capable, so natural around them, I felt I could breathe far easier knowing I was leaving my babies in safe hands.
Around mid-afternoon I received another text from Josh, telling me not to use my car as he’d be in the area and would come to pick us up shortly after 5 o’clock. I text back, but fail to mention that Gabriel won’t be joining us. I’ve texted Gabriel numerous times today and even tried ringing him, but each time his phone was off, so I ended up leaving a voicemail.
I exhale, blowing thoughts of Gabriel from my mind. Leaning with my elbows on the dressing table, I glance into the mirror. My hair is a bit longer now, well on the way to my jawline. I run through it with my straighteners, add a thin layer of black mascara to my lashes and stand grinning at my reflection. I watch myself smiling back and feel quite pleased with how I’ve turned out this afternoon.
At 4:50 p.m., ten minutes before I’m expecting to hear the loud blast of a horn, I blow the girls a kiss, grab my coat and bag from the hall and walk outside, where Josh is waiting in his car.
Getting in to join him, all I can smell is chicken tikka masala. The Golden Dragon. I smile to myself, knowing what’s on the menu this evening. With Hughie’s Indian curry in the bag, I guess Josh will stop off somewhere to pick up a Chinese for the rest of us. I roll my eyes; some things never change.
I’m bursting to as and can’t wait any longer.
“Is there any more news on Logan?”
Taking his eyes off the road for a second, Josh shakes his head.
“Unfortunately, not yet, but I’m expecting a call anytime.”
I hate this waiting game. I’m sitting twizzling my eternity ring round and round my finger in a continual circle. I check the clock on the dash.
Forty minutes later, we pass through the large gates of Fordwickston Hall and proceed in a slightly lower gear up the long shingle driveway. Josh hadn’t said a lot during the journey, just listening while I spoke of Gabriel and our problems, though I have no idea why I confided in him.
“Michelle, is she already here?” I ask.
Josh mutters something under his breath, which I can’t quite make out, his words almost lost as they become part of the song that’s playing on the radio.
He unclips his seat belt as we pull up outside the main entrance. I don’t think he has even had time to pull his keys out of the ignition before Hughie’s striking green eyes descend on me in front of the windscreen. I step out of the car and am almost swallowed up by his arms.
“Oh, Tash, you’ve no idea how good it is to see you.”
When he does eventually loosen his grip, I’m cossetted against Angela’s chest, where her arms hold me tightly. She doesn’t give me time to move my hands, so they end up sandwiched between us, with the side of my mobile phone digging into her hip.
“Let’s see a picture of the girls then.”
I step away and lean my back against the bonnet of the car. As requested, I click onto my photos. Her eyes are almost glued to the screen as I scroll through, small creases appearing at the side of her eyes and the edges of her lips as her smile widens. She looks up into my eyes.
“The girls, they’re beautiful, Tash.”
Angela links her arm through mine as we head towards the main entrance. My eyes follow Hughie’s feet as he walks ahead with Josh. It’s kind of like old times, like coming home, with Hughie holding the handles of two white plastic bags. Our Chinese was always just about warm enough to eat, whereas Hughie’s Indian was always stone cold, and no doubt things will be the same this evening. I can imagine the argument brewing between them as Hughie spoons his dinner onto a plate and puts it in the microwave. What makes me laugh most is that they used to have the same argument every week, and from what I can see, nothing’s changed. After everything Angela said, he’d still re-heat his chicken curry. She said him not listening was down to ignorance, but he would just laugh behind her back, saying it was down to selective hearing.
“Is Michelle already here?” I ask, turning to Angela.
“I think that’s something you should ask Josh,” she says, shrugging her shoulders.
I’m sitting at the dining table with Josh at my side and Angela and Hughie opposite. I watch the interaction between the three of them, and the way I just kind of fit in, how comfortable we all are. It’s only now that I realise how much I’ve missed them, am still missing them. God, how easy would it be, I wonder, to just slip back into my old life, my comfortable life? Ten years as part of this family was such a long time and it was an awful wrench to just turn off my feelings.
My eyes begin to tear up, so, more as a distraction from my thoughts than anything else, I reach into the middle of the table for a battered chicken ball. As I do so, fingers walk across my hand. Josh… I jump, pulling my arm back into my lap. I tilt my head and gaze his way. His eyes are already on me; it’s not an open stare, or one I feel comfortable with, it’s like a sideways glance he doesn’t want me to catch. He blinks and the connection between us is broken. He’s looking across the table, biting into the same battered chicken ball that I was about to take. My heart is almost galloping in my chest. I’m reading far too much into this, into us.
“So, Hughie,” I blurt out, silencing the rest of the table, “how, er…?” I’m thinking what to say. “Retirement, how’re you finding it?”
Josh snorts into his glass. “You want to see the pair of them.” He grins. “Their moves on the dance floor, seriously, Tash, they can do one mean foxtrot.”
It’s as if one minute Josh is talking, involved in our conversation, and the next he falls silent, staring down into his lap. I edge my chair back slightly, which enables me to see that he’s looking at his phone.
“I could have died when Angie suggested ballroom dancing as a hobby.” Hughie frowns. “But then it’s not just about dancing, it keeps us fit, and then there’s the social side; we’ve already made a handful of really good friends.”
“Dancing, you pair?” I suck in my lips to stop myself from laughing.
“Well, it was either that or golf,” Angela pipes up, laying down her knife and fork. “Eighteen holes, and a fairway in any weather? Me?” Her eyes widen. “I don’t think so.”
Josh’s fingers press into my thigh, making me jump. Being taken by surprise seems to be becoming quite a habit tonight.
“I’ll be back in a sec, but I must take this call.”
Josh gets up from the table, leaving his half-eaten Chinese to go cold. He’s gone a while, long enough for Angela to clear the plates, open a bottle of her homemade wine and send Hughie into the next room to get the Scrabble.
I lower my hand into the small black bag and count the letters into my palm. Things definitely haven’t changed. There isn’t one vowel, and the letter Z is amongst those that I pull out. But then Angela always wins anyway, so does it really matter?
Adding onto a word from Hughie, Angela spells out vestibule and smiles up at me.
“Michelle,” I say, glancing over my own letters, “when’s she joining us?”
Angie shakes her head. “I’m afraid she won’t be. I thought Josh might have told you.”
I think my silence answers her question.
“She’s taken Savannah and gone back to live with her mother. I have no idea why,” she continues. “All I do know is they’re not getting on.”
She leans her arm across the Scrabble board, opening the drawstring bag.
“I’d rather you didn’t say anything to Josh. I’m sure if he wants you to know he’ll tell you himself.”
Angela continues to waffle on, whereas Hughie is unusually quiet. From the way he’s rubbing his finger over his top lip and the faraway look in his eyes, he seems to be pondering over his next word. He raises an eyebrow and picks up a letter, though doesn’t get to place it on the board as Josh waltzes back in and sits down at my side. He looks neither amused nor surprised that his sweet and sour chicken has ended up with the rest of the kitchen waste. I nudge Josh and widen my eyes, but he just shakes his head.
“Sorry there’s no news; it was Michelle.”
He doesn’t elaborate, and with Angela’s words I don’t feel inclined to ask. I’m beginning to wonder why I’ve come here tonight; it almost feels like I’m betraying Gabriel.
I look towards Josh, who’s looking at his phone again and seems in no hurry to speak. I peer across the table towards Hughie, who seems to have taken umbrage over a misspelt word. Not wanting to become embroiled in the dispute between husband and wife, I lift my glass and sip at Angela’s homemade wine. I hope no one sees me grimace. Initially it seems quite nice, though it has a bitter aftertaste that I can’t lick off my lips quickly enough.
I find my eyes following the large brass pendulum on the grandfather clock and notice the time. I’m having a nice time, but I really should be getting back to Darcy and the girls. Josh frowns as I nudge him again.
“I need to get going.”
“Okay.” He nods.
The four of us stand in the grand hallway while I slip my arms into my coat.
“Natasha, now don’t you go being a stranger, do you hear me?” Hughie says.
I’m not given the chance to answer, as he takes me by the shoulders, squaring me up in front of him, and then plants two extremely wet kisses on both of my cheeks. The small lump making its way into my throat is a reminder of my feelings for these guys. Some goodbyes are hard, this one in particular.
“It’s been lovely to see you; oh, and I’d like you to have this.” Angela presses something into my hand. “A little something for the girls.” Her arms surround me. “Get them something nice, or open them a bank account.”
“Thank you, both of you.”
I hug her tightly, not really wanting to let go. I keep looking over my shoulder as I walk down the drive, waving until the door closes.
Soft cream solar lights line both sides of the path as we make our way towards the car.
“I like these.” I smile up at Josh. “They’re a lot better than those old lantern-type things you used to have.”
It was kind of hit and miss back then, trying to find where we’d parked, and a miracle if one of us didn’t trip up, usually me, but it didn’t matter and we always laughed. All I seem to be doing tonight is reminiscing.
Josh’s steps slow down.
“You should see the treehouse,” he said.
“That broken-down old shack? I’m surprised it hasn’t been demolished; it was falling apart when we were together.”
“Well not any more; thanks to Dad, it’s been renovated,” he says. “The renovation is for all of us, but then I’ve seen the sparkle in his eyes when we visit with Savannah, so no doubt she will be spending plenty of time here as she grows up, during summer holidays and not forgetting Christmas.” As Josh’s eyes meet mine, he winks. “I think Savvy is the real reason he sought to do a renovation.”
“You can’t go telling me this and not expect me to be the slightest bit curious.”
He half turns, facing me.
“Guess not, but then didn’t you say you’d got to go? And we are in a hurry.”
“It’s not going to take all night, is it?” My terse words hang between us in the cool night air.
Josh lifts his hands and steps back. “Okay, point taken.”
For five minutes we wander between knotted bark and branches in all of their unorthodox poses.
“Stop.”
Shocked by the tone of his voice, I do as he says. His hands slip around my face and cover my eyes.
“Keep walking,” he tells me.
I count forty-nine steps in all and then my breath is taken as he pulls me back against his chest.
“Look, Tash.” His hands slip away.
“Wow!”
I blink as I see multi-coloured fairy lights shimmering around the new wooden structure, nestling very comfortably between the branches of a large oak. A roped handrail spirals around a wooden staircase, which I grasp just a little tighter when it moves beneath my feet as I climb. Reaching the top, I lift my leg and step onto a decked balcony containing a half-moon table and two padded chairs. Josh manoeuvres me through a small doorway into an open-plan living area, and then with the heel of his hand hits a light switch. Four dainty glass wall lights glow, lighting up the wooden-clad dining area. Last time I was here it was just a treehouse, but now there’s also a compact kitchen, a double bed and even a bathroom. I wrap my arms around myself, thinking how cosy a wood-burning stove would be on those cold autumn nights. Hughie had clearly thought of everything.
“Now you’re here,” Josh pipes up, “why not sit down? I’ve got something nice cooling in the fridge.”
My mind’s turning over; it’s as if he knew he’d be bringing me here. I lower myself onto the two-seater sofa and cross my ankles, but I decline the drink. Josh makes his way back onto the balcony and lights a Cuban cigar which, like a magician, he always seems to have hidden on his person. He takes a couple more steps and then leans his elbows back against the carved wooden rail. My eyes follow the trail of smoke that drifts between his lips as he exhales, where it hangs for a moment. He smokes half of his cigar, then leaves the rest to smoulder in a small glass ashtray on the table.
“I haven’t been entirely honest with you,” he says, stepping back inside.
“Oh?” I uncross my ankles and sit up straight.
“It’s Logan, he’s been found,” he says with a growing smile. “But it gets better; he’s been driven to the hotel where your mum and dad are staying.”
I leap off the sofa and throw myself into his arms, unable to stop my tears from falling.
“Adrianna,” I sob against his shirt. “What about Adrianna?”
I lean away slightly and glance up into his eyes.
“Tash, we’ve already spoken. I asked if she’d let me tell you in person.”
His eyes wander down to meet mine, and I watch as they make their way to my mouth. My heart jumps and almost misses a beat, as Josh is looking at me like he used to, almost like time is turning back, the way his eyes played with mine, and that glint they held before his lips used to make their way onto mine. He leans forwards, and I tense in his arms and lean back. That flirtatious stare of his has gone, and he lets me go.
My eyes widen. “Whoa, Josh, what the hell was that?”
His hands disappear into his pockets. “I have no idea what you mean,” he says, turning away.
“I know what I felt and I know what I saw.”
“You’re so fucking ungrateful, Tash. Your nephew’s safe thanks to me.”
“You can’t even look me in the eyes.” I grab his elbow and spin him round to face me. “So, you brought me here…” I pause and glance up. “Why?”
He blows out a breath between his lips. “Maybe because I miss you … I haven’t forgotten how good we were together.” He raises his eyebrows. “Ten years, it was a long time.”
“It was you who played away, you who chose Michelle, and talking of Michelle, where is she? Why isn’t she here?”
“Because we aren’t getting on.”
He walks into the kitchen, opens the fridge and takes out a bottle of champagne.
“This…” He pops the cork and begins pouring into two glasses. “This,” he says again, rolling his eyes, “was supposed to be for us to celebrate.”
“Do you mean celebrate, or get me in the mood?”
“It’s not like that, but with Gabriel away in London and Michelle staying at her mum’s…”
I raise my hand. “Wait, I never mentioned that Gabriel was in London; how do you know?”
He doesn’t embellish, and just stands looking at me in silence.
“Because it was me who told him to go.”
I can feel my face heating up. “Why the hell would you do that?”
He shrugs. “I think I may go and smoke the second half of that cigar after all.”
I watch as he walks back onto the balcony and lights up, blowing his smoke out into the night.
“Don’t think this is something you can walk away from.”
Josh half turns and stares at me.
“I shouldn’t be telling you this, because Gabriel spoke to me in confidence the other evening.” He scratches at his short dark hair. “I really don’t want to go into detail, but summing it up, he said he was extremely unhappy, a mess, couldn’t sort his head out, and maybe he needed a break.”
“And?” I utter.
“And,” he repeats, “he asked my advice, so I gave it. I said if he felt the way he did, he should go away for a while and make up his mind what he really wanted.”
“My, how thoughtful you are.” I roll my eyes and flounce down onto the sofa. “So,” I snap, “you mess up your own relationship and then you go one better by trying to mess up mine?”
“Tash, you’ve got this all wrong, it wasn’t like that.”
“Go on then, tell me, what was it like?”
“Okay, perhaps I did want Gabriel out of the way.” He pauses. “And maybe Michelle, too.”
“How long have you been feeling like this?”
“Since my birthday. The lamb casserole you made…” He smiles. “Us sitting together at the table, it all just felt so right, and Gabriel and Michelle were more like another couple sitting down to join us.”
“So what do you expect, Josh? Do you expect me to run into your arms and carry on like nothing has happened?” I shake my head. “It may be easy for you, but not for me, and you…” I look him up and down. “You’re not for me.” I blow out. “You chose the life you wanted, and, well, I’ve chosen mine. You have a daughter to think of.”
He stubs out his cigar. “What do you mean by that? I think I might have that glass of champagne after all.”
The way this conversation is going, I think I need one as well. He half fills his glass, then mine, hands it to me and sits down on the futon a few feet away.
“Michelle doesn’t trust me.”
I roll my eyes. “I wonder what put that thought into her head.”
A frown settles on his face. “I’m not the same man, Tash, I’ve changed. I walk into a room and she’s checking my laptop, the other day she was standing in the kitchen looking through my phone, and any night that I’m late home from work I just get continual questioning.”
“You can’t exactly say your relationship has been built on trust.” I half smile. “They say what goes around comes around, and for Michelle to think you’re cheating, she must have good reason.”
Josh leans forward, swapping his glass between hands, then lowers his head and blows out.
“Part of the problem,” he mumbles, “well, it’s probably down to me.”
“So, what are you saying then, that you’re seeing somebody else?”
“No, but that’s what she believes. I’m not the cheat here … I think it’s Michelle who’s playing away.”
I’m shocked by the serious expression on his face as he gazes up.
“Michelle, cheating? Are you serious?”
He nods in reply. “It took months of trying.” He takes a sip and then lowers his glass between his feet. “Each month that passed, Michelle was getting more and more worked up that she wasn’t getting pregnant. I laughed it off in the beginning, joking with her, saying we would have to practise more, lots more. But as time passed I did begin to wonder if everything was okay. Without Michelle knowing, I made an appointment with my doctor, who didn’t seem overly concerned. I think more for my peace of mind than anything else he sent a sperm sample off to the lab to be checked.”
Josh gets up off the futon and walks away from me. Reaching the far end of the treehouse, he turns and walks back, not once but several times. I don’t say anything, but he reminds me of a caged bear pacing up and down.
“When I was called back for the results, my doctor sat me down and told me that my sperm count was so low that there was virtually no chance of me ever fathering a child.”
He drags the futon to the side of the sofa and crouches behind it, then tilts his head and looks up under his eyes.
“So Savannah…” He shrugs, clearing his throat. “You tell me, who’s the daddy?”
“Josh, wake up, before you lose everything. Lots of people with a low sperm count manage to father a child, and often more than one. You should be counting your blessings, not throwing them away.”
I pop to the toilet to escape the intensity of our conversation, and letting out a long breath I run the cold tap, wet my fingers and dab cool water over my face. Glancing up at my reflection, for a split second I see Gabriel standing beside me and I smile into his face, but then he’s gone. Wishful thinking. I sigh, turning to dry my hands.
Josh turns as I open the door and leave the bathroom. I grab what’s left of the bottle of champagne and refill my glass. Josh points to his, so I lean over and pour the remainder from the bottle. Back on the sofa, he unloads on me the way he’s been treating Michelle, how quiet he’s been, and wonders why she’s doubting him and their relationship.
It’s not a particularly warm night, but it suddenly feels too warm, almost suffocating. As I push open the door and gaze out, the air, though cold, is soothing, and the tiny fairy lights break up the darkness. It really is beautiful up here. I lean on the railing that surrounds the balcony and breathe in. The only sounds I can hear are the intermittent hoots of owls, almost harmonising with autumn’s freshening breeze.
“How do you fancy some company?” Josh’s voice creeps over my shoulder, followed by his arms and his hands, which he places on the wooden railing either side of me. “Maybe I’ve been unfair to Michelle, and maybe it’s taken you and tonight for me to see that.”
Taking small steps, I swivel round between Josh’s arms and smile.
“It’s about time you saw sense.”
He flicks hair out of my eyes and returns my smile.
“One thing I never asked.” He pauses, and I think it’s my widening eyes that encourage him to continue. “Would you have married me?”
I feel my eyebrows rise. “Well, the way you planned things, it would have been hard for me not to, but if you’re asking did I really want to get married, no.”
Josh shakes his head. “I don’t get you. Why not?”
“It’s just…” I pause. “It’s just all too showy. Everyone’s eyes would be on me, and, I don’t know, I’d feel awkward. I hate making a spectacle of myself.”
His forehead creases and, looking down, he steps to my side, clasping his hands behind his back.
“Bullshit, Tash! What about the way we used to prat around on the dance floor? You didn’t seem to care back then. But that’s just it with you, everything is and always was on your terms. Michelle was never our downfall, not really.”
How dare he lecture me? I could quite easily confront him over Michelle’s accusations that he cheated on me throughout our ten-year relationship, but I can’t bring myself to say it; what’s done is done.
I tilt my head in such a way that he can’t escape my eyes.
“You should sort things with Michelle as soon as possible.”
He nods. “I know what I need to do. Now, what about you and Gabriel? What do you intend on doing?”
I push my hair off my face, but the breeze sends it straight back.
“It’s not that simple with us. I never thought money would be something to come between us. God, was I wrong.”
Feeling light-headed, I sink down onto the decking and push my legs between the dark wooden slats, where I leave them to dangle in mid-air.
“There’s no such thing as can’t, if you love the guy.”
His arm brushes mine as he sinks down beside me.
“Come on, Tash, you’ve known me long enough that you can tell me anything.”
I glance between the railings and out into the night.
“I never mentioned to you that Gabriel worked in an office.”
He shakes his head.
“He took calls and called random people for eight hours a day; basically he hoodwinked people.”
Josh frowns.
“You know, bigging something up, selling shit to people that they don’t really want.”
I smile to myself; I guess that’s the reason for his dislike of cold-callers.
“Anyway,” I continue, “he had orders coming in left, right and centre, and as many going out.” I shake my head. “Well, don’t ask me how, but he managed to mess up a big order and this one was significant, something that he couldn’t just brush under the carpet, worth thousands of pounds, and the mistake he made was due to his failing sight. He wrote a zero in a small box, one he should never have added.”
Josh runs his fingers through his beard. “Okay, I get what you’re saying, but how does that affect you?”
“It affects me because the company are suing him.” I swing my legs a little faster. “We haven’t got that kind of money, we never will have.”
His eyes raise and he’s quiet for a moment. “I’ve got money, why not let me help?”
“I think you and your family have done enough, such as paying off the mortgage on our old house.”
Josh frowns. “But how does that benefit you when you gave the house to your sister and Danielle?”
“That’s not the point. And what about Adrianna’s wedding, and the money you put up to find Logan? Every time there’s a problem I can’t keep running back to you; you’re not an endless bank, Josh, this is real life, my life, and if you were to fork out more money, how would it look to Michelle? And not just her. How do you think it would look to Gabriel?”
He pulls his legs from between the wooden slats and crouches at my side.
“I get it, you don’t want to hurt his pride.” He tilts his head, almost forcing me to look at him. “Tash, he wouldn’t have to know, it would be our secret.”
“Secrets aren’t a good basis for a relationship, and they’re something I don’t want. If me and Gabriel do manage to sort ourselves out, I want to start over with a clean slate.”
He grins at me. “I love your honesty…” His grin turns into an open-mouthed smile. “Actually, there are still so many things I love about you. It may sound kind of cliché, and to be honest I don’t think I realised myself until I met Michelle…” His voice softens. “I let you go, and sometimes you don’t realise what you’ve got until it’s too late. And you,” he says, placing his hand on my shoulder, “were one of those sometimes.”
I smile back, squeeze his hand and then very gently move it away.
“I think you may have said enough, and it’s the champagne talking.”
“I’d have to disagree with you. The drink may have loosened my tongue, but I’ve meant every word. If you ever need a shoulder, or have second thoughts, I’ll be here. All you have to do is to come and find me.”
I get to my feet.
“Josh, I’ve stayed far too long already, please just take me home.”
“Shit,” he says, shaking his head, “I’ve had far too much to drink to be driving anywhere tonight.”
“Fair enough,” I mutter. I agree that after the large bottle of champagne we’ve polished off between us, it wouldn’t be right for him to get behind the wheel.
I search for my phone in my pocket.
“No worries, I’ll ring for a taxi.”
“Have you seen the time?” he asks.
I glance down at the illuminated screen and can’t believe it’s 1:45 a.m.
Josh must see me frown, and adds, “You’d do just as well staying here until the morning and then letting me drive you home.”
“Here, as in the treehouse?” I quiz.
“Well yes, that’s what I was thinking. I don’t want to give Mum and Dad the wrong idea by staying in the stately home. Especially Mum with how things are at the moment between me and Michelle.”
I turn and peer back into the treehouse. My left eyebrow rises as I see only one double bed. I don’t think so.
“The bed’s yours,” Josh says, his words butting into my thoughts. “I’ll take the sofa.”
God, am I that transparent? Or is it that he knows me so well he has the ability to read my mind? I remember Darcy and the girls, and with an overwhelming feeling of guilt I text, telling her that Josh and I have been drinking, but if she’s struggling and really needs me I can ring for a taxi; if not, it’ll probably be early morning when I get back.
She texts back within minutes telling me not to worry, and as for the girls, they’re fine, have both been fed and are now fast asleep.
It was a weird night in so many ways. I felt like I’d drunk a large cocktail of emotion. The excitement of knowing that Logan is safe, but then contradictory feelings and the awkwardness of spending a night so close to my ex. I look across the room and he’s there, sleeping just like he used to, flat on his back with his arms above his head, but I can’t help smiling when I see his legs hanging awkwardly over the sofa’s narrow arm. My mind takes me away from the treehouse, away from Josh, and back to Gabriel. I wonder how he is and where he’s sleeping tonight, and if he’s lying awake thinking of me.
With no feeds and no nappies to change, and a relatively comfortable bed, I can’t sleep. I’m lying awake, staring into the darkness, listening to Josh’s repetitive snores. Even with a pillow tucked around my head and pressed against both ears I can’t block it out, and for the next few hours the noise just doesn’t give up. I close my eyes and turn onto my side. I think if I were to dream tonight, it would be of Adrianna meeting Mum, Dad and Logan off the plane. I can’t imagine what my sister’s been going through these last few weeks, and I think about my girls, picturing their tiny faces, and what I would do if someone were to take them or harm them in any way. I’m lying here holding my breath, conjuring up things in my mind that I can’t even begin to imagine.
A phone rings and I open my eyes, blinking towards Josh. He’s sitting up, and from what I can tell from the conversation he’s having, he’s talking to Michelle. The call doesn’t last more than a couple of minutes. As I lean up on my elbow and peer across the room, I see that he’s leaning down and slipping on his shoes. I’m not sure if he just assumes I’m awake, but without turning he calls to me that Michelle wants to see him. He says I’m to wait for him, as he probably won’t be more than an hour.
At 5:45 a.m. he leaves, and when it gets to 7:15 a.m. I’m standing on the balcony leaning out over the rail, looking for his car, passing the odd glance at my phone as I wait for his call.
I can’t wait a moment longer to ring Adrianna, desperate to talk to her about Logan being safe and on his way home soon. With still no sign of Josh, I scroll through my contacts and press my finger on her name.
“Adrianna?”
“No,” Danielle’s voice comes back.
“How’s you, now you’re out of hospital? And how’s the bab?”
“His body clock’s fucked, but apart from that, yeah, things are great.”
“Nocturnal?” I snigger.
“Yeah, kind of.” Danielle laughs.
“I bet Adrianna’s buzzing having Cairo around the place, even more so knowing Logan’s coming home.”
“To hear her talk you wouldn’t think so. She seems…” Danielle pauses for a second. “She was so detached from my pregnancy, all she really talked about was Logan or your twins.” She falls quiet for a moment. “Natasha, there is something I need to tell you, something I’ve needed to tell you for a while. I attempted to speak to Gabriel, but the only reason I didn’t was that I hoped it would all blow over. But it hasn’t; if anything, things are getting worse.”
Now she really has lost me. I straighten up from my hunched position and lean my back against the glass door.
“You do know that Adrianna didn’t want you there.”
I’m getting more confused by the minute and I frown, though obviously Danielle can’t see my expression.
“Didn’t want me? Didn’t want me where?” I probe.
“At the hospital, when she gave birth; she wanted to do it alone without you or Gabriel, she just wanted it to be me and her. I told her to ring you.” Her voice quietens. “I didn’t tell her once but over and over. She just kept fobbing me off. I said I would go out into the corridor and ring you myself, but she started to cry and said she didn’t want me to leave her.”
Now it’s me who falls quiet, and I look down at my feet. Danielle coughs, clearing her throat.
“When she did finally agree to get in touch with you, she was being wheeled down to theatre. Believe me, Natasha, she knew what she was doing. You would never have made it in time. But she didn’t let things rest there, and when she did finally agree to call she only let the phone ring out once; you’d have been lucky to hear it at all your end, but if you’d checked your phone it would probably have registered as a missed call.”
I can’t digest any of this; surely this isn’t my sister she’s talking about. Thinking about it, there were a couple of times Adrianna mentioned that Danielle was the jealous type. I don’t want to get caught up in their arguments.
“Danielle, I think it’s best I go.” I can hear my voice shaking.
“No, wait.” Her tone stops me hanging up.
“Adrianna didn’t need to breastfeed, she’d brought some formula in her hospital bag.”
My heart’s now thumping in my chest. I can’t believe what I’m hearing.
“Are you okay?” Danielle’s voice is little more than a whisper.
“Shocked,” I tell her, though I really have no idea what to believe.
“I’m sorry, Natasha, but you needed to know. I told Adrianna she needed to take a step back, that the twins, well, they’re yours and Gabriel’s.” I hear the long breath she takes. “We had a big row, and I think the whole ward must have heard us. I ended up walking out the first time I saw her put one of the girls to her breast. I sat in the coffee shop stirring my latte. I stirred it for so long that when I came to drink it, it was cold, and that’s when I phoned you. Anyway,” she huffs, “that’s enough about my coffee. When I went back to the ward, both babies were asleep. I pulled the chair up close to her bed and held Adrianna’s hand. I told her I was going to speak to you about sorting out the parenting order and as soon as possible. She told me to back off, said it didn’t need sorting till the girls were six months old.”
I can hear every word she’s saying, though with Gabriel walking out the way he did it’s all too much and hardly any of it is registering inside my head.
“Adrianna’s right,” I tell her, “there really isn’t any rush for us to sort out the parenting order.”
“Wake up, Tash,” are Danielle’s sobering words. “Can’t you see? Six weeks, six months, it doesn’t matter how long, she doesn’t want to sign any papers.”
“What are you talking about? The girls, they’re biologically mine.”
“Biologically yes,” she mutters, “but in the eyes of the law, surrogates have rights. Until all the legalities are sorted, the twins are technically Adrianna’s.”
“I don’t believe you! I can’t believe my sister would act like this. It was so good of her to come back home with us and help like she did.”
“You just can’t see it, can you? She had everything planned; you were playing into her hands when you invited her back...” She continues to talk, though her voice loses its clarity and instead of words all I hear are random echoes.
“Danielle, Danielle…?”
Shit, my signal. I’ve lost her, but I’m not going to call her back. It’s not nice of me to think this way, but I don’t believe a word she’s said. I can only put it down to her hormones, which probably haven’t settled yet after giving birth to Cairo.
I allow our conversation to slip to the back of my mind and look down at my watch to check the time. Taking a few steps, I glance down over the balcony, but there’s still no sign of Josh. Surely he would have let me know if he was going to be late, or worse still not coming back at all. Well, Josh or no Josh, I must get back to my girls; the few hours we’ve been apart seem like ages now and I just want to go home. I can’t get a signal at the moment, so there’s no way I can call for a taxi. Clutching my bag and laying my coat over my arm, I make my way down the spiral stairs and head through the gardens towards the main house. I reach the car park, where the signal is much stronger.
“Tash.”
My thoughts of calling a taxi are interrupted by a voice calling my name. I turn slightly. I’d walked past without seeing either Angela or Hughie sitting in their car.
Hughie winds down his window, and I can’t miss the grin he’s wearing.
“I wasn’t expecting to see you here this morning.”
Angela’s face appears behind Hughie’s head, though lacks any kind of smile. “Nor was I.”
I swallow and look down.
“Josh popped out and I was expecting him back a while ago; he said he was going to drive me home. I’m about to ring for a taxi,” I blurt out without taking a breath.
Hughie opens his door and steps out.
“Well, we’re off to Derby.” He slips his arm around my shoulder and pats my back. “Jump in if you like and we’ll drop you home.”
I feel quite dubious about doing so, seeing Angela’s accusing stare, so initially decline, but Hughie being Hughie, he won’t take no for an answer, so happy about it or not, I find myself sliding along the back seat, slipping the seat belt over my shoulder and closing the door.
Angela lifts her hand and pulls down the sun visor.
“I thought Josh would have taken you home last night after the meal.”
I push myself down, almost being swallowed by the deep leather seat, then shuffle and straighten myself up again. I don’t know why I’m feeling guilty, I’ve done nothing wrong.
“He showed me the treehouse; he wanted to see what I thought now you’d had it revamped.”
“If you say so,” Angela mumbles, and then blows out, misting the mirror through which she’s peering at me.
Smiling to myself, I continue to speak, though with more confidence now.
“It was down to a bottle of champagne. We just never thought, and when we did, well when Josh did, it was really late and he was way over the limit.”
“Easily done,” Hughie pipes up as we leave the grounds of Fordwickston Hall behind us.
Angela’s hazel eyes are glaring at me, though she says nothing.
I turn on my phone to browse through Facebook and avoid her stare. I remember Darcy saying that Adrianna had uploaded all the newborn pictures of Cairo; it will be nice to see him, and it’ll also give me something to do, as with half an hour confined in this atmosphere, it’s going to drag. I look on Adrianna’s Facebook wall, but can’t find any pictures of the baby. Maybe Danielle had seen them and wasn’t happy, as I know how private she is about her life and everything in it, so my gut instinct is telling me she would have made sure Adrianna deleted every one.
I read a few new posts, then click off Facebook and sit back, half listening to Angela’s conversation with Hughie.
“And when Michelle finds out…” Angela snaps. “Don’t you think things between them are bad enough?” She glances down, messing around in her black patent handbag. “Look at your granddaughter.”
She closes her bag and holds up a small silver photo frame. I see a slight turn of Hughie’s head.
“Savannah… Can’t you see? Josh is playing around with his daughter’s future, our granddaughter.”
“Angela, give it a rest.” Hughie releases the gearstick and rubs his hand down his face. “If Josh isn’t happy with Michelle…”
I can feel an awkward pause fall between them, and Hughie shakes his head.
“He was never like this with Tash.” His large green eyes smile at me through the rear-view mirror. “She felt, no, she was part of our family, but with Michelle…” He shakes his head again. “It’s just not the same.”
It’s tit for tat between them, with my name caught somewhere in the middle. I think it’s the monotony of their voices that makes my thoughts able to drown them out. I’m back thinking of Cairo’s pictures, and I remember Darcy did mention that Adrianna had uploaded a few videos of Cairo on YouTube.
I find three videos, but the one I keep going back to is the one just after he was born. I can see him lying in Danielle’s arms, his tiny frame wrapped in a soft powder-blue blanket. I smile down at my screen as I see that he’s got a full head of platinum-blonde hair. I scroll further down and stop at a video of the twins; Adrianna has Harper in one arm and Iris-Mae propped up against the other. A couple of comments have been posted, and interested to see who they’re from and what they say, I click on them and read. Adrianna had replied to someone called Sharon, and as I read on I find a link to her blog, the one she always seemed to find a reason not to give to me. My journey through surrogacy are the first words I read. Adrianna had posted how happy she was to be able to do this for me and Gabriel, and I work out she would have been about eight weeks pregnant when she wrote this. There were a couple more entries, but these were more about how she was feeling, the nausea and the tiredness. I scroll to where she mentioned her twelve-week scan. It was so strange today. I’ve been feeling the odd flutter, but to lie on the couch at the hospital and see them both, I could have cried, seeing them moving about inside me, with their tiny arms and legs. For those short moments I think I fell in love; they no longer felt like babies I’m carrying for my sister, they felt like mine, my own.
As I continue, I can feel the blood run from my face. I touch my cheeks and they feel clammy yet cold. Danielle’s words are ringing in my head and beginning to ring true. I sit back and mull over everything she said to me over the phone. Then my mind wanders to Adrianna and the way she’s been since living here. I’m chewing my fingernails. Were all her little digs, her finding fault with Gabriel’s parenting skills and getting me to side with her, her way of causing a rift between us?
“God,” I mutter, “I’ve been so blind.” With Adrianna’s intervention, I’ve managed to drive away my soul mate.
The argument between Angela and Hughie seems to have now descended into an awkward silence. Angela’s staring out of the passenger-side window, and Hughie is humming some old archaic tune I’ve never heard before.
My phone vibrates and I glance down into my lap. I roll my eyes when I see it’s a text from Josh, asking me where I am. I text back: Long story!!!