Mrs Burgess was reading the papers in the sunroom when Darcy walked in. She was still in her dressing gown, her silk nightgown matching (of course) and her hair already neatly coiffed. She was sitting at the cream dining table, the papers of the day spread out all around her as she perused the business section with her usual Early Grey (Burgess brand TM) tea in the smoking pot next to her.
She looked down her glasses at him and he shuffled in, squinting at the bright light coming in from the numerous high, thin windows. The sunroom was his mother’s favourite room. She spent much of her time in here, or in the conservatory that led off it at the bottom of the room. It was light and airy, a stark contrast to the bright, white, marbled family rooms, and the dark wood rooms his father occupied. In here, it was all florals, pretty cream furnishings, wall-to-wall bookcases full of colour-coordinated books. It looked like the perfect room for his mother, as she sat there, looking so at leisure, but Darcy knew different. The room had been designed by her for photoshoots, the woman behind Burgess Tea. People wanted to believe the homely image, the successful businesswoman, pride of Yorkshire. It was what she traded on, even enjoyed being from time to time. What they didn’t see was the rod of steel that ran through her womanly features. Especially when it came to her family, her children. She ran the Burgess Tea empire like the Queen of England ran the monarchy, and she never let a thing escape her notice.
‘I see the papers are finally dying down about your wedding farce,’ she said, her soft tones sounding like slippers brushing along a deep-pile carpet. ‘I think our PR girl really did earn her money this time.’
Darcy rolled his eyes but said nothing. ‘It’s not over yet, though. I told you, I can make things right with Maria, if only you’ll let me. Sending that godawful publicity girl to pose with me on the beach wasn’t the best idea either, was it?’
His mother folded the paper in half, dropping it back onto the table.
‘I told you the day you left her standing at that altar, and again the day you came home from the hospital, we need to manage this situation, which means staying the hell away from her and letting the gossip rags calm down. She’s done the right thing, now why can’t you?’
‘What do you mean, done the right thing? She didn’t do anything wrong!’
His mother picked up an envelope from the pile of post she had on the table and waggled it at him.
‘Charity ball in Leeds this weekend; I thought you could attend with me. Your father wants to stay at home – you know how he hates those things. I thought this could be good PR for you. Some bloody good women going too, by all accounts. Perfect for casting your net out again, discreetly of course.’
‘Mother, what do you mean the right thing? And I’m not casting my net anywhere. I don’t want to go.’
Beatrice huffed. ‘The right thing by keeping quiet – quite dignified of her, I thought. Besides the rather dramatic hospital dash. That smacked of desperation a little. Did you ever find out what was wrong?’
Yes, mother, she’s carrying your grandchild. Heir to your throne. ‘She was exhausted, low blood sugar, dehydration.’
Beatrice tutted. ‘These young waifs, they never look after themselves. Never mind, at least it’s over now.’ She took a sip of her tea. ‘Your black tuxedo, I think, for the dinner. Have it dry-cleaned, won’t you?’ She smiled at him sweetly. ‘A haircut wouldn’t go amiss either.’
She picked the paper back up, seemingly dismissing him. He cleared his throat.
‘Mother, I am going to see Maria again. We have things to discuss. I shan’t be going to the charity ball either. I plan to get back with Maria, and marry her. I know I messed up, but without you constantly in my ear, telling me how unsuitable she was…’
‘Who do you think you’re speaking to?’ Her tone was icy. ‘You will be going to that charity ball, and yes, you did mess up. I had you meeting every eligible lady in the county, all with breeding, and money, and you go to some backwoods community event and meet a bloody shopgirl!’
‘She’s not just a shopgirl, she owns the place! She’s a successful businesswoman, just like you.’
‘Me!’ Beatrice snorted. ‘She is nothing like me! I married a man with a two-bit business and turned it into the most successful tea company in England, and I did it all while raising a family!’
‘Well, actually—’
She cut him off before he could drop his bombshell. Her usual trick of raising one hand and pinching the bridge of her nose with the other. It had never failed to silence him as a child; she didn’t even need words. Just that hand to silence him, and the action to convey her annoyance and pain at what he was saying. She used her migraines like warnings.
‘Don’t do that, or Mummy will get a migraine.’
‘Keep the noise down, Mummy has a migraine coming on.’
Darcy realised he was never going to get out from under the shadow of this woman. He loved her, but everything he was and everything he had were down to her. Dependent on her. His job, his apartment, his lifestyle, all paid for by Burgess Tea. His mother would see him married off to some other heir to some other throne. She was already talking about the daughter of a local biscuit factory owner. Imagine the headline then. Tea and biscuits down the aisle? Dirty Darcy dunks into married life again for a second bite of the biscuit?
It didn’t bear thinking about, and he already had a blossoming family out there, waiting for him to man up.
‘Mother,’ he said, ignoring his mother’s wince. ‘I will go to that ball, but as for Maria, that door is most certainly not closed. I’m taking the rest of the day off.’
He didn’t dare wait for an answer. He was out of there, his expensive Italian imported shoes squeaking as he half-ran across the marble hall to the front door. Once in the car, his mobile rang in his pocket. He didn’t need to look to know who it was. He had to get this sorted now, once and for all, before his mother called the dogs in.
***
December
‘Is this the place?’ James asked as they saw a sign half-obscured by the roadside. They had been driving on this road a good few miles, and the sat nav was no help at all, other than binging at them every now and again.
‘I can’t really see the sign clearly,’ Maria said, frowning, trying to see the words through the thick brush around it. ‘They should really cut this back, get some better signage in. How do the guests even find the place?’
He indicated, turning the van down past the sign. The road was narrow, well-maintained, with thick trees at either side. The light in the van darkened as they drove, the weak winter sunlight failing to crack through the thick branches above them.
‘Be nice here when it snows, I bet, as long as you don’t mind being holed up.’ Maria nodded to herself, smiling at the thought of being in a hotel while the snow fell outside. Would she ever have that again? It was hard to think of someone whisking her off for a romantic weekend with a baby in tow. Who would take that on? She rubbed her tummy, feeling guilty for thinking of the baby that way. Her mother never had, and she wasn’t about to either. She was happy with her decision, despite the circumstances.
‘You okay? I told you I could have come here on my own, you know. I could have FaceTimed you.’
Maria shook her head, tapping the clipboard she held in her hands. ‘So you would have gone through my checklist, all on your own?’
James looked at the pages and pages of typed notes she had printed off and winced.
‘Maybe not. I would probably have just checked they did a nice beer on tap, and what time the bar closed.’
‘See? You need me here, with you.’
She looked out of the window, marvelling at the beautiful countryside. Westfield was beautiful, but this place was lovely, right on the outskirts of Harrogate.
James looked at her, her tiny bump just visible through her long coat, and smiled.
‘Yeah, I do,’ he said softly.
The venue, Keane Hall, was gorgeous, despite the obscured sign, which of course Maria mentioned. The owner, Mr Hugo Harrison, was more than accommodating and agreed to cut down the foliage before the big day. Everything else had passed muster so far, and now they were sitting in the main dining hall, waiting for their starter. Mr Harrison had insisted they dine at the restaurant there, to taste the food, and of course Maria had agreed, being the professional. She was pretty hungry anyway, but her stomach was complaining of more than hunger.
Being here, in this hall, sitting at this table, she could now imagine the wedding she was planning, and it was making her feel nauseous. She had managed to pretty much avoid Mark altogether, and he certainly hadn’t tried to contact her. Annabel kept in touch with emails, but she was trying to stay away, Maria knew, for the sake of her own sanity and to keep the bridezilla tendencies at bay. James had been a godsend, helping her, but the closer their friendship got, the more Maria worried about the big day. And when it was over, what then? Would she finally be able to relax, when the Chance family, and Mark, were in her rear-view mirror? The thought of not speaking to James filled her stomach with knots of dread too. It had to happen, though, she knew that. Especially when the baby came. There would just be too many questions. She couldn’t risk it all coming out, and James hating her. Especially if he got to know her child. That wouldn’t do at all. She couldn’t let anybody into her child’s life she wasn’t sure would be there for good.
No, she would stick to the plan.
‘So, what are your plans now?’ James asked, pouring iced water into both of their glasses. The table was set up beautifully: candlelit candelabra and shiny silver cutlery on white linen tablecloths. The hall itself was bright and welcoming, with a large feature window on one wall, letting the light flood in. They did the bigger events – like the Smith-Chance wedding – in here. It would be lovely, she could see it now.
‘Plans?’ she asked, taking a sip of water to collect her thoughts. Did I speak out loud?
‘Yeah, I know you said you didn’t want me to help with the upstairs, but I just wondered if you had any plans for when the baby comes. Did you ring someone to help? Have you thought about where you’ll live?’
‘I… no, not really. Cass says I can stay with her, of course, but with Tucker still recovering there, it’s a bit awkward. She’s still on the couch because I have her spare room. I offered to share my bed with her, but apparently I’m a kicker in my sleep these days.’
James nodded. ‘So no plans to move above the shop?’
Maria frowned. ‘I haven’t really called anyone yet. Lynn has been clearing things out up there, but it’s not really ideal. Pushchairs and everything are going to take up space.’
‘Why not rent somewhere?’
Maria shook her head. ‘I can’t really afford to rent a house round here, and there aren’t many flats in Westfield. I’ll sort something out. Once the baby comes, I plan on getting back to work, and hopefully this wedding will start to bring some bookings in, once word gets around. I can bring the baby to work with me in the shop, and Lynn said she’ll help when I have an event.’
James nodded. ‘I have a house, you know, in Harrogate.’
‘To rent out? I couldn’t afford to rent a house, James. Especially not in Harrogate.’
‘No,’ he laughed. ‘I mean I own a house, I live in it. Our grandmother left us a decent bit of money when she passed, and I bought before the housing bubble burst. Annabel lives with Mark again now, so it’s just me. It’s a three-bedroomed house, Maria. I was thinking that if you needed somewhere, you could come stay with me.’
The waiter chose that moment to bring them their melon starters, making a fuss of asking if they wanted to change their minds about the wine, checking they had enough bread. James was polite, answering the waiter’s questions, thanking him. Maria had a flashback to when she had last dined out with Darcy. The waitress had been a bubbly girl, eager to please, probably warned by her boss to give them the star treatment. Darcy had been dismissive from the start, lowering himself to downright rude by the time the dessert trolley was wheeled out. The poor girl looked close to tears several times, and she remembered how embarrassed she had felt, how ashamed her mother would have been of his treatment of that girl.
Everyone has to earn a crust, she used to say, echoing the words her late husband had used. Don’t treat them like they aren’t even worthy of your crumbs. It was something that was ringing in her head all through the meal. How had she forgotten that? His sneering attitude sometimes, the looks of derision he gave some of the people they met. It was the part of him she hadn’t liked, but often overlooked. The side that came from his mother.
‘Maria, you need anything?’
James and the waiter were both looking at her expectantly.
‘No,’ she said, shaking her head. ‘Thank you very much. It’s lovely.’
The waiter smiled and moved away, dealing with one of the few other diners in the room who were just now coming in.
‘So, they use this room for weddings on a weekend, and they will, of course, accommodate all the guests, and the honeymoon suite will be included.’
Maria glanced at her clipboard, wondering if she had covered everything the couple wanted.
‘Did you hear me?’
Maria sighed. ‘Yes, I heard you, James, and it’s incredibly generous, but I can’t—’
‘Don’t answer yet. Think about it. Come and see the house, if you like. You have time yet.’
She pressed her lips together. She couldn’t do it, even if she wanted to. How would that be? The baby was related to him, in a loose, by-marriage way. Or soon would be. It would be far too weird. She wanted to tell him, thanks, but no thanks. Explain to him why she couldn’t do it, why she had to keep her distance, because one day soon they would have to part ways, and the thought of it was more than a little sad to her. She felt tears prick at her eyes and blinked them away quickly. Bloody hormones. No wine, and she cried at the drop of a hat. Hard to keep a ‘lying to everyone’ poker face up with that. Not very Ocean’s Eleven, snotting over everyone you had to fib to.
‘Okay. I have time.’
He smiled at her, his pearly white teeth flashing between his full lips, and her heart bumped a little extra beat. Shame, she thought to herself, pushing the thought away.
After dessert, the owner had arranged for one of the porters to show them the rooms where the guests would be staying, and the honeymoon suite, which was on the very top floor of the hotel.
Maria was still feeling full from lunch, and more than a little bit tired. Apparently, at this stage, she should have started feeling full of energy, but she was pretty sure the info she’d read online was actually a crock of shit. She felt like she would never feel bright-eyed and bushy-tailed ever again. Her boobs were swollen and sore, with huge veins starting to show under the surface, and her clothes were all starting to feel the strain of her expanding waistband. Not helped by Tucker’s cooking, which was wolfed down by her and Cassie every night. He cooked low-fat meals, but there were always seconds, and thirds. She was grateful, of course, because without him still living at Cassie’s, she would have ended up giving birth to a pizza baby. But still… She couldn’t get rid of the niggling feeling that, soon, both the men helping her in life would be gone, and that left her alone. Lynn and Cassie were there of course, but Lynn had her own life, and Cassie was as busy as ever. Soon enough, it would be her and a small, defenceless child. She needed to pull herself together.
The three of them – James, Maria and the porter, an affable young lad called Gavin, with mild acne and bright ginger hair – all headed in the lift to the top of the hotel, where the honeymoon suite was. As soon as the lift doors closed, Maria suddenly felt very claustrophobic, and lightheaded. She started to fan herself with the clipboard, using the half-ream of paper attached to waft around the stale air. The lift trundled along, the lights for each floor pinging ever so slowly.
James looked at her, his face full of concern.
‘Maria, you okay?’
‘Yeah,’ she said, waving her hand to reassure him. It flicked lethargically in his direction. ‘I’m just gonna… er… nap…’
She passed out cold, the clipboard clattering to the carpeted floor as her legs gave way under her. James grabbed for her, just catching her before she hit the deck.
‘In here,’ she heard a voice say. She was floating and giggled at the sensation.
She saw a white door in front of her, and she was cradled in something warm, and strong. She could feel the power beneath her, but she felt protected, safe. The door opened, a flash of red in the corner of her eye. She tried to follow it, but soon regretted it.
‘I don’t feel so good,’ she murmured, and felt the cradle around her tighten.
‘I’ve got you, it’s okay,’ James said softly. His voice sounded strange, not the usual relaxed tone she had got used to. ‘Call an ambulance, now.’
A vision of the hospital, the stark white room, the photographers, Darcy, sprang Maria from her stupor.
‘No!’ she shouted, trying to stand. ‘No ambulance, please.’
James sat down on the bed, with her still in his arms. She was coming round fast, her body feeling hot and sweaty, her hip hurting from where she had banged it collapsing in the lift.
She tried to stand, but James’s grasp was firm.
‘Just give it a minute. Gavin, forget the call for now. Can we just have a glass of water, please.’
Gavin, looking white as a sheet and obviously cursing his job choice today, garbled something at them and ran off down the corridor.
‘I think I scared him,’ she said glumly, feeling her body come to. ‘I’m fine, honestly. I think it was just the heat. My mother warned me about this. She was just the same with me, but I never really imagined what it would be like.’
‘You scared me. Again,’ he said, looking straight into her eyes. ‘I bet you haven’t been taking your iron tablets and had no breakfast. You need to let people take care of you, Mar, and look after yourself and the baby.’ His blue-green eyes were quite a bright green close up. They were really pretty. Sparkly, even. She could see her own face in them, her dazed expression mirrored in an emerald sea.
‘Your eyes are lovely, do you know that?’ she blurted. His brows lifted, making them pop all the more.
‘Yours aren’t so bad either.’ She could smell the chocolate from the pudding they had just eaten. It tasted sweet, mixed with his aftershave, a lemony scent that reminded her of when her mother cleaned the house in summer. A homey smell that centred her.
‘Are you really okay?’ he pressed, adjusting her slightly in his arms so she could sit up a little. He didn’t let go of her legs, and she made no move to sit up.
‘I will start looking after myself, I promise. I just need to get this wedding taken care of. I’m fine, honestly. I’m sorry I’m such a drama queen. I bet you rue the day you took my call.’
He stroked his fingers along her back, and she felt her nerve endings come to life.
‘No, not at all. I’m glad I answered. Maria, I—’
Gavin burst into the room, slamming into the already ajar door with such force that the doorstop sent it flying back into him, bopping him on the nose.
‘Ouch! Here, I got you some water, and I brought the first-aid kit. Mr Harrison is on his way.’
He held out a large green box and a bottle of Evian, hands trembling. The poor lad looked like he was about to join her in keeling over. James reached for the water, and Maria took the opportunity to slide her legs from over his and take a seat on the bed next to him. Mr Harrison came into the room then, casting a confused look Gavin’s way before putting his best beaming smile forward.
‘I heard you were unwell, Miss Mallory. I do hope you’re okay now?’
He was obviously panicking, and she clicked why. Of course. Her name had been all over the papers since the wedding and her dash to hospital. The poor man had started out looking forward to a nice, easy wedding booking, but now his hotel was going to be plastered all over the papers.
‘I’m fine. I just got a little hot, that’s all. Nothing you did. You and Gavin have been lovely, and the meal was gorgeous. I think we will be booking the wedding here; I just need to confirm with my clients. I’ll be in touch.’
Hugo Harrison’s shoulders sagged with relief and, stepping forward, he shook her hand.
‘Excellent, that’s all wonderful news. Well, I shall leave you to look around. Gavin, will you see them out when they’re ready?’
Gavin nodded, eyes wide in terror. ‘Yes, sir,’ he squeaked. Poor kid.
Mr Harrison nodded to him to follow him out of the door, and they both left. Hushed voices could be heard in the corridor.
James passed her the water and she took it, taking a big glug.
‘Oh, thanks, that’s better.’
James put the first-aid kit down on the bed, looking around at the room for the first time. The suite itself was lovely, a big four-poster bed in the centre of the room, ornate furnishings in light, airy colours. Just off the bedroom, an open archway led to the bathroom. Maria could see a claw-foot tub, a trolley full of high-end toiletries and plush towels filling it.
‘Nice, eh?’ James said, slowly pulling her to her feet. He’d picked up her bag when he caught her, and he passed it to her now. She pushed the bottle of water into it and nodded.
‘It’s lovely.’
‘I kind of carried you over the threshold into here, you know,’ he said, his expression suddenly mischievous. ‘A bit romantic really, if you think about it. Minus the fainting on me, of course.’
‘Oh, really?’ She walked over to the bathroom, peeping her head around the corner to check the rest of the room. She felt sturdy on her legs, thank God. Her dizzy spell had passed. She was going to have to stop getting so stressed. The next time, she might not be so lucky. The last thing she wanted was to be back in hospital on a drip.
‘Yep, I full-on carried you from the lift, like a scene from Backdraft. I always fancied being a fireman.’
She giggled, till the image of him striding out of a burning building all sweaty and covered in soot sprang into her mind, and the laughter turned into a strangled gasp in her throat. Mamma Mia!
He opened the closet doors and they both peered in together. ‘Yep, I really did. Till I decided that being an electrician and rescuing damsels in distress was much more important.’
Maria rolled her eyes. ‘You’re such a goofball.’
He grinned, waggling his eyebrows. ‘And you love it.’
She looked away, busying herself with her clipboard. This was getting too friendly. He carried me over the threshold? She remembered the feeling she’d had when she came to, in his arms. Had Darcy ever made her feel like that? If he had, she was hard pressed to remember it now. James had sat her down on the bed, in his arms, after carrying her into the honeymoon suite. She needed to get the hell out of there.
‘Right, I’m done. Shall we go?’ She pushed the clipboard back under her arm, all business when she looked back at him. He looked at her for a long moment before replying.
‘Sure, Mar, I’ll take you home.’
***
Maria was lying in the tub that night, the suds high all around her as she contemplated her day. She had called the midwife about her dizzy spell, and she was due to go in to the doctor’s the next morning to have everything checked. She felt fine now, but she didn’t want to risk anything happening to the baby. She knew what they would say: too much stress, not enough food or rest. She hadn’t been taking her iron tablets as she should have either. She needed to sort herself out.
She was already imagining the little thing here now, getting used to the tiny button that had invaded her body, making it swell, stealing her food. There was a knock at the door and Cassie’s voice rang out.
‘Mar, can I come in?’
‘Yeah,’ Maria said, and Cassie came through the door, shutting it behind her and sitting on the closed toilet seat.
‘I’ve had an idea, you know.’
‘Oh?’
‘Yeah, well, I had a client today, and they’re getting divorced because he won’t get the kids christened. She really wants to do it before they get too old, but he’s refusing to give consent.’
Maria looked at Cass, who was looking rather relaxed for once, a large glass of white wine in her hand. Her normally severe hairstyle had been blown out, her hair long and cascading down her shoulders, and instead of her usual sharp suit she was wearing a more feminine-cut, short-sleeved blouse and a pair of plum slacks.
‘You look nice. Are they really divorcing because of that?’
Cassie looked down at herself, shrugging.
‘Oh, thanks. Tucker picked it out. Not just that, no. He’d also been slipping one of the godmothers a bit of special attention, but still, it got me thinking.’
Maria was baffled. ‘About what?’
‘Kids’ clothes! You could make them, Mar, for the shop. No one in Westfield does them really. New Lease of Life does the knitted stuff from the nana knitting club thingy, but not clothes. You do the Halloween children’s stuff already, so why not do more? People have to do mail order or go into town. You could even make christening gowns! They’re just like wedding dresses for babies anyway, aren’t they? I bet they’d sell well, and Lynn could help you, and you could make a load for the baby too, save money.’
‘Oh my God, Cass, that’s bloody brilliant!’
Maria sat up quickly, sending bubbly water flying over the end of the bath. Cassie grabbed a towel from the rail and mopped it up before Maria could even make a move.
‘Wow, I’m living in a parallel universe, aren’t I? What the hell are you doing?’
Cassie looked up from wiping the last of the water away one-handed, throwing the towel into the newly acquired laundry hamper that now sat in there.
‘What?’ she said, swigging her wine. ‘Tuck cleaned up today; I’m just giving him a hand. He still can’t quite bend right.’
‘Tuck, eh?’ Maria knew her friend too well to let her off the hook. ‘And what else do you do for our little Australian friend, eh?’
Cassie knelt down near the top of the bath, her voice dropping to a whisper.
‘It’s not funny. I don’t know what to do, Mar. I think I might actually like him, but what am I going to do? I hit him with my car door and really hurt him. He’s been off work for ages. He’s got to be skint, but he’s too nice to say anything. He keeps buying food and cleaning stuff too! Do you think I should offer him some money, to help him? He won’t take any shopping money from me; I’ve tried. He might lose his digs!’
Maria shook her head. ‘No way. I think Tucker would really hate that. He doesn’t strike me as the kind of guy who would agree to that. You might offend him.’
Cassie rested her head on the side of the tub, and Maria stroked her hair, leaving a little trail of bubbles on her black locks.
‘Tell him how you feel, see what he says. He’s recovering well now; he knows you didn’t mean to batter him with your car—’ Cassie groaned. ‘I think you might be surprised.’
Maria had watched the pair of them skirt around each other every night, laughing at each other’s jokes, sitting on the sofa together, close enough to touch but not quite. She had been expecting to hear the pitter-patter of tiny, horny footsteps across the landing, but obviously that hadn’t happened yet. Perhaps Tucker wanted to be fighting fit before he started round two. Knowing their luck, he would probably sneak onto the couch and scare her to death, getting a throat punch for his trouble. She couldn’t blame him for wanting to be able to make a quick getaway from the lioness that was Cassie.
Cassie stood up, moving to the door. ‘Maybe, I don’t know.’ She drained her glass, waving her arms out wide. ‘I don’t do this, Mar, I don’t know how! How on earth did you do it?’
Maria laughed. ‘I didn’t do a stand-up job, did I? Left at the altar, knocked up on a one-night stand a month later, and now I’m planning—’
Cassie’s face dropped. ‘I thought you weren’t telling him? Mar, you can’t!’
Maria sank back down into the bubbles.
‘I’m not! Planning his wedding is bad enough. I feel awful, Cass. James’s sister – poor Annabel. Her Mark is my Mark. THE Mark. I still can’t believe it. James would be so upset, and he’s so lovely. I mean, today he—’
Cassie walked out of the bathroom door, slamming it shut behind her. Maria was still looking at it in shock when she came back in, bottle and glass in hand.
‘Tucker says dinner will be an hour. Roasted peppers and chicken something.’
She sat on the floor, pouring wine to near the brim of her wineglass.
‘You have to tell me everything, and you have an hour. Spill, now. Tell me about James.’
The roasted peppers were gorgeous, and the dinner was lovely. Tucker and Cassie were their usual selves, skirting around each other and making each other laugh with their daft jokes and sarcastic humour. Cassie was quite merry from the wine and, being exhausted from her day of passing out and gossiping, Maria headed off to bed early, leaving the two of them alone.
Cassie had grilled her, as only a solicitor could, asking her every little detail, who knew what, what happened next, whether Darcy had been in touch.
‘I haven’t seen him since he came to the hospital, and I don’t answer his calls. I think he’s got the message.’
‘And James? What about him? Does he really not know?’
The very thought twisted in her gut like a knife.
‘No, of course not. I’m doing it for him. He wants his sister to be happy, and so do I. I can do the wedding, save money for the baby, and then be out of their lives.’
She had thought of lying in James’s arms today, and a feeling had stirred in her that she squashed down. Nope, not today.
Cassie had looked dejected. ‘Can you do that, though? Not see him again?’
Maria had risked a look at her friend; she knew Cassie wasn’t daft.
‘Cassie, he’s Annabel’s brother. Mark’s brother-in-law. They’re family, not me. I have to get out of their lives as soon as the wedding is over, let them be happy.’
‘Do you think James will be happy, you not being his friend anymore? Because the way I see it, he’s got quite used to you being in each other’s lives, and so have you.’
Maria swallowed hard. ‘I have no choice. There’s no other way to do this. Besides, I have the baby to think of. That’s my priority.’
Cassie nodded. ‘Just remember, Mar, how lonely you were when your mum passed, even with Darcy. I haven’t seen you this happy in a long while, even with everything you have going on. It’s not a coincidence that James came along when he did.’
The words rattled around in her brain half the night, till she eventually passed out in a heap, her quilt wrapped around her. She dreamt she was trapped in a burning building, a tiny little bundle in her arms. She was screaming for Cass, for Lynn, calling her mother’s name. Then she saw him. A man, striding through the fire, fireman trousers slung low on his waist, showing the deep V of his taut muscles. His jacket was open, showing a bare, sticky-with-sweat chest, glistening in the bright, crackling flames of the fire. He took her into his arms, the baby in hers, and started to walk to the exit, through the flames. She looked at his face, and was met with Darcy’s.
‘I’m sorry, my love,’ he said. And then he was gone, his face morphed into Mark’s. His straggly, unkempt hair stuck to his head with sweat.
‘I’m here,’ he said. In her dream, she looked away, pushing her face closer to the bundle in her embrace.
‘I’ve got you both,’ a voice said, tickling her ear. She looked back at her rescuer, and it was James, smiling down at them. ‘I’ll always be here to carry you over the threshold.’
She woke up with a start, looking around her wildly before realising she was still warm in bed at Cassie’s house. She punched the pillow beside her, feeling more than a little flustered. It was going to be a very long pregnancy at this rate.
Christmas Day came, and Maria awoke in Cassie’s cottage to the sound of carols and the smell of bacon. Tucker was in the kitchen, clad in a pair of tracksuit bottoms and a Santa hat. Even his kangaroo tattoo looked festive.
‘Morning, mummy-to-be,’ he said, tipping his spatula towards her. ‘Happy Christmas!’
Maria, clad in a nightie and slippers, dressing gown wrapped around her against the chill of leaving her bed, grinned at him.
‘Happy Christmas, Jesse, you okay? Where’s Cass?’
Tucker grinned. ‘She’s in her bed. She got a bit pissed last night and forgot she was on the sofa.’
Maria’s mouth formed a perfect O as she gasped.
He shook his head. ‘Nah, mate, I was a perfect gent. I came into the lounge.’
Maria sagged, disappointed.
‘You two need to sort it out.’ Tucker nodded earnestly.
‘Tell me about it. Once I get better, I plan to. It’s just…’
He sneaked a peek into the hall, to check Cassie wasn’t listening.
‘Your mate is a complicated woman. I would rather things happen sober next time, then she can’t palm me off.’
Maria nodded, smiling at him. Cassie might just have met her match in Jesse Tucker.
‘Besides, she’s a bit handy with strange weapons, so I have to be careful.’ He raised his potted arm and she laughed. The doorbell went and she froze, looking at the door in terror.
Lynn was with her sister, sunning herself in Jamaica for the festive season. And Cassie’s parents were also in the Caribbean, no doubt making their private butler earn every penny of his wages and forgetting they had ever spawned a child.
Tucker went to the door, throwing a tea towel over his shoulder.
‘That’ll be our guest, right on time.’
Maria looked down the hallway, wondering who on earth would be coming here on Christmas Day. Tucker walked back into the kitchen, waggling his eyebrows at Maria.
‘Santa’s here,’ he said, and Maria found herself looking into James’s bright blue-green eyes, as he stood there, gift bags and a bottle of wine in hand.
‘Happy Christmas,’ he said, and she grinned.
‘Happy Christmas, James.’
***
January
Lynn took one look at her the first morning back at work and headed for the kettle.
‘Decaf coffee, love? You look awful!’
Maria pulled a face, taking off her hat, scarf and coat and slinging them onto the shoe rack. She kissed her fingers and touched her mother’s photo frame and her father’s hat on the way to the biscuit jar.
‘Thanks, Lynn. I didn’t sleep much, but the midwife says everything’s still fine. My iron levels are better, and my blood pressure is good.’
Fine and dandy. And apparently she was now a baby-making machine and a sex maniac. Over Christmas, the dreams had intensified, somehow including James dressed in nothing but a Santa hat. She couldn’t look at a Santa image now without blushing. Thank God it was back to normal business now.
‘Aww, that’s amazing! Did you hear the heartbeat again?’
Maria grinned. ‘Yeah, I did. It was so fast! I recorded it on my phone; I’ll send it to you. Amazing to think a little person with a little beating heart is in my tummy, isn’t it? I’m so glad everything’s okay.’
Lynn grinned. ‘Feeling the pregnancy bloom now, are we?’
Maria nodded. ‘Yes, I really think I am.’ She opened the biscuit tin.
‘Oh my God, where in the name of cock have all the friggin’ biscuits gone?’ She rounded on her work colleague, brandishing the tin at her and narrowing her eyes. Lynn was half-expecting a laser to shoot out of them and shrank back, shielding herself with a jar of decaf coffee.
‘Have you eaten them all, Lynn? Why didn’t you buy any more? I’m sooo hungry!’ She slammed the biscuit tin down. ‘Nothing goes right. Everything is so shit!’ She burst into tears, reaching for the kitchen roll and blowing her nose loudly. Lynn started making the coffee, and Maria felt a pang of shame.
‘I’m s-s-sorry, Lynn, I love you so much, I really do. I just really wanted a biscuit.’
Lynn nodded, passing her a coffee mug as though she was walking with a live bomb. Or towards one.
‘That’s all right, dear, I understand. You ate the biscuits, remember?’
Maria nodded, sniffing and trying to smile through her tears. She took a sip of her coffee and burst into loud tears again.
‘Decaf coffee tastes like turd! Why do I have to do this? I never asked for any of this. I’m so depressed!’
She plonked her coffee down on her desk, cradling the empty tin to her chest.
‘My life is over,’ she said, in a very undramatic tone.
The door opened then.
‘Whose life’s over?’ James asked, standing there with a tray of takeaway coffees from the café up the road, and a bulging carrier bag. ‘I just came to see what the midwife said, and I brought coffee. It’s not decaf, but I looked it up and you can have one a day without it hurting the baby. Also, the baby seems to like biscuits, so I brought some of them too.’
Maria burst into hysterical wails and Lynn ushered him in, giving him a hug and a peck on the cheek before taking the coffee with her name on it.
‘Baby’s fine, chicken, and I can honestly say I have never been so happy to see anyone in my life. I’m going to nip upstairs and do the online orders. Give me a shout before you go.’
James waved her off, taking a seat next to Maria, who was now sniffling into a huge wad of sodden kitchen roll. He put the coffees on her desk and, after a bit of coaxing, managed to pry the empty tin from the death grip she had on it. He opened one of the packets from the bag and filled it up. He held one to her lips, and she laughed through her tears.
‘Open wide,’ he commanded, and she bit into it, taking the rest from him. ‘So, midwife go okay?’
He took a hanky from his pocket and wiped her tears away. ‘Blow,’ he said, and she squeaked at him.
‘Eugh, no! I can’t!’
He wrapped the hanky round her nose and gave her his best stern look, which was mildly cross at best and very cute.
‘I’ve seen snot before. I work with big, burly builders. I’ve seen worse things come out of arse cracks, trust me.’
She giggled and did what she was told. He looked her over, seemingly satisfied.
‘Better. So, what’s wrong?’
‘I got a bit upset. It was a biscuit thing. Hormones, I think. The midwife says it’s going to get worse, and the rest of the stuff is no picnic either.’
‘Rest of the stuff?’
She blushed furiously. Not the best time to let slip about how horny she was, or the fact that her dreams were about him as a fireman, a jolly red-suited man, and a go-go dancer.
‘Nothing, just silly stuff.’
‘You’re both healthy, though, yeah?’
She told him yes, and he looked so relieved that her tummy fluttered. And then it fluttered again. Weird. She put her hand to her tummy, and she felt it again. A tiny little flutter. The midwife said she had felt it this morning, when she had the Doppler on, but Maria had discounted it as a hunger pain. Or maybe a suppressed fart. Another thing they left off the glowing-mum adverts on TV. The fact that your bum cheeks turned into the mouthpiece for a concerto of duck farts and foghorn toots.
Flutter flutter. There it went again. Definitely not flatulence.
‘Quick, feel!’ She grabbed James’s hand and placed it on her stomach, under her own. His hand felt huge on her tummy, hers fitting snugly on his. She could feel the warmth from his skin through her T-shirt. It fluttered again, and James’s face lit up.
She nodded, too choked up to speak. It felt so weird being here with him, doing this. Right, but so wrong. ‘I’m over four months now. The midwife said it would be happening.’
James leant in close, putting his other hand on her and cupping her belly.
‘Hey, little Sparky,’ he said softly. ‘You all happy and healthy in there?’
‘Sparky?’ she asked, entranced by his interest. Was this what having a baby with someone was like? She felt a pang for what she was missing out on.
He looked embarrassed. ‘Sorry, just my nickname. It’s an electrician thing. I know you call it Button, but I just call her Sparky.’
‘Her?’ Maria and another voice said. Darcy was standing in the doorway, staring at them both with a look Maria had never seen on him before.
The air crackled with tension. Maria felt like she could physically hear the hum of it in the air. Oh God, this is bad. He knows. Did he know already? Why is he here?
‘Her?’ Darcy asked again, a little meaner this time.
‘I… I… what are you doing here?’ she stammered, standing up. James’s hands fell from her tummy and he put them on his own jean-clad legs.
‘It’s a her? Our baby?’ Darcy said, a hint of wonder in his voice now. Our baby? Oh God, no. Why didn’t he seem more surprised? Was that why he was here?
‘Her baby,’ James growled. Darcy’s eyes narrowed, his sculpted brows furrowing.
‘Ours, I think you’ll find. Last time I checked. Here again, are we? Who are you, exactly?’
Maria opened her mouth to explain, but James stood up, standing close enough to Maria’s side to brush his arm against hers.
‘I’m James, not that it’s any of your business.’
Darcy snorted, a ridiculous, over-the-top sound he always made to show people his holier-than-thou contempt. Maria hated it, and she felt her skin bristle at the memory.
‘Funny thing, business, isn’t it? Being that this isn’t yours… James.’ He said James like a child might say Marmite sandwich, or extra homework. ‘I’ll thank you to leave now, so my fiancée and I can talk.’
‘Fiancée?’ James boomed, making Maria jump at his side. He didn’t take his eyes off Darcy, but squeezed her hand gently in his as if to apologise, to check she was okay. She couldn’t help but squeeze it back, keep it in hers for comfort. She could feel herself watching them distractedly, as though she was watching something she wasn’t a part of. Like a telenovela, enjoying the drama from her couch. ‘Mate, when you leave a woman at the altar, it’s a pretty sure sign that the engagement is off. Maria, do you want me to kick him out?’
‘Kick me out! How bloody dare you! You can leave, go on, go! Before I get really cross!’
‘Oooh, really cross, eh? Well, we can’t jolly well have you being cross, can we, you simpering douchebag!’
‘Douchebag? How dare you!’
James let go of her hand and walked forward slowly, as though he had all the time in the world. Darcy shuffled back before he could get hold of himself, but then puffed his chest out in response.
‘Go on then, make me leave. I dare you!’
James took another step, then looked back at her.
‘Maria?’ he asked, and she looked at him wide-eyed. ‘Do you want him to go?’
Maria heard footsteps behind her and saw Lynn coming into the room. Maria looked back at Darcy, at James. What did she want? She was going to have to tell him it wasn’t his, but in front of James?
She really didn’t want to tell him the one-night stand story. She had to tell Darcy, of course. Leaving out the fact of who the one-night stand actually was. James hadn’t asked about the father. Had he just assumed it was Darcy?
‘I… er… er…’
‘See?’ Darcy jumped in. ‘She doesn’t want me to leave, so give us a minute, would you? I’m sure you have a light bulb to fit somewhere.’ Darcy flicked his manicured finger at James’s hoody, which was emblazoned with his company name. James flinched, and Lynn came to stand at her other side, pulling her gently to the chair.
‘Sit down, hun,’ she said softly. ‘It’s okay.’
Maria felt pathetic. She couldn’t get the words out! Her worlds were colliding, and she didn’t know how to make it stop. She wanted to stop and get off the carousel that was her life now.
‘Listen, posh boy.’ James’s voice was like something she had never heard before from him. It was as though his whole body was vibrating with tension, his words a throaty rumble from deep within his chest. No, his core. He looked and sounded a little like Wolverine. ‘I won’t tell you again. Leave, now.’
Darcy stepped forward, pushing his hair back with one hand, his cufflink glinting in the light of the shop. Maria knew it well; it was part of a set from her. A present one birthday, their initials entwined on the face of each. She had wanted him to wear them for the wedding, but his mother had insisted he would be wearing a pair of his father’s. Family tradition apparently, which was fair enough. Maria understood the importance of family, if nothing else. She’d never got the chance to follow many traditions in her family, so she didn’t want to mess with his, cause any trouble. She had only ever wanted his love, and to be a part of his family.
‘I don’t think so. We have things to discuss, and I don’t understand why you’re still here, arguing with me about something that doesn’t involve you one iota.’
‘I could say the same to you, young man,’ Lynn said, stepping forward. ‘You should just go. I’m sure Maria will call you if she wants to. But if she did, she would have done it by now, don’t you see that?’
Maria sighed. Now even Lynn was sticking up for her. She really needed to put an end to this. Once and for all. Before the whole thing came tumbling out.
‘Yes, please, Darcy, just leave. I don’t want to talk to you.’
She looked at him for the first time, properly, in the face, and was shocked when she felt it. She had thought about him so much since the day he had humiliated her, but now he was there, she wished him away. She felt nothing, nothing but shame. Looking at him had her straight back in that wedding dress, climbing out of the window of the side room to avoid her guests. Crying over her fries in the burger bar, her friend trying to pick up the dropped stitches of her ripped-apart life.
‘You heard her.’ James took this as carte blanche to turn into some kind of enforcer and folded his arms in front of Darcy. It was quite comical, James being a good foot taller than Darcy, but Mr Burgess wasn’t used to being dismissed in such a manner.
He leaned to one side, looking at her with pleading eyes.
‘Maria, we have to talk, I need to explain, and…’
He took a step forward and James reached out with one arm and placed his open palm square on the front of Darcy’s head. Darcy tried to take another step forward, but James never budged and he was jerked back.
Darcy lost it then and, bending in half, emitted a strange ‘weeeehhhh’ sound and tried to slam into James’s torso. James let go of his head and, catching him in his arms with an ‘ooof’, went straight in and tried to tackle him back. James’s shove propelled the pair nearer the door, and then he was like a prop forward in a rugby scrum, lifting Darcy half off the floor and towards the door. Darcy started punching James in the ribs, the kidneys, but James slapped him on the behind hard and Darcy screamed. Actually screamed. Lynn was by now flapping her arms, running around the pair, saying, ‘Stop it, stop it now, boys!’ Maria was too scared to get close, in case a flying arm caught her. She was already feeling pretty off balance. One shove and she would be straight back in hospital. James kept flicking his gaze to her, as though checking she was okay, out of the way.
‘Darcy, stop it!’ she shouted, just as James roared and reared back, clutching his arm.
‘You bit me?!’ he said, looking at Darcy like he wanted to drop kick him through the shop window. ‘You bloody bit me, you snobby wanker! What are you, a flipping toddler?’
‘You can talk, you knuckle-dragging buffoon! What the hell are you even doing here?’
He turned to Maria then, realisation crossing his features. Maria steeled herself. This was it. Truth time.
‘Are you shagging this gorilla?’ he demanded. ‘What is it, a bit of rough to get back at me? Classy move, Maria, I must say. I shan’t have it!’
That was it. That was the moment she flipped.
‘Have what? My life is nothing to do with you, Darcy! YOU LEFT ME ALONE!’ she screamed at him, a howl of pure pain in her words. ‘I was all alone! Get out, now! I don’t have to answer to you! Go back to your bloody mother!’
Lynn came to her side, standing close to her and folding her arms sternly.
James went to push him again, but he held up his hands.
‘Okay, I know, I know. I’ll go, but we need to talk. You must realise that. We’ll have to talk at some point. We have so much to talk about!’
Maria shook her head. ‘No, we don’t. I don’t want to talk to you ever again. Just go. Don’t come back, Darcy, I mean it. There’s nothing here for you.’
He hung his head, and she took him in. His shirt was hanging out, one side torn, and his normally flashy hairstyle was a bird’s nest on top of his head. She could see he was sweating, and she glanced at James. His back to her, his stance rigid, he didn’t even look out of breath. The only evidence of a fight was the red teeth marks on his now uncovered arm, his sleeve pulled up to show the damage. She felt a pang of guilt. She had to tell Darcy Burgess the truth about the baby. He’d said ‘ours’ for a reason. This was bad. She had to get rid of him. Once and for all. What was it they said? Oh yes. The truth will set you free. And get rid of the posh git who left you at the altar to please his mummy-kins. The sad thing was, it also put paid to dashing rescuers as well.
‘I’ll call,’ he said, turning to the door. ‘And you will answer.’
James took slow steps forward, punctuating his exit.
‘Do me a favour, though,’ he said in a low voice. ‘Stop acting like a common slut, at least when you’re carrying my child.’
Maria heard a bang, followed by a thud, and it took a good three or four seconds before her brain was able to process what her eyes had just seen. Without saying a word, James had taken a step forward, and then Darcy was on the floor, knocked clean off his feet. James had swung his right arm, and that was it. Hit-the-deck time.
James leant forward, right into Darcy’s bewildered face.
‘Don’t you ever speak to her like that again, you hear me?’
‘Do you know who I am?’ Darcy spluttered through his rapidly swelling face. James laughed, an easy, carefree laugh. One Maria had heard many times before. It was at odds with his gait, which was coiled tight. The man was mad, she could see it.
‘I don’t care who you are. You will never, ever, speak to her like that again. Right?’
Darcy looked as though he might have trouble remembering his own name, let alone the horrible one he had just uttered, and he nodded reluctantly. James hauled him to his feet and out the door, leaving the two women standing there in silence.
‘Well,’ Lynn said, rubbing her hands together as though shaking off the dust of Darcy. ‘Shall I make a pot of tea?’
***
Outside, Darcy was trying, very unsuccessfully, to keep his dignity, and his feet on the ground, while James marched him to his car.
‘This yours, is it?’ he said, pointing to the rather flash white Porsche. His weekend car. He nodded, trying to wriggle out of James’s rock-hard grasp and gain some purchase on the pavement with his Italian leather shoes. James suddenly let go, and Darcy windmilled his limbs to stay on his feet.
‘Bye,’ James said, turning away to go back into the shop. He needed to check everyone was all right.
‘Tell me something first.’ Darcy’s voice stopped him in his tracks. ‘Is she… are they okay?’
James closed his eyes, sighing deeply. When he opened them again, he could see Lynn and Maria talking, Maria sipping from a mug, one hand on her growing bump. He felt a huge surge of feeling slam into his chest once more, just as when Darcy had called her that name. He was in this, whatever it was, and he didn’t know how, or in what way exactly. It was nothing he could put into words. He just knew he wanted to be there.
‘They’re fine,’ he said, turning to look at Darcy, who was inspecting his rather swollen face in the wing mirror of his car. Priorities, eh, Darce? Pretty boy.
He turned to look at him then, jutting out his glass chin.
‘I’m not going to go away, you know. I’m here to stay.’
James shook his head and went to walk back inside.
‘Yeah, well, so am I. And I never left, either.’
Maria was just drinking a warming cup of herbal tea when James walked back in. She heard the roar of Darcy’s car driving away. His weekend Porsche, obviously. She’d always hated that thing. It was like being careened across the road in a low toboggan, but he loved it.
James came straight over and sat next to her. Lynn was working in the back, singing along to Nina Simone on the radio.
‘You didn’t need to do that, James,’ Maria said, looking at him coldly.
‘I know, I’m sorry. I didn’t think about it in all honesty. I just reacted so I apologise for my part, but no one speaks to you like that.’
‘Why not? Why am I so special? He’s mad, I get it.’ She looked down at her lap, her hand stroking her tummy.
‘He’s mad? Why do you care how he feels? The man is a louse, Mar, pure and simple.’
Mar. Not many people called her that, and now James was one of them. She thought of the scene Darcy had walked in on. Them together, over her bump like that. So blissfully domestic. She didn’t know what Darcy knew, but he’d obviously picked up on something Maria herself had been trying to ignore.
‘James, you need to go too, I think.’
James’s eyes widened in shock, and he reached for her hand, covering it with his over her bump.
‘I really am sorry, I just lost my temper. You have to know, that’s not me.’
‘It’s not that… it’s not just that, anyway.’ She picked up his hand and, after a moment, placed it on his own leg. He looked down at it, but said nothing. ‘You’ve been so good to me, with the wedding and the shop and everything, but I really… I just need to get used to doing things on my own now.’
James frowned. ‘Why, when I’m here?’
‘I can’t rely on you, James.’ She stood up, stretching out her back and suddenly feeling very tired.
‘What makes you think that? When have I ever let you down?’ He looked so confused, aghast. She tried to summon up an occasion to strengthen her non-existent case, but of course nothing came to mind. He had always been there, her rock.
‘Listen…’ She looked at him kindly. ‘I love your company, but you have a business to run. Surely you have things to do, besides bailing me out of my misery and being a bouncer. I just think maybe we should have a break from each other. We have all this wedding stuff to do together anyway, so it’s not like we won’t see each other.’
Maria noticed that the radio in the back room was noticeably quieter, and she knew Lynn would probably have something to say to her later.
He didn’t say anything at first, and the look he gave her broke her heart a little. His hair was doing the tufty thing she liked, which meant he had probably jumped straight out of bed, and just wanged a comb through his dark locks. He always looked so eager in the morning. She imagined him jumping straight out of bed at first light, eager to get the day going.
‘That’s not an answer. So now, because of Darcy, in the space of a few weeks, we’ve gone from possibly living together to being strangers?’ He stood and looked down at her. She caught a waft of his aftershave and had to fight the urge to tuck herself into his big arms. ‘I don’t want to do this. I’m sorry if I overstepped today, but that man…’ He jabbed at the window and clenched his fists at his sides.
He fixed his gaze on her, and she looked away.
‘He just gets me mad. He doesn’t know what he had. He never deserved it in the first place, and he still threw it away.’
‘He did know, and he left. That’s the point, James. I need to concentrate on my baby and the business, and that’s it. I can’t deal with anything else right now. I need to move on.’
‘I’m not asking for anything! I thought we were friends? Why do you need to move on from me?’
‘We are friends, James, but I have Cassie and Lynn. I’m fine.’
She looked to the door, and she could feel her whole body shaking. ‘I’ll let you know when the next appointment is, okay? For the wedding, I mean. I need to go sit down for a bit.’
James clenched his jaw and strode to the door.
‘I don’t want to stress you out, so I’ll go. Tell Lynn I said bye.’ He slammed the door behind him, and the radio sang a sad song in the background. One she used to love, about true love and perfect partners. What a crock of utter crap.