Chapter Four

Chapter Four

         The trees swayed gently in the breeze outside her window, the birds twittered merrily, enjoying what could well turn out to be the last of the Autumn sunshine. The weather forecasters had promised heavy rainfall for all of the coming week. Grace sat at the end of her bed, admiring her garden. The leaves had started dropping off the large chestnut tree and the grass was due for a cut, the last of the year. She decided to spend the day weeding, cutting the grass and sorting out the garden shed; it would be nice to be able to locate everything instantly when Spring turned up once more, rather than fighting her way past shovels, rakes and assorted fertilizers. She pulled on an old pair of jeans and a Bon Jovi t-shirt, which she had bought at a concert back in the early nineties.
         Back then, she’d been a big fan, had bought all the albums and singles, often spending the last of her pocket money on magazines featuring Jon’s handsome face. She and her best friend from school, Megan, would pour over the articles, absorbing all they could about their idol; they had even kept a small ‘facts and stats’ file about Jon’s life and often spent their afternoons together testing each other on facts about Jon’s early years, record releases and chart positions.
         The postman had already delivered the mail, and she picked up the letters – bills, for the most – and the local paper. As she boiled the kettle and scooped the fresh, ground coffee into the cafetiere, she flicked it open. She knew that the advert for her salons would appear on page seven, as usual, on the top left hand corner but she always checked that the advert appeared as per the agreement with The Courier. Although the type facing, basic price list (manicure, half leg wax, eyebrow shaping being the most popular), addresses and phone numbers remained unchanged, the monthly special offers had to catch the readers’ eyes. This month it was a half hour facial massage at twenty-five percent discount. She was pleased with the look of the advert; it was stylish and more expensive looking than what she actually paid for it.
         Her loyalty to The Courier over the previous six years had paid off and over time she had managed to negotiate a very attractive deal. It helped, of course, that she had once been very close to the account manager who was responsible for all dealings with her business.
         After her breakfast of coffee, orange juice and toast, she called Laura to check that everything was ok at the salon. The night after Lucy’s treat, Grace had offered Laura the position of assistant manager with immediate effect. They had agreed that, at first, Grace would take Mondays and Wednesdays off, leaving Laura in charge. Grace would continue to do all the managerial, background work such as stock ordering and supplier negotiations while Laura learned the ropes around the salons. This being Laura’s first day as second in command, she thought she’d lend her a bit of moral support in case she needed it.
          ‘Everything is fine’, Laura said, sounding confident. ‘Mrs Morris has cancelled her ten-forty appointment but another customer just rang for an urgent manicure so we managed to fill the slot straight away. That means we just have half an hour’s down-time around three with only one client.’
          ‘That’s excellent. Did the new Crystal Clear equipment turn up yet?’
          ‘No, not yet. Do you want me to call you when it does?’
          ‘No, don’t worry, I am heading out into the garden now so I will call you around lunchtime if that’s ok?’
          ‘Yes of course.’
          ‘Any problems, give me a call on my mobile as I probably won’t be able to hear the phone in the garden.’
          ‘OK, no problem. Talk to you later. Oh, Grace, by the way’
          ‘Yes?’
          ‘Melissa passed her massage course but we are still waiting for the results on the homeotherapy exam.’
          ‘That’s excellent. Tell her congratulations from me. I’ll pop in just before closing with a card or something for her.’
          ‘Great, see you later then’.
         Grace felt quietly confident that once again, when it came to her staff, she had made the right decision. Laura was one of the younger of her girls and she had only been with her for just over eighteen months, but she had a very similar combination of hard grafting, integrity and people skills as Grace herself. Understandably, she did not feel concerned in the slightest about leaving Laura in charge and headed out into the garden with a small smile on her face. The first tasks in hand, she decided, was to collect the dead leaves, cut the lawn and then to strim along the flowerbeds, the patio and the chestnut tree. After an hour, she had already filled four wheelbarrows of compost fodder. The autumn rays warmed her back as she knelt down to start the weeding.
         Weeding, for some inexplicable reason, had always been therapeutic to her. Although somewhat mind numbing, it had the definite bonus of allowing her thoughts to wander off down a multitude of lanes and trains of thoughts; some of her most crucial and life-changing decisions had been formed while weeding. She attributed this to the fact that the relaxed mind was less fickle and could therefore see the ‘big picture’, unclouded by the humdrum of day-to-day life. It wasn’t so much that she set out to do the gardening in order to reach a decision, more that they just seemed to come to her when she was.
         The squeaking of the garden gate being opened interrupted her thoughts. She took off her gardening gloves and walked towards the gate by the side of the house. She wondered who it might be, turning up unannounced.
         A slim, petite brunette wearing a brown suede jacket, white t-shirt and blue jeans and a wide smile greeted her.
          ‘Tammy! Hello, you found me then!’ she opened her arms and hugged her warmly.
          ‘Yeah, sorry, I was going to get here yesterday but decided to spend the night in London with a mate from back home. It’s so good to see you!’ Grace had almost forgotten the lilting Australian accent with which Tammy spoke.
          ‘You too. Come on in, I’ll put the kettle on.’
          ‘OK, I will just go and get my bags’ said Tammy and walked back around to the front of the house.
         I must remember to oil damn old thing, thought Grace as she watched Tammy disappearing through the rusty old gate.

         Lucy sat for several minutes staring at the floor, tears streaming down her face. The rest of the world seemed to be blocked out; she did not hear the sound of the cars driving past outside, nor did she hear the boys fighting downstairs over which program they should watch next. She just felt numb. It was as if she was having an out of body experience and she was watching a stranger sat there on bath, gripping onto the edge, staring into a blank, obscure space somewhere on the linoleum tiles.
         A loud scream from downstairs catapulted her back to reality; her sound and vision came back into sharp focus and she felt herself making an effort to pull herself together for the sake of the boys. With heavy feet, she walked down the stairs, gripping the banister; she thought her feet might give way beneath her otherwise. She wiped the tears from her eyes and tried making her voice sound its normal cheerful self.
          ‘Boys, what’s all the shouting for?’
          ‘I want to watch Thunderbirds but James won’t let me!’ Georgie shouted. They were tugging at each their end of the remote control.
          ‘James, if you let Georgie watch Thunderbirds, you can decide what we have for dinner, all right?’
          ‘Can we have shepherd’s pie, Mummy?’ James asked excitedly, jumping up and down and surrendering the remote control without realising it.
         She managed a tired smile. ‘Shepherd’s pie takes a bit too long to cook, but we can have it on Saturday if you like. Pick something else, come on to the kitchen with me and I will show you what we have got.’
         James settled for grilled sausages and beans on toast. He hurried back to the living room to sit down on the floor next to his brother who was now engrossed in his favourite show. She could hear them chattering but couldn’t make out the words. I must ring Adam, she thought, he needs to know.
         As soon as those very words flicked through her brain she wondered how he might react. She worried he would think she had become pregnant on purpose, in order to try and trap him but she also knew him to be far too decent a person to think such awful things of her. Recalling how they had so often dreamed about having children of their own, while they had still been planning a future together, she wondered what difference the previous two weeks of them being apart would make. She wasn’t sure whether his wife had moved back into their house or whether she had agreed to take him back at all. In her heart she knew that his wife was probably the kind of person who would take him back, regardless of what he did. She had done it before.
         Checking her watch, she wondered whether it would be too late to call him or whether he would be at home already. Her hands were shaking so much that when she picked up the phone to dial his mobile, she misdialled and was connected to a female automated message. She dialled his home phone number but nobody picked up the phone. Damn! she cursed, where the hell are you when I need you? She began crying tears of desperation but wiped them quickly and served the boys their dinner. For a change, she allowed them to sit at the dining table and continue to watch the television, rather than the usual ‘Telly off, eat in the kitchen’ routine.
         Dialling his mobile number more carefully this time, she was at last connected to his phone.
          ‘Adam Golding’ he said. She wondered why he put on such a business-like voice; he should recognise her number and know that it was her.
          ‘It’s me’ she said.
          ‘Oh hello, how are you?’
          ‘I am shit!’ she said and started sobbing, surrendering to her emotions rather than attempting to fight them.
          ‘Why? What’s the matter?’ Lucy just sobbed in response.
          ‘Hang on, let me pull over and call you straight back, all right?’
          ‘OK’, she croaked.
          ‘Adam, I am pregnant’ she said when he rang her back; she had managed to regain a large enough amount of composure. Her announcement was met with stony silence.
          ‘Are you still there?’ she whispered.
          ‘Yeah… When did you find out?’
          ‘Just now. I hadn’t been feeling well these past few days but I put it down to nerves, you know, the presentation’. She paused, trying to order her thoughts. ‘For some reason, the penny dropped when I was driving home so I bought a test kit… and it’s positive.’
          ‘Oh my god’ he said quietly. ‘Are you OK?’
          ‘No of course I am not bloody OK, this is the worst thing that could happen right now!’ Her sense of desperation was profound and she wanted him to argue the point and declare that no, it wasn’t a bad thing at all and that he would be straight over. She longed for him to hold her close and tell her that everything would be all right.
          ‘Have you told anybody else?’
          ‘No’.
         After a long pause during which Lucy blew her nose several times, he asked ‘What are you going to do?’
         She had been pacing the upstairs rooms with the cordless phone in her hand and now sat down on the top of the stairs. She wanted to ask him, Don’t you mean, what are we going to do? ‘I don’t know, Adam. I haven’t even had time to allow it to sink in…. It depends on you, though, doesn’t it?’
          ‘Why does it depend on me?’
          ‘Because I can’t have this baby on my own, Adam.’
         She heard him sighing down the phone. He paused, then said ‘Margie moved back in last weekend, we’re back together. So the decision is yours, Lucy’.
         She could not believe how cold he sounded. She could also not believe how quick he had been off the mark in moving his wife back into their home. Only two weeks earlier he had sobbed in her arms, telling her she was the love of his life and only the day before that, he had told her that he wanted to be with her for good. It was beyond her how his feelings, his loyalties, his so-called love could be so fickle.
         The previous weeks she had tried hard to get on with things and to get used to the idea of a life spent without Adam; this new situation, as far as she was concerned, changed the status quo. To her, it cancelled out decisions, promises, declarations made; all that mattered to her was Adam and the welfare of the child that she was carrying. His child.
          ‘Is there anything I can do?’
         She held the receiver away from her, uncontrollable sobs washing over her. Worried the twins would hear her she got up and walked to her bedroom, closing the door behind her.
          ‘Are you still there?’ he asked.
          ‘Yes’ she replied, sniffing, trying to force herself to think straight. She didn’t want to beg him, didn’t want him to think that this was a ploy or a scheme but she did want him to understand how she felt, how this must mean a complete rethink and re-shift of priorities.
          ‘Adam, please, tell me how do you feel about this?’
          ‘About the baby? Pretty crap, to be honest. It’s not good news, is it?’ This conversation was not taking the desired direction, and Lucy felt her body tensioning with despair and a growing sense of rejection. Not only was she herself being rejected by the man who thought of her, or at least had once thought of her, as the love of his life; her baby was also being rejected and the pain was unbearable. She had to talk to Grace, she would know what to do, find a way out of this. If there was such a way.
          ‘But Adam, surely this changes everything?’
          ‘No….’
          ‘I’ve got to call Grace’ she cried. His continued rejection was too much to bear.
          ‘Hang on a moment’ he said and after a long pause, simply said ‘look after yourself, all right?’
          ‘Yeah’ she whispered and disconnected the call. The complete disbelief at Adams reaction stunned her. She hadn’t really expected him to rush over and, as if by magic, everything would be a walk in the park from then on, but she had hoped that this would be the case. Had hoped that in the last two weeks he had missed her as much as she had missed him; it was obvious now that he had not. He had been too busy convincing his wife to move back in with him. She could picture him, on his knees, begging for forgiveness and pledging transformation. He’d have to have told his wife that she, Lucy, didn’t mean anything to him and that it had all been a big mistake. Realising all of this wouldn’t hurt half as much if she didn’t know otherwise, and if she didn’t also know that Adam didn’t go back to his wife because he loved her but because he couldn’t bear to be away from Mark.

         Grace didn’t pick up the phone. Hands still shaking, but trying to gain some control at least over her voice, she dialled Mandy’s mobile phone.
          ‘Hi Hon!’ She exclaimed as soon as she picked up the phone, realising it was Lucy on the other end. ‘I was just about to call you. How did your presentation go?’
         Lucy paused, fighting back tears. ‘Mandy, can you come over… Please? I need to talk to you.’
         Realising something terrible must have happened she said, ‘Luce, what’s the matter? No wait, let me call Mike to tell him I won’t be home yet. I’ll come over straight away, all right. Hang on in there, girl’.
         Mandy didn’t bother ringing the doorbell when she arrived at Lucy’s house; she simply entered by the backdoor near the garage and found Lucy sitting at the kitchen table. Unusually, the place was not tidy, the table was strewn with used tissues and her friend looked a true mess. Her face, stricken with despair, was swollen from weeping.
          ‘What’s up, Hon?’ she asked as Lucy got up and they embraced in a long, warm hug. Lucy couldn’t speak, couldn’t get the words out.
          ‘Sit down. Do you want something? A cuppa tea?’
          ‘This isn’t something the classic British remedy of a cup of milky tea can sort out, I am afraid.’
         Mandy headed for the fridge. ‘All right, what else have you got? A can of Fosters?’ Lucy shook her head.
          ‘No but there’s a bottle of brandy in the drinks cabinet in the lounge… If you don’t mind.’
         Mandy poured each of them an inch of the chosen drink and said, ‘Now, what’s happened?’
          ‘I am pregnant.’
          ‘Oh my God…’ she watched her friend breaking into tears once more, then got up and put her arms around her. ‘I don’t know what to say. Have you spoken to Adam?’
         Lucy nodded, blowing her nose. Mandy sat back down, pulled her chair closer to Lucy so she could hold her hand, a gesture of comfort which she felt certain didn’t come anywhere close to consoling her.
          ‘What did he say?’
          ‘Let’s just say it wasn’t quite the response I expected. He doesn’t want to know.’
          ‘What do you mean, doesn’t want to know? It’s his baby. You can’t just turn your back on a responsibility like that!’ The passion behind her words was fierce.
          ‘I’m not sure it’s as easy as that. He has responsibilities already, to Mark and Olivia. And to his wife. That’s the choice he’s made. Who am I to come crashing along and try and change all of that.’
          ‘Don’t you bloody defend him, girl!’
          ‘I am not defending…’
          ‘You bloody well are! He’s got no right to do this. Tell me exactly what he said.’
          ‘He said he felt pretty crap about the baby, that it isn’t good news.’
          ‘Oh my gosh, Lucy, I am so, so sorry. I shouldn’t have shouted at you. But can’t you see how unacceptable this is?’
          ‘It’s gut-wrenching, yes. I can’t believe his reaction, I am stunned. But unacceptable, I am not so sure. We had split up, remember. He had made his decision already.’
          ‘Yes, but this changes everything! I mean, come on, time to wake up and smell the coffee. Did he not admit he was going back for his kids, not his wife?’
          ‘Yes he did.’
          ‘And did he not also want to have a family with you, wasn’t he positively keen?’
          ‘Yeah’ Lucy looked down at her shaking hands. She couldn’t look at her friend.
          ‘And you are the love of his life?’
          ‘So he says’ Lucy replied after a long pause.
          ‘Well, there you go then. Perhaps he just needs to adjust to the news. Maybe it was a knee-jerk, panic reaction. You will probably hear from him tomorrow morning, when he’s had time to sleep on it.’

         His company car parked in a lay-by, Adam looked down at his mobile phone in disbelief. Never in a million years had he thought of this turn of events. Hearing Lucy crying those desperate sobs had broken his heart but he had to be firm. His decision to put his marriage back on track was made and it couldn’t be un-made. Things had gone too far, too much had been said, too many promises made. Still, that didn’t mean he didn’t wish things were different. His love for Lucy was no different from how it had been, he loved her with a passion he did not know he had in him until he met her; somehow she brought out that side to him and he liked the person he was with when he was with her. He tried to imagine what Lucy must be going through and found himself once again moved to tears by more than just his love for this woman but also by his complete sense of hopelessness. He dried his eyes and drove home, knowing he could never tell Margie.