A Close Connection (17 page)

He knew he had promised himself that there would be no more secrets between him and Nicola, but this time he would make an exception to that. He hoped that he might persuade his wife to put aside her very real fears and have a baby, but it would have to be her decision and he wasn’t going to put undue pressure on her.

If he was not meant to be a father then so be it. If Chrissie had had a baby then perhaps it had been adopted. Maybe there was a 14-year-old boy or girl – his child – living somewhere with someone else and he would never ever see it.

Chrissie had engineered this last meeting quite deliberately. She had planted that thought in his head – is it true or isn’t it? – just to make sure that he would never forget her.

But for his peace of mind he had to do just that.

A
UTUMN WAS TUMBLING
fast into winter, the days had shortened, storms had lashed the area, causing floods and severe wind damage, but mercifully their cottage and the trees along the banks of the river had escaped most of it.

And Nicola was pregnant.

Just. She had not yet told Matthew because she wanted to be a little further on before she did so. So far she had managed to contain the throwing-up to times when he was not around but it had not worked so well at work and Barbara had guessed – rightly this time – and offered her congratulations, although she was sworn to silence as yet. Damn it, she never meant to tell the woman before she told her husband but she could hardly deny it when she asked outright and she was being very considerate, bringing her a packet of ginger biscuits next day: Barbara’s remedy for morning sickness.

She would tell Gerry Gilbert in due time and of course it would be no surprise whatsoever to him for hadn’t he been willing a pregnancy on her for ages now? She could not keep the secret much longer from her mother, who was eyeing her up closely whenever she saw her, but Matthew should be the first to know.

How could she have ever thought that she did not want
children? She was amazed at how quick the turnaround had been. Already, with the baby the size of a bean, she was feeling protective towards it and with Matthew getting people in to work on the cottage things were looking up. She had finally admitted to herself that she had been behaving like a spoilt child, wanting to run before she could walk.

Matthew was right. She had to remember how she felt when she first set eyes on this cottage. It was not as bad as all that, for after all, hadn’t she fallen in love with it back then? She had to return to that feeling and start thinking of it again as the sweetest little cottage imaginable. They just needed to get through the winter and keep warm and when spring came they would be fine for a while longer and the spare room would make an adequate nursery when baby arrived in summer.

She was mellowing and becoming more like Paula every day. It was very worrying. She was nest-building already and she was barely properly pregnant yet. What on earth would she be like by the end of it when she was the size of an elephant?

Rare for her, she had a Saturday free and it promised to be a lazy day for both of them but, to her surprise, after breakfast – the smell of Matthew’s bacon sandwich nearly made her throw up – he suggested they take a trip out.

‘Where?’ She could not hide her astonishment for, on his day off, he was usually perfectly happy to lounge around doing nothing.

‘Just out. It’s lovely out there, we don’t want to be cooped in all day long.’

‘It’s cold out there,’ she said, thinking that for once it felt much cosier indoors. Despite her complaints, it was proving warmer here than she had first thought, the thick walls keeping the heat in; a huge pile of logs had just been delivered and, to top it all, she had finally got the hang of lighting the fire.

‘Wrap up, then,’ he said, determined, it would seem, to get her out and about. ‘Come on and we’ll stop off for lunch later.’

‘Where are we going?’ she asked but infuriatingly he would not say, setting off across the bridge and passing the ‘Welcome to Devon’ sign. Feeling a little grumbly because she had got ready far too quickly and was feeling a touch nauseous already, she had to admit that it was a glorious late-autumn day, the trees slow to lose their leaves and outdoing each other with the blaze of oranges, yellows, and reddish browns.

Already her mother was talking about Christmas plans, something she liked to organize well in advance, and it was arranged that she and Matthew would be going to them on Christmas Day and to Paula and Alan’s on Boxing Day. That suited her fine as she was never absolutely sure whether or not she might be called in to work, as the Christmas schedule was always subject to sudden change. Being readily available when required was a prerequisite for future promotion although, as of now, with maternity leave looming, that was becoming an ever-fainter possibility.

And just now she could not care less.

‘I don’t fancy a long walk if that’s what you have in mind,’ she said, noting that they were approaching walking country. ‘I hate surprises. You should know by now that whenever you surprise me I’m always wearing the wrong things. Look at my boots. They are not made for walking.’

He laughed. ‘Don’t worry. There’s no serious walking involved.’

‘I hope you’ve not booked lunch at somewhere too posh,’ she went on, getting more irritated by his obvious amusement. ‘Because I would never have worn this jacket if I’d known.’

Matthew slowed, indicated and turned right and she realized that they were going towards the village, the village where she had dragged him a couple of times to view Tall Trees. For God’s sake, she did not want to be reminded of it, not when she
was finally getting her head round living at the cottage.

They drove through the village and he drew to a halt, switched off the engine.

The For Sale board was still there, propped up beside the imposing gateway but this time there was something laid across it: an Under Offer sticker. Well, thanks a million for that. It would be some sodding London couple buying it as a second home, donning their country wellies a few weeks a year when they deigned to put in an appearance.

‘What have you brought me here for?’ She could not help the exasperation in her voice. ‘You know damned well we can’t afford it. You sat me down and talked me through the figures.’

‘It’s ours, darling,’ Matthew said. ‘We complete very soon. I made a very low offer but they accepted, delighted to have a sale at last and a cash one at that. I can’t have the keys yet but the agent is meeting us in a few minutes and she’s happy for us to have a look round without her. They’ve moved all the furniture out, by the way, so it’s not going to look quite the same as it did the first time we viewed it.’

‘But …’ she stepped out of the car and stood a moment gazing at it, the house she had dreamed of so often, the house they could not afford. It stood, an higgledy-piggledy stonebuilt house in grounds that wrapped round the property, and she could rhyme off the details in her head: square hall, sitting room with bay window, dining room across the hall, a large kitchen, study/music room, snug, conservatory, five bedrooms, three bathrooms. All this with a separate annexe in the former stable block that she had earmarked as having great potential for something or other.

Wow.

The agent was waiting for them by the entrance, her car parked round the back. She greeted them, all smiles, and handed them the keys, saying she would hang around until they were ready.

Matthew opened the door and she followed him into the echoey space. The previous owners were gone and it was empty, their footsteps loud on the tiles of the hall. It looked different without the rugs and the pictures and the ornate mirror but the red carpet on the stairs was still there and they had left the glamorous if slightly incongruous modern chandelier that was either a pièce de résistance or a disaster. She would have to reserve judgement on that.

‘I know,’ Matthew said, following her gaze. ‘Horrendous, isn’t it?’

‘Matthew, what on earth are you doing? How much did you offer? How can we afford it?’ she said, commonsense taking over. ‘We did the sums and we decided we couldn’t. And we haven’t sold the cottage either. And what’s this about a cash sale?’

‘Mum’s given us some money so we can do this,’ he told her. ‘I’ve gone through the sums and it’s OK. And I think she might have half an eye to her and Dad moving into the annexe one day. It will make a great self-contained granny flat and I can draw up the plans for that in no time. It’s already got the green light so there won’t be a problem.’

‘Wait a minute. You mean they might want to move in with us?’

‘Maybe. Someday. She’s had second thoughts about moving just at the moment. She likes her house. I know that might surprise you but she does. And Dad’s in no hurry to give up the business and it’s better for him to be living in the city to do that. The bulk of his business comes from students.’

The thought of Paula and Alan living in the annexe was not ideal but Nicola concentrated on the words ‘maybe’ and ‘someday’. She could live with that thought, for it was so far into the future it hardly counted. Paula and Alan were hardly in their dotage, not yet.

‘She’s been very generous,’ she said as the enormity of what
Paula had done started to sink in. She had thought Paula meant a few hundred not several thousand. ‘She said something last time I saw her about giving us something but I didn’t think you would be too keen on that.’

‘I wasn’t at first but she was very persuasive. What’s the point, she said, of you being left a load of money when we die when you need it now? You’re right, I would much rather do this ourselves but it’s going to be a very long time before we can afford to buy something like this and so we have to be realistic.’

‘You mean you have to swallow your pride,’ she said with a small smile. ‘Thanks for that, Matthew.’

‘Thank my mum. She’s really happy to do it.’

‘What about your father? You haven’t mentioned him.’

‘It was Mum’s idea that we have the money but he’s fine too. He wants us to have this house. He knows what it means to you and he told me that we should keep the ladies happy if we can.’

‘It’s still a lot of money and we shouldn’t take it from them.’ She was weaving her way through the rooms, decorating them already in her head. Five bedrooms were more than they needed but they could do them one at a time. Now that the dream was coming true, she was oddly more hesitant than Matthew. ‘Is Paula sure about this?’

‘Absolutely. She insists and have you noticed she’s got very bossy lately? I’ve been thinking about it and we can put the cottage up for sale again but rent it in the meantime.’

‘And we can be in here by Christmas. We can have Christmas here,’ she said, excitement taking over. ‘We can put the tree over there by the window and we can invite everybody here and I can cook a lovely Christmas lunch, if I’m not working, that is.’

‘Don’t get carried away. And we don’t do that much at Christmas, not my family. It’s not a good time for us so we don’t really celebrate.’

‘I know and I know why, but I think it’s time you did. We can try to make it as happy as we can. I know it was her birthday but Lucy wouldn’t have wanted you to be miserable, not at Christmas.’

‘You are right.’ He was just standing there, looking at her, delighted at her reaction as, unable to stop herself, she gave a little jig of excitement, her eyes shining.

A moment later, she flew over to him, her face buried a moment in his shoulder. ‘This is the best surprise ever. And by the way …’ Daft time to say it, but she could not wait a minute longer. ‘I’m pregnant.’

‘I thought so.’ He hugged her to him. ‘I wondered when you would get round to admitting it.’

Nicola had never met the old man, her grandfather-in-law, who had been indirectly responsible for giving her the house of her dreams and now, when it was too late, she wished she had met him because who knows, she, an outsider, might have gone some way towards sorting out their ridiculous feud. She knew they all felt guilty about taking Thomas Walker’s hard-earned money, but it was family money and it was their due.

Anyway, like Matthew, she had accepted Paula’s kind offer with as much humility as she could muster, visiting her and bringing her a big bunch of red roses as a small thank-you. ‘Come on in,’ Paula said, seeming genuinely pleased to see her, sniffing the roses and saying that she shouldn’t have.

‘Come in and sit down and I’ll put the kettle on. How are you, Nicola? Matthew tells me you are pregnant. Congratulations. We are very excited and your mother must be thrilled.’

‘She is. How are you, Paula? How are the driving lessons going?’

‘Very well. I’m a natural, the instructor says, although maybe he says that to everybody. I was a bit nervous at first.’

‘Of course you were. We are all nervous when we start
lessons. What does Alan say about it?’

‘To tell the truth, he wasn’t keen on the idea. He says the roads are too busy and he says that even if I pass I’ll have to have extra lessons before he lets me loose on the motorway.’

‘Ignore him,’ Nicola said. ‘I’m a much better driver than Matthew and you’ll be absolutely fine. I’m surprised at Alan. You would think he would be delighted that you’re finally taking the plunge.’

‘Well, he isn’t. I think he’d be delighted if I failed.’

‘Don’t be daft.’ Nicola saw the doubt in her eyes, though, and wondered just what was the matter with Alan. Surely he liked his new improved wife? However, she thought it wise not to pursue it further.

‘Are you missing work, Paula?’

‘No. Well, perhaps a bit, but the thing is I was offered a promotion before I left,’ she went on, looking around as if somebody was eavesdropping. ‘I had just made up my mind not to take it and was worried about how I would tell them so it was a relief when we got the money because then I could tell them to stuff the job. Well, not quite that, but it was a wonderful reason to leave.’

Nicola laughed. She had never heard Paula say anything remotely like that in all the time she had known her. But then, as her mother had said, having money had changed her. And definitely for the better. She had a sparkly look about her and it was nothing to do with the neat fitted dress she was wearing. She didn’t have it quite right, not yet, for the colour did her no favours, but she was getting there in the style stakes.

‘I don’t miss the card shop but I’m much too young to retire,’ she went on. ‘I need to take up a hobby of some kind before I start getting bored.’

‘Why don’t you? It’s a marvellous opportunity to do something you’ve always wanted to do. Travel. Learn Chinese. Start piano lessons.’

‘I don’t know about the travelling but I might take up quilting,’ Paula said thoughtfully and, exchanging a glance, they both laughed.

‘Don’t be too adventurous,’ Nicola warned her, still smiling. She was warming to Paula more and more. There was more to her mother-in-law than first thought and she was reminded that first impressions of people should always be taken with a pinch of salt.