Thinking of You (24 page)

The last time Carla had seen Tess Whelan she had felt incredibly sorry for her. It had been four weeks ago and Tess, then nine months pregnant, was lumbering around her house like an exhausted elephant. As she'd made a pot of tea and flicked through the color brochures of conservatories, she had been massaging her aching back, complaining good-naturedly about not being able to paint her toenails, and giving Carla… well, far too much information, frankly, about practice contractions, piles, and the need to visit the loo roughly every twenty minutes because the baby's head was pressing down on her bladder.

What's more, Tess had been wearing a hideous T-shirt stretched over her grotesquely swollen belly and elastic-waisted trousers. She might have been pretty once but now she just looked knackered. Carla, feigning sympathy but inwardly repulsed, hadn't been able to get out of the house fast enough.

She hadn't been much looking forward to coming back again either. If Tess Whelan had been a wreck before giving birth, God only knew what she'd look like now with a wailing, puking baby in tow.

And if the house smelled of poo she was going to be in and out of there in ten minutes flat. Tops.

“Hi there! Lovely to see you again. Come on through.”

Carla's jaw dropped open at the sight of Tess. Her blond hair was shining, her face glowed, and she was wearing size six jeans and a lacy pink cropped top.

“Good grief, what happened to your stomach?”

Tess grinned and patted her flat abdomen. “I know, isn't it great? Like a miracle. All thanks to breastfeeding, my health visitor tells me. And I'm eating like a horse but somehow everything just snapped back into place. Come on through and meet Alfie.”

Carla was stunned. Tess's figure was fabulous, both front and back. The house didn't smell of poo either, which was a bonus. “So how's it going?” she asked as she followed Tess through to the living room.

“Fantastic. So much easier than I'd been expecting. You hear all these nightmare stories about having babies, don't you? But Alfie's so good, he's an absolute angel. I've never been happier.” Tess paused then said, “To be honest, I was never the maternal type. Babies didn't interest me. But my husband was so keen I kind of felt obliged to go through with it. And now Alfie's here, I'd just die for him. I can't imagine life without him. He means the world to me, makes my life complete.”

That's how I feel about Perry, Carla thought smugly.

“And here he is!” Tess's face lit up with love and pride as she presented her son for inspection.

Carla gazed down at the baby, awake but silent, lying on a squashy blue and white beanbag. Alfie was wearing a tiny white T-shirt and a nappy. His dark eyes were watchful, his hair grew tuftily on top of his head, giving it a pointed appearance, and his miniature fingers clenched and unclenched as he steadily returned Carla's stare.

Oh God.

Oh
God…

“Are you all right?” said Tess anxiously.

“Fine,” Carla croaked. “Fine.” Then she said the four words she'd never said before in her life and had certainly never envisaged herself saying. “Um… can I hold him?”

It was extraordinary, an epiphany, beyond anything she'd ever experienced before. Tess bent down and picked up Alfie then tenderly kissed him before handing him over. Carla took him in her arms and felt as if… oh God, as if her life could at last become complete.

Not with Alfie obviously. He belonged to Tess. But with a baby of her own.

Hers and Perry's.

How could she ever have imagined she didn't want a child? Well, it clearly hadn't been the right time before now. And she hadn't met the right man.

Cradling Alfie, Carla bent her head and inhaled the blissful baby smell of him, an indescribable mixture of milk and warmth and newness. His skin was beyond soft, as soft and silky as the lining of a just-opened horse chestnut; she could happily have stroked it for hours. In truth Alfie wasn't the most beautiful baby in the world but when you looked at him and held him he made you think he was. When his tiny starfish hand closed around one of her own fingers, Carla wanted to explode with happiness.

This,
this
was what she wanted.

“Look at you.” Tess nodded approvingly. “You're a natural.”

“I've never held a baby before. Ever.” There was a catch in Carla's voice. “Never wanted to.”

“How old are you?”

“Thirty-six.”

Tess smiled. “Tick tock.”

“I didn't think I even had a biological clock,” said Carla, blinking back tears of happiness. “I still can't believe this is happening to me. I feel as if I've just discovered the meaning of life.”

And she didn't care if that sounded ridiculously sentimental. It was
true
.

***

“You what?” Perry started to laugh.

“I want a baby.” It was like finding God, as pure and as simple as that. Carla had barely been able to concentrate earlier on closing the deal for the Whelans' new conservatory but somehow she'd managed it. Turning up at Perry's shop afterward, she had persuaded him to come for a walk with her along the beach.

“This is a joke, right?” He stopped and tilted his head to one side.

“It's not a joke.”

“But you hate kids. You told me that. You said you'd never wanted children of your own.”

“I know I did. But I was wrong.” Carla couldn't contain her happiness, her certainty. “My body
told
me I didn't want them, because I hadn't met the right man. But now I have.” She reached for Perry's hand, which had slipped out of hers. “And I want one more than anything, with you. Isn't it incredible? We'll be even
happier
… you won't have to miss out after all.”

He looked genuinely flummoxed. “Miss out on what?”

“Having children! Oh, you were fantastic before, not saying anything.” Carla shook her head, moved by his generosity. When she had explained—on that first momentous night, in fact—that she was anti-babies, Perry had accepted the news without an argument. It hadn't affected how he felt about her, thank God, although of course he must have been dismayed deep down. But that was a
coup de foudre
for you, Carla now realized. You took the rough with the smooth and it didn't make an iota of difference. If Perry had told her that if she wanted to be with him, she'd have to move to Iceland and live with him in an igloo, she would have accepted that too. Because so long as they were together, nothing else mattered,
nothing
—

“Hello? Earth to Carla? What makes you think I want children? Did I ever say I did?” Shaking his head in disbelief, Perry gazed at her as if… well, as if she'd just grown a pair of antlers. “I can't stand bloody kids. I was delighted when you told me you didn't want any yourself. As far as I was concerned, it was the icing on the cake.”

“But that was before today. I've changed my mind,” Carla said urgently, “and so will you. Perry, this is so
right
. We love each other. It'll be perfect.”

“I promise you, it won't.”

Adrenaline was racing through her body. It was a blow, but she was a star saleswoman; she could win him around. Men often panicked at the prospect of fatherhood, but they succumbed in the end.

“If you hated the idea that much, you'd have had a vasectomy.” Carla's tone was almost playful.

“Jesus. If there's one thing worse than babies, it's the thought of some quack advancing on my tackle with a scalpel.” Grimly Perry shook his head. “I've heard enough horror stories to put me off that idea for life. Anyway, if you were so sure you didn't want kids, why didn't you get yourself sterilized years ago?”

Carla was triumphant. “Because
obviously
my brain was telling me that one day I might change my mind! And it was right!”

Perry's smile was long gone. He gazed past her, out to sea, his left hand rubbing his chin. Gazing hungrily at him, at the golden bristles on his jaw and the glossy red-gold of his hair, Carla envisaged the baby they would have. She would be able to change his mind; this was a deal she could definitely close. Men just needed a bit of gentle persuasion sometimes, that was all.

“When did this happen?” Perry spoke abruptly as seagulls wheeled overhead and waves slid up the beach.

“Today. This afternoon. I went to this house and saw—”

“So you've still got your IUD in.”

Carla nodded, smiling slightly. Never one to hang around once her mind was made up, she'd already phoned her doctor and made an appointment for tomorrow morning to have it removed. She was thirty-six after all, with no time to lose. If she could have tugged it out herself this afternoon she would have done, but the thought had made her toes tie themselves in knots.

“Hear that?” said Perry.

She listened to the sound of a baby wailing, turned, and saw an overweight, exhausted woman pushing a buggy along the hard wet sand.

“Look at the state of her. Do you want to be like that?”

“I wouldn't be.” Carla was adamant.

“And that
noise
.” Perry registered pain, because the baby was puce in the face, howling and kicking out like a maddened cat.

“Babies cry.” Incredibly the sound of this one wasn't making her want to yank it out of the stroller and throw it into the sea. She wanted to rush over, pick it up,
comfort
it…

Actually, better not try that either. The mother weighed about three hundred pounds and looked as if she might pack a bit of a punch.

“Bloody hell, that's an ugly kid,” Perry snorted.

“We wouldn't have an ugly one.”

He looked at her, long and hard. Then he broke into a smile. “What are you trying to do to me?”

“Nothing horrible, I promise. Just show you how much I love you.” Carla wound her arms round his waist, held him tightly. “It's the right thing to do, I promise you. You won't regret it.”

Then Perry kissed her and she melted, almost feverish with longing for him. If the beach had been empty, she would have pulled him down onto the sand and ravished him there and then. But there were tourists all around, dogs bouncing in and out of the surf, teenagers playing football, and toddlers picking up shells.

“Shameless hussy,” Perry murmured into her ear as she pressed herself against him.

“I can't help it.” Carla's body was on fire, her breathing rapid. Prospective motherhood was turning out to be quite an aphrodisiac.

“Doesn't look like you can. I don't know; what am I going to do with you?” Amused, he turned her toward the stone steps leading up off the beach. “If we don't want to be arrested, I think we'd better get back to the flat.”

 

“Finn, what's going on?” Evie demanded when Finn appeared in the restaurant on Friday lunchtime.

“Me? I've spent the morning selling antiques.”

“Don't give me that. You know what I'm talking about.” Evie, who wasn't in awe of Finn, asked the questions no one else dared to ask. Ginny, polishing glasses behind the bar, watched the look of annoyance on his face.

“It's none of your business what's going on.”

“But are you
crazy
? Tamsin messed up your life last year and now she's back. Does that mean you're going to let her do it all over again?”

It was early; none of the diners had arrived yet. Finn, clearly not in the sunniest of moods, squared up to Evie. “I don't have to explain myself to you. I'm an adult capable of making my own decisions.”

“And trust me, you're making a bad one,” she shot back.

“OK, just listen to me. When you had Philippa, how would you have felt if someone had come along when she was four months old and taken her away from you? Announced that you'd never see her again? Would you have handed your daughter over and forgotten her? Stopped loving her? Simply put her out of your mind because that was it, she was no longer a part of your life?”

Evie's eyes flashed. “No, but Mae isn't your child.”

“I thought she was.” Finn's voice was even. “She could have been mine. Plenty of men bring up other people's children and love them as much as if they were their own.”

“So that's what you're going to do, is it? Never mind that Tamsin cheated on you and brazenly passed Mae off as yours,
then
buggered off with Mr. I'm-a-Billionaire without even telling you she was going. You've just forgiven her for that, have you? You're letting her get away with it scot-free? Well, how very
handy
for her!”

Ginny felt sick, but she couldn't stop listening, couldn't even escape to the safety of the kitchen because Finn was blocking her exit route. He was really pissed off now, a muscle going in his jaw as he gripped the bar. In fact now might not be the time to be thinking it, but he was actually looking incredibly sexy…

“Don't tell me how to live my life.”

“Why not?” Evie retorted. “Someone has to try and knock some sense into you. And God knows everyone else can see that what you're doing is wrong.” Gesturing toward Ginny, she said, “Can't we?”

Oh, for heaven's sake. Hastily Ginny said, “I don't want to get involved.”

“But you
should
.” Evie was adamant, on a complete roll now. “We all work together! We're friends, aren't we? That's what friends are for. Bloody hell, if I said I was having an affair with a seventeen-year-old boy who'd asked me to marry him and wanted me to lend him a hundred grand to pay off his gambling debts, would you two stand back and let me do it?”

“Right now? Like a shot,” said Finn.

“See? And now you're angry with me.” Changing tack, Evie said, “But you shouldn't be, because we're only saying all this because we care about you.”

Less of the
we
, Ginny thought in alarm.

“And I know you love Mae,” Evie went on, “but I don't believe you still love Tamsin. And that's no basis for a relationship. OK, Tamsin's a beautiful girl. She's sexy, I appreciate that. But fancying a glass of milk doesn't mean you have to buy the cow. If it's sex you're after, there are plenty of women around here who'd be only too happy to hop into your bed. I promise you, Finn, all you have to do is click your fingers and they'll be queuing up for a quick—
urk
.”

“Oooh!” Appearing in the restaurant doorway with Mae in her arms, Tamsin surveyed them with amusement. “All of a sudden there's an awkward silence. Should my ears be burning?” Then, as her gaze settled on Ginny, her smile broadened. “Except if they were, they couldn't possibly be redder than your face.”

Ginny wished she could sink down through the floor. It was the comment about not having to buy the cow that had done it. Finn, sensing her discomfort—or possibly feeling as if he were standing next to a furnace, on account of the heat emanating from her cheeks—said, “We were talking about work. Did you want something?”

“Just came to say good-bye.”

This pronouncement caused Evie's eyebrows to shoot up into her hairline, and Ginny's hopes to rise in similar fashion. Tamsin, swaying over to Finn, said cheerfully, “We're off into Portsilver to buy Mae some new clothes and have a play on the beach. Back by three, OK?” She proffered Mae for a kiss. “Say bye-bye.”

Beaming, Mae gave Finn a kiss on the cheek and said, “Ghaaaa.”

Finn softened and stroked her silky dark hair. “Ghaaaa to you too. Have fun.”

“Look at them.” Clearly reveling in the sight of Finn and Mae together, Tamsin said with pride, “Look at her face. She's crazy about him!”

Ginny swallowed disappointment and thought, me too.

***

To make up for the hour she'd taken off to go to the doctor's office, Carla had been forced to work until eight. Now she click-clacked her way down Hudson Street and stopped outside Perry's front door. Ringing the doorbell, she experienced a thrill of anticipation. If last night had been a night to remember, this evening was going to be even better.

And there were his footsteps on the stairs…

She was taken aback when the door opened to reveal Ally the dim Goth who worked in the shop.

“Hi, Perry's expecting me.”

Ally blinked at her through a curtain of dyed-black hair. “Yeah, he said you might drop round. Come on up then.”

It wasn't until they reached the living room that Carla realized there was definitely something not quite right going on here. For a start, there were disgusting incense candles smoldering in holders on the window sill. And there was a small mountain of assorted shopping bags stuffed with God knows what piled up on the sofa.

More to the point, there was no sign of Perry.

“Where is he?”

“Hmm? Oh, gone away.” Peering round the room, Ally said vaguely, “Hang on, it's around here somewhere.”

“Gone
away
?” Carla's stomach did an incredulous swallow dive. “Where?”

“No idea, he didn't say. Just told me he needed a break and put me in charge of the shop. Bloody long hours, but he said I could move in here while he's gone, so that makes up for it. Living with my mum's been doing my head in, you know?” Ally pulled a face, inviting sympathy, her blue lipsticked mouth turning down at the corners. “So I was well up for moving in here instead. Ah, here it is.” She found the envelope she'd been searching for amid a pile of clutter on the coffee table and handed it to Carla.

How could Perry have gone away? In the space of… what? Eleven hours? He'd been fine when she'd left here this morning. Carla ripped open the envelope, turning away from Ally and her curious magenta-lined eyes in order to read the note.

Carla,

I loved you but you've scared me. I don't want kids now and I never will. I'm going away for a while to think things through. Don't bother trying to phone me—I won't pick up. I thought you were my ideal woman but now it's all spoiled. Your spare clothes are in the bedroom—take them with you when you leave.

Sorry, not much good at this. In future I'd better stick to women who've had hysterectomies!

Best, Perry.

Carla crumpled the letter in her fist and squeezed until her knuckles clicked. Best, Perry.
Best, Perry.
Yesterday he'd loved her but now it was over, in the past, switched off like a tap.

“Everything all right?” Ally tipped the contents of one of the bags—a lurid tangle of socks and knickers—onto the floor.

“Fine. Couldn't be better.” Carla shoved the scrunched-up note into her bag and wondered if there was an extra-sharp knife in the kitchen drawer. Half of her wanted to slash her wrists but the other half—actually by far the bigger half—wanted to slash Perry's.

And maybe slice off another treasured appendage while she was about it.

If only she knew where he was.

Fury was uppermost but tears were threatening—which only made Carla more furious. Swallowing hard, she headed through to the bedroom and snatched up the pathetic pile of belongings he'd left for her to collect. One shirt, a spare pair of shoes, makeup remover pads, and a toothbrush. She stuffed them into her shoulder bag before checking quickly through Perry's wardrobe and chest of drawers. He'd taken most of his clothes. Bastard.

“Off now? See ya!” sang Ally when she returned to the living room.

“Right.” Carla nodded, feeling like a city employee sacked without warning and ordered to vacate the building. Jerkily, she said, “See ya.”

***

Midnight and the pain had well and truly kicked in. In both senses of the word. The removal of the IUD had left Carla with griping cramps, requiring extra-strong painkillers, a hot water bottle pressed to her stomach, and a stiff Scotch. But it was nothing compared with the awful, aching emptiness in her heart. She'd lost Perry Kennedy, the love of her life. She had no one to blame but herself. And she couldn't do anything about it, because unbearable though it was to imagine a future without him, she still wanted a baby. More than anything. It was like a compulsion, a force of nature that refused to be denied.

And come hell or high water, she would have one. Just not with the man she'd chosen to do it with.

Oh God, why did it have to hurt so much?

Carla's head jerked up at the sound of a car pulling into the road and slowing to a halt. Her heart lolloping like a landed fish, she flung aside the hot water bottle and leaped—ooch—out of bed. Maybe it was Perry, come to his senses, turning up to smother her in kisses and beg her forgiveness.

Well, if this were a film it might have been Perry doing just that. Except it wasn't. Lurking like a spy behind the protection of the drawn curtains, Carla peeped through the gap and saw that it was Ginny, back from her shift at Penhaligon's. Dry-eyed, too hollow with misery even to cry, Carla watched as she climbed out of the car. Disappointment mingled with regret, because if anyone could comfort her now it would be Ginny. Her best friend. Ex-best friend. The best friend whose man she had stolen.

She shrank back from the curtains as her ex-best friend swung around and looked up, almost as if sensing her presence. For a split second Carla longed to throw open the window and call out to her, to shout out that she was sorry and beg her to come over. Ironically, no one would understand how she felt better than Ginny. And she would console her, know just what to say to make her feel less wretched.

Except she knew she couldn't and it was too late anyway, Ginny had already disappeared into her house. The front door slammed behind her and the kitchen light came on. As Carla watched, she saw Ginny and Laurel chatting and laughing together in the kitchen. Who would have thought that Laurel could laugh? But she was doing it now.

I'm on my own, thought Carla, turning away and clutching her stomach as it was gripped by another spasm of pain. And it's all my own fault. Ginny's got a new best friend now.