Kitty

Chapter 7Moving Home

7

‘So, which do you think – the tartan sash or the veil? I think it would be too much to have both, as one draws attention from the other. Especially if your bouquet is, as you say, trailing, it might all be a bit too clashy.’

Kitty stared at the shop assistant, trying to feel the same level of enthusiasm for the task in hand. ‘I don’t really mind. Whatever you think.’

‘You don’t mind? That’s not an option! It can’t be up to me! You have to mind. It’s important! This is 1988 not 1888, and you are a young woman in control of your destiny. We even have a woman prime minister, you know!’ The assistant winked. ‘You can choose whatever pleases you!’

‘Is it really that important?’

‘Yes! Of course.’ The woman sucked her teeth and peered at Kitty from behind the horn-rimmed glasses that sat forward on her nose. ‘The way you look on your wedding day will be captured by the photographer and that image will sit on a dusty shelf for the rest of your life. Right now, at this very moment, you have the chance to determine whether you look at that picture every day and think, “Ooh, good choice, glad I went for the sash!” Or whether you curse at the sight of it and wish you’d gone for the more virginal veil. As I said, it is important.’

‘Excuse me.’ Suddenly and without too much warning, Kitty gathered up the skirts of her wedding gown and ran towards the back of the shop. Realising she wasn’t going to make it to the bathroom, she grabbed the umbrella stand that stood by the back door and bent her head into it, vomiting noisily as the room swayed around her.

The woman followed and stood behind her. The two were silent for a beat while Kitty spat, wiped her mouth and straightened, leaning on the doorframe for support.

‘We can always let the waistband out at a later date, if that is required?’ She folded her arms and stared at her knowingly.

*

Kitty left the doctor’s surgery and walked home with a feeling of dread in her stomach. She closed her eyes, wishing, praying, and still digesting what the doctor had confirmed. She was nearly ten weeks pregnant and would be getting married in another eight.

Pregnant! A baby! What the hell am I going to do? What am I going to say to Angus?

Kitty knew that she’d been at her most fertile when she’d slept with Theo. They’d had sex without protection, drunk and idiotically neglectful, living in the moment without heed of the consequences. By the time she and Angus had got round to having sex, it was in her safe time and, as ever, they’d used a sturdy condom and spermicide, just in case. There was very little doubt in her mind that this was Theo Montgomery’s baby. She closed her eyes and tried to calm her racing heart. Her mouth was dry and wave upon wave of sickness lapped at her gut. She was too shocked for tears, too afraid to think straight.

Maybe I can keep it a secret? Maybe I can let Angus think it’s his child and he might never find out.

She pictured Angus’s fair hair and slight frame compared to the muscled, swarthy Theo, whose hair was almost black and whose eyes were dark. The two men were polar opposites, and with her fair colouring there was no way she could conceal the physical truth, even if the idea wasn’t morally repugnant.

You have to tell him the truth. You have to! It wouldn’t be fair. Give him the facts and let him make the decision. Oh my God.

For someone who rarely prayed, she certainly reached out to God, knowing that what she needed right then was indeed a bloody miracle.

Her thoughts raged. How was she going to tell him? What was she going to say? What would his pious parents think? She tried to imagine the exchange, saw him calling off the wedding and throwing her out of the flat they shared. Her stomach bunched and again sickness filled her mouth. She bent forward over the kerb, resting on a bin as she was sick over a drain.

‘Hair of the dog, love! Best thing!’ a man called from a passing white van. He and his passenger chuckled.

Somehow, she managed to make it home without a repeat performance. The phone in the hallway was ringing as she let herself in.

‘Hello, darling!’ Her dad’s cheery tone was almost more than she could stand.

‘Hi, Dad.’

‘Hey now, what’s up? Are you crying?’ he asked softly.

She swallowed and placed her hand on her stomach. ‘A bit.’

‘Well, whatever it is, I’m sure there’s no need for tears. Some pre-wedding jitters maybe?’

‘Maybe,’ she managed.

There was a beat or two of silence while her dad let her sob.

‘I hate to hear you so sad, Kitty. Has Angus upset you? Because if he has…’

She took a morsel of comfort from his rising, angry tone, knowing he would always leap to her defence if necessary. ‘No, he’s fine. It’s…’

‘It’s what, darling?’ he coaxed. ‘You know what Marjorie says: a problem shared is a problem halved. What can I do to make it better?’

‘Nothing, Dad. Not this time.’

‘Goodness me, it sounds fatal! What is it, Kitty?’

‘I haven’t told anyone, but…’ She wiped the back of her hand over her nose and eyes. ‘Oh, Dad…’

‘Kitty Montrose, you are scaring me now.’ He spoke a little sternly. ‘Do I have to saddle up the Land Rover and drive all the way down to London or are you going to talk to me? Come on, darling, nothing is that bad.’

‘I think… I think I might be pregnant.’

She heard her father’s sharp intake of breath and closed her eyes, feeling the blush spread across her face. It was hard enough to be confessing to her adored dad that she’d even had sex, though he was well aware that she and Angus were living together. This was definitely not the time to be telling him the full story. She’d already decided to tell no one but Angus about Theo, thinking of the other proverb that Marjorie was fond of – ‘Least said, soonest mended.’ No matter what the outcome, it would mean that Angus could save face, be in control. She owed him that much, and more besides. She pictured Theo propping his head against the pillow on his bed. ‘I thought we might get some supper…?’

‘Wow, Kitty.’ Her dad took another deep breath. ‘I don’t know what to say.’

Me either, Dad. Me either.

‘What does Angus think?’

‘I haven’t told him yet. I’m going to tell him tonight. I don’t want anyone to know.’

‘Well, no point until it’s confirmed.’

She felt the slip of tears over her cheek.

Her dad coughed. ‘I always think of you as my little girl – you always will be – and so this is going to take a bit of getting used to. But it might be wonderful. In fact, no “might” – it will be wonderful!’ She could tell by the shape of his words that he was smiling.

‘I know,’ she whispered. ‘It might.’

‘Are you well, Kitty? Do you need anything at all?’

‘No, Dad.’

‘I’m glad you can talk to me. It means the world. And you know, Kitty, there are many journeys that end somewhere glorious, but they don’t always start that way. Try to look towards the future. This might not be the timing you would have hoped for, but it’s a gift nonetheless. Having you has been the single best thing that happened to your mum and me.’

Kitty bowed her head and let her tears fall; she was having trouble seeing beyond the end of the evening, let alone the future. ‘I don’t want you to tell anyone, not until I know what’s what.’ This was as clear as she could make it without giving specifics.

‘I understand. It’s your news to tell, not mine. Plus Mum has been a little quiet – nothing to worry about, but I don’t want to overload her.’

‘Is she okay?’ Kitty felt the leap of fear in her throat. The worry over her mum’s mental health was never any less than a heartbeat away.

‘She is. I’m keeping an eye on her, you know…’

‘I do.’

He cleared his throat again. ‘I love you, Kitty Montrose. Always have, always will and I am proud of you. You know that, don’t you?’ His voice cracked.

She nodded. ‘I love you too, Dad.’

*

A few hours later, she heard Angus tread the stairs of the flat and pause in the hallway, no doubt to hang up his coat and deposit his keys on the half-moon table that housed the telephone and a wire tray for post.

‘Kitty?’

‘In here,’ she called, from the tiny sitting room where she sat with her legs curled beneath her in the glow of the table lamp.

He rushed in and flopped down onto the other end of the sofa, leaning back on the cushions and stretching his legs out in front of him as he loosened his tie. ‘Am I glad this day is over! I’ve been speaking to arseholes all day who don’t want to listen… Anyway, enough of work. What do you fancy for supper? Shall we cook something? Or would you like noodles – I don’t mind picking them up?’ He twisted his head to look at her. ‘Oh God, what’s the matter? Have you been crying?’ He sat up and turned to face her.

She nodded.

‘What’s up?’

‘I… I need to talk to you, Angus—’

‘Talk away!’ he said, interrupting her. ‘Nothing’s worth tears, though – we have so much to look forward to.’ He patted her leg. ‘I got the engraved cufflinks back today for Ruraigh, Hamish and both dads, and they look brilliant.’

‘I can’t talk about that right now. I… need you to listen to me, Angus. I need you to let me talk and concentrate… and then we can discuss it, but… but if you interrupt me, I might not ever finish, okay?’ Nerves caused the words to stutter in her throat and she fought the desire to vomit.

‘You’re scaring me a bit, to be honest.’ He gave a small, nervous laugh.

‘Please, Angus, can you just let me talk?’

He nodded and folded his arms across his chest, as if this might help contain any errant words that might emerge.

‘I went to the doctor’s today…’

Angus’s eyes widened.

‘It’s okay, I’m not ill, not really, but I am pregnant.’ She whispered this and held his gaze.

The colour drained from his cheeks. ‘Jesus!’ He placed his hand over his mouth and breathed through his fingers. ‘Pregnant? Are you sure?’

‘Yes.’ She nodded.

‘But… but we’ve always been so careful! Fuck!’ He leant forward and rested his elbows on his knees.

Kitty stared at him and tried to quash the feeling of disappointment in her gut. She knew there was more to be said, more words, facts and admissions that would cut him deeper, damage them further, but at some level she had hoped for a show of love from him, something that might make her feel like a baby would be welcomed into their lives. A wonderful thing.

‘I can’t believe it!’ He shook his head. ‘Jesus! How far are you?’

‘Ten weeks.’

He exhaled through bloated cheeks and looked skywards. ‘Ten weeks,’ he repeated. ‘Shit!’

‘Angus…’ She twisted her body until she could easily reach him and placed her hands on his arm. ‘Angus…’ She swallowed. ‘There’s something else.’

‘Not fucking twins?’ He half laughed, his eyes like saucers.

She shook her head. ‘No. No joking. I need to tell you.’

‘What?’ he urged, looking up at her, his face still pale and with beads of sweat on his top lip.

‘I did something terrible, something that I am ashamed of and something that I need to tell you, but I don’t know how. I’m scared, really scared of how you’ll react, but I know that I owe you the truth, and what you decide to do with that truth is up to you. I will understand and respect your decision, no matter what it is.’ Her tears came in gulping sobs and she struggled to get the words out.

‘Jesus, Kitty…’ He was almost breathless. ‘Just tell me! What else?’

*

It was now three weeks since that night and things were understandably still strained. Kitty walked softly around the flat, trying to be quiet and make herself invisible. Angus did the opposite, slamming doors and thumping countertops, as if his mission was to create noise and mayhem, as if trying outwardly to match the turmoil that raged inside. She would never forget the way he had laughed in the immediate aftermath of her confession, as if it were a horrible joke.

‘You are fucking kidding me, right?’

He had looked at her searchingly, like he was waiting for the punchline and she noted the slight tilt to his nose and the curl to his top lip, as if he was disgusted by her. It made her feel dirty. There was no discussion, no plans shared about dealing with the pregnancy. She didn’t know if the wedding was on or off; she didn’t know much. She lived in limbo, crying into her pillow each night, alone while Angus drowned his sorrows with Thomas and the boys, and she woke each day dogged by morning sickness that made her feel utterly miserable. What should have been the happiest time in her life turned out to be one of the very worst. Not that she had anyone to blame but herself.

What did you expect, Kitty? What did you really, honestly expect?

She and her dad talked a few times on the phone, but usually one of them was not in a position to chat, with either Angus, her mother or Marjorie lurking in the background. It made their conversations stilted, awkward and coded. She clung to his earlier observation that there were many journeys that ended somewhere glorious even when they hadn’t started that way. It helped.

She kept replaying the moment Angus had walked from the room in silence, his reaction unreadable, his fingers balled into white-knuckled fists, leaving her curled and miserable on the sofa to ponder her options. Time and again she imagined throwing her clothes into a weekend bag and jumping on the train home. The thought didn’t scare her; in fact, in the face of her loneliness, the idea of sitting in the library with her parents and Champ as a fire crackled in the grate and her belly grew was far from unpleasant.

Angus’s silent treatment, noisy crashing around and indifference towards her made her feel lost, alone and afraid. She talked to her baby at night, apologising for its less than auspicious start and promising that things would get better. The small kernel of life blossoming inside her was the single thing that brought her flashes of joy. She might or might not be getting married, Angus might no longer want her, and from the way her dad had mentioned her mum’s tiredness, it might even be that her mother’s mental health was once again on the slide, but as she laid her palm on her stomach in the dark of night, she felt the pulse of life and smiled.

My baby, my child, my little one… The baby I made with Theo, my friend.

And then one afternoon, just after she’d managed to stall the caterers, who’d called to confirm numbers for the evening reception, Angus arrived home with what could best be described as a spring in his step. His upright posture, sprightly demeanour and wide smile were almost as unnerving as the latent anger that had simmered over the last few weeks. This was altogether less predictable and therefore more chilling. A shiver ran through her.

‘Okay.’ He pulled out a chair at the kitchen table and sat opposite her. ‘This is how I see it.’

She joined her knuckles on the tabletop to steady their tremble while she awaited her fate.

‘This has damaged us, but I love you.’ He said this matter-of-factly, but it was no less reassuring for that.

Tears pricked Kitty’s eyes. ‘I love you too.’ Her voice was hoarse with relief. ‘I do, Angus. I love you too.’

‘We’re young, but we work well together. We’ve always worked, Kitty.’ He gave a tight-lipped smile.

‘We do.’

‘You messed up.’

‘I know. I know!’ She nodded. ‘And I’m so sorry. I am so, so sorry!’

‘I’ve thought about it day and night, I’ve sought advice from Thomas and others…’

Kitty was glad he’d been able to confide in his friends. She wished that she’d had her own confidante over the last few weeks.

‘And I don’t want to throw away what we have, Kitty. I’ve weighed up the pros and cons, looked at how we live and how we want to live. And this situation is not insurmountable. At least I don’t think it is.’

She nodded, willing to say and do just about anything to preserve the future for herself and her child. It felt like she was being given a second chance and she was overwhelmed with gratitude.

‘I mean, Christ, which of us is without a secret part of our soul!’ He sighed.

She nodded again, not sure what he meant but in no position to enquire further.

‘I have conditions.’ He drummed the table.

‘Of course.’

‘I don’t know if it needs stating, but if you so much at look at another man, that will be it. Literally. It’s not about the sex so much as the lying, the deceit. I don’t want to live like that. I can’t.’

‘I don’t want to live like that either!’

‘If it happened again, we’d be divorced before you’d finished mumbling a confession. I can give you the benefit of the doubt, Kitty, but I won’t be made a fool of.’

‘I wouldn’t do that to you, Angus. It was one mistake, one stupid, drunken—’

‘All right!’ He raised his palm. ‘We don’t need to go over it again. I want you to have nothing to do with Montgomery. Nothing at all. That’s a given.’

‘I promise.’

‘I also think it only fair that we tell the child. The thought of having this hanging over us, of us continually waiting and wondering if and when it might be revealed, would feel like a sentence, and the idea of him or her growing up duped and suspicious is even worse. Everyone needs a clear identity. It’s important. So if we are going to do this, we do it openly and then it won’t be an issue. We head it off. There’s no need to go completely public, but within our immediate family circle there should be no shame. No secrets.’

Kitty looked up at Angus with gratitude. He was displaying more maturity, sense and forgiveness than she had any right to expect. That he was so concerned for the child’s welfare was quite overwhelming.

‘No shame. No secrets.’ She allowed herself the beginnings of a smile. ‘Thank you, Angus. It will all be okay, won’t it?’

‘Yes.’ He nodded and placed his hand over the back of hers. ‘It will all be okay.’

*

The following morning, Kitty sat at the table in the kitchen and tapped the fountain pen on her cheek. It was a hard letter to write, the hardest. But she had to do it. Wanted to. Angus was giving her the chance of stability and Kitty knew from looking at her own parents’ situation that forgiveness and stability were the things that got you through the darkest of hours. She carried with her the fear that one day her sadness might slip over a line and become something else entirely; that she might end up like her mum. It would be the steadfast, predictable life she had with Angus that would get her through that. She flipped open the top sheet of the Basildon Bond notepad and gripped the pen, liking the flourish of blue ink on the paper.

My dearest friend, Theo.

She scratched through and tore off the sheet, starting again.

Oh ,Theo, this is a hard, hard letter for me to write.

And again.

Theo, I am so scared, so nervous, but feel I owe you at least this.

Finally, she settled into the writing and tried not to overthink the words. With a racing heart, she watched the fountain pen dance across the page.

Hello Theo,

I hope you’re still at this flat. I have thought long and hard about whether to write and what to write, so here goes.

It was an unexpectedly joyful day when I last saw you. It was a day of escape and I want you to know that I have never done anything similar before or since. I hope you believe me when I tell you that it was special for me. I know how that reads and we both know that alcohol was the catalyst, but there are very few people on earth I trust in the way I trust you, Theo.

Theo, oh Theo…

I’m pregnant.

I can only imagine what it’s like for you to read these words. Perhaps it feels the same as it did for me when I found out.

I thought you deserved to know. It is yours. I want to keep this baby and I’m still figuring out how to make it all work. The one thing I do know is that this is not the path for us, for you and me. We are not those people. I’m marrying Angus soon, in a few weeks, and he is aware. It’s been horrendously difficult for us both. For this reason, I think it only fair that we have no further contact. If our paths should ever cross, please respect my wish for us to never mention this. I beg you, Theo. This is the only way I can build a life. Please.

I say goodbye now.

Your friend,

Kitty X

She placed her head in her hands and sobbed, picturing the handsome, sensitive man who had recited poetry to her across the tabletop and who had taken her on the most delicious physical journey. But she didn’t really know Theo; their history wasn’t enough to justify throwing away the chance of happiness that she had with Angus, who had done something quite wonderful and forgiven her.

Kitty dried her eyes and placed her hand on her stomach. It was time to put thoughts of Theo Montgomery out of her head and concentrate on making a success of her life with the man she had been with since she was young.

That was it: no shame, no secrets.

*

‘So, are you nervous?’ Hamish asked as he pulled the Land Rover off the motorway.

Coincidentally, Kitty felt a rush of butterflies. ‘I don’t know.’

He laughed. ‘How can you not know?’

She turned in her seat to face her cousin, who had kindly offered to drive her up to Darraghfield from London. They were well practised at travelling this route, as ever stopping only a couple of times for coffee and food and to take a quick nap in their seats. Angus was driving up separately, with Thomas, his best man, and Ruraigh was going up by train with Tizz, for which Kitty was thankful. The rift between her and Ruraigh, though healed on the surface, had left a deep scar that needed more time to knit. He was as cool about the wedding as he had been over their engagement and it maddened her. Gone was the easiness between them and in its place a new wariness, invisible to others but glaringly obvious to her. It bothered her that her dad might get wind of it; he had enough on his plate and would be hurt to think they were anything other than the best of friends.

She looked over at Hamish. ‘I don’t know if what I’m feeling is wedding nerves or general excitement or morning sickness. I keep thinking of all those people looking at me and I feel a bit sick about that, and I’m worried about Mum, of course…’ She knew she didn’t need to elaborate. It was, however, a wonderful relief to have her pregnancy out in the open, to be able to discuss it without fear or embarrassment. She had told them all that the baby was Theo’s, with the final message being that if she and Angus could handle the fact with grace and tact, then so could they. As Angus had predicted, once everyone knew, the whole situation felt far easier to bear.

She’d still found it difficult to tell her father, though, embarrassed to have to inform him that the daughter he adored had well and truly fallen off her pedestal. Despite the challenges in their own marriage, she knew that her parents would never so much as contemplate being unfaithful; it was just something they would never do. But when it came to it, her dad had been characteristically generous and non-judgemental, talking only about how he couldn’t wait to meet his grandchild and what a super mum Kitty would be, helping her to navigate the situation in the way he knew how. Kitty had never loved him more.

Angus’s mum, however, had not taken it well. Angus had broken the news over the phone, and Kitty had listened through the kitchen wall. ‘Who cares what Reverend Smithson thinks, Mum?’ he’d said tersely into the handset. ‘It’s none of his business anyway.’ Kitty’s face had flushed a deep red; though Angus rarely saw his parents, he was touchingly concerned about making them proud of him, and now she’d been responsible for tarnishing their son’s image. There wasn’t Tupperware box big enough to contain that sort of faux pas.

Hamish kept his eyes on the road but gave a small nod. ‘Well, you will look just fine, and Fenella is doing great. Uncle Stephen will be right by her side and he’ll not let her struggle, wedding or no wedding. As for that baby, it doesn’t know that today or tomorrow is different to any other, so you can just let him be.’

‘Or her.’ She smiled and rubbed the small, welcome roundness to her belly. She and Angus were steady. They both agreed that this baby when it arrived would be loved and would love them in return and that was all that mattered. She was so thankful, ignoring the uncomfortable thought that niggled at her in the early hours, that she was somehow beholden to her fiancé, that his benevolence might come at a cost.

‘I reckon it’s a boy.’ Hamish grinned. ‘I have big plans afoot for a miniature rugby kit. With enough coaching, we could end up with a future Gavin Hastings on our hands.’

She laughed, happy that her cousin was taking such an interest in her child. ‘I do love Angus.’ She felt a wave of something close to relief that this day was happening at all.

‘Well, that’s a good job!’ He chuckled.

‘I love him, but I don’t know how well I know him – does that make any sense? Even after all this time. Sometimes—’

‘Sometimes what?’

‘I don’t know… I suppose sometimes I feel a bit like he’s holding back, and I don’t want him to, I want him to be himself completely with me.’

Hamish took his time answering. ‘Well, even though you’ve been a couple for ever, you’ve only been together as grown-ups for a wee while and I guess you’re both still getting to know yourselves as well as each other. But that’s okay, Kitty. The three of you will all grow up together. You have all the time in the world to get to know each other. As a couple, you’ve already had to face more challenges than most.’ He glanced at her stomach. ‘And I have known you my whole life and I know that he can only discover how great you are.’

‘Jesus Christ, Hamish, what is wrong with you? This isn’t another tearful moment, is it?’ She shrieked her laughter, hiding the emotion that flared within.

‘I cried once! Once! And who didn’t cry at Kramer Vs Kramer ? Are you ever going to let me forget it?’

‘No, probably not. I love you, even if you are a big softy.’

Hamish tutted and looked out at the road ahead. He punched the radio on and the strains of ‘Cracklin’ Rosie’ filled the car. Far better they sing along than give in to that emotional, mushy stuff they were so bad at.

*

The house and grounds looked beautiful, lovelier than she had ever seen them. Patrick and her dad had worked hard and the gardens were as neat as a pin. The large terracotta planters, usually studded with the twigs of dead plants, were overflowing with variegated ivy and specially imported bright red geraniums. The front gates and iron fencing of Darraghfield had been give a new coat of glossy black paint and every window sparkled. Even the gravel had been raked and picked free of weeds.

Champ raced out to meet the car, barking his greeting.

‘Hello, boy! Hello, you!’ Kitty bent down on her haunches and let the dog sniff her hair as she petted his muzzle. ‘I bet you are wondering what all this fuss is about!’

‘Hamish!’ She looked up in time to see her dad wrap his beloved nephew in a warm hug. ‘Good journey, son?’

‘Not bad. She spoke the whole way – I’ve got earache!’ He jerked his head in her direction.

‘Let me look at you.’ Her dad walked forward and gave a small shake of his head. ‘My baby is having a baby. How is that even possible?’

‘I don’t know, Dad.’ Instinctively she placed her hand on her bump.

‘You look wonderful.’ He reached forward and kissed her tenderly on the forehead. She knew this was a gesture of understanding, an acceptance of her situation, and she was grateful for it.

‘Where’s Mum?’ She looked over her dad’s shoulder, half expecting her to pop up. She remembered coming up with Angus when they’d first got engaged and her mum standing in the garden, bossing everyone around. Kitty had loved it.

‘She went for a wee rest after lunch. We’ll give her a shout in a bit. She’s dying to see you.’ He winked, trying for jovial, but Kitty caught the slight twitch to his left eye. He never could lie to her.

‘Oh, here she is!’ Marjorie ambled from the house, moving her arms as if she was running, even though her feet were doing little more than a shuffle. It made them all chuckle.

‘Oh, a baby! A baby!’ Marjorie reached into her pinny pocket for her handkerchief and blotted her nose and eyes. ‘It’s amazin’!’

‘Thank you, Marjorie.’

‘And don’t you let anyone be telling you that you are putting the cart before the horse. I mean, your wedding was booked and this baby will be born in wedlock. That should be well enough for those to whom these things matter.’

Her dad rolled his eyes and Kitty’s thoughts turned to Angus’s pinched-faced mother to whom these things mattered a lot.

‘Can I see my cake?’ Kitty rubbed her hands together, excited.

Marjorie took her by the hand and led her into the hallway and through to the dining room.

‘Oh my goodness! Oh wow!’ Kitty stared at the three-tiered monstrosity that listed to the left. It was covered with mismatched blobs of icing that made for a lumpy surface. ‘Marjorie!’ she said enthusiastically, stalling for time, trying to think how to phrase the necessary in the most genuine way possible. ‘You made this? For me?’

‘I did.’ She nodded proudly. ‘With royal icing that was a bugger to work with, and all the fruit has been properly steeped in whisky. Do you like it?’ She looked at Kitty expectantly.

‘Marjorie, I have never loved a cake more!’ That was the truth.

Marjorie’s smile spoke volumes. ‘I knew you would. All we are missing is the wee bride and groom to put on the top, which Patrick has ordered for me and he assures me they will be here by nightfall.’

‘If they don’t turn up, I’ll get the modelling clay out,’ Kitty offered.

‘Now that’s not a bad idea! I think we might still have some of your old Play-Doh around somewhere.’

They both folded with laughter.

‘I’ve been digging a lot of your baby stuff out for the bairn.’ Marjorie was a little misty eyed.

‘That means the world to me.’ Kitty calmed and caught her breath. ‘How’s Mum doing?’

Marjorie averted her gaze. ‘Oh, you know, hen… good days and bad.’

‘And how is she today?’

‘Not good.’

‘And yesterday?’ she whispered.

‘Not good.’

‘How about the day before that?’

Marjorie shook her head and reached for her hand, which she took into both of her own. ‘Don’t let anything spoil your sunshine.’

‘I’ll try, Marjorie. And thank you for our beautiful cake. I do love you.’

‘Och, away with you. I need to crack on!’ she mumbled as she reached for the hanky in her pocket and dabbed at her eyes.

With all those staying overnight ensconced in the library, where whisky flowed and the noise levels rose in direct proportion to the amount consumed, Kitty decided to sneak out. She rummaged in her old chest of drawers until her hands fell upon a rather raggedy swimming costume with enough slack in the old elastic to accommodate the swell of her bump and her growing boobs.

Having grabbed a towel, she slipped her feet into a spare pair of wellingtons from the boot room, fastened her dressing gown and made her way to her beloved pool.

It was a beautiful evening, with the unseasonably warm wind making the leaves dance overhead. The pool lights were on and as Kitty placed her towel and dressing gown on top of her wellington boots by the side of the water, she felt very much at peace. Forgoing her dive, she slipped into the water and felt the familiar shudder of pleasure ripple along her skin. With a sudden appetite to cover ground, she began her lengths, concentrating on finding her breathing rhythm, exhaling with her face in the water and taking a full, deep, sharp inhalation each time her face lifted under the arc of her left arm. She ploughed through the water, length after length, her thoughts clearing and her whole body feeling properly alive. With her breath coming fast and having done thirty-odd lengths, she lay back in the water and let it lap over her ears. All she could hear were the murmurs from her watery world and the loud beating of her heart.

She stretched on the surface, wiggling her toes even though she couldn’t see them. At that angle, and looking straight ahead, her bump obscured just about everything. She loved it. She placed her hand on the safe pouch where her baby nestled. If it was a girl, they would call her Sophie; if it was a boy, Oliver. They had decided on Montgomery Thompson. She was still unsure if this was a brave or stupid decision, but if, as agreed, they were going to be open with the child, then this name would acknowledge its heritage and should help it feel like it belonged, strengthening its identity. Angus hadn’t flinched at the idea. He was still calm and appeasing, and in response, Kitty was quiet and grateful.

They had stopped having sex a while ago. Angus had said he was worried about hurting her or hurting the baby and even though she had tried to reassure him that if they were gentle it would be fine, he was adamant. Kitty ran her hand over her body and wondered if the real reason was, as she suspected, that her swelling form repulsed him in some way – whether because she was pregnant or because of how it had happened, she wasn’t sure. Either way, she didn’t feel very good about herself, even though she understood. When she raised it with him in the most delicate way possible, he assured her it would be business as usual once the baby arrived. She truly hoped so.

She felt lonely, missing the way sex bound the two of them, reminded them that they were facing the world together. This lack of physical contact made their home feel cold. She tried not to think about that afternoon with Theo, which physically had been so much more. Her body tingled at the memory of his touch, the unhurried ease with which she had been lost to him. It played in her head like a symphony and in her more fanciful moments she was quite unsurprised that something so perfect had produced this little miracle.

Kitty righted herself in the water and shook her head, wiping her face. This was not good enough! She should not be thinking about Theo on the night before her wedding – not on any night! It was unfair on Angus; kind, forgiving Angus, who was working hard, recently promoted and doing his best to build a wonderful life for the three of them. Life with Angus would be steady and calm, and this she knew was where happiness lay.

It was as she dried her skin and stepped into the wellingtons that she became aware of someone coming through the hedge.

‘Mum!’ She ran forward in the cumbersome footwear and into her mum’s arms.

‘My darling girl. Oh you look wonderful!’ Her mum breathed into her damp hair, kissing her scalp. ‘Big day for you tomorrow, for us all.’

Kitty pulled back to look at her pale face with its dark half-moons of worry sitting beneath sunken eyes. ‘Mum, if it’s too much for you…’

‘I’m fine. And no matter what, I’ll be there, darling, because I am here.’ She touched her fingers to her daughter’s chest. ‘And it will be the same for you with your child. Whether I am standing by your side or miles away, I am always here.’

‘Yes.’ Kitty could do nothing to stop her tears. ‘You are, Mum. Always.’

Her mum slipped back through the laurel hedge like a spectre, almost as if she had never even been there.

Kitty knew she should be getting an early night, but with all the guests now either asleep or in the kitchen tucking into Marjorie’s pork pie and chutney, she decided to sit in the library for a bit, with Champ sprawled across her lap and the fire crackling. Not that it was cold, but she wanted the comfort and distraction of the flames. She stroked Champ’s silky ears and thought about her mum, reassured now, after their brief chat by the pool.

She yawned and was finally thinking of calling it a night. Isla was coming early in the morning to help with her hair and make-up, and she knew the boys’ drinking around the kitchen table might go on until the early hours. Champ nestled appreciatively against her bump. Suddenly the door swung open and Angus came into the room.

She sat up straight, causing Champ to leap up. It was a shock to see that Angus had been crying. His nose was running and his eyes were puffy and red. He was a man of cool emotions and she’d never seen him like that before. Her heart raced, and she could only assume that this level of distress was because he’d decided to call off the wedding. Ridiculously, her first thought was, Oh no, Marjorie’s cake! What a waste!

He sank down onto the rug and placed his head on her lap. Kitty ran her fingers through his hair. ‘What’s up, darling? What on earth is wrong?’ she asked with a warble to her voice, waiting.

‘I do love you, Kitty, and I want to marry you. I want you to make me the man I need to be.’

She felt a flood of relief and kissed his head, guessing that the reality of marriage and fatherhood was hitting home on this night before the big day.

‘Oh, Angus! You are going to be a fine husband and a wonderful father! You are! We will do it together.’

He nodded and gripped her arms, and they sat like that for a while with the fire leaping and the logs hissing. And Kitty saw the image of Theo fade. This level of concern, this dedication to their future no matter how rocky the start, this was what marriage was all about.