Wild About You

Chapter 26

CHAPTER 26

Richard left to return to Stonemore at 7am; the only sign of him going was the epic slam, which was obligatory when exiting the glam apartment’s front door. ‘He’s got an important meeting tomorrow,’ said Fi, foggy-eyed with sleep, as I made her a tea an hour later. ‘And once we’ve got the prize ceremony out of the way, you’ve just got to visit that project, haven’t you? I can stay in the car.’

This wasn’t like Fi. Every time we asked her, she said she was fine, but all of her bounciness had departed. I thought about telling her what Tobias had said, but dismissed the thought in under a minute and gazed at my phone gloomily.

TOBIAS Anna! Help me. What do I do? The creep is back .

ANNA Sit tight. I’ll sort it .

I thought it through. The ceremony was at lunchtime, thank goodness, and then we’d be on the road to visit the project outside London. Jamie suggested we drive through the night to get home, rather than staying another night in London as originally planned. ‘I think Fi needs to get home,’ he said, and I agreed.

‘Got your outfit planned?’ I said to her now.

She nodded and smiled. ‘Might need ironing though.’

‘I can do that.’

I watched her face brighten as Jamie entered with croissants.

We needed to get home. We could sort everything out once we got home.

Home . Stonemore. That’s how I’d thought of it, automatically. I should have felt more at home here in London – galvanised by the city, alive to its excitement and opportunity. As I’d sat by the glittering river the night before, I’d just wanted to get back to Stonemore. I wanted, not the freedom of London, but to be hemmed in by the stone walls of my cottage. Wearing jeans and a jumper dusted with beagle hair rather than designer clothes and shoes that made me sashay as I walked. I wanted to breathe the clean air, check the meadow, complain about the weather.

TOBIAS A nice lady called Roshni called .

ANNA You didn’t tell her, did you?

TOBIAS Ofc not! What do you think I am?

ANNA We’re coming back tonight. We can sort everything when we’re back .

We readied ourselves for the awards ceremony with trepidation. Fi decided against the glitter and went for a deep blue structured dress that looked high fashion rather than a tent, paired with flat shoes. I’d gone for a deep, rewilding appropriate green, fitted to the waist then flowing out in an A-line shape, with vertiginous heels. And Jamie was in a perfectly tailored blue suit, looking hotter than any man had the right to look. Shoes polished, crisp white shirt, and artfully stubbled. ‘I don’t want to look like a Hooray Henry,’ he explained, when I teased him about the shadow on his face. Tactfully, I didn’t tell him that my stomach had flipped with desire at the sight of him.

His phone had fallen silent. Apart from the obligatory morning photograph of Hugo, sent by Callum, there were no frenzied updates from Lucinda, no 100-decibel phone conversations where she complained about altercations with the florist. She was clearly occupied with Dirty Darren. Did the woman have no taste?

The ceremony was in an uber-trendy eco-hotel in Knightsbridge. Inside, everything was white, and there was a lot of smoked glass. It was also aggressively perfumed. Fi put her head on my shoulder as Jamie signed us in.

It began with an hour-long drinks reception. Fi did a lot of smiling and nodding from a chair whilst Jamie and I progressed around the room, making small talk and handing out business cards. I’d always hated networking on my own account, but acting on behalf of Stonemore, I was as efficient as a military-trained operative. ‘God, you’re good at this,’ Jamie murmured to me at one point.

‘Don’t praise me, I’m in so much pain from these shoes I might start crying,’ I whispered.

He choked into his drink.

Luckily the hour sped past and we were shown into the ballroom where a three-course lunch was set. The room was decorated with wildflower arrangements and vast amounts of foliage. ‘Is that an actual tree ?’ murmured Fi, clutching me on one side and Jamie on the other. ‘How much money do these people have?’

‘As long as they’re on the side of the angels,’ I said, and allowed a passing waiter to refill my glass. I was sticking to elderflower cordial, partly out of solidarity with Fi, partly because I was worried about getting tipsy and hurling myself at Jamie with warnings about Lucinda.

Lunch flew, and then the ceremony began properly. We watched carefully as a lifetime achievement award was given to a tree expert who had contributed to the understanding of root systems. Then we were on to the agricultural section.

‘When are we up?’ said Fi.

‘It won’t be for a few minutes,’ I said. ‘They’ve got the whole of agricultural, then it’s heritage, which includes us.’ She gave me a thumbs-up and nipped off to the loo.

The projects were truly inspiring – from the independent cheesemakers to an initiative that was recycling vegetable matter for fuel. It wasn’t like a TV awards ceremony where people thanked everyone from their agent to the person who took them to school when they were five; here people were sometimes brusque to the point of incomprehension, but everyone looked really pleased. It was heartwarming to watch. One farmer couldn’t speak, receiving his award whilst blinking back tears.

‘Highly unusual,’ I whispered to Jamie. ‘I’ve learned that true country folk are usually as tough as winter ground.’

‘What, like me?’ he said, with a rueful grin that pierced my heart.

The agricultural section finished and they began to play a succession of snapshots of the heritage projects, including one featuring a drone shot of Stonemore executed by George.

‘It looks fab,’ I said to Jamie.

‘Do not tell him that,’ he whispered.

Fi arrived back at the table just as they were reading out the nominations for our award. ‘Just in time,’ I said to her, with a smile. She tried to smile back, but I could see immediately that something was wrong. Jamie had turned away, watching the stage.

‘What’s up?’ I whispered.

She looked at me, her eyes shining with tears. ‘I’m bleeding,’ she whispered.

‘And the winner is, the Stonemore Estate First Steps Rewilding Project!’

Applause rang in my ears. Jamie turned to look at me, smiling as he rose to his feet. Then he saw my face, and Fi’s, and the smile faded to a frown.

‘You go,’ I mouthed to him. With a curt nod, he turned and weaved his way through the other tables to get the award. My neighbour nudged me and congratulated me. I stretched my mouth into a smile – somehow, without any thought, I found myself thanking him. On the other side, I clutched Fi’s hand, clammy and trembling, in my own.

Jamie’s speech may not have been the shortest on record, but it was a close thing. I didn’t catch a single one of the handful of words he said. Then he bounded back down through the applauding guests.

‘What’s happening?’ he said.

I explained as quickly as possible. ‘We have to get her to hospital – now.’

I held Fi tight in the back seat as we sped through the London streets, Jamie driving with a set jaw. She wept against my shoulder and I couldn’t bear to feel how much she trembled in my arms.

‘It’s going to be okay,’ I said, again and again, absorbing her shivering as Jamie dialled Richard on the hands-free.

‘Hi?’ Richard’s voice in the car, innocent and curious, sent Fi into a volley of sobs. ‘Hush, hush, hush,’ I said to her, as though she was a child.

‘Richard, it’s Jamie. You’d better get back here. I’m driving Fi to hospital. She’s bleeding.’ Jamie spoke crisply, definitely. When a cab pulled out in front of him, he put his hand on the horn.

‘Oh my God. Can I speak to her?’

Fi opened her mouth to speak, but nothing coherent came out.

‘Fi? Fi? ’ Richard’s voice was frantic.

‘Richard. Richard!’ Jamie’s voice: relentless, firm, calm. ‘Just get in the car if you’re not in it already, and drive back. Don’t take any risks, eyes on the road. We’re taking good care of her. Do you understand?’

I heard him swallow. ‘Yes.’

‘That’s good. We’ll see you soon.’

‘I’m hours away.’

‘We’ll see you soon, Richard. Remember what I said.’ He named the hospital and gave him the co-ordinates. ‘Drive safe.’

‘Okay.’ Richard’s shell-shocked voice brought fresh tears to my eyes.

Jamie raised hell at the hospital. I’d never seen people move so fast; they were out in a minute with a wheelchair. I ran alongside Fi down the white corridors, then stood at the edge of the room as the medics did their thing. Fi had stopped crying. Deadly calm, I could see hope and despair fighting in her eyes. When a doctor started to speak, in a slow, measured voice, I came forwards, seeking to understand him when she might not.

Baby is in distress.

Emergency caesarean.

Baby small, but viable.

Would she give consent?

‘Her husband’s hours away,’ I said, my mouth dry.

‘Just do it,’ said Fi. ‘Save him.’

Him . I choked back a sob. Her and Richard’s secret: they were expecting a little boy.

‘Can my friend come in with me?’ said Fi. Her temporary calmness was dissolving; I could hear the tremor in her voice.

‘Of course,’ he glanced at me. ‘You’ll have to get gowned up.’

I stepped out of the room for a moment. The corridor was busy, the hospital full of the ceaseless activity of human life. When Jamie took me gently by the shoulders, I started and stared up at him.

I repeated what the doctor had said. ‘The baby’s small but viable.’

‘Viable? Jesus Christ.’ He let me go and turned away, then back. ‘Are you alright?’

‘Yes, I think so.’

He enfolded me in his arms. Just for a moment, I breathed in his warmth, the scent of him. It felt as though we were clinging to each other, holding onto each other’s strength.

‘Anna?’ A nurse had appeared. ‘Follow me to gown up.’

Jamie released me, and we stared at each other. We nodded at each other, then I went.

It was the longest minute in the world. It felt like the longest silence, even amidst the frantic activity of the medical staff. I leaned over Fi’s head, stroking her hair, as her son was taken out of her and carried over to a trolley.

Waiting, waiting, holding my breath, Fi trembling. The silence, the terrible silence.

Then, a wail.

I heard Fi gasp, saw her frantic terror alchemise into joy.

‘Show baby to Mum,’ I heard someone say.

And there he was. Red-raw, enraged, bellowing into the air, and utterly perfect. Placed on Fi’s chest for a moment, he quietened. I looked at his eyes, the bright blue of a summer sky, looking out at the world. Here he was. Life could begin again. But it would be utterly changed.

They rushed him away to an incubator.

‘He just needs a little bit of oxygen,’ said the doctor as they began to stitch up Fi. ‘He’s in good hands.’

I wanted to grab hold of him and say: Promise me everything will be okay. Promise me . Instead, I stroked Fi’s hair as they sewed her up.

Outside the theatre, stripped of my gown, I sat down on a plastic orange chair. I was still wearing the clothes from the ceremony, and the high heels. It was as though I was suddenly conscious again, and back in my body. My feet were killing me and my shoulders were in knots. Jamie appeared, carrying a paper cup. ‘They said you were out. Drink this. I asked for extra sugar.’

I took a sip. Hot chocolate. ‘Thanks,’ I said. ‘Although obviously it’s not a patch on Cal’s.’ The joke was a poor one, but he smiled weakly. ‘He can make you a special one when we get home,’ he said. ‘How is everything? Fi?’

‘She’s fine,’ I said. ‘And he’s fine.’ I leaned against him. I didn’t care about being subtle.

He nodded. ‘I saw them bring him past. He was yelling pretty hard.’ He put his arm around me.

‘He’ll see the saplings become adult trees,’ I said. ‘If he grows up at Stonemore.’

Jamie stroked my hair. ‘And I bet he’ll like the sunflowers.’

I laughed croakily. ‘Sunflowers won’t like the acidic soil at Stonemore, or our high winds,’ I chided him. ‘But there’s going to be a whole field sown with meadow buttercups. I know you wanted a blaze of yellow.’

I saw his face twist with emotion. He held me tight to him. Then it was natural to drop a kiss on my head, my forehead, then my lips. And I kissed him back. It was the tenderest, sweetest kiss. After a moment we parted and I nestled into the crook of his neck, defenceless against the tide of emotion that was suddenly threatening to overwhelm me.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I shouldn’t have kissed you.’

‘Don’t worry,’ I said. ‘What happens in maternity stays in maternity.’

By the time Richard arrived, Fi had slept for two hours and was so outwardly calm and happy she claimed to be ‘embarrassed’ she had been so stressed. The baby was to be called Ross, ‘and I know he will be alright,’ she said, almost defiantly. Richard was less certain; I could see the worry on his face, and as they took their place beside the incubator, I could see he was shaking.

The medics were cautious but said the signs were good. Weighing in at a mighty four and a half pounds, Ross was big for a preemie and all the signs were positive that his early entry into the world wouldn’t affect his long-term health. They were just giving him a ‘little bit of help’.

‘It’s strange,’ I said, as Jamie drove me back to the apartment so we could pack up our things and get Fi’s stuff. ‘I just loved him – little Ross. The moment I saw him. Not like Fi and Richard do, of course. But the urge to protect him was so great.’

‘Yes,’ said Jamie quietly. ‘I felt the same about my nephews.’

I watched his face as he drove. I could see he was carefully building up his defences again. Watching his quiet resolve as he navigated the London streets, I realised that I loved him. I loved this man. Posh boy. Beagle boy. Earl. Whatever. He was just Jamie to me, and I loved him so much I thought my heart might break again. When I started crying, unable to contain it anymore, he put one hand towards me and clasped mine for a moment. ‘Ross and Fi will be okay,’ he said. ‘I know it.’

I nodded, tears streaming down my face. I wanted to tell him everything. How I’d shied away from being near babies. The baby showers I couldn’t attend, or the ones I did, only to end up sitting numb on the tube home afterwards, winded by the pain. I wanted to tell him Stonemore had started to heal me. That I’d found new things to love. That a meadow full of wildflowers told me that my life wasn’t worthless, and I wouldn’t be traceless.

That seeing Ross born had made my heart swell so much it hurt, but that the pain was a kind of beautiful pain. A way in to being that baby’s aunt, an elder of some kind.

I wanted to tell him that I loved him, just so he knew. That I wanted him in every single way it was possible to want a person. That the connection I’d felt with him hadn’t gone away, as much as I’d tried to break the threads binding us. That I hadn’t used him, shaken him off, moved on. What had happened between us would always be there, a tiny shard lodged in my heart. It hurt now, but one day, like the children I’d never had, that shard would shine as bright as a gemstone.

But telling him that would just be for my own sake, wouldn’t it? It would be a selfish thing to do.

So instead, I blew my nose, wiped my eyes, and pulled out the glass vase Jamie had stowed in the glove box, etched with the prize name. ‘Where will you put it?’ I said.

‘On one of the twenty-five mantelpieces at Stonemore,’ he said.

‘As long as I can dust it.’

‘That’s the thing though,’ he said, indicating right and waiting for another car to pass. ‘You won’t be there, will you?’

It was an overnight drive back to Stonemore after we’d dropped Fi’s stuff off at the hospital. Richard was being provided with a bed by a local charity who kept facilities for parents, and wouldn’t accept Jamie’s offer of extending the apartment booking. ‘I’m closer to them here,’ he said. I let myself have an hour with them, holding Fi’s hand and cooing over Ross, but they needed time together as a family. I could always practise being ‘weird obsessive auntie’ once Ross was home. We left them with hugs, kisses and the contents of the hospital gift shop. This included an enormous teddy intended to stand guard over Ross’s incubator, which had to be moved within five minutes due to health and safety concerns.

I convinced Jamie to alter his insurance so we could take it in turns to drive. ‘If you do the whole thing, you’ll end up falling asleep and we’ll plough into the central reservation at 4am.’

‘Thanks for your faith in me,’ he said dryly.

‘You’re only human, I’m told,’ I said.

So we drove and slept, drove and slept. After a few hours we agreed we needed to stretch our legs, so shared a sleepy coffee break in the neon bright café of a service station at midnight. We were quiet. Companionable, but quiet. I could sense the unsaid words building up between us. And there was a feeling growing in my chest. Heavy weather. An urgency.

Tobias’s Lucinda complaints had stopped once I’d told him about Fi. I gave him regular updates about her condition, and received sober ‘Thank you x’ texts in response. I knew he didn’t want to burden me but I also itched to ask what the situation was.

And I knew, at any moment, I could tell Jamie his fiancée had betrayed him.

‘Is Lucinda expecting you?’ I said, sipping from my paper cup of coffee, which was so weak it looked as though the water had just been shown the coffee granules before they’d mutually agreed to part.

He blinked, as though the question surprised him. ‘I think so. I called and she wasn’t there, so I left a message with Tally to tell her I’d be back and for her not to wait up but go home. I just want to get back and go to bed.’

I nodded. A cleaner pushed a mop around the beige tiled floor, bobbing his head to the music coming from his headphones. I felt as though I would burst. This went beyond Lucinda; beyond Sean.

‘I want to stay,’ I blurted out. Jamie’s eyes darted to my face, but in an instant he looked away again.

‘You’re just tired,’ he said. ‘It’s been an emotional day.’

‘Don’t you want me to stay?’

His eyes kindled and fixed on my face. There you are , I thought.

‘You know the answer to that question,’ he said grittily.

‘So why the reticence? Am I to understand you won’t let me withdraw my resignation?’ God, I was being bold. Did this coffee have Cognac in it?

‘I don’t know.’ He put the lid back on his cup.

I drew in a juddering breath. Saw Stonemore being erased from my life. My raw, middle-of-the-night feelings threatened to tip me into another crying fit.

‘Fair enough,’ I said, looking down. ‘I can still visit, I guess. Excuse me. I just need to pop to the loo.’

In the deserted bathroom I locked myself in a cubicle and allowed myself a brief sob. Crying at midnight in a service station loo. Wasn’t there a country music song with that title?

I came out of the cubicle, ran cold water and washed away what was left of my make-up. The water made my eyes marginally less puffy. I put some lip balm on, sprayed some perfume from a tiny vial I found in my bag. Not bad. I mean, I looked as though I’d been on an all-night bender, but I was making an effort.

Jamie was waiting outside the toilets, sadly inspecting a coin-operated ride-on train for children as though he was considering having a go.

‘I’m fine,’ I said to him. ‘Consider that conversation not had.’

He passed a hand over his eyes. ‘There’s a lot I could say,’ he said. ‘But it wouldn’t be fair on anyone.’

I nodded, and waved my hand as though to indicate blah blah blah . ‘Let’s hit the road.’