Chapter 4
4
JOEL
‘You’re early,’ Tilly muttered as soon as she opened her front door on Saturday morning, her face bearing the withering scowl I swear she kept in a jar by the door just for me.
‘Good morning to you too,’ I declared brightly.
I had a full day and night to spend with Imogen and I refused to let yesterday’s job news, Chez’s bad attitude, a million weddings to attend without a plus one and Tilly’s disdain for me spoil a single minute of it.
‘The roads were clear,’ I added, with a smile. ‘No tractors this morning.’
Tilly pulled her long, thick navy cardigan across her body and glared at me. She looked even more shattered than usual with pale cheeks and dark shadows beneath her eyes. I wanted to ask if she was okay – a genuine question from a place of concern for someone I’d once loved – but the last few times I’d done that, I’d had my head bitten off. Are you saying I look rough? Thanks a lot, Joel.
When Tilly showed no sign of inviting me inside, I added, ‘I can wait in the car if you prefer.’
‘I suppose you’d better come in.’
She sighed heavily as she stepped back – a typical warm welcome from my ex.
‘Imogen!’ Tilly shouted up the stairs as she led me down the hall towards the lounge. ‘Your dad’s here.’
‘Daddy!’ Imogen cried, running down the stairs. She launched herself into my arms, wrapped her legs round my waist and buried her head into my chest – exactly what I needed after yesterday.
I kissed the top of her blonde hair. ‘Are you excited about trying on your dress?’
She looked up at me, eyes shining. ‘I can’t wait! I’ve always wanted to be a bridesmaid.’
‘You were my bridesmaid when I married Greg,’ Tilly said, sounding and looking most put out.
‘But I don’t remember that, Mummy.’
‘She was only three,’ I said, and immediately wished I hadn’t. If looks could kill.
I lowered Imogen to the floor. ‘You go and finish getting ready, sweetie.’
‘And put those tights and a dress on like I told you,’ Tilly said. ‘It’ll be easier to try on your bridesmaid dress if you’re wearing tights.’
There was nothing wrong with Imogen’s T-shirt and leggings. They’d keep her warmer than tights and a dress and she could easily try the bridesmaid dress on over leggings, but I knew better than to go against Tilly’s wishes.
Without a word, Tilly shoved past me and I regretted not doing as I usually did – parking round the corner and waiting, knowing how much she hated it when I was even one minute early for picking up Imogen.
Greg was on the sofa watching cartoons with the rest of the family – his ten-year-old son Leighton from his first marriage, and the two kids he and Tilly had together, four-year-old Ezra and three-year-old Delphine. Every time I saw them all, I had a flashback to that Saturday morning when Tilly had pulled the rug from under me. The whole marriage and kids thing isn’t for me. Yep, looked like it!
‘All right, Greg?’ I said, by way of greeting.
‘All right,’ he responded flatly without shifting his eyes from the television. Leighton looked up and smiled at me, offering his hand for a high five, but the two younger ones were mesmerised by their programme.
Greg didn’t like me, but that was okay because I wasn’t his number one fan either and I had far greater reason to dislike the man who’d married the woman I’d loved and got to live with my daughter.
Tilly swept some wooden building blocks and a couple of soft toys off an armchair onto the carpet and indicated wordlessly that I should sit. She sat down in an adjacent chair, and I braced myself for the usual barrage of instructions, as though I had no idea how to look after our daughter.
‘Don’t let her stay up too late,’ she said. ‘No more than one fizzy drink and make sure she eats some fruit. Check when she brushes her teeth because the dentist said she keeps missing the back ones.’
‘You told me that the last few times. I’ll make sure we don’t upset the dentist.’ As soon as the words were out, I realised I should have just nodded along.
‘It’s not about upsetting the dentist, Joel. It’s about our daughter’s teeth. Do you want her to have fillings before she’s ten? Do you want her teeth pulled out because of decay?’
I could feel Greg’s eyes on me now but I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of looking in his direction and seeing what I was sure would be a smug grin at me being dressed down.
‘I’m sorry. Please go on,’ I said, hoping I sounded sincere. Of course I didn’t want any of that but Tilly was going over the top. We shared the same dentist, and I’d asked him about Imogen at my recent check-up. He’d assured me that she had great teeth and he hadn’t been concerned that her brushing was ineffective. All he’d given was a gentle reminder to brush at the back which he gave to all children.
‘Why are they getting married in March anyway?’ Tilly asked. ‘Imogen will freeze in a short-sleeved dress.’
I took it as a rhetorical question and ignored it. The date Barney and Amber had chosen for their wedding was none of Tilly’s business and the weather comment was a daft one when the UK weather was so unpredictable that March could be warm and August freezing.
Barney, my best mate since senior school, ran Bumblebee Barn. The farm had been in his family for four generations and was a mixed operation with pigs, two breeds of sheep, goats, horses and hens as well as several crops. We’d both been unlucky in love throughout our twenties, although my problem was that I never seemed to meet anyone and his had been that he met lots of women – just not ones suited to a farming lifestyle. That all changed three years ago when his younger sister, Fizz, convinced him to try something radical and apply to a new reality TV show called Love on the Farm , aimed at helping single farmers find love . He’d been gobsmacked when he was selected as one of the featured farmers and, while he wasn’t attracted to any of the three potential matches, he found love with the show’s producer, Amber.
Amber had worked for many years as the producer on the television show Countryside Calendar – a Sunday-night staple which focused on living and working in the countryside across the different seasons. After they got together, Amber sold her London flat and moved in with Barney but spent a lot of time travelling to film Countryside Calendar alongside her pet project, The Wildlife Rescuers. Showcasing a year in the life of several wildlife rescue centres, it mainly focused on Hedgehog Hollow Wildlife Rescue Centre, which one of Amber’s best friends Samantha owned and where Fizz worked.
Although Amber loved her job, she found it increasingly difficult to be away from Barney, the farm and the friends she’d made in the area, so she decided to step away from TV production, filming her final ever episode of Countryside Calendar in Suffolk last summer . At the point she handed in her notice, Barney took her out for a meal, telling her it was to celebrate the end of her time as show producer but it was really so he could ask her to marry him.
They made such a great couple and I’d never seen my friend so happy. I got on brilliantly with Amber and felt just as welcome at the farm with her there as I’d always been, so I couldn’t be more thrilled for them. But their wedding – and the five which would follow – did make me reflect on my own situation more than I cared to, with a tinge of sadness that it wasn’t me. Would it ever be?
‘Ready!’ Imogen appeared and gave us a twirl in a pretty yellow and white dress which, despite being accompanied by thick white tights as instructed, struck me as more suitable for the height of summer than the first Saturday in March. Pretty ironic considering the comments Tilly had made about Imogen freezing in her bridesmaid dress at this time of year.
‘Have you been to the toilet?’ Tilly asked her.
Imogen shook her head. ‘And I can’t fit Cloud in my case.’
Cloud was Imogen’s favourite soft toy – a round fluffy sheep – which she never slept without.
‘Okay. You go to the toilet and I’ll sort out Cloud.’
‘Don’t squash him!’
‘I’ll leave the zip slightly open so he can still breathe,’ Tilly said, giving Imogen a reassuring smile. She might be hostile and snappy around me but there was no denying that Tilly was a devoted, caring mum. Just a shame she couldn’t seem to see how much it hurt our daughter to have such limited contact with me. I had no comprehensive response to Imogen’s frequently asked question – Why can’t I see you more often? It was especially difficult when there was already a precedent set in their family – Leighton spends half the week and every other weekend with his mum. Why don’t we do that? The answer I wanted to give – Because your mum is being awkward – would land me in deep water and I’d sworn I’d never badmouth Tilly in front of Imogen, so I simply hugged her, wiped her tears and assured her that, just because I didn’t get to see her, it didn’t mean I wasn’t thinking about her and missing her every single day.
As Imogen ran out of the room, Tilly pushed herself up from her chair and my breath caught. I recognised that gait. She couldn’t be pregnant again, surely? But her cardigan slipped to one side revealing a distinct baby bump. It seemed that the woman who didn’t want children was pregnant with her fourth baby.
She must have noticed me staring as her cheeks flushed. ‘I was going to tell you when you dropped her back.’ Her voice was soft with a hint of an apology.
‘Congratulations,’ I said, my voice coming out a little husky. ‘When’s it due?’
‘ They’re due on 20 July.’
‘They? You’re having twins?’ Being halfway through a pregnancy with twins would explain why she looked so exhausted. She’d struggled with fatigue throughout the first and second trimester of all her pregnancies.
‘Twin boys,’ she said as she shuffled out of the room, clearly not interested in further conversation.
‘Congratulations, Greg,’ I said.
He grinned but he didn’t look in my direction. I could imagine the words he wanted to say but had just about enough intellect to keep inside – Look at me with my growing family. Bet you wish you could trade places.
Thing is, I didn’t wish that. Well, not completely. I didn’t want to be with Tilly anymore and hadn’t done for a long time. The way she’d ended things and the disdain with which she’d treated me over the years had erased any residual feelings of love for her. I would always care for her as the mother of my child, but I didn’t particularly like her these days. And I wasn’t as bothered about having a big family like I’d once planned. Imogen was an amazing little girl and I was so lucky to have her. Yes, it would be great to meet someone and have more children but, if Imogen was the only child I fathered, so be it. What I did envy about Greg’s life – and the part I wished I could change – was all the time he got to spend with my daughter when I barely saw her.
My phone buzzed, taking my attention away from my moment of envy and giving me the ideal excuse to step out of the uncomfortable atmosphere and into the hall. I smiled at the WhatsApp message from Fizz.
From Fizz
Hi you, Darcie wants to know if Imogen can come back to ours for cake and a milkshake after the dress fittings. I said I’d ask but warned her you might have other plans. I know your time together is precious
Even though Imogen loved spending time with me, I couldn’t compete with an offer like that. The cake and milkshakes would be tempting but the biggest draw was time with thirteen-year-old Darcie. Despite the five-year age gap, the pair of them adored each other and were always begging to spend more time together. Darcie was the adopted daughter of Phoebe – Fizz’s fiancée and Barney’s future sister-in-law. Fizz had proposed to Phoebe at the start of the year on Phoebe’s birthday. They’d been a couple for four years at that point and, although they hadn’t wanted to wait for long to tie the knot, they’d been concerned about stealing Barney and Amber’s thunder and said they’d wait until next year to get married. Barney and Amber had told them not to be so daft so they’d gone for May meaning the first two weddings this year were for the Kinsella siblings. After that it was my cousin’s wedding in August, my mate Tim’s in September, Zara’s in October and my mate Levi’s next May. If I did lose my job in the restructure, I’d have to hope I found another one quickly because six weddings and several more stag dos were going to set me back a small fortune.
To Fizz
I’m going to the farm while you’re getting sorted but we’ve no specific plans after that
From Fizz
Amber’s coming back to ours too but Darcie’s going out with friends mid-afternoon so how about Amber brings her back to the farm then?
To Fizz
Sounds good
‘Why are you in the hall?’ Tilly asked, pausing halfway down the stairs with Imogen’s small purple suitcase in her hand.
I held up my phone as an explanation and took the first few steps, reaching for the case.
‘I’m pregnant, not incapable,’ she snapped, snatching it away.
I couldn’t win with her, so I retreated and let her bring it down herself. Imogen appeared again, pulling on a thin white cardigan which she might as well not be wearing for all the warmth it would give her. Tilly placed the case by the door, removed Imogen’s coat from the hooks at the bottom of the stairs and draped it over the case.
‘I’ll take these out to the car,’ I said as the pair of them went into the lounge so Imogen could say goodbye. I’d spotted Imogen’s favourite zipped hoodie hanging up so I sneakily grabbed that to give her something warmer to wear under her coat.
A few minutes later, Imogen was safely strapped into the back seat wearing her hoodie, having unsurprisingly announced that she was cold the moment we stepped outside the house.
‘Joel!’ Tilly called as I was about to close the door.
I stiffened. Was she going to lecture me for challenging her wardrobe choices?
‘I’ll be back in a minute,’ I told Imogen. ‘I’ll see what Mummy wants.’
‘Just making sure you’re okay,’ Tilly said when I joined her. ‘About the babies, I mean. I didn’t want you to find out like this.’
Her concern took me by surprise. Could she possibly think I still had feelings for her and would be hurt by her news?
‘It’s none of my business how many children you have,’ I responded, keeping my tone nonchalant.
‘I know, but…’ The soft expression reminded me of the Tilly I used to know instead of the sparring partner she’d become.
‘There is no but ,’ I said gently. ‘If you’re happy, then I’m happy for you.’
‘I am happy. Shattered, but happy.’
‘Then we’re good. Congratulations, and I’ll see you tomorrow.’
I turned to leave, but she called my name again.
‘I’m sorry it didn’t work out for you and Marley.’
‘Marley? That ended over two years ago.’
‘And I never said I was sorry at the time, but I was. I thought she was the one.’
That threw me too.
‘So did I at first, but I’ve got form on that.’ It didn’t come out as flippantly as I meant it and I felt guilty when her shoulders slumped and tears pricked her eyes.
‘I just want you to be happy,’ she whispered.
She wasn’t normally like this around me and it was unsettling. The unprecedented show of concern had to be down to pregnancy hormones.
‘I’m fine, thanks. And don’t worry about Imogen. I’ll take good care of her, as always, and she’ll have an amazing weekend.’
‘I know. It’s just that I miss her when she’s with you.’
She missed her? Like I didn’t? Frustration bubbling over, I couldn’t bite my tongue any longer.
‘Then put yourself in my shoes and imagine how I feel most days. You truly want me to be happy? Then let me see our daughter more often and stop using my shifts as an excuse.’
The softness had disappeared – probably thanks to my sharp tone – and was replaced by her familiar stony glare. ‘You know it’s difficult.’
‘Only because you make it that way. I’ll see you tomorrow.’
I dashed back to the car before she could respond, started the engine and drove away with Imogen waving frantically to her mum. God, that woman knew how to push all my buttons! She was sorry about Marley? Where on earth had that come from? And why choose now as the moment to tell me that, two years after Marley had walked away? Better late than never I suppose, but I wished she hadn’t said anything because now, as well as being frustrated with Tilly, I was thinking about Marley and how not wanting children had been the reason that relationship had ended too. Although, unlike Tilly, Marley hadn’t gone on to have a brood with someone else.
Marley had been one of the three potential matches for Barney on Love on the Farm but, even if Amber hadn’t been in the picture, nothing would have happened between them. Lack of chemistry aside, Marley had a serious pig phobia so could never have dated a pig farmer. After the production company pulled the plug on the show before filming finished, Barney stayed in touch with two of the contestants as friends – Marley and Tayla – and Marley and I got together not long after. Everything had been going really well between us until we approached Christmas that same year. Tilly had stunned me by saying that she thought we’d been together long enough for Marley to meet Imogen but Marley seemed hesitant to commit to anything. A couple of weeks into the New Year, Marley admitted that she’d never wanted her own children – something she’d never actually mentioned to me – but had now realised that she wasn’t interested in children in her life in any capacity. Obviously, that meant no future for the pair of us, so I was back to licking my wounds and wondering whether I’d ever find what Barney and Amber had. Or Tilly and Greg, Fizz and Phoebe or the many other couples I knew who seemed to have cracked what I’d never managed – someone they loved who loved them and every part of their life in return. Even my other closest mates Tim and Levi – both of whom had never shown any interest in settling down – were getting married to partners they’d met after I’d split up with Marley.
Plenty of time for meeting someone. You’re only thirty-four. Just because everyone else seems to be tying the knot, it doesn’t mean it’ll never happen for you. All in good time. Someone will come along eventually.
I hoped. But, knowing my luck, the next woman I fell for would just see me as a friend. They all did. It seemed to be the story of my life.