Chapter 34
Barry’s shocked face instantly made her wish she hadn’t said anything. If only she had waited a bit until they’d got to know each other better, he might have understood. Now, as she tried to explain about Sam, stumbling and repeating her words in her confusion, she told herself that she’d blown it.
Every now and then, while listening to her story, Barry nodded sharply, or looked away as though silently condemning her role in it all. It made her voice shake even more and it struck her that although she’d been so keen to criticise Joe about his ex-wife, she was in no position to do so. Hadn’t she, too, given others the wrong impression about her own marital situation?
‘So that,’ she said finally after what seemed like an age, ‘is how I ended up in the position I am in now.’ Barry looked at her in a way that made her determined not to turn away, in case he thought she was hiding any more unpalatable truths. ‘I still don’t understand some of this stuff. Why did you break up so soon after getting married? Did you have a row about something?’
She could see him trying to smile, and her heart leaped at the thought that maybe there was still hope, if he was still talking to her.
‘A row? You could say that.’ Her mouth had turned horribly dry, so her voice sounded cracked. What had turned out to be the perfect evening now looked as though it was going to be ruined, and it was all her fault. ‘I told you that we continued backpacking through America after the wedding.’
He nodded.
‘Well …’ She faltered, making herself push out the words. ‘By the time we reached San Francisco, I realised I was late.’
‘Late?’
‘ Late ,’ repeated Gemma, emphasising the word. ‘You know.’ She looked away, embarrassed to be talking about something so personal with a man she had only known for a few weeks. ‘I thought I was pregnant. Sam utterly freaked out. Said he’d never wanted kids and that I’d tricked him.’
Barry frowned. ‘But you must have talked about having children before you got married?’
Exactly what Kitty had said at the time.
‘Not really. I just presumed he’d want them. Doesn’t everyone? Besides, like I said, we did it – got married, that is – on the spur of the moment, without talking things through like most couples do.’
Barry squeezed her hand. ‘I won’t think any the worse of you if you tell me that you had an …’
‘Abortion?’ Gemma felt a cold shaft shoot through her. ‘I wouldn’t do that. I can understand why some women do but personally, it’s not for me.’
The lump in her chest got bigger. ‘I had a late period a few days later. Afterwards, I was told it might have been a very early miscarriage. We had a terrible argument and then I walked out of our hotel room. I flew back home and never heard from him again. In fact, I didn’t know where he was until a few weeks ago.’
Barry’s eyebrows knitted in disapproval. ‘Didn’t he come after you to check you were all right?’
If only! Hadn’t she spent weeks at Kitty’s flat, hoping Sam would do exactly that? ‘I managed by throwing myself into my teacher training. I didn’t tell anyone, apart from my friend Kitty, that Sam and I had actually got married, because I felt so stupid. My family, well, Dad anyway, simply wouldn’t have understood. The longer I left it, the harder it would have been to have said, hey, guess what, I got married a few years ago. Of course, I tried to get in touch with him through the university to ask for a divorce, but when I wrote to the forwarding address they gave me, it came back with a Not Known Here stamp.’
‘What about his mother?’
Gemma thought of Patricia with the bird-like face and gimlet hooded eyes, who had observed her use the cutlery in the right way during a holiday visit in her second year and, rather surprisingly, announced her approval of their relationship before it had all gone wrong.
‘I wrote to her, asking if she knew where Sam was, but she didn’t. Apparently he was still backpacking. In fact, she had hoped I had news of him. He wasn’t even on Facebook.’
Barry gave her the sort of look she gave to one of the children when they denied doing something they shouldn’t have done. ‘Nowadays, it’s possible to find almost anyone. I suspect you let it slide because you were still partly in love with him and hoped he might come back of his own accord, declaring he was ready to start a family.’
How was it possible for someone she hardly knew to understand her so well?
‘I fell in love with someone once who decided that our plans weren’t a level playing field,’ Barry went on quietly. ‘For years I hoped she might change her mind, but she didn’t.’ His eyes took on a faraway expression for a minute, and then flickered back to her. ‘There’s one thing I still don’t understand. You said earlier that you might come on a trip with me next summer, but you couldn’t before Christmas. Why?’
‘Because that’s when I can get a divorce.’ Gemma heard her voice rising in excitement. ‘I’ve seen a lawyer in town and he said that even if I couldn’t find Sam, I can start proceedings after five years. We’re nearly there now. My decree nisi should be sorted by Christmas.’
A couple of dog walkers strolled past, and they paused until they’d gone. It was easy to forget, out here in the dark air, that there was anyone else around. Barry gave a big sigh. ‘You mentioned his mother. How come you’ve seen her again?’
Gemma bit her lip. ‘That’s the other thing. Sam’s son is in my class.’
‘His son? But he said he didn’t want children.’
‘Exactly.’ Her voice came out cracked, and she had to fight back the tears of betrayal. ‘That’s what was so awful. I left him because he’d said he didn’t want children. But he did ! He’s got this lovely son with an American woman whom I like. Well, sort of like. Her surname is a mixture of her maiden name and Sam’s surname. But according to his mother, they’re not married even though she pretends they are.’
‘Isn’t that a bit odd?’ He was frowning as though doubting her.
‘Not really. Lots of women take their partner’s surname when they have children, even today; I suppose it makes it easier.’
He didn’t look convinced. ‘And what about you? Do you still have feelings for Sam?’
He said the name in a voice heavy with disdain. He was jealous! Despite the awkwardness of it all, Gemma found herself feeling flattered.
‘No,’ she said, automatically reaching up and twisting her silver chain nervously. It felt cold to her touch, even though it had been next to her skin all day. ‘And even if I did, I could never break up a family.’
He seemed to be weighing all this up in his mind. ‘So you’re sure you’re over him?’
Gemma nodded tightly. Of course she was, she told herself. Those small stabs of doubt were natural. Everyone (well, most people) had the odd twinge when they finally broke out of a relationship. Her so-called marriage to Sam had been dead for years; as Kitty said, it was time she finally let it go.
‘And how does he feel?’
Barry was clearly determined to know everything about the situation.
It was the question that Gemma had been asking herself. ‘I don’t know. I haven’t seen him. I only know about him now because his mother told me at Parents’ Evening when she came instead of Nancy – that’s Sam’s wife, or rather not-wife.’
She stopped. For some reason, it gave her a funny taste in her mouth to say Nancy’s name. Something told her that now was not the time to repeat what Patricia had said about Sam ‘still holding a candle’ for her.
Just at that moment, a heron swooped past them very low on the canal, landing on the water with a splash and breaking the silence which had descended on them.
‘Wow.’ Barry leaned back in his chair. ‘What a story.’
Gemma nodded. Her mouth was dry from all the talking, but she felt lighter than she had for a very long time after releasing the secret that had been troubling her for years.
He reached out for her hand. ‘I’m flattered you chose to confide in me.’
She flushed. ‘I also needed to explain why I haven’t allowed myself to have a meaningful relationship until now.’
Barry’s face lit up. ‘Until now? Does that mean you might consider it now?’
She paused. Barry was so kind! She felt a tingle every time he touched her. Yet he was going away. It would be another ‘waiting’ relationship, except that this time, he would be coming home. Providing he didn’t get injured, that was.
‘We don’t really know each other yet,’ she said, ‘but …’ He leaned towards her. ‘Let me finish that sentence for you. We don’t really know each other yet, but one day we might have more time to do exactly that.’
One day, thought Gemma. One day. Is that really such a good idea?
But then he kissed her.
When Gemma went back to the playgroup after half-term, she was still reeling. ‘You look wonderful,’ remarked Clemmie’s mother enviously. ‘Have you been to a spa? I used to be a model for this really lovely one in Hertfordshire.’
A spa? Better than that, she wanted to say, thinking of the long evenings she and Barry had spent together after that incredible night on the boat. Once, when he got too close, she had reluctantly stopped him.
‘Not until you’re unmarried?’ he had said in a quiet teasing tone, and she had nodded while feeling slightly silly. It wasn’t just that she was not divorced yet. She had only known Barry for a short time and, even though he seemed almost too good to be true (so courteous, thoughtful, good-looking and steady), it didn’t seem right to jump into bed with him. Not yet, anyway.
Meanwhile, she’d returned the necessary documents to the crisp woman solicitor in town whom she’d met on the day that she’d collided with Joe’s bike. By the end of next January the degree absolute would be through, and then she’d be a free woman.
Thank goodness Sam was still abroad and she wouldn’t have to see him. Thank goodness too for the second half of term at Puddleducks to distract her.
The first morning was almost as hectic as the first morning back in September. ‘Mrs Merryfield, Mrs Merryfield, can I be a sheep in the nativity play? I can bleat really well. Listen. I’ve been practising.’
‘Mrs Merryfield, Mrs Merryfield, my mum says it’s silly just having sparklers. Can’t we have rockets too for the firework tea party?’
‘Mrs Merryfield, Mrs Merryfield, will there be chickens on the farm visit? Cos my mum says I’m allergic to eggs.’
‘Mrs Merryfield, why do eggs go hard when you boil them?’ (Good question, Sienna. Things often change when they are heated up.)
‘Mrs Merryfield, have you heard about Danny?’ asked Billy’s mother, who usually wore clear braces on her teeth, although now they were noticeable by their absence. ‘No Billy, not now. I’m talking.’
Heard about Danny? Gemma’s heart froze. ‘What’s happened?’
‘Billy, I’m telling you one more time. Stop it. He’s got something called aplastic anaemia, poor mite. Not good. He’s in hospital and his dad’s flown back to be with him.’