Chapter 29
Eighteen Years Earlier
Blythe hated being pregnant. She couldn’t for the life of her see why so many women delighted in waddling about, wearing oversized clothes and meeting up for coffee with women with whom on the surface, they had little more in common than being in the same reproductive boat.
How could anyone spend an hour discussing the merits of terry cloth nappies over disposables?
It seemed there was no end to this nightmare she found herself thrust into.
It was as if she’d stepped into an alternative universe of pregnancy yoga, folic acid, Silver Cross prams and feeding pillows.
She couldn’t even begin to get started on the heated debate over whether breast is best and those sisters who failed by virtue of finding themselves having for whatever reason, to use formula feeds.
Of course, she’d known all this was going on in the village.
After all, it had been her brainchild – the Expectant Mother’s Day Afternoon Tea for all the pregnant women on the island.
She’d started it three years earlier, a way of filling up the hotel on a quiet afternoon.
They held it in the conservatory at the back of the hotel.
Oh, how blissfully unaware she’d been of what it felt like to be one of those women, when she’d been calculating how much extra income this brilliant idea could bring in on an annual basis once she got it up and running.
The women, of course had loved it. Sitting there, guzzling tea and stuffing themselves with cucumber sandwiches and cake while they looked out over the back of the hotel at her grandfather’s garden.
Blythe had taken the conservatory in hand herself.
It was one of those places, she’d always loved it, but over the years, Pappy seemed to forget it was there.
She had painted it up in a soft shade of lilac, laid down quarry tiles she’d ordered from the mainland and dug out a variety of old tables from the unused stables.
It took almost a month of scrubbing, cleaning and painting after all her other work was done.
There still wasn’t an electric light bulb in the place, but in the evenings, she dotted candles on every surface.
Sometimes, when it felt as if the hotel slept, she slipped in here and looked up at the stars.
Those moments were heaven. Even now, sitting here, listening to the incessant babble of the other women, she felt a swell of pride when she surveyed the results of her hard work.
This year, when it had been her turn to join the group (it would be churlish to refuse and it would only be this one time, she had no intention of getting pregnant again) she took an attitude, as she did with everything else during her pregnancy, of ‘grin like a vacant lunatic and bear it until it’s over’.
She’d been sitting there; at the head of the captain’s table, admiring the way Rae had set everything out for the afternoon, with gleaming crystal and silverware, baby pink and blue napkins and a massive garland of the freshest blossoms suspended from the ornate ironwork above the table.
The scent of the flowers overtook any of the other aromas that might create a nausea among the guests.
It seemed all of them were set off by something, if it wasn’t the coffee, it was the food.
Blythe wondered if in fact she’d got off lightly, once her morning sickness was behind her.
It felt as if they were sitting in a summer garden, such was the cascade of hydrangeas, roses, gerberas and delphinium all plucked from Pappy’s garden.
She was almost enjoying herself, because she’d ended up sitting next to Allendra Simpson-South, whose husband had just built the most monstrous holiday home on the southern tip of the island.
Fiona Dixon would be green with envy, she was hell-bent on making best friends with the affluent newcomers.
Allendra was the only child of an Italian industrialist millionaire.
The couple were working their way through her fortune, with indoor and outdoor swimming pools and a helipad so they could flit across to their summer home without recourse to the tidal times.
Allendra was admiring the ancient grape vine that had survived in the conservatory for decades, despite being all but ignored for many years, when Blythe looked up to see Marcus watching her through the open doors leading out into the garden.
The sight of him surprised her. He was supposed to be on the mainland.
Heaven knows, Rae had kept Blythe and half the village, probably, informed of his comings and goings whether she wanted to know or not.
But it was not the fact that he was standing in the garden watching her that made her start, rather it was the expression on his face; unreadable, ominous, almost. She instantly wondered if something had happened.
But then, as if she’d imagined it, his whole countenance lightened, and he waved at her and walked down towards the stables at the end of the garden.
‘Redundant.’ Rae told her that evening. ‘They just handed out notice to their top people and let them go, no advance warning, nothing. Apparently, they’ve got new staff to come in and…’
‘But surely, they can’t just…’ Blythe wanted to say more, but Rae was so upset. Her mind still raced ahead, because she knew that people don’t just get ‘let go’ – not without a good reason.
‘Huh?’ Rae shrugged, unaware of the warning bells suddenly going off in Blythe’s head. ‘Anyway, Pappy said if he wants to stay on here for now, he’s welcome.’
‘Here?’ Blythe repeated, suddenly blindsided.
‘Oh, don’t worry. As soon as you’re up and running after the baby is ready to let you out of its sight, I’m sure that everything will be as tip-top as you like it, but for now, I think Pappy is just glad to have an extra pair of hands around the place.’
‘I’m pregnant, not dying, I can take on extra if we’re under pressure,’ Blythe snapped. It was driving her mad, this thing with Pappy. Each day, as Marcus grew closer, Pappy pushed her aside a little more, not allowing her to run the hotel as she had always done.
‘Pappy wants you to take care of yourself for now, we all do…’ Rae soothed her, which made Blythe feel an uneasy tremble of fury creep over her.
Later, Blythe would look back on that day, as truly, the beginning of the end.
At the time, however, the shifting of familiar landmarks in her life were subtle.
So, subtle, you’d hardly notice at all. To be fair, Blythe hadn’t argued too strongly when her grandfather insisted she take the mornings off and rest while Marcus and Rae took over the breakfast rush.
‘They’re well-fit for it. Sure, hasn’t Rae been your right-hand woman since she was able to carry a plate to the table.
’ He’d winked at her, when she made sounds, as if she didn’t feel as though she was at hell’s threshold every morning when she woke up.
The truth was, even if she wouldn’t admit it, the mornings had been horrendous.
They still were, if she didn’t take her time about them.
In the hotel, the smell of morning fry-ups made her nauseated beyond anything she’d ever experienced.
Honestly, by the end of her second trimester, she really thought if she saw another plate of bacon and eggs, there was a good chance she’d turn the whole place into a vegan-only hotel.
‘Well, if you’re sure…’ she said demurely, and she’d honestly never felt so relieved.
‘Absolutely, just take it easy for the next few weeks, we have a wedding to get through, after all.’
‘Of course.’ She had little energy for organising her own wedding, she’d be happy with something very simple.
Hadn’t she organised more weddings than anyone else on the island?
The gloss had long worn off an expensive day and a lot of fuss.
Kip was the same, he really didn’t mind what happened, so long as they were together.
*
‘At least Marcus will be here now,’ Rae said one evening when she arrived back from the hotel.
It was summer holidays, and she was still waiting for her leaving cert results.
She was hoping for a place in college, so far as Blythe knew, although they hardly talked about that now.
‘Oh, Pappy, says I should take a year out, just until everything settles down,’ Rae said breezily when Blythe mentioned it.
‘I think it was Marcus, really, who put the idea in his head,’ she laughed at that, a funny nervous sound that made Blythe stop what she was doing and look at her sister.
‘Is that what you want?’
‘I suppose, I’m fine with it. I mean, it’ll still be there next year and for now, the most important thing is you and the baby.’
‘God, Rae, for once and for all, will you please get it into your head, I’m having a baby, not a lobotomy.
I don’t expect you to put your life on hold for me.
I certainly don’t intend to change my plans all that much for it.
’ Blythe wished everyone would stop behaving as if life as she knew it was coming to an end, just because she was pregnant.
‘I’m not putting life on hold. I mean, I’m happy to take the year out, Marcus is still here and…
’ She had that dreamy look on her face again that Blythe wanted to swipe at with every unreasonable bone in her body.
It was just her hormones, she adored Rae, this irritation with her happiness was not jealousy.
Blythe was determined; she would not allow it to be that.
‘You’re eighteen Rae, there’ll be plenty of time for getting serious about boys a few years from now, when you have your qualifications and…’
‘I know, I know, but Marcus says…’
‘Marcus says a bit too much, if you ask me.’ Blythe muttered under her breath.
‘Well, just as well I’m not asking you so, isn’t it?’ Rae said and she flounced out the door and banged it hard behind her.