4. Iris
Iris
F rom the jetty at the bottom of Gully’s garden there was a clear view of the lighthouse, known informally as Thane’s lighthouse, although Thane didn’t live there anymore and hadn’t for some time. I’d taken photos of it in many different lights and in many different weathers, even though I’d only been here for three weeks. Four seasons happened regularly in one day, usually a gentle rotation, although there was occasionally a dramatic change when a storm rolled in.
Those were the nights when Gully and I stayed up late talking. We’d watch the storm, or even head down to the jetty if it was safe, sheltering in a covered area that Gully had manufactured with Finn to keep me dry if I was being stupid enough to take photos when it rained.
It was known now that Gully and I were planning to have a baby. Known within the circles of his brothers and their wives, and the friends that came as part of the package.
There had been questions, a couple of very direct ones from Ruby, clearly protective over her brother-in-law. Amelie had greeted me with a big hug and the words, “I know and I wish you all the love and luck,” and that had been it.
Nothing else had been said after the first storm of questions, a lot of it about the process, along with the jokes about Gully’s right hand being put to good use.
Which it had, a week ago.
After a week of talks – there hadn’t been much else we’d talked about – we’d booked an appointment at the clinic Ivy had chosen to freeze her eggs, had various meetings online and a couple of local appointments privately before heading to London for a few nights. We’d visited the clinic, I’d been issued with various drugs and injections and instructions, and Gully had deposited his sample.
He'd made no secret of what he was going to do with his brothers, and the piss-taking had been merciless, which had been exactly what we’d needed. The piss-taking had lessened when we’d found out that Gully’s sperm were strong and decent quality, which led to me getting a text from Ruby, suggesting that Holland men’s sperm was potent and should usually be avoided at all costs. Given that Elias and Elsie were surprises, I understood where she was coming from.
In my case, it was a really good thing.
Two days ago, one of the embryos was implanted into my womb. We stayed another night in London, then made our way back to the island in a painstakingly slow journey because Gully somehow thought that driving like a normal person would have a detrimental impact on me getting pregnant.
Staying pregnant.
I wasn’t sure on what the terminology should be, and right now, looking at the lighthouse across a sea that was choppy and wild, I didn’t understand how I felt.
I knew there was no regret.
Hope. Lots of hope. I’d cried at least five times in the last twenty-four hours, which was stress and hormones and fear and excitement, but I hadn’t let Gully see any of those tears.
Luckily, I wasn’t an ugly crier, so as far as I knew, he hadn’t realised I was currently an emotional ship wreck.
I saw him walking down the garden, a flask in one hand, paper bag in the other. He’d been writing all morning, possibly since before dawn, and I hadn’t wanted to disturb him. I knew from my sister that when inspiration hit, it was best to leave them alone so they could retreat to their writing cave else a growly bear with a sore paw was likely to grump all over the place.
I also wanted to give him space. No one had written any self-help books on what to do when your best friend is your sperm donor for IVF treatment – surely there was a gap in the market for this.
“Hey. I’ve brought you lunch.” He held out the paper bag. “Roast veggies and humous toastie. And tea.” He passed me the flask. “Are you okay?”
I nodded and forced a smile his way. “I’m good. Have you gotten much writing done?”
He shook his head. “I haven’t been writing.”
I frowned. “Oh. I thought you had a deadline.”
“I do.” He retreated under the shelter and sat down on the bench underneath it. “But I can’t write.”
I sat down next to him, the warmth of the toasted sandwich seeping through the paper to my hand.
“Why can’t you write? Want to talk through the plot?” I’d helped Gully out before when he’d been stuck on which way to take a book.
He shook his head. “The book’s not the problem.”
“Oh. Okay.” I took the sandwich out of the bag. It smelt delicious. I’d learned that Gully was a pretty decent cook when he wanted to be, but he only wanted to be when he was cooking for someone else. “What’s bothering you then?”
He swallowed and looked out to the lighthouse, deliberately not focusing on me. “You’re avoiding me.”
I bit into the sandwich, my tastebuds having a little orgasmic dance. “What makes you think that?” He was absolutely right.
“You’re doing everything possible to be wherever I’m not. I want to know why.” He carried on staring out. “Since we got back from London – since, you know, you - ”
“Might be pregnant with your baby?” I looked at him now. I hadn’t realised I was hungry.
“Jesus, Iris. That’s one way to put it.” He looked at me, eventually.
“I need to know why you’re avoiding me. I get it’s intense, we’re kind of together all the time when neither of us are used to that; you’re somewhere new and with new people and there’s a lot going on, and I don’t think this conversation is fair to you, but I need to know if I’ve done something to upset you. I know you’ve been crying loads.” He looked away again. “I don’t know what to do with girl tears.”
I managed to laugh even though my mouth was full. “Girl tears? Really?”
He nodded. “Two brothers. Our mam is fierce and the only time we saw her cry was when someone died. I don’t know what I’m meant to do.”
“What do you do when your nieces cry? Or Fleur and Thane’s girls?” They had twin daughters who were going to grow up to rule the world, although they’d possibly rule it before they’d grown up.
“I change their nappies, feed them or make them laugh. One of those definitely won’t work on you.” His grin was back.
I shrugged. “You never know what hidden kinks adult women have.”
“Please don’t go there. Why’ve you been crying, Iris?” He glanced at me before looking back out to sea.
It was a still day today. The sky was grey and the sea was grey. Most of the Eryri mountain range was shrouded in mist, making the scene look like something from a romantasy novel. I expected to see a dragon fly over the sea at any time, or a merman pop up on the jetty.
It was that sort of day.
“My hormones are all over the place. I have every feeling you can possibly imagine and I don’t know what to do with myself. I don’t want to burden you with those feelings because they’re a lot. And you’re my friend who’s doing me a huge favour. I don’t want you to have to see the messy side.” I knew I had tears again in my eyes and there was no way these were not going to fall.
Gully was silent. The sea lapped at the jetty, waves that should’ve been noisier kissed the wood gently. Light from the lighthouse began.
We were in for a dark evening.
“Why don’t I stay in London until we know?” I wasn’t sure whether I was just filling the silence.
“Categorically no.” His answer was fast and firm.
“Can I ask why?” I forced myself to turn to him.
“Because you’re my friend – my best friend – and even if you weren’t possibly carrying my baby, I’d still want you near right now to look after you - ”
“I can look after myself. I’ve been doing it most of my life, Gully - ”
He nodded, his body turning towards me, his hands coming to rest at the top of my arms.
“I know. But you don’t have to. You can manage fine on your own but you don’t have to and I don’t want you to. If you want to go back to London, I’ll come with you. Fuck, I’ll stay in a hotel if you want space, but I’m not just leaving you to it.”
There was more he wanted to say, I could tell.
“Do you want to go back to London?” His words were quieter.
“No. I like it here. I like the peace and being near the sea. I don’t miss the city. I thought I would, but I don’t.” All of that was true.
“Why do you think you’re burdening me if you’re upset?”
“You didn’t ask for this. You’re helping me out.”
His arm stretched around me, pulling me towards his body in a side hug.
He was warm and smelled good so I moved closer. We’d hugged a lot, especially after the procedure where the team at the clinic had implanted the embryo.
I felt him take a deep breath. “You’re doing me a favour too. I want a baby, Iris, I’m not doing this just for you. I want to be a dad and I’ve been worried for years that I wouldn’t meet someone I could raise a child with. I know you’ve put me on a pedestal because I jerked off and donated some sperm, but you’re the one doing the hard work. I want to be there for you, and that includes if this round isn’t successful.”
I wrapped my arm across his front, shifting as close to him as I could possibly get. “I didn’t realise all of that, I guess.”
He kissed the top of my head. “There’s years of me invested in our relationship – friendship. This isn’t a favour, it’s a choice. A decision. I want you to tell me how you’re feeling, even if there’s nothing I can do about it, I can at least listen.”
I didn’t brush my tears away. But Gully did.
He raised a hand and gently wiped them away with his fingers. “We need to be sociable. We’ve stayed in since we got back from London. If you’re up to it, let's go out.”
“I’m fine and you’re probably right and I need a distraction. I keep planning for all the things that could happen.”
“Trying not to get your hopes up?”
I nodded. “Fourteen more days.” I could take a pregnancy test then.
“I know. I’m trying not to get mine up too. We can’t rush time, ‘Ris. But we are in this together and that isn’t going to change.”
His words were said so sincerely that I broke completely. The crying fits I’d had in the last day or so had been limited in their duration, not wanting to be found out by him, but there was no reason to hide this one.
“Why did you hide in your study if you weren’t writing?” The words were spoken between tears.
“I wanted to give you space and work out what to do. I knew you were avoiding me because you were upset – you’re the shittiest actor, by the way. But I couldn’t pretend to ignore you anymore.” He nuzzled my hair. “Let’s go inside. The fire’s on and I’ve brought a pile of freshly washed blankets in from the dryer. Then we can go to Puffin Inn for dinner.”
I wrapped myself up in him a little longer. “Blankets? Where are they from?”
“Ireland. My mam’s neighbour sent them over. Mam said they needed freshening up.” His arms were wrapped around me now, holding me like he was my lover rather than my friend.
I didn’t not like it.
“Blankets and a fire and dinner in a coastal pub. Seventeen-year-old me didn’t realise this would be what she dreamed of.” I was smiling now, the tears had stopped, just like how the remnants of the wind had settled.
“What did seventeen-year-old Iris dream of?”
“Pop stars and boy bands.”
His jaw clenched. “I could’ve been in a boy band.”
“I know.” It was true. He could sing, like all of his brothers, and he had the sort of good looks that would’ve had girls obsessing over him. “But you weren’t, so this conversation can stop now.”
He touched his forehead against mine, his eyes devilishly dark. “For now.”
We walked to the Puffin Inn even though I offered to drive. Alcohol would be off the menu for some time now. Even if this cycle wasn’t successful, there would only be a couple of months before we tried again and if there was anything I could do to heighten the chances of having a healthy pregnancy then I’d be doing it.
But neither of us had been out of the house today, and exercise was good, so we took the coastal path to the town, Gully helicoptering round whenever the path was slightly uneven, which was completely uncalled for.
I told him such and he chose to ignore me, keeping hold of my hand or his arm wrapped around my waist.
The pub was busy, although Amelie wasn’t around. A few of the holiday parks had opened and it seemed a group of people who lived in them for most of the year had decided to meet up, filling one of the lounges. Roe was there as well, Calla in a pushchair next to him, fast asleep but not looking peaceful.
Gully spotted her and crouched down next to her, checking her forehead with the back of his hand.
“Is she well?” He looked at Roe who closed his laptop and shook his head.
“She’s had a temperature and seems a bit snotty. We think it’s a cold which has turned her into a ratbag so I’ve brought her out for a bit. Fresh air and a change of scenery. Freya’s had clients all day and she was trying to do everything as usual, so we needed to get out of the way.” Roe gave me a quick smile and a nod. “I don’t think she’s contagious – me and Freya are fine.”
“Thanks.” I appreciated that. He knew, of course, where the process was up to.
Process.
It shouldn’t be a process.
If nature had been fair, the process would’ve involved several decent orgasms being held by the potential father after such orgasms, maybe with murmurings about ‘what if’ and ‘in a few months’. Instead it had been a doctor and clinically white rooms, rather than a comfy mattress or a rug in front of an open fire.
Teary eyes opened and looked at Gully. Calla’s arms stretched out and her uncle obliged, undoing the straps and picking her up out of her pushchair, pressing kisses to her soft hair and cuddling her.
She smiled at him, grabbing at his face and his hair.
I was spellbound.
My stomach did the sort of pirouette, that would’ve earned me a ten from judges had it been a performance, and my heart skipped a beat, or several.
Calla buried her head in Gully’s neck, but I heard a giggle and her sad sleeping face became full of smiles.
I couldn’t take my eyes away. I didn’t want to take my eyes away. This man was who I’d chosen to be the father of my child, if all went well, and I knew I couldn’t have made a better choice.
He must’ve felt me watching him, turning round and lifting Calla’s arm so she was waving at me.
“There’s Auntie ‘Ris. Say hi to Auntie ‘Ris.”
Calla babbled at me, an attempt to say Auntie ‘Ris somewhere in there. There hadn’t been any talk about what Gully’s nephew and nieces would call me. This was something to pick up later.
“What do you want to drink?” Gully looked at me. “And eat? I’ll order now but ask for it in an hour.” He turned to Roe. “Is Freya coming here?”
Roe nodded, putting his phone down which he’d been checking. “She’s got one more client and then she’s heading here.” He frowned, glancing at Gully. “Have you seen Mavis this week?”
Gully shook his head. “Not since we went to London. I meant to call in today, but I didn’t get round to it this morning and I thought she’d be here anyway.” He looked around the pub as if he was expecting her to just pop up.
“Freya mentioned that someone in the cakery this morning said she hadn’t been well.” Roe stood up, stretching.
They were carbon copies of each other, something that shocked me every time I saw them together, but they were so different at the same time. Roe was quieter, stiller, calmer than Gully. Gully moved faster, had more to say and smiled more – they were the obvious differences. The more I saw of Roe, the more I realised how different they were.
“She hasn’t been well for a bit.” He glanced at me. “Are you okay if - ”
“Go and check on her.” I held out my arms to take Calla off him. “Put your mind at rest.”
I sat with Calla on my knee, a soft crinkly book keeping her occupied, and her father facing me across the table. Roe had a pint, while I had a hot chocolate and a fresh orange juice. Silence lingered and it didn’t feel especially comfortable.
This was the first time I’d been on my own with Gully’s twin, partly through chance and partly because I’d avoided it. If I was Roe, I’d have all the questions and maybe a lot of distrust too and I hadn’t been sure how I was going to stand up.
“How’re you feeling?” Roe broke the silence first.
“I think it’s easier to say how I’m not feeling.” I tried to give him a smile but it possibly came out as something scary instead. “Worried, excited, scared, hopeful – it’s a rollercoaster. Another two weeks and I can take a test and we’ll find out.”
He nodded, just once. “He feels exactly the same.” Roe glanced towards the door where Gully had exited. “He doesn’t want you or him to be disappointed or upset, and you might not have noticed because he’s trying to be discreet, but he’s looking at you every two point five seconds to check you’re okay.”
I shook my head. “I hadn’t noticed.”
“You wouldn’t. I did the same thing when Freya and I were trying to get pregnant and Gully picked up on it – I think it made him nervous. It’s making me nervous now.”
This was as much as I’d heard Roe speak.
“I want to say that everything will be okay but I can’t say that because I don’t know. He’s done me such a massive favour - ”
I stopped because Roe was shaking his head.
“He wants this baby as much as you, so don’t feel you owe him. He’ll owe you just as much.” He sat back and folded his arms. “He wants you too, or that’s my guess.”
Now I was blindsided. “What?”
Roe’s mouth curved into a tidy smile.
“We’re just friends.” It sounded weak even to me. “Really good ones. Who’re having a baby together.” Calla reached a hand and tugged at my hair. I removed her fist before she removed my hair. “I don’t think he sees me that way.”
“Do you see him that way?”
I felt colour heat my cheeks. “I try not to. He’s my friend.”
Roe’s grin was huge. I hadn’t seen it before, apart from when it’d been cast towards his wife or little girl.
Before he could say anything else, Freya entered the pub looking windblown. Calla struggled in my arms, calling out for her mummy and before I knew it, Freya picked up her and cuddled her as if she hadn’t seen her for days.
“You look better.” She kissed her daughter’s forehead, then leaned down to kiss her husband. “What’ve I missed?”
Roe looked at me, his smile knowing and his eyes twinkling. “Nothing really. Not much at all.”