Chapter Twelve #3
‘I was only going to stop for a quick drink. Say hello, but then he invited me for dinner. And it was so lovely to see him. I’d forgotten how easy he was to be with. And so English. And the restaurant had a Michelin star.’
It sounded as if she was so homesick and lonely she’d have met him for a Big Mac if he’d asked.
‘I went up to his room for a nightcap and . . . It just felt so good to be held for a change. Someone looking after me. Someone thinking I’m wonderful instead of taking the piss out of my accent and the things I say.’ She put her head in her hands, starting to cry again.
I leant forward and took her hand, squeezing it.
‘I didn’t want to go back to my place. He was home . . . and when he kissed me . . . it felt so right. So I stayed.’
My heart lurched in sympathy. I stroked the back of her hand. ‘So what now? How pregnant are you?’
Kate gave me a wry smile. ‘Totally.’
We both giggled hysterically. She moved to sit next to me on my sofa. I put my arm around her shoulders.
‘Sorry, I . . .’
‘I’ve done four tests and every time that blue line appears.’
‘So, when? I mean how long?’
‘Nine weeks.’
Neither of us said anything. I wasn’t sure what to ask next. The obvious question was, ‘What are you going to do?’ but I wasn’t sure I wanted the answer.
‘Are you going to tell him?’ I asked quietly.
Kate sniffed, put her head up and stroked her neck thoughtfully. ‘There’s no point.’
I took her hand again. ‘Kate, whatever you decide to do, you know I’ll support you, but don’t you think you ought to tell him?’
‘What for?’
‘He’s the father.’
‘Olivia, it’s the size of a coffee bean, if that. I’m going to have an abortion. In Australia. I’ve done some research. They do them up to twenty weeks. Anyway Bill won’t want to know now.’
I stared at her. Surely, she didn’t mean that. ‘He might.’
‘No, I don’t want him to know.’
‘But you don’t have to go back. Stay here. You can’t face this on your own.’
‘I have to go back. If I don’t, Mum and Dad will want to know why.’
‘But you can tell them. Come on, they’re pretty liberal, hardly the “never-darken-our-door” sort. You know they’d be supportive.’
Her breath exhaled noisily. ‘Yeah, and they won’t want to know who the father is? Mum will never stop badgering me. The worst thing is they know Bill. They really like him. Knowing my luck, they’ll tell him or insist I do. He’s playing in your bloody Codgers match next week.’
Shit, I’d forgotten he’d be there. How was I going to face him knowing this?
‘But—’
‘Olivia. I’ve made my mind up. I have to . . . have an abortion and I don’t want him to know.’
‘But why not? He’s a decent guy. He ought to know.’
‘Because . . .’ she started to cry again.
‘Because,’ I prompted.
‘I made a mistake.’ She paused, looking at her hands.
‘All that time when I worked for him . . . I really didn’t fancy him.
You saw what he was like . . . never dressed properly.
He ran a bloody plumbers-merchant, for God’s sake.
That’s why I went to Australia. To get away.
When I saw him out there, he was just Bill.
All those times I’d turned him down. Been rude to him.
Ignored him. And he was still prepared to look me up, take me out and look after me.
I realised that night . . . I’d really missed him. ’
‘So what’s the problem?’ It sounded as if she really did feel something for him.
‘I panicked.’
‘You,’ I said.
‘Yes. My whole life is a mess. I ended up working with tradesmen who swear like troopers, with a boss who’s self-made and would do anything for me.
What happened to working in the City and being swept off my feet by a sophisticated banker or lawyer in a Hugo Boss suit?
Bill thinks the height of fashion is a pair of Johnnie Boden cords!
I thought by going to Australia I’d get away from all that. Make a fresh start.’
‘But, Kate, you were good at that job. I thought you enjoyed it.’
‘I did. It just wasn’t where I thought I’d end up and now it’s too late. Bill probably hates me.’
‘Why? He spent so long chasing you and then he saw you in Australia.’
‘Take it from me. He hates me and even if he doesn’t, I don’t stand a chance with him now. I’ve really messed up.’
It turned out that the morning after they’d slept together, Bill thought that they’d got something going but Kate had had too much time in the night to think and in her usual blunt way had quickly disabused him of that idea.
‘But you could explain—’
‘Olivia. The timing couldn’t be worse.’
I stared at her. I was obviously missing something. Her eyes filled with tears again.
‘He’s just been picked to play rugby for England, hasn’t he? All of a sudden he’s a big hero. Doing some modelling. A celebrity. So how’s it going to look if I roll up and say actually I’ve changed my mind, I would like to see you and by the way, I’m having your baby?’
I could see her point but I still didn’t think going back to Australia was the best plan.
‘Couldn’t you stay here and have an abortion? Cancel your flight. Don’t go back.’ A tear began to roll down my cheek.
Kate tightened her mouth and straightened up.
‘Olivia, I have to.’ She turned and looked at me.
‘If I stay any longer someone might realise. Mum’s already suspicious.
Besides I’ve got a good job over there. Nice flat.
I just need more time to get used to . .
. you know, the culture. But I want you to do something for me. ’
‘Anything.’
‘Don’t come to the airport to say goodbye.’ She managed a sad smile and with a tissue dabbed my tears away. ‘I know what you’re like. You’ll get upset. Give the game away to Mum and Dad.’
‘But I won’t see you after tonight.’ I sniffed. ‘You fly the day after tomorrow.’
‘Yes, but now I’ve told you, it’s a bit of relief. It’s been so—’
The knock at the door startled us both.
‘Who?’ she asked.
I shrugged my shoulders. I had no idea. Could it be room service? ‘I’ll get rid of them.’
‘I need some tissues. I’ll . . .’ She cocked her head towards the bathroom and disappeared inside as I went to open the door.
Daniel stood there, a tentative smile on his face. With so much emotion swirling around me, for a moment I wanted to hurl myself into his arms and let him take care of me the way he had at the hospital.
‘I heard you didn’t get in to the premiere. Sebastian texted. Wondered if you wanted . . .’ his voice faltered, and I followed his gaze over my shoulder as it fixed on the pair of champagne flutes on the table. His mouth snapped into a firm straight line and his eyes flashed with sudden emotion.
‘You’ve got company.’ He shook his head, a sneer twisting his face. ‘I should have realised. I hope he’s worth it.’ He spat the words and looked me up down.
My mouth flapped feebly, the words completely lost. He looked so furious and disgusted with me, my heart raced. I put my hand out and touched his forearm, to make contact and slow him down.
‘Daniel?’ My voice wobbled.
He shook my hand off as if it was contaminated and then he wheeled around and stormed off, his long strides eating up the distance back to the lift.
Finally I managed to get my vocal chords back under control. ‘Daniel,’ I cried. ‘Stop. I can . . .’ Even to my ears it sounded a terrible cliché.