Chapter Thirty
‘Sorry I was so long,’ said Cassie, shutting the door behind her and putting her umbrella in the umbrella stand, having already shaken it outside.
‘But the queue at the post office was a mile long. Only one counter open, of course, because obviously it was lunchtime and the most popular time for anyone in town to want to use its services. And then,’ she continued, while shrugging off her wet coat, ‘it’s as if after all the good weather we’ve had before now people have forgotten how to walk in a straight line when it’s raining.
You wouldn’t believe the number of times I was pushed into the gutter. ’
‘You should have waited until the rain eased.’
‘What, and not have anything to complain about, where’s the fun in that? You know I can’t function unless I have something to moan about.’
Nina laughed. ‘That’s why I hired you.’
‘And I love you for it, my darling! It’s great fun being your part-time office junior, it’s a lot more interesting than being on my own doing my website work.’
‘I don’t think Jakob ever saw himself as the office junior,’ remarked Nina.
‘No,’ said Cassie with a sly grin, ‘I’m sure he didn’t.’
Nina tutted. ‘Any more comments like that and I’ll have to fire you.’
‘And I’ll report you to HR for unfair dismissal.’
‘Good luck with that!’
Their exchange reminded Nina of a similar exchange with Jakob; it had been the day he’d suggested they go for a drink together after work.
How long ago that hot July summer’s evening at the Anchor now seemed.
And how misguided. For if she hadn’t said yes to him, she would never have agreed to his subsequent suggestion that he be her plus-one for the wedding and everything that followed.
One simple error of judgement on her part and look what it had set in motion – Hilary had experienced a total meltdown, Keith had left her, and Jakob had handed in his notice.
The last she’d heard from Jakob was that he was in Oslo and he was sorry to let her down by leaving the way he did, but he was sure she would agree with him that it was for the best, all things considered.
He’d added a postscript to his email along the lines that his parents were keen for him to join the family firm, just as they’d always expected him to.
‘Perhaps it is time for me to be the dutiful son’, he’d written.
Nina had emailed back saying that she wished him well in whatever he decided to do.
She said nothing about missing him in the gallery, or that some of the regular customers often asked after him, as well as some of her fellow shop owners in St Anne’s Court who had been used to seeing him around.
She supposed that if Jakob really was going to be the dutiful son he would sell his house in Cambridge, there would be no reason to keep it on if he was to be permanently living back in Oslo.
She was embarrassed to admit it, but she had checked Rightmove once or twice to see if the property had gone on the market.
‘What would you like me to do next?’ asked Cassie, breaking into her thoughts. ‘What about those invoices in your in-tray, shall I deal with those upstairs?’
‘That would be great. Thank you. I have a backlog of emails to deal with, but first I have a shipment to Canada to sort out. Then I need to decide on a date for the next exhibition in the run-up to Christmas.’
Cassie groaned. ‘Oh please, don’t start talking about Christmas, it’s surely much too soon, we haven’t even had Halloween yet.’
‘Hardly too early. I’ve already organised the gallery Christmas card at the printers, I did that in August.’
With Cassie now in the upstairs office, Nina settled herself at her desk to do the necessary paperwork for the charming Helen Allingham watercolour that would soon be on its way to Toronto.
The couple who had bought it had been on holiday touring around the UK and had instantly fallen in love with the painting.
It was another favourite of hers and Nina would be sorry to see it go, but business was business.
Letting things go was much easier in her work life than it was in her personal life, but she was making progress with the latter.
Following her visit to see Hilary three weeks ago, when she had informed her mother-in-law that she would not be using the embryos stored at the clinic, she had finally decided what should happen to them.
A family conference on FaceTime with her parents and brother and sister-in-law had helped chase away what remained of her indecision.
They completely appreciated the moral dilemma in which she found herself and could see it from the many perspectives involved, and gave her the space and time to air all her doubts and what-if scenarios.
Her parents had never once applied any pressure for her to provide them with any more grandchildren, but then as her brother had once joked, his own children were quite enough for any grandparent to deal with.
She could have chosen the ultimate altruistic option and donated the embryos to be used by other couples desperate to have a child, but selfishly Nina didn’t want to spend the rest of her life wondering if there was a child of hers, and Hugh’s, out there in the world.
A child who might one day want to know Nina.
She couldn’t bear to live with that uncertainty, the not knowing.
And what if that child accused Nina of not wanting them, of her having given the child away like an unwanted parcel?
Donating the embryos for fertility research appealed even less to Nina. Hilary had shown her disgust at the idea by likening the process to a Frankenstein experiment and Nina was not without sympathy because if she were entirely honest, she too felt slightly squeamish at the thought.
Which left her with only one solution, the only one that would bring an end to the dilemma once and for all.
She wished she and Hugh had discussed this part of the process in more detail when they’d embarked on the process of IVF, but the question of death had been very far from their thinking at that stage.
Then it had been all about life, not death.
What to do with unwanted embryos had been briefly touched on at the clinic, but it had seemed so hypothetical, one of those way off in the distance things they wouldn’t have to deal with.
Last week she had given formal instructions to the clinic to dispose of the embryos.
She had hoped to feel a sense of relief, but it had yet to come.
If it ever would. But it was done, and it was time to let go of the enormous weight of the decision that had hung so heavily over her.
There was no going back now, it was time for her to concentrate on her future.
This was something that she had implored Cassie to do ever since she and Ben had returned from their time away with the wonderful news that they were going to marry.
‘You must stop focusing on what’s going on now with Rosalyn and Finlay,’ Nina had said. ‘Look to the future when your life gets back to normal, and you and Ben marry. Rosalyn and Finlay won’t be with you forever.’
‘But it feels like we’ll never be rid of them,’ Cassie had said miserably.
‘I wish I had an office to go to,’ she’d then said.
‘At least then I’d be able to escape Rosalyn and the cloud of doom she carries around with her.
Which is cruel of me, I know, but I can’t help it.
And then there’s Emily, she’s still intent on blaming me for her not knowing her father better when he was alive.
As though I could have done anything more! ’
Nina had suddenly seen a way to help Cassie, and herself too. ‘Why not come and use the gallery as an office?’ she had suggested, ‘there’s a room upstairs which you could use and maybe you could help me out now and then.’
‘But I thought Keith was helping you?’ Cassie had said.
‘No, that’s all stopped now that he’s moved in with Diane in Ely. He has better things to do with his time these days.’
‘He didn’t hang about, did he?’ commented Cassie.
That was putting it mildly in Nina’s view, but as much as she’d wanted to caution Keith not to be too hasty, she really didn’t think it was her place.
The next morning Cassie joined Nina at the gallery with a smile on her face and a spring in her step. No sooner had she organised her workspace with her laptop upstairs, than she was down in the gallery with Nina, answering the phone, making drinks, running errands, and chatting with customers.
‘You are managing to do your website stuff, aren’t you?’ Nina enquired some days later, feeling bad that maybe Cassie was prioritising the novelty of helping in the gallery over her own work.
‘Oh, don’t worry about that, I’m going through a quietish spell. It’s fine. Being here with you has been the perfect distraction. Just what I needed.’
Now, and after Nina had dealt with the backlog of emails, she steadily worked through everything else on her To Do list.
She soon had everything done, all except for speaking to the artist whose work she wanted to exhibit in the run-up to Christmas. The exhibition was going to be entitled Echoes of the Fens, and she was sure it would prove popular. She was about to ring the artist when her mobile rang; it was Keith.
‘How’s my favourite daughter-in-law?’ he asked.
‘I’m very well, thank you. And how is my favourite father-in-law?’
The greeting was a new way of addressing each other and had started when he’d moved out of her guest room and in with Diane. The exchange had a falseness to it, as though they were both playing a part.
‘I’m extremely well,’ Keith replied, ‘but I was wondering how you got on last week with the clinic and how you’re feeling about it now.’
Nina had told him what she’d planned to do and was surprised he’d thought to ring her about it. ‘I’m fine,’ she said, which sounded carelessly dismissive of her, but what else could she say?
‘That’s good,’ he said, ‘and for what it’s worth, you’ve made the right decision and—’
‘Please, Keith,’ she said, stopping him short as a tightness suddenly filled her throat, ‘don’t say any more, I want to put it behind me now. Besides, I’m at work and therefore … ’ Her voice trailed off as the tightness increased.
‘Of course,’ Keith said, ‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have blundered in like that. You were on my mind, that’s all.’
‘That’s okay,’ she managed to say, just as the door opened and a couple came in, their umbrellas dripping on the wooden flooring. ‘I’ll speak to you another time.’
She ended the call, shocked that she had reacted in the way she had, that from nowhere her emotions had bubbled up and threatened to spill over.
Her head lowered and pretending to focus on the screen of her laptop so she could compose herself, she listened to the couple grumbling that everything on the walls was stupidly over-priced.
Feeling more herself, Nina asked if they were looking for anything in particular.
She knew full well they weren’t interested in buying anything she had for sale.
They’d probably only come in to shelter from the rain.
‘Not at these prices,’ the woman answered rudely.
Nina smiled politely and said no more. They left, leaving the door wide open.
Nina got up to go and close it and saw that the rain was coming down even harder now.
Looking out of the window, she saw that the cobbled street, slick with rain, was deserted and she doubted there would be any more customers that afternoon.
She was back behind her desk when Cassie reappeared.
‘Invoices all done,’ she said brightly, ‘and I’ve even done some website work, so I’m feeling very virtuous.’
‘Good for you,’ Nina said. ‘I was just wondering whether it’s worth staying open any longer, punters are few and far between with this awful weather. You’re more than welcome to go home if you want.’
Cassie grimaced. ‘I’d sooner stay here than face what’s at home.’
She plonked herself behind the other desk and swung to the right and then to the left in the swivel chair, much like a child would.
‘You’re going to have to sort things out with Rosalyn,’ Nina said. ‘She can’t expect to stay with you indefinitely. It’s not fair on you.’
‘You try telling Emily that without starting World War Three.’
‘Maybe Ben should be the one to do it.’
‘He’s already said he’s happy to be the bad guy.’
‘Let him do it then.’
Cassie frowned. ‘Are you trying to get rid of me?’
‘No, of course not,’ Nina said with a laugh. ‘I’ve enjoyed having you here but your generosity towards Rosalyn can’t be indefinite, surely she has to accept that. Emily too. After all, you have a wedding to plan.’
‘You’re right, I know you are. I also know that I’m the one who must talk to her, not Ben. I wouldn’t do that to him. Indirectly, I’ve caused the problem, so I’m the one who must put it right.’
As much as she was encouraging her friend to do it, Nina didn’t envy Cassie the task ahead of her. ‘Have you decided on a date yet?’ she asked.
‘What, when to talk to Rosalyn?’
Nina smiled. ‘No,’ she said. ‘Your wedding.’
Cassie shook her head. ‘Ben and I want life to feel more normal before we set a date.’
‘What about the venue, have you given that any thought? These places get ridiculously booked up, years in advance some of them.’
‘Not really,’ Cassie began, just as Nina was distracted by the ping of an email arriving on her laptop. Force of habit made her look to see if it was important. She did a double-take when she saw who it was from.
It was Jakob.