Chapter Twenty-nine
Fortunately, Victor appeared double-quick, once I called him. He didn’t need specifics, just told me he’d leave straight away. I managed to compose myself enough in the ladies– so there was some truth in my story after all– to greet Maite and Dexter and paste on a smile worthy of an Oscar-winning actress when I returned to find Ella standing on the promenade with them. I made enough small talk to pass muster, I think, but I was like an automaton, programmed with certain pre-prepared responses. I was never so glad than when the ordeal was over. Sweat ran down my back as I grasped for the right thing to say, when all I really wanted to say was, ‘You’re having my boyfriend’s baby. Congratulations, but your timing sucks.’
When Ella, Victor and I arrive back at the sanctuary, the others are still awake and sitting around the firepit. I try to act as naturally as possible, but it’s hard. How can I stay when even seeing Dexter with Maite on the beach provoked such a strong reaction in me? And that’s before the baby arrives.
As if sensing something is up, Mariangeles, Federica and Javier circle us as we settle down with the others around the firepit. Mariangeles relays how we got Victor out of a tight spot when we called as they were doing a foodie quiz and he was losing, something that incensed him greatly.
Javier jumps in, ‘You know how territorial he gets about Costa Rican cuisine in particular. I think only my mother knows more about it. But Victor doesn’t like to be beaten, and for once, I remembered everything she taught me.’
His face breaks into a wide grin as Victor, having parked the truck, joins us. ‘Ready to go again, Victor? You’re only eight points behind. We waited for you.’
Victor swats the air as if Javier is an annoying insect. ‘You got lucky. I’m just finding my second wind. Bring it on. But first, I need a beer.’
‘Oh, are you bringing your A game this time?’ asks Mariangeles, minx that she is. She winks at the rest of us as Victor doesn’t dignify her with a response and instead heads indoors.
‘Anyone else want one?’ he calls as he reaches the men’s lodgings. A few cries of, ‘Yes, please,’ go up, and I hear his disgruntled, ‘Hmph.’
The everyday antics of my adoptive family make me smile and for a nanosecond I forget my woes. Right now, I don’t want to think. I’ve spent too much time in my head already the past twelve hours or so.
When Victor returns, he pulls up a chair and sits down beside me, and the quiz recommences. I chip in where I can, albeit my knowledge of Costa Rican cuisine is still pretty limited. Fortunately, there are some international questions and I manage to redeem myself when Spanish and Italian food questions come up.
It’s a good way of passing the time, and I think how wonderful it would be to stay here, doing this night after night, with my friends. The Costa Rican way of life is so chilled, and the weather is warm pretty much all the time. I mean, I don’t need to be out sunning myself every day of the week– I’m no sun-worshipper– but I could seriously get used to not having to live through Scotland’s inability to abide by the seasons. Scotland is such a beautiful country, probably because of the amount of rain we get; I just wish we didn’t have quite so much of it. The lack of torrential rain of a morning definitely sets me up better for the day. It’s like those very rare days in Scotland when we get beautiful sunshine and all feels right with the world. That’s how I wake up every day here– well, almost. Unfortunately, things can go downhill during the day.
It’s not long before tiredness creeps over me and I stifle a yawn as I answer my question on which city Baci chocolates come from. Easy. Perugia. Not so easy, staying awake.
‘Guys, I’m going to call it a night. I’m done in.’
Secretly, my emotions are mixed. On the one hand, I’m relieved Dexter hasn’t shown up and I’ve had to pretend everything is OK, but on the other hand, my brain keeps flicking through images of what he and Maite could be getting up to. He is the father of her child, after all.
‘I’ll come with you.’ Mariangeles jumps to her feet, but she has that glint in her eye which means she is about to give me the third degree, albeit in a well-meaning fashion, and I’m not up to it right now.
‘No, stay. If we both leave, the teams will have uneven numbers.’
Glancing back at the others, reluctantly she concedes this, and after saying, ‘If you’re sure,’ she sits back down when I nod in confirmation.
As I trudge over to the women’s lodgings– hard to summon a skip in my step when I feel like I’m going to the hangman’s noose at the gallows– I make up my mind. I know what I have to do.
An hour later, despite my yawns, and wishing I had coffee to keep me awake for this, the deed is done. I’ve emailed Glasgow uni and accepted my place. I’ll text Becca in the morning to avoid waking her. It’s nearly six in the morning there, but I know she likes her sleep and I’ve already broken it too often recently. At least one person will be happy with my decision. It took a while to find flights that weren’t extortionate, given I want to leave in a week. I hate letting Carlos and Sofia down, but honestly, I’m not sure I’d be much use to them. The hardest part between now and then is going to be avoiding Dexter, naturally, but also coming to terms with everything I’m leaving behind. I wonder if I can cram in a visit somewhere amazing before I go. There’s so much of the country I still haven’t seen.
My thoughts turn to Dexter once more. I’m doing the right thing, not just because it’s hard for me to see him and Maite together, but if he has a chance at making a go of his little family, then it would be wrong of me to stand in the way of that. I’m not that person.
Next morning, I wake to the sound of voices in the women’s rec room. I strain to pick out who’s speaking. Roisin. And Federica.
I catch snatches of their conversation ‘…must be difficult…’ Federica. ‘…it’s a complicated set-up, all right.’ Roisin. ‘Wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy.’ Roisin. ‘Unsurprising that he’d want to support her.’ Federica.
Are they talking about Dexter and Maite? Oh God, I can’t even get away from it here. As I sit up and run my hand through my bird’s nest of hair, my heart beats faster. This is going to be harder than I thought. How am I going to get through a week of this? Then it occurs to me; how am I going to tell the others I’m leaving? I should really tell Carlos first, since I could be leaving him in the lurch, but my heart knows I need to tell the girls first. Not Roisin necessarily, although things have definitely improved between us since the incident at the beach, but the others are like sisters to me. I gulp. I’d have loved sisters. Or a brother, for that matter. But it wasn’t to be.
How to broach the subject of my departure? Mariangeles, at least, will try to talk me out of it. There’s always one, isn’t there? Always one who won’t blindly accept others’ decisions when they know how conflicted the person is, and I’m nothing if not conflicted.
I rub my hand over my face. I need coffee. Best to face the music sometime. I’ll wait until Roisin has gone. Because , a little voice tells me, you’re scared she’ll be pleased that you and Dexter can’t be together because of the baby .
With great effort, I will myself out of bed and pad across to the door, from where I hear two other voices mingling with those of Roisin and Federica. Ella. Mariangeles. The whole gang, bar me. Well, here goes nothing.
‘Morning,’ I say breezily as I enter, wrapping my silk dressing gown around me.
‘Morning.’ Federica eyes me warily then glances at the rest of the group.
The others bid me good morning, their unsure demeanours almost comical.
‘Coffee?’ I ask.
‘It’s made,’ Mariangeles pipes up.
I smile as I rest my hand on her shoulder. ‘I meant, did anyone want one?’
That earns a yes from Ella, a no from Mariangeles, who raises her cup to confirm she already has a full one, and a no from Federica, whose cup lies empty on the table.
‘I’m just going,’ Roisin says. ‘I told Victor I’d meet him before breakfast. We have that new section of fence to put up.’
Relief washes over me that I won’t have to engineer a way to discuss my decision with the others out of earshot of Roisin.
Once she leaves, we all huddle around the round table. Would I be going home if I didn’t have a university course to start in September? Who knows? I’ll never know what percentage of my final decision was due to the blow that Maite unwittingly dealt me and how much was down to getting into uni.
Ella eyes me uncertainly. It’s like she knows I have a revelation to make. She, more than the others, knows what’s on my mind. Has she told them? Gauging from her expression, I don’t think she has. I decide to take some of the weight off her shoulders, as I’m sure she feels a little burdened by all of my crap– it’s the only word for the collective nonsense that has been my life the past month and a half.
‘Guys, I have something to tell you… I’m going home.’
Immediately, there are outbursts and protests and much haranguing in rapid-fire Spanish. It’s so quick I don’t follow much of it, especially from Mariangeles. I catch snatches of what they’re saying, a bit like I did the whispered conversation earlier this morning. I struggle to keep up, until Ella lays a calming hand on Mariangeles and another on Federica. Again, the irony of the youngest being the calming influence isn’t lost on me.
‘Let Kat explain,’ says Ella.
The other two shoot her incredulous looks as if to say ‘you knew!’
After they both nod their assent, I begin the tale of how an error led to me being told months ago that I hadn’t got into the course to study veterinary medicine. They listen, rapt, jaws falling open, eyes wide, unable to believe I’ve kept this from them.
‘But I thought you were happy here ,’ Mariangeles puts in.
‘I am. I was,’ I say quickly. ‘But things have changed.’
Mariangeles frowns. ‘What’s changed? You can’t leave. I’d miss you too much.’
My heart soars and aches in equal measure. Please don’t let her make me cry now.
‘And what about Dexter?’ asks Federica. ‘He’ll be gutted if you leave. You’re getting on so well together.’
They can’t be this clueless, can they?
‘Federica, in case you hadn’t noticed, his pregnant ex-girlfriend turned up yesterday.’
‘Of course I noticed.’
‘But they’re not together any more, Kat,’ says Mariangeles.
Ella, I note, remains quiet. She already heard everything from me last night.
‘Well, I’m not going to stand in the way of them raising their child together!’ I say hotly. ‘That’s not who I am.’
Federica and Mariangeles exchange a look before Federica says, ‘Do we know for certain that the baby’s Dexter’s?’
I blow out a breath in frustration. ‘Yes! He’s going to the scan with her. I heard Dexter telling Carlos yesterday, and he mentioned being the father.’
‘He did?’ Mariangeles’ forehead scrunches up. ‘Are you sure?’
About to boil over, I say, ‘I know what I heard.’
‘What you think you heard.’
I jolt upright and spin round to see Roisin framed in the doorway. Unable to help myself, I scowl. ‘How long have you been listening in?’
If she’s upset at my accusatory tone, she doesn’t show it; instead she says, ‘Exactly what did you hear?’
‘What does it matter? I can’t remember the precise order of the words, but I know Dexter’s going to the scan with her because–’
Roisin cuts me off. ‘Because her boyfriend’s away on a business trip to Asia for two weeks, which unfortunately coincides with the time of her scan and she doesn’t want to go alone?’
My mouth drops open, as does Ella’s.
It takes me a couple of seconds before I’m capable of speech. ‘What?’
‘Maite’s boyfriend works in international sales. He’s at a trade show in Hong Kong right now and is doing a week-long tour of Asia immediately afterwards. He couldn’t get out of it.’
‘Maite’s boyfriend?’ I parrot back at her.
When Roisin nods, I say, ‘And you know this, how?’
‘Because I had a thing with her boyfriend’s brother about six months ago. Sweet little thing. He couldn’t handle me, though.’ She smiles.
I try to formulate questions, thoughts, but my brain is having difficulty working. Finally, I manage, ‘But why Dexter?’
Roisin smiles again. ‘Because despite breaking up, they were always good friends. They didn’t break up because they didn’t love each other, but because they realised they were better as friends than, well, lovers. They weren’t suited well enough for that type of relationship.’
Cogs whirr in my brain, causing me no end of agony. I’ve jumped the gun– again. I’ve booked a bloody flight home, without even having spoken to Dexter about all this. I’ve accepted my place at uni. I cover my face with my hands. Why am I so damned impulsive? Or is it not entirely my fault? Is it more that I’ve been treated so badly by boyfriends in the past, Aidan, in particular, that I have trust issues? Maybe I don’t think I deserve happiness.
Shit! What am I going to do now?