Baby's On The Way!
‘Okay, so it sounds kind of weird. I’ll warn you, it might get weirder. I just wanted to touch the wood. It was as if I could see, no, feel, something beneath the surface. So I got some tools and started carving. It was as if the wood came to life under my fingers, and I found something beneath the surface that no one else could see until I revealed it.’
‘You’re right. Weird.’
He laughed.
‘In a good way,’ Rachel clarified, bumping Leo with her hip as they walked along. ‘Weird, but cool. And there’s a market for this? Secrets lurking in driftwood.’
‘I know, it surprised me, too.’ Leo smiled, thrilling at the energy Rachel’s smile and teasing could create in him. ‘But there is. A bigger one than I’d imagined, actually. Enough for me to put down a deposit on a shell of a house and to keep me in tarpaulin until I stumble upon some roof tiles. Anyway, we’re here,’ he declared as they rounded a corner and the studio came into view.
* * *
She ran a hand along the workbench, and enjoyed the sensation of the wood—warm, dry and gritty on the soft pads of her fingers. It was like meeting Leo afresh, seeing this room, and for the first time she was aware of how much she’d underestimated him. One glance at his beach-ready hair and surfers’ tan and she’d written him off as a beach-bum trust-fund kid.
But this room showed her how wrong she’d been. It wasn’t just the evidence of how much work had gone into the place—hours to fit out the studio: floor-to-ceiling window panels, cupboards and work surfaces. It was the art itself, each piece like a little peephole into Leo’s character. Almost every surface carried pieces in various states of completion. The centre of the room was dominated by an enormous piece of wood. It must have been three feet across, and was nearly as tall as she was. And it seemed to be moving. It wasn’t, she saw as she moved closer. It was just light playing over the wave-like carvings that made it seem that way. Constantly changing; constantly keeping her guessing. As she took another step closer she realised that it wasn’t just one piece of wood, it was many, woven and flowing together. She wanted to glance across at Leo, to tell him she thought it was beautiful—more than that, it was astonishing—but she couldn’t drag her eyes away. At last she reached out, wanting to feel the waves and light beneath her fingers, but Leo gently grabbed her wrist and stopped her.
‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have just—’
‘Normally I’d say touch away. But I treated the wood this morning. So, what do you think?’
She finally managed to pull her eyes away from the piece and flicked her gaze up to his face. He looked a little anxious, she realised, as he waited for her verdict on his work.
‘Leo, it’s beautiful. I had no idea.’
‘Ah, well, you know, I only come down here when the waves are rubbish.’
He was still standing close, his fingers still wrapped around her palm, and she pushed him lightly with her other hand. ‘If I remember rightly, you told me you “sort of” had a job. I’m sorry, but this isn’t sort of anything. You are an artist.’
He nodded. ‘Like I said back on the beach. This is worth the scavenging, then?’
She nodded, her gaze fixed back on the waves, trying to see what it was that made the solid wood seem to shift before her eyes. Leo finally nudged her with his hip—‘Earth to Rachel. I’m glad you like it. Really, I am.’
Suddenly she was aware how close he’d stepped to stop her touching the sculpture. How his hand still gripped hers, although it must be minutes—longer—since she’d dropped it away from the driftwood.
Though she’d felt hypnotised by the piece, it slowly filtered through to her that it and Leo couldn’t be separated. The beauty of his work was part of who he was. And something about that made her feel as if she didn’t know him at all. Didn’t understand him. As if she no longer understood the situation they found themselves in.
She turned her face up to his, and tried to see the Leo she thought she knew in the features of this talented, passionate artist. She thought back to how quickly she’d written him off as spoiled and undisciplined when he’d told her he “sort of” had a job, and could have kicked herself for that lazy assumption. If she’d taken the time and care to actually ask him more about himself, she wouldn’t be so blindsided now.
She’d turned her body when she looked up at him, and could almost feel the attraction pulling them together. He seemed taller—much taller—when she was in her flats, and from here she had a perfect view of his broad chest and shoulders, courtesy, no doubt, of hours in the water. Leo seemed to be studying her as closely as she was him, though she wasn’t sure why. He wasn’t the one who’d just had his entire perception of their circumstances change—again. But the intensity of his gaze was intoxicating, and she found that once her eyes met his she couldn’t look away.
‘I’m sorry—’ Rachel hoped that speaking out loud might break the dangerous connection. Help her to re-establish some sort of calm. But Leo laid a gentle finger on her lips.
‘You don’t need to apologise.’ The finger was replaced by a thumb, which rubbed across her lower lip, bringing sensation and longing with it. She felt her flesh swelling beneath his touch, ready for his kiss, begging for it. And Leo was reading the message loud and clear. He dipped his head, and Rachel let out a little sigh, remembering all too clearly exactly what one of Leo’s kisses promised. As she breathed in, and got two lungfuls of his salty, sea-tanged scent, she was tempted—God, so tempted—to forget the last point she’d made in her plan. The one she’d set in red, bold and underlined: NO SEX.
Leo’s lips brushed against hers and she turned her head, so his kiss grazed across the corner of her lips and her cheek. She stifled a groan, half kicking herself for writing that into the plan, and half impressed with herself for making a decision when she was thinking more clearly than she was right now. Because she strongly suspected if she hadn’t had a plan to follow in that moment, she would have been in serious danger of repeating past mistakes.
She took a deliberate step away from him, still not quite able to trust her commitment to her plan. Leo raised an eyebrow in question when she finally lifted her face to meet his gaze.
‘I’m sorry. I should have been clearer before now.’ Rachel took another step away and leant back against one of Leo’s workbenches to steady herself. ‘I enjoy your company, and I’m glad we’re getting to know one another. I hope that we can be friends. But that’s all that’s on the table—friendship.’
Leo’s hands dug into his pockets and he watched her from under heavy brows. ‘You enjoy my company?’ She could sense embarrassment washing over her features at the slow, deliberate way he spoke the words, conjuring memories of every pleasurable moment of their first and only night together.
His voice was low and gravelly as he spoke again. ‘I would have thought a decision as important as that would have been in your plan.’
She opened her mouth to tell him that if he’d made it to the last page, he would have seen, would have known that it was. But he obviously read her expression too well and finally lost his serious look, bursting into an unexpected laugh.
‘You did! You wrote “no sex” into the plan. You astound me, Rachel, honestly.’ Except he looked more amused than astounded, what with the laughing and everything.
‘It’s important to know where we stand,’ she told him, a little offended, if she was honest, that he could laugh so soon after their aborted kiss.
‘Well, consider me well informed.’
Shouldn’t he be a bit more...disappointed? Rachel thought as Leo walked over to the other side of the studio and started sorting through a stack of driftwood and bric-a-brac in one corner. It didn’t make sense, the hollow, sinking feeling in her belly. Because a purely platonic relationship was exactly what she’d wanted. But Leo’s easy acceptance of her rejection was as good as a rejection in itself.
‘Here they are. I knew there were a couple in here.’ From the pile he pulled two glass bottles, similar to the one she’d just plucked from the beach. ‘They look nice together, don’t you think? Perhaps for the windowsill in your room?’
He lined them up on the bench, but she was more interested in why he’d been so keen to walk away from that kiss. He was the one who’d started it, wasn’t he?
‘So you’re happy to just be friends. You’re not interested in anything more.’ She tried to keep the words casual. To show only the friendly interest her head told her was reasonable, and not the roiling discomfort her heart demanded. ‘Because I think if there’s anything we need to talk about, we should do it now.’
The smile actually dropped from his face, and he looked a little worried, she realised.
‘“More” is an interesting concept.’
Interesting? Of all the words she would use to describe what happened when they went for ‘more’, interesting would not be high on her list.
‘If “more” is another night like that one back at your place, then I’m all for “more”. As much “more” as is on offer.’
She actually felt her cheeks warm again—she’d not blushed like this since she was a girl.
‘But I suspect that for you, “more” is something, well...more than that. If we can’t do one without the other, then you’re right. Friends is best.’
And again with the sinking disappointment. So he wouldn’t mind more sex, but he didn’t want a relationship with her. Well, then, they were in perfect agreement.
‘Back to the house?’ she asked, faking a jollity she didn’t feel. ‘My train’s in an hour, so I probably need to make a move.’
‘Of course. Don’t forget your bottles.’ She scooped up the antique glass and with a last look at the sculpture in the centre of room, she swept out.
‘What’s the hurry?’ Leo jogged up the path behind her, lagging behind because he’d had to lock up the studio.
‘Oh, I didn’t realise I was.’ A lie, of course. Because much as she knew that she couldn’t allow herself to want a relationship with Leo, as much as the thought of being involved with someone who was happy to live with no roof till the right tiles came along filled her with dread, she still wanted a little time and space to lick her wounds. Just because she’d decided not to want him didn’t mean she didn’t want him to want her—however ridiculous that might be.
As they turned the corner and the house came into view, the sight of it made her feel better and worse at the same time.
‘So the roof,’ she said, as Leo overtook her along the path and held out a hand to help her over a small crop of rocks. ‘Is there a...?’
‘A plan?’
‘Yes.’
‘No.’
Not exactly what she wanted to hear. No, she didn’t technically get a say in how he wanted to renovate his home. But if she were to come back here—and they were having a baby, how could she not?—it would be nice if the place was watertight. And there would be a baby before next summer. She was reassessing the way she made decisions, the way she relied on her plans, but was it unreasonable to expect that there might be a roof to sleep under?
‘Don’t worry, Rachel. The roof should be done any time now. I can absolutely promise it’ll be finished by the next time you visit. The floor, too.’
She laughed, though still wasn’t convinced. ‘Sounds like luxury. So...I’ll see you in London in a couple of weeks, for the scan? Do you want me to book you a hotel? I don’t have a guest room. But you’re welcome to my couch.’
‘Don’t worry; I’ll sort somewhere to stay.’
‘Are you sure? Because I—’
‘I don’t need you to organise anything. Relax. I’ll take care of it. Do you want a lift to the station?’
‘Oh, no need. I’ve already arranged a cab.’
He gave her a smile she wasn’t sure how to interpret. ‘Of course you have.’
CHAPTER EIGHT
‘SO THIS “NO-SEX” THING. Remind me again, what kind of a rule are we talking about—a law, guideline or EU directive?’
Rachel shot Laura a look over her decaf Americano. It still took her by surprise sometimes that her slight, quiet, almost mousy best friend could cut to the chase quite so sharply. Laura had been thrilled for Rachel when she’d seen how happy she was about the baby, but too fascinated by far by her relationship with the father. ‘Why are you bringing this up now? It’s whichever one of those means that it’s not happening. Ever.’
‘I’m bringing this up because I’m about to meet him for the first time and you still fancy him.’
She took a couple of deep breaths, until she was sure she could speak impassively. ‘He is quite attractive.’
Laura rolled her eyes. ‘He got you home from that party. I’m willing to put money on him being pretty special.’
Okay, so she was crazy to think she could pull the wool over her best friend’s eyes. ‘He’s gorgeous, all right. I freely admit that he’s gorgeous. But that wasn’t why...’ She trailed off, not wanting to incriminate herself by admitting to anything other than the most carnal feelings about Leo.
She glanced at her phone again, wondering what was taking him so long. All he had to do was show up. How hard could it be? So hard that the last time they’d had a scan appointment he’d called with a barrelful of excuses and then missed the first look at their baby.
With ten minutes to go before their previous appointment, she’d hit redial again and again. Voicemail. It had gone straight through to his messages ever since Leo had lost signal as he’d passed through a tunnel the last time he’d called. Two hours before. He couldn’t have still been in that tunnel, so there was no reason for it not to have rung. She had tried to fight her anger down—it hadn’t been Leo’s fault that floods had closed all the train lines from the south-west. That the motorways had been clogged. That trees had been blown down and were blocking roads. But none of that changed the fact that she had needed him, and he hadn’t been there. She needed a partner, her co-parent. She’d been excited for weeks about the scan, counting down the days until she would get a first glimpse of her baby. But in those past few hours since Leo had called with the news about the trains, all she’d been able to think about were her fears—what if the stick had lied to her, and she wasn’t pregnant after all? What if they saw there was something wrong with the baby, if there wasn’t a heartbeat? What if she had to face bad news without him?
She had hit redial again—and still there had been no response.
Checking the time as she’d hung up, she had taken a deep breath and squared her shoulders. She had to do this one on her own. Not that she’d had a choice; those last few hours had taught her something she should have faced long before then. She couldn’t rely on Leo. It didn’t matter how enthusiastic he was about the pregnancy, how good his intentions had been, she had to rely on herself, and no one else.
She’d gone into the ultrasound room alone and upset. The first glimpse of her baby should have filled her with complete joy, and it had; it was magical, emotional. But she hadn’t been able to help but feel the loss of Leo by her side. When he’d finally arrived, Leo had promised her that he’d tried everything humanly possible to get there, but now, with less than five minutes to go until she was meant to meet him for their second scan, she was becoming nervous. What if he let her down again? What would she do if she couldn’t trust him to be there when she—when they—needed him?
This time she’d asked Laura to come with her, to give her the support she knew she couldn’t rely on Leo for.
‘Oh, now, this is interesting.’ Laura dragged her thoughts back to their conversation. ‘This is new. If you didn’t take him home because you were mad for his body, then this is something else entirely. I thought you told me that it was a moment of lust, not to be repeated.’
‘It was!’
‘No.’ Rachel waited as Laura took a long sip of her coffee, and could practically see the words flying behind her eyes as she picked through them carefully, analysing, choosing an angle. ‘You just said, or didn’t say, that isn’t true. So, what was it about him that caught your eye, other than his “quite attractive” looks? I know you, remember, and I know you don’t make decisions like that at the drop of a hat.’
Rachel thought back to that night—the way Leo had teased her and made her laugh, made her relax. Fooled her into thinking that just for a night she could change her plan with no repercussions.
‘He made me laugh; we were having a good time. I didn’t expect—’
‘For him to start baking in your oven.’
Rachel coughed as her coffee made a bid for escape through her nose.
‘Thank you. Beautifully put.’
‘Seriously, though.’ Laura placed her coffee carefully on the table and held her gaze with a shrewd look. ‘Are you sure that “just friends” is really the answer? You like him.’ She held up a firm hand to stop Rachel’s blustering protests. ‘You can deny it all you want and I still won’t believe you. And you have no reason to think that he doesn’t like you, either. But you’re not going to even explore what there is between you?’
‘The baby—’
‘Is the perfect excuse to give it a go, not run from it. So what is it that scares you about him?’
She stared into her drink for a long minute, trying to capture everything that Leo made her feel. The exhilaration of that night, the glimpse of a more relaxed life, the freedom when he made her laugh. The terror of everything she knew, understood and believed about her future suddenly being ripped away. ‘Be honest with me. Do you think there’s something...not right...about the way I like a plan, a schedule?’
Laura didn’t drop her shrewd expression, though her eyes softened. ‘Yes. Truthfully, I don’t think it’s healthy how anxious you are without one. And if you’re starting to see that, too, perhaps now is a good time to be thinking about making changes. I hate to break this to you, darling, but there’s no hiding from chaos now. You’re going to have to find a way to—’
‘No.’ Rachel choked the word out of instinct, her gut revolting at the thought of that inevitability. And then felt instantly bad for snapping at her friend. ‘Yes. I’m going to try. But the baby’s enough chaos. Leo’s just too much, and I can’t trust him to be there when I need him.’
‘You really are nervous.’ Laura smiled, giving no hint that she was offended by her best friend snapping at her. ‘It’s cute. I don’t think I’ve seen you nervous before.’
‘I’m not nervous.’
‘So the father of your child, the man you found literally irresistible five months ago, is going to show up in this coffee shop in ten minutes’ time, and you’re not even slightly nervous? Rubbish.’
* * *
Leo raced across the pavement, determined to get to Rachel before the second hand hit twelve, to prove to her that he could be the partner, and the parent, that she needed him to be. He’d barely seen her since the last scan. A couple of lunches in London, that was all, the last time just a coffee when he’d been in the city to meet with Will about the Julia House sculpture.
She claimed she hadn’t been able to get a weekend off since that first time she’d been down in Dorset. But he knew the real reason, that she was still angry and upset that he’d missed that scan. And of course he could understand that. But he’d tried everything he could to get there on time. He’d hired a car when all the trains were cancelled. He’d waded through floodwater when the car had got caught in a soaked back lane and had conked out. He’d begged and bartered for lifts into the city, and when he’d finally made it, fourteen hours after leaving his house, he’d apologised until his voice was hoarse and she’d told him to stop. He just wanted to make things right, which, despite her assurances the last time he saw her, he knew they weren’t.
He swung open the door to the coffee shop, and there she was. Her hair shiny and straight around her shoulders, a mug clasped in her hand, and, framed by her propped elbows, a neat little bump. His breath stopped at the sight of her. And then he saw that she wasn’t alone, and his heart sank.
‘Hi,’ he said, as he walked up to the table, sending Rachel a questioning glance. He looked at the other woman and held out his hand. ‘I’m Leo.’
She’d brought a friend to their ultrasound? There was only one reason he could think of that she would do that, and it made him cringe in regret. She couldn’t trust him to be here. He’d let her down, and she wasn’t ready to forgive.
‘Leo, this is Laura.’
He watched the loaded look that passed between Rachel and her friend, and tried to translate it. You want me to leave now he’s here?
He stood awkwardly as they gathered bags and finished coffees. The silence between him and Rachel stretched out onto the street, through goodbyes with Laura, down the corridors of the hospital, and into the waiting room. She maintained a clear foot of space between them, and every time he tried to close it, it pushed her further away. It was a relief when the sonographer appeared, breaking the tension in the hushed waiting room.
‘Rachel Archer?’
He risked a small smile at her as they walked into the ultrasound room, and then didn’t know where to look when Rachel pulled up her top and the technician tucked blue paper into her waistband. The sight of her skin gave him goose bumps, as he remembered how soft it had been under his lips and his body. Looking up at the ceiling, he took a deep breath, reminding himself that this really was not the right time to be thinking those thoughts. In fact, Rachel had made it more than clear in every strained silence since he’d let her down that there was no right time for those thoughts—and he had agreed with her, at least at first.
Because he shouldn’t want anything more than friendship from her. He was already getting so much more than he had wanted. One night with this woman had already brought one lifelong commitment. A thought that still made him breathless—and not in a good way. It was crazy to embark on anything romantic, because what else could that bring other than more commitment? They could hardly date and see how it went. Because where did they go when one of them realised that it wasn’t going to work out? Or what happened if she started thinking about a future and a ring, and he started to sweat? They should just concentrate on being the best parents that they could be, and try to be friends, as well.
But, God, she looked delicious. Her body curved in new places, her breasts were bigger, and her belly rounded. His child was growing in there, he thought, his mind boggling. He dragged his eyes away, though, realising suddenly that it probably wasn’t brilliant form to ogle someone while they were in hospital, whatever the reason.
That thought sobered him. Because this scan wasn’t just a chance to wave at the baby and hope that he or she waved back. He’d been reading up about what they should be expecting. And so he knew that the ultrasound was done for serious reasons, that it was for the medical professionals to check for health problems. That thought gripped him with a twist of anxiety and without thinking he reached for Rachel’s hand. She flinched, though whether it was from him gripping her hand or from the gel being squeezed on her belly he couldn’t be sure. But she squeezed his hand back and looked up to meet his eye. When she gave a little smile, he realised that she was as nervous as he was.
He watched the screen as the technician manipulated the ultrasound wand, and saw black and white shadows moving. He squinted, trying to make out what was what, but it wasn’t until the technician pointed out the tiny head and limbs that he finally understood he was looking at his child. His son or daughter.
He’d spent so long thinking about all the ways his life had to change now, about the fact he’d woken up one morning and found himself painted into a corner, forced into fatherhood whether he wanted it or not, that he’d never stopped to consider that he and Rachel had done something so...so...miraculous. It was the only word he could grasp as he looked at the tiny life on the screen. A whole new life, created from nothing but the urgent, overwhelming desire of that night.