Authors: Nell Dixon
****
Evan watched from his mother's front door as the red taillights of Jerome's car pulled away. It had been good to meet up with his old friends. It had been even better to see Nathalie again. He turned the key and let himself into the darkened house, trying not to make a noise.
“Is that you, Evan?” His mother appeared from the kitchen, a china mug in her hand. She had changed into her nightwear.
“Yes. I thought you'd be in bed.”
“I just got up to make a drink and to check on Polly.” His mother smiled at him.
“Is she all right?” His heart jumped. If anything had happened while he'd been gone, he would never forgive himself.
His mother hastened to reassure him. “She's fine. I heard her cough, but she's okay now.”
“I'll go up.”
Evan crept upstairs and pushed open the door to his daughter's room. His pulse settled when he saw her eyes shut tight in sleep, her small face flushed and healthy in the soft glow of her nightlight. Relieved, he closed the door and headed for his room. Polly had been the both the joy and worry of his heart since the day she'd been born. Now that he had sole charge of her care, he worried about her ill health all the time.
Â
Â
Evan watched as Polly ate her breakfast the next day. “Are you sure you don't want some toast, Poll?”
She swallowed a small spoonful of cereal and shook her head. “I'm full-up, Daddy.”
Evan frowned. She had such a little appetite, it was no wonder she looked so pale and slim. “You'd better get your coat and shoes then, if you've finished. We're going to look at some houses today and see if we can find somewhere nice to live.”
“Somewhere I can have a pony?” Polly slid down from her seat, her small face hopeful.
“We'll see.” He would willingly give his daughter the moon if it would make her well. He helped her put on her coat before bending to fasten her shoes.
“Can Pookie come too?” Polly asked as she reached for the tattered and much-loved rag doll that accompanied her everywhere she went.
“I suppose so,” Evan agreed. Since the divorce, Polly had clung onto her doll even more than before. He worried that she might miss her mother, now that he'd moved back to his hometown. Polly rarely talked about Laurel, except at bedtime when she said her prayers, when she would sometimes ask God to bless Mummy.
Evan wondered how long it would take his ex-wife to remember she had a daughter and pay them a visit. Usually Laurel only called when her modelling work became thin on the ground and she hoped to squeeze some money out of Evan.
He picked up the list of particulars from the estate agent and smiled at Polly, who waited with an eager expression by the front door, her beloved Pookie tucked under her arm. Maybe they'd find the perfect house today â a new home and a fresh start for them both.
****
Nathalie woke in the morning with the all-too-familiar spasms of pain in her stomach. She opened the drawer of her bedside cabinet for her tablets. At least the pain had held off till after the wedding. With any luck, if she swallowed the painkillers straight away, she would be all right for the remainder of the day.
She made her way downstairs to the kitchen, massaging her stomach gently as she walked. Her calendar hung on the wall by the fridge, the hospital appointment ringed in red ink. Nathalie poured herself a glass of orange juice and swallowed her tablets.
She already knew what her gynaecologist would say. They'd exhausted all the medical options, and a hysterectomy was the last solution. She padded through into the lounge and curled up on the settee, tucking her long, slim legs underneath her. Min, her cat, leapt up beside her, butting Nathalie's hip with her sleek brown head and demanding to be fussed.
“Oh, Min, what am I going to do? I don't want this operation, but I've no life at the moment. I can't carry on the way I am now.”
The cat purred a deep, low rumble of agreement against her thigh. Nathalie sighed and took another sip of her juice. If Evan hadn't left all those years ago, perhaps things would have been different. She might have been lucky and had a child of her own. Who knew?
Now it was too late.
“You're right. I should stop feeling so sorry for myself.” Min stared at her with unblinking green eyes. Nathalie smiled and caressed her pet. At least she had her fur baby to keep her company. It was a waste of time to speculate on what might have been. She could only make plans from where she was now.
Nathalie felt better after an hour's rest, during which her tablets had started to relieve her discomfort. The weak winter sunshine warmed the windowsill where she'd placed Jenni's bridal bouquet. The scent of roses had already filled the lounge with rich perfume.
She stroked one of the deep red velvety petals. Whoever caught the bridal bouquet would be the next to be married â at least, that was the old wives' tale. Except getting married usually involved having children, forming a family.
“Oh, this is ridiculous! Nate gets married, and I turn into a miserable old maid living alone with a cat.”
Min blinked at her from the sofa. Nathalie decided to take a walk down by the river to work off the unsettled feelings that had possessed her ever since she'd set eyes on Evan again.
Still tired after yesterday's festivities, she opted to dress for comfort in a soft, warm tracksuit and padded pink jacket. Jerome always told her she looked like a marshmallow in her coat, but despite the sunshine, the February winds by the water's edge would be keen. She bundled her black hair under a knitted hat, pulled on her gloves, and set off.
Fortunately, it had been a dry winter. The river had stayed within its banks, and the sun tempted several people out onto the riverside walk near the new shopping centre. After she'd walked for twenty minutes in the fresh air, Nathalie slowed her pace and dawdled along, watching couples out walking with their dogs and the families with small children feeding the ducks at the water's edge. Absorbed in the scene around her, she startled when a familiar male voice called her name.
“Hello, Evan.” Her heart hammered in her chest as she realised the cool air had probably given her pink cheeks and a red nose.
“I thought it was you. I couldn't be sure, though, in that coat.” He grinned at her.
“I was just walking.” She stopped in her tracks, annoyed with herself for feeling she had to justify her appearance to him.
“Looks nice and warm,” he said, his face bland.
“It's a pretty colour,” a small voice added.
Nathalie tore her eyes away from Evan, realising he held the hand of a little girl whose wide blue eyes were just like his. Nathalie's breath caught in her throat, and her face must have revealed her bewilderment.
“Nathalie, this is my daughter, Polly. Polly, this is a friend of mine, Nathalie.” Evan performed the introductions as Polly continued to stare unblinkingly at her.
“Nice to meet you, Polly.” Nathalie forced her brain into gear and smiled at the little girl.
“We were on our way to view some houses, but one of the properties on the list has changed their minds about selling. We decided to come and see the ducks for half an hour before the next viewing,” Evan explained.
“We haven't got any duck food.” Polly gazed at the birds on the riverbank, her face wistful.
“Oh, we can fix that,” Nathalie said. “If we walk up these steps to the café at the top, the owner keeps bags of scraps so children can feed the birds.”
“Could we, Daddy? Please?” The child tugged at his hand.
Evan glanced at his watch. “I suppose there's time. Can we buy you a coffee, Nathalie? You look pretty cold.”
She hesitated. Part of her wanted to spend more time with Evan, but the other, more sensible, part knew it was a bad idea. “I am a bit chilly. Thank you. A coffee would be nice.”
Alongside Polly and Evan, Nathalie walked up the steps that led from the riverbank, wondering why she'd agreed to a coffee. She'd opened her mouth fully intending to refuse his offer. He collected two lidded cups and a bag of crusts from the hatch window of the small timber building, and they made their way back to the water's edge.
Nathalie hid a smile behind her cup at the sight of Evan with Polly's doll tucked under his arm, supervising his excited daughter as she fed the greedy river birds. It amused her to watch the confident, macho Evan she remembered, turning to putty in the hands of a small child. She wondered how old Polly was. Four? Five? Six?
The last number made her take too big a mouthful of coffee, and she coughed as the hot fluid burned the back of her throat.
“Hey, are you all right?” Evan took his attention from Polly for a moment, his dark blue eyes meeting hers.
“I'm fine. I forgot this was so hot.” She felt the colour creep up her cheeks.
“Thanks for telling us about the café. Polly hasn't had so much fun in ages.” Evan tucked Polly's doll further under his arm and took a sip of his coffee.
“She seems a lovely little girl. How old is she?” Nathalie's heart bumped against her ribs. She sensed the answer to her question might well give her the key to Evan's sudden disappearance from her life.
Evan paused to take another sip of his coffee before he answered her. “Polly will be six in a few months' time.” His eyes told Nathalie as much as his words.
“I see.” Pain twisted in her heart like a knife.
Evan frowned. “No, you don't, Nathalie. We need to talk. There are things I need to explain.”
She finished her coffee and dropped the cup into a nearby rubbish bin. “I really should be going. My parents are expecting me for lunch.” As much as she wanted answers, reasons why he'd run out on her, she didn't think she could cope with hearing them right now.
Evan sighed as Polly skipped back toward them, scrunching up her empty bread bag. “Tali, let me call for you at your parents' house later. We could go for a drink.”
The use of her teenage nickname and the plea in his voice made her relent. She felt torn between the need to know and the fear of dredging up past pain all over again. “Okay. I'll be at Mum and Dad's till about six.” Even as she agreed, she wasn't sure she had done the right thing.
“I'll see you later.”
Polly put her rubbish in the bin and took back her doll. She waved goodbye to Nathalie as she and her father turned to walk back toward the car park.
Nathalie made her way home deep in thought. Why had she agreed to meet Evan for a drink? Discussing the past would more likely reopen old wounds than provide her with the closure she craved. If she'd had his phone number, she would have been tempted to call and tell him she'd changed her mind.
By the time she reached her house, Nathalie realised she was late. She raced inside to tug off her hat and tidy her hair, pulling a face when she saw her pallid, makeup-free complexion in the hall mirror.
****
Jerome opened the door when she arrived at her parents' house. “Mum was just about to ring you.”
“I got held up.”
He raised his eyebrows. Nathalie had a reputation for punctuality, so her late arrival for lunch had been bound to cause a stir.
“Must have been something important.” Jerome followed her down the hall as she took off her coat to hang it on the peg.
“Not really. I just got talking to someone and lost track of the time.” She shooed him away.
“Oh, so it was
someone
important, then.”
She glared at her brother as, with his shoulders shaking with laughter, he disappeared into the lounge.
“Is that you, Nathalie?” her mother called from the kitchen. Her faint French accent still sounded distinct even after all the years she'd spent living in England.
“Hi, Mum. Sorry I'm late.” Nathalie walked through into the large, sunny room to find her mother bustling around the oven with a spoon in her hand.
“Be a love and strain those vegetables for me,” her mother directed, stirring the gravy as she spoke.
Nathalie did as her mother asked, straining broccoli and carrots into the china tureens ready to place on the dining table. “Have you heard from Nate and Jenni?” she asked.
“Nate called from the cottage to say they had arrived safely.”
“The wedding went off well, I thought.”
Her mother gave her an enquiring glance. “Yes, it was lovely. Your father had a nice talk with Miss Oakes at the reception.”
Nathalie flushed. Miss Oakes was her gynaecologist, a colleague of her father's at the hospital. She knew her surgeon wouldn't breach doctor-patient confidentiality, but her father must have detected that something was afoot.
“I have an appointment with her next week.” Her mother knew about her problems, but Nathalie had kept from her how bad the situation was, hoping not to worry her. Both her parents knew the probable outcome of her condition, but her mother had always been the more optimistic of the two.
“Do you want me to come with you?” her mother offered as she poured gravy from the saucepan into a gravy boat.
“No, Mum. I'll be fine. I'm a big girl, and I can take care of myself.” She felt a twinge of guilt as she refused the offer. She would have liked some company, but she knew her mother wouldn't approve of her decision to press ahead with the operation.
“If you change your mind, let me know.” Her mother her gave her a quick hug.
“I will.” Nathalie picked up a tureen to carry into the dining room. Her mother still clung to the hope that some new drug would appear on the market to solve Nathalie's problems and avoid the inevitable, drastic step of surgery.
Once all the food was on the table and everyone was seated, Jerome resumed his probing about Nathalie's late arrival. “Must have been an interesting
someone
you were talking to, Tali, to make you late for lunch.” He helped himself to a large spoonful of potatoes and grinned at her from across the table.
She gritted her teeth and smiled sweetly. Of all her brothers, Jerome always knew which button to press to wind her up. “Not really.” She helped herself to some peas.
“Nice of Evan to drop by yesterday,” Jerome remarked.
“Yes, it was good to see him again,” her mother agreed. “I heard he planned to move back here.”
Nathalie concentrated on her lunch. Jerome was just trying to provoke her. He, like the rest of her brothers, remained unaware of how hurt she had been when Evan left.
“How long has it been since he was last here?” her father asked.
“Six years, isn't it, Tali?” Jerome mused.
She rested her knife on her plate and picked up her glass to take a calming sip of wine. “Must be.” She felt proud of her composure.
The conversation around the lunch table reminded her too keenly of her promise to go out with Evan that evening. What a stupid decision on her part.
“You and Evan always seemed to get on so well, Nathalie. We must ask him over for dinner one evening.” Her father smiled at her.
“Um, well, actually, he's picking me up from here later.” She wriggled on her seat. “We're going out for drinks.” Jerome smiled smugly, and Nathalie wrestled with the childish impulse to kick him under the table.
“You must have lots to catch up on. I heard in town that he has his little girl living with him.” Her mother took a sip of wine.
“Yes. Polly.” The words were out of her mouth before she could stop herself.
Jerome helped himself to more potatoes. “Did he tell you about his ex?”
Nathalie could tell by Jerome's expression that he longed to impart some interesting piece of information. She would not give him the satisfaction of appearing interested. “Evan's private life isn't any of my business.”
“Then you won't want to know he was married to Laurel Hunter.”
Nathalie stared at her brother. He had to have made a mistake. Laurel Hunter was a big name in the fashion industry, appearing on all the covers of the glossy magazines. Nathalie had never read anything in the press about the woman having had a child. “Laurel Hunter is Polly's mother? They don't look at all alike.”
Her parents looked at her in surprise. “I wasn't aware you'd met Evan's little girl. When did you see her?” her mother asked.
“We met today, down by the river.” Nathalie blushed, kicking herself for blurting her thoughts out loud.
“Laurel wasn't famous when she met Evan. In fact, she was just plain âLaura', then,” Jerome informed her.
Nathalie couldn't imagine the glossy blonde model the press had dubbed the “Ice Princess” being married to Evan, let alone being Polly's mother. Although she
had
wondered why Evan had custody of his daughter and where Polly's mother was.
Nathalie's father collected the empty dinner plates to make room for dessert, and Nathalie helped her mother with the dishes. All the while, her mind tried to digest the information Jerome had given her. She longed to find out more about Evan's life over the last few years. He had left her high and dry six years ago, and now, not only was he back with a child, but his ex-wife was a glamorous model.