Must Be Love (19 page)

‘Hello, Bean,’ I murmur, looking down at my stomach. I have to get hold of Alex. How will he take my change of mind? I thought I could be honest with him, and hell, I was being honest when I said I didn’t want the baby, but I should have been more tactful and looked at the situation from his point of view. He’s a dad. He adores his children, and he loves life, his mission being to preserve it where possible, and there I go saying I’m pregnant with your child, our child, and I’m going to have an abortion. I am such an idiot – a selfish, thoughtless cow. Have I gone and ruined everything?

‘Maz? Maz,’ Emma calls from the door into Reception, interrupting my thoughts.

All stressed out like a wasp trapped in a bottle and feeling guilty for keeping secrets from Emma, I clear the screen on the monitor, returning it to the waiting list.

‘Can I borrow the room for a few minutes? Mrs Dyer’s turned up with Brutus. I said I’d fit her in.’

‘Yeah, that’s fine.’ There’s no one waiting to see me. In fact, I feel as if I’ve been stood up. I retreat to Kennels, where the hedgehog has unrolled. It’s thin and flea-ridden, that’s all. There’s nothing broken. I write a note on its record card:
Treat for fleas. Frances to take
.

We can rely on Frances to take in the various forms of wildlife that occasionally turn up at the practice, and care for them until they’re fit to be released.

Izzy turns up with a sleepy cat with a shaved flank and two huge stitches that look more suited to a cow.

‘Drew wants to know if you want him to knock Jack out now he’s finished the cat spay.’ Izzy slides the cat into a cage, checking her breathing and covering her with a towel.

‘That would be great. It’s just a sedate and examine left nostril. Last time I managed to get the bead out with a pair of forceps.’

‘We’ll have enough to make a necklace if he keeps on like this.’ Izzy grins, and I try to smile back, but I’m not in the mood for jokes. My mind keeps switching back to Alex. What must he think of me now after what I’ve said?

I wander back to Reception to ask Frances about the hedgehog, checking my mobile. There are no missed calls, but there is a text and it’s from Alex.

Maz, we need to talk, Ax

We need to talk. What does that mean? I wonder. That we’re still a couple, in spite of our monumental disagreement about the baby, or that he wants to make it clear our relationship is over? A pulse at my temple flutters with hope, then fades. There’s only one way to find out, and I’m texting back, arranging to meet, when I reach the desk.

‘Sometimes it’s good to talk to someone …’ Frances begins hopefully, perhaps noticing my troubled expression. ‘You seem a bit down today.’

‘Not now, Frances.’ I can see I’ve hurt her feelings, but I can’t talk to her because confiding in her means confiding in the whole of Talyton St George.

‘I expect you’ll be seeing Alex tonight.’ When I don’t answer, Frances goes on, ‘I imagine Drew could be persuaded to do your on-call. I’m sure he’s still got a lot of making-up to do for what happened to Mr Victor’s parrot.’

‘Drew’s doing my afternoon surgery.’ I’m supposed to have Monday afternoon free to catch up with paperwork, although I often end up doing the visits instead. ‘And he’s on call tonight.’ Emma asked him to swap with her because Ben’s taking her out tonight for their anniversary, and I think how lucky she is. I know they don’t always see eye to eye – Ben might not have got around to painting the nursery yet, for example – but they are one of the happiest, most together couples I’ve ever met.

Unfortunately, I can’t say the same for me and Alex. I’m going to see him this afternoon, but will it be too little too late?

Drew needs help extracting the bead from Jack’s nose – it’s bigger than the last one – but I get away from Otter House by two, and wait for Alex in the car park at Talysands, leaving my car close to the dunes where small avalanches of sand have escaped the binding of the spiky clumps of marram grass and encroached on the tarmac. I use the narrow wooden walkway to reach the sea wall, where I can sit with my back to the waves that are breaking at its foot, and watch the cars coming into the resort, turning off the main road and disappearing underneath the railway bridge before reappearing again in front of the amusement arcade and shop that sells windbreaks, buckets and spades.

I turn up the collar of my jacket against the blustery wind, wishing I’d brought a hat with me, and kick my heels against the wall to keep warm. In the cracks between the stones, I can see empty shells, a couple of lolly sticks and blobs of tar. I feel out of place, like a camel in the Arctic. Why did Alex want to meet me here of all places?

‘Where have you been?’ I ask when he finally joins me, his hands in the pockets of his long coat. His face is stormy like the sky, and fleeting shadows cloud his eyes.

‘Let’s walk,’ Alex says abruptly, and holds out his arm in such a way that it’s an order not a request.

Deciding this isn’t a good time to argue that I can actually manage to walk without help, I take it, and he marches me off into the wind and down the concrete steps towards the beach, but it’s high tide and there’s just a small strip of sand visible before the next wave comes slapping up against the wall, leaving it shiny and wet.

Alex pauses on the bottom step and gazes towards the grey horizon, the muscle in his cheek taut, as if he’s waiting for another wave to sweep him into the sullen sea.

‘Are you trying to drown me?’ I say lightly, as foam spatters across the toes of my designer boots. (Okay, I knew I should have worn wellies, but when you’re trying to win your man back … )

‘I’d like to sometimes.’ Alex’s voice is hoarse.

Clinging to his arm like a limpet, I look into his eyes, take a deep breath and launch into the speech I’ve been preparing, at the same time as Alex starts to speak.

‘You first,’ he says, taking my hands by the wrists.

‘No, you. Go on.’

He clears his throat. ‘I appreciate that every woman has a choice, that it’s your life –’

Alex. A gust of wind whips his name from between my lips.

‘I can’t be part of it,’ he goes on. ‘My conscience won’t let me.’

I’m still trying to speak, but my voice seems paralysed.

‘I’ve tried to see this from your point of view, Maz. I know it isn’t a great time for you to be having a baby when you’ve just taken on the partnership in Otter House. I know your father left you and your mother struggled to cope, and you’re afraid I’ll abandon you in the same way. I’ve also seen how you are with Lucie and Seb, so I can kind of understand where you’re coming from –’

I try to raise my hand to put it across his mouth to stop him, to shut him up so I can get a word in, but his fingers keep their bruising grip.

‘I’m sorry,’ he says. ‘If you go ahead with this, we’re … finished.’

‘That sounds very much like blackmail to me,’ I cut in, but he silences me with a glare.

‘Call it what you like. What I’m saying is, I couldn’t possibly feel the same way about you.’ Slowly, in the time it takes for the ebb and flow of two more foaming waves, he releases his hold on my wrists and lets his hands fall to his sides.

‘I suppose I should admire your honesty.’ With the taste of salt and the metallic tang of blood on my lips, I reach out and take hold of the flap on his coat pocket. ‘It’s pretty brutal.’

‘Don’t you go accusing me of brutality, Maz, when you’re planning to … to …’ Alex’s voice trails off, then returns, sounding harsh and judgemental over the rush of the sea. ‘Especially when you’ve already decided – without mentioning it to me first – to get rid of our child. Just like that.’ His eyes flash with fury and grief. ‘As if it’s a piece of rubbish. How can you be so bloody hard?’

I shrink back from him. He hates me. I can tell from his rigid stance and the way the muscle in his cheek tautens and relaxes, tautens again.

‘I don’t think you realise how difficult it was for me to make that decision,’ I say.

‘You didn’t have to make it on your own, Maz. You should have come to me as soon as you knew you were pregnant, not kept it to yourself.’

‘You would have tried to persuade me against it, the abortion.’

‘Of course I would, because I don’t believe in it.’ Alex pauses. ‘When you told me you were pregnant, I was shocked and surprised, and excited. It was like you were giving me the best present I’d ever had, and in the very next breath you snatched it away.’

‘I’m so sorry.’ My vision blurs and my lip trembles. ‘I’m sorry, Alex.’

He shrugs, as if it’s too late.

‘Well, I like to know where I stand – let me know as soon as you’ve made your decision.’ He turns abruptly and starts heading up the steps.

‘Alex! Stop!’ I shout after him. Breathless, I catch up with him at the top of the sea wall.

‘I listened to you. Now it’s your turn to hear me out.’

He hesitates, his face etched with suspicion.

‘I’m listening,’ he says over the screams of the gulls overhead.

‘I’m not having an abortion, Alex. I’m going to keep the baby.’

‘That was a sudden turnabout,’ he says, frowning.

‘It wasn’t sudden at all. And I haven’t changed my mind just to please you. To keep you. The other day, I panicked. The abortion. It was the first thing I thought of. Alex, I’ve been so happy these last few months, I didn’t want anything to change. Do you understand?’

‘I think so. Yes,’ he says eventually, and I should be over the moon, but inside I’m aching with remorse and regret because, in spite of his assurance, everything has changed, and I’m not sure we can ever go back.

We stand above the sea, facing each other with the wind blustering through our hair.

‘So, what happens next?’ I say tentatively, my heart beating painfully against my ribs. ‘I mean, are we still …?’

‘A couple?’ Alex finishes for me. He holds out one hand. Slowly, thankfully, I take it, interlinking my fingers with his, and then he draws me towards him, leans down and brushes my cheek with his lips and my spirit soars like a gull above the sea spray, and I think everything’s going to be all right. For now anyway. Until the baby comes.

Alex and I stroll along the sea wall in the direction of Talymouth, stopping for tea and chips further along the beach at a café, where the scent of cold seaweed and hot oil mingles with the odour of wet dog. A sign outside reads,
Dogs Aloud
, and there are sandy boot marks all over the floor.

‘We’ll be just as happy, Maz,’ Alex murmurs, ‘happier than ever. You, me and the baby. It would have happened anyway. One day.’

‘How can you be so sure? I mean, I might hate the baby when it comes …’

‘You won’t.’ Alex smiles. ‘You’ll fall in love with it and forget about me when it’s born. That’s what happens.’

He’s wrong, I think. I’ll probably resent it for the rest of my life.

‘So what next?’ he continues. ‘I take it you’ve seen a doctor.’

‘Not yet. I’ve only just found out.’

‘You’ll need to book in with a midwife too. We’ll go private to get the best possible care, of course. Oh, and it’s always a good idea to book some antenatal classes.’ Alex hesitates as another thought hits him. ‘When’s it due? September? Which means you’ll have to give up work at the end of July, beginning of August.’

‘I don’t
have
to do anything.’ I watch the steam rising from my mug of tea as I continue, ‘I’m planning to work right up to the birth.’

‘You have no idea, do you?’ Alex says, his voice chiding.

‘I’m not giving up work,’ I say, a bit miffed at being patronised. I’m not like Alex’s ex-wife, who was more than happy not to work and swan around with her friends, or so I’ve heard.

‘I’m not saying give it up for good. Listen, Maz, you can work part-time. You can move in with me – there’s loads of room in the Barn. I’ll have the front room next to ours done up as a nursery.’

Move in with Alex? Did I hear that right?

‘Alex, slow down,’ I say, disturbed by the sensation of being rushed into making decisions I’m not ready for. However, his plans for me and the baby keep spilling out.

‘You’ll have to get a new car now – you’ll never fit a pushchair in the back of that sporty little number of yours.’ He reaches across in front of me and slips his hand up under my jacket. I can feel the cool spread of his fingers across my belly and I wonder if the baby can feel them too. I didn’t think he’d be so excited, so overwhelmed when he’s already been through the whole dad thing twice before. ‘I can’t wait to tell everyone.’

‘No,’ I cut in quickly. ‘Not yet.’

‘Lucie and Seb will be over the moon when they find out they’re having a baby brother or sister.’

‘I’d like to tell Emma first.’ I’d prefer she heard it from me, especially as she and Ben took so long to conceive. ‘I’m not sure how she’ll take it. She’s expecting me to look after Otter House while she’s on maternity leave.’

‘I’m sure she’ll be happy for us – well, for you anyway. I know we haven’t always seen eye to eye. She’s always seemed a bit of a terrier to me.’

‘Oh no, Emma’s more like a Labrador.’ I picture Emma’s face when I tell her, the disbelief, then the smile (I hope). Not one, but two babies for the Otter House Vets. An outbreak of pregnancy. We’ll be able to share the experience together. I might find myself enthusing over nappies and all-terrain buggies. ‘I’ll speak to her tomorrow,’ I say, remembering she’s going out with Ben tonight. I don’t want to interrupt their romantic evening together.

‘That’s better,’ Alex says. ‘You’re smiling at last. I’m glad I asked you to meet me here. I realised in all the time I’ve known you, I’ve never brought you here to Talysands and it’s one of my favourite places on earth.’ When I don’t answer with matching enthusiasm for what seems to me like a rather run-down seaside resort, he goes on, ‘Of course, it’s much nicer in the summer. We’ll bring Lucie and Seb. We can build sandcastles and swim in the sea.’

‘I don’t do swimming,’ I say quickly.

‘You can always sit on the beach and eat ice cream. By the time we get to the summer holidays, you’ll be as big as a whale.’

‘Thanks a lot.’ I’m imagining a whale with stretch marks as Alex chats on.