Summer of Love (25 page)

‘Oh, not you as well! Everyone keeps telling me boys need a male role model. It doesn’t mean I have to get married. And Richard wouldn’t marry me just so he can provide Rory with a role model.’ She’d had enough of being told what was and wasn’t good for her son. The son she’d raised perfectly well on her own for the last five years – well, with a little help from her parents, of course.

‘Oh no, he wants you,’ Gus growled. ‘He’d take Rory because that would be the only way he’d get you.’

‘That doesn’t make him a bad person!’

‘Oh, I know exactly how saintly bloody Richard is! But whatever other virtues he’s got, he’s not Rory’s father!’

‘I do know that,’ she said quietly, hoping his volume would lower, to match hers.

‘But I was the last to know, wasn’t I?’

‘Rory doesn’t know.’

‘But you will have to tell him. And soon. I’ve missed five years of his life, I’m not missing any more, and I’m not going to be palmed off to him as a “friend of the family”!’

‘I didn’t actually deprive you on purpose! You were out of reach – I knew that you would be! We have actually had this conversation. In fact we had a similar conversation nearly six years ago!’

She was getting out of breath but she didn’t want to ask Gus to slow down. It might just tip him over the edge. She hurried along beside him, doing her best to match his long, angry strides.

‘It’s all very well to tell me you couldn’t get in touch, I know that. But I’m in shock. I have a five-year-old son! One I might never have known about it if chance hadn’t plonked you down here next to my family home!’

‘I know. It was a shock for me too, seeing a man I thought I’d never see again appear at a country dinner party. For goodness’ sake, I was – am – Fiona’s friend! I didn’t know who her son was. Why won’t you believe me?’ She put her hand into the hedgerow again and caught a nettle. A moment later she found the sting a good distraction.

He wasn’t prepared to cut her any slack. ‘Yes, but you had time to get over that. If my mother hadn’t given you an ultimatum you might never have told me.’

She didn’t reply.

‘In fact, you didn’t bloody tell me! You let me find out for myself!’

‘I would have told you. If Melissa hadn’t seen the likeness and made that stupid remark—’

‘Don’t blame Melissa for this. She’s actually been incredibly supportive.’

‘Oh good.’ Sian picked up her pace, as if she could outwalk him. She felt her own anger ignite.

He lengthened his stride a fraction and was level again. ‘So why didn’t you want me to know about Rory?’

‘I don’t – didn’t –
not
want you to know about Rory, I was just picking my moment. Not that there ever would have been a good moment, I now see!’

‘Are you blaming me for being angry?’

‘No! But I do wish you’d see how hard it was for me to find the right time.’

He didn’t reply immediately. ‘It was shock as much as anything.’

He seemed to be calming down. Maybe they could talk about this in a civilised way. ‘Honestly, I went through something very similar.’

His anger was still driving him. ‘It’s hardly the same! You knew I was Rory’s father. I had no idea I had a son.’

Sian stopped and looked up at him. ‘What do you want me to say? I can’t go on saying sorry, it doesn’t mean anything any more, but I
am
truly sorry: that it was all such a shock, that I didn’t find the time to tell you before you found out. But I can’t apologise any more!’

They walked on in silence. Sian was wondering when he would stop feeling so aggrieved and they could turn back and she could go home.

‘We need to discuss me seeing Rory on a regular basis.’

Sian looked down and for the first time she spotted a scar on his leg.

‘You mean access?’

‘No! I don’t mean bloody access! That sounds like we’re divorced, having to spend every second weekend at some damn theme park or McDonald’s! I want to see my son. And I want him to know I’m his father.’

‘I’ll tell him—’

‘When? When he’s eighteen? When he asks? I want him to know now!’

‘He’s only five years old.’

‘I’m not likely to forget that.’ He paused. ‘Listen, I’m very fond of Rory but I’d like to get to know him, as a son.’

‘You will. Although if we move too far away from here, it might be harder.’

‘Don’t worry about moving away, it’ll be all right.’

He was so dismissive of this real threat her anger flared once more. ‘We don’t know that. Unless Melissa’s told you she doesn’t want the cottage any more?’

‘No, she still wants it.’

‘Well then, we’ll have to move. And I don’t know if we’ll be able to find anywhere else in this area I can afford. I think we should go home now,’ she added, turning round. ‘Rory will wonder where I am.’

‘I could come back with you—’

‘Look, I said I’m not going to deny you access or anything, but Rory will be tired after his party. We both need to think about this carefully.’

‘I have thought about it.’

‘Listen, I can’t cope with this any more. Not now. I need a moment to think. You go home, get a shower, have breakfast. I’ll do the same. We’ll work something out.’

Although obviously not happy, Gus clearly realised he wasn’t going to get any further at that point and, face softening a little, agreed. They headed back down the lane in a silence that was a long way from companionable but at least wasn’t completely antagonistic, until Gus strode off towards his mother’s house, without even nodding goodbye.

Well, that went well, thought Sian as she walked towards the cottage, her shoulders hunched.

‘Hey! Mum! Have you been for a walk?’

Sian took off her cardigan – so much for a comfort blanket! – placed it on the back of a kitchen chair and kissed Rory’s cheek. ‘Yes, darling. What did you have for breakfast?’

‘Eggy bread with syrup.’

‘Very sticky, I’m afraid,’ said Sian’s mother. ‘What can I get for you?’

‘Oh, just toast and Marmite as usual, I think. And tea.’ She sat down at the table and gave her mother a grateful smile. ‘It’s lovely to be waited on.’ What she meant was it was lovely to be mothered.

She was just on her second cup of tea when the phone rang. It was Richard.

‘Sorry to ring so early but I’ve got to be at the airport in an hour. We need to talk.’

Not him as well!

‘We are talking.’ She laughed gently, hoping she hadn’t snapped. It wasn’t fair to let her feelings about Gus be transferred to Richard.

‘Yes, I know, but I want to talk seriously, about the future. Finding out that Gus is Rory’s father has changed things rather.’

‘Has it? I mean – between us?’

There was a pause. Sian could almost hear Richard considering his next sentence. ‘I think we should regularise things. For Rory’s sake.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean, if you’re going to have to move … if we got together maybe you wouldn’t have to? Rory could still go to the same school and everything.’

Was this a proposal of marriage, or the offer of a house share? ‘I’m sorry to be dense, Richard but—’

He broke in quickly and nervously. Sian guessed he’d known that this wasn’t the way to talk things through with her, but couldn’t bear to leave the country again without having at least tried to say his piece – or stake his claim. ‘We’ll talk about it when I get back. I’ve got to go now. Take care!’

Sian went back into the kitchen feeling tired and bewildered. She seemed to have two men, both fighting to be the father of her child, if she interpreted what Richard had implied correctly. She knew how much he wanted them to be able to put their relationship on a more permanent, public footing, and she knew he was very fond of Rory, but he’d never actually forced her hand and she’d been happy to let things drift along as they were. Was he about to finally do so? Force her to make yet another decision she didn’t want to make right now? Why couldn’t she just go on bringing up Rory on her own? But she knew this wasn’t possible – at least as far as Gus was concerned. He would be in Rory’s life now whether she wanted him to be or not. And she did want him in her son’s life, really. For Rory’s sake, even if Gus’s presence in her life did nothing for her general state of mind.

She went back into the kitchen, but before she could sit down again she heard the letter-box flap, indicating the post had arrived. She went to get it, hoping for a confirmation of a commission, a cheque or even a jolly catalogue that she could read while she finished her tea.

There was a thick cream envelope with her name typed on the front. She could tell it was bad news, even before she picked it up from the mat.

‘What’s that? Anything nice?’ asked her mother, who’d produced a damp cloth for Rory’s fingers and was wiping hard.

‘Don’t think so.’ Sian opened the envelope and read the contents. ‘Nope. It’s just confirmation that Luella is selling the house. She wants me out by October. I could stay until December, but she’ll pay me a bit to go early and who wants to move at Christmas.’ She slumped down on the kitchen chair. Could today get any worse?

‘That’s very soon!’ her mother said, looking over at Sian with concern. Having satisfied herself her grandson was now clean, she ruffled his hair and pulled his chair out for him to get down. ‘Rory, why don’t you go and paint me a picture before it’s time to go to playgroup?’

Rory regarded his womenfolk. ‘You want to do talking, don’t you?’

‘Yes. Very boring talking,’ said Sian. ‘Do a lovely picture, darling. I know, paint your birthday cakes! You could give one to Fiona, as a thank you.’

Inspired by this idea, Rory went off to the dining room to find his paints.

A little while later, Penny put down a fresh mug of tea in front of Sian, who sipped it, glad of an excuse not to have to talk, or make a decision, or anything, for a few moments. She’d given her mother a rough outline of her conversations with Gus and Richard.

‘Tell you what,’ said Penny. ‘Why don’t you and Rory come and stay with us for a few days? Dad would love to see you both and it would give you a little break to think about your options.’

Suddenly, Sian yearned to go home – home home, where she’d lived as a child. ‘I’ve got a bit of work to do and I must help Fiona clear up after yesterday,’ she said halfheartedly, waiting for her mother to dismiss these as mere excuses.

‘I’ll do that. Rory can go to playgroup, you work and I’ll help Fiona. I like her so much and I’m sure she wouldn’t mind me doing it instead of you. Then, this afternoon, we can drive back. You needn’t take your car, you can go back by train, or I’ll drive you.’

Sian suddenly felt like crying. She was so glad her mother was here. She knew exactly what she needed. ‘It wouldn’t look like I was running away, would it?’

‘What from? No, it’s perfectly reasonable for you to visit your parents. Then when you’re with us, we’ll scour the internet for somewhere to live nearby. And I’m sure Mrs Florence said something about wanting that table you painted for her touched up. I think the leg got a bit chipped.’

‘So it’ll be work! Oh, Mum, thank you!’ She came round the table and hugged her mother.

‘You don’t need an invitation to come and stay, you know that.’ Penny patted her daughter’s back.

‘I know, but you had the idea and made it seem OK.’

She went off to find Rory to take him to playgroup, feeling a glimmer of hope for the first time since Gus had found out about Rory. Perhaps everything would work out OK after all. And time away would help put some perspective on it all – she hoped.

Rory slept in the back of the car and Sian used the time to think. Her mother, aware of what was going on, didn’t chat except to ask for a peppermint from time to time.

What was she to do for the best? Should she let Richard take away her problems, be a good stepfather to Rory and a prop to her? He’d be brilliant. He’d never forget an anniversary, he’d take her on holiday to nice places with good hotels and they’d never miss the plane.

If she let herself have anything to do with Gus apart from a fling, she’d be clambering up mountains in the snow, Rory frozen and moaning along behind, and expected to make meals over tiny fires using only tin cans, peeled birch twigs and maybe a pair of socks to get the bits of lichen out of the water.

And it wasn’t just the trappings, it was the commitment. Richard could commit, no problem. He’d commit to her, to Rory, to their family life.

But Gus? What were the chances? What was his attention span when it came to women? Hard to say, but she didn’t think it would be long. He’d seemed quite interested in her when he first appeared but now it was Melissa who was ‘incredibly supportive’.

And it would cut both ways. She hadn’t been supportive, she’d just kept him from his son for five years. And if he forgave her for the first four and three-quarter years, because she’d had no way of getting in touch with him, the fact she hadn’t told him the day after he returned home would always be a provocative thorn between them.

That she’d never felt about Richard the way she’d felt about Gus when she first met him wasn’t really a problem. It was just pheromones and madness anyway. Nor was the fact that she still felt that way towards him. It would fade. It had to.

Then there was the house question. ‘What are the chances of finding somewhere nice to live that I can afford and yet stay in the same area?’ she said aloud, glad Rory was still out for the count and envious of his childish ability to sleep.

Penny didn’t answer immediately, giving the impression it was because she was overtaking a huge lorry but Sian knew it was because she was thinking up an optimistic way of saying, ‘Not good.’

‘It will be a challenge,’ Penny acknowledged. ‘But you know me and the internet, I can find anything on it.’

‘But Luella’s cottage was amazingly cheap. I didn’t realise quite how cheap until I’d lived there for a bit.’

‘You will have to compromise, not have such a big garden perhaps, but you might get a nicer kitchen.’

‘It’s the area that’s most important. Rory’s made friends, I have too, and there’s the school. The head was brilliant. It would be perfect for him.’

‘You could drive there. It wouldn’t be the end of the world.’