Chapter Thirteen
The sun made a welcome appearance in March after a dreary, drizzly winter. Lucy opened the curtains one Saturday morning and jumped for joy at the clear blue sky. She busied herself toasting bagels for her and Alex and made a cafetière of fresh coffee. Alex lounged in bed, unwilling to rouse himself, only emerging from under the layers of bedding when Lucy brought his breakfast to him in bed.
‘Thanks babe,’ he said, stretching like a bear emerging from hibernation. ‘You’re the best,’ he mumbled sleepily.
Lucy bent down and kissed his stubbly cheek, admiring how completely sexy he could look having just woken up. She had good days and bad days, sometimes perfecting the tousled, just- got-out-of-bed look surprisingly well. She had realized that keeping her mascara and eyeliner on normally made her look much better, provided that she remembered to wipe the smudges away from under her eyes to stop her looking like a panda. Perhaps, this was because Alex had told her that he preferred her with make-up on – something Claudia had been furious about when Lucy had told her. The last couple of months had flown by. Alex had settled in well. His moods had been mixed as usual but Lucy had decided to accept him as he was. There was no use trying to change him, and the more she let his bouts of the blues stress her out the more it would have a negative impact on their relationship. He had really impressed her with the effort he had made on Valentine’s Day the month before. Alex had booked a table at a local restaurant for a six course tasting menu with a matching flight of wine. Lucy had been immensely touched by his thoughtfulness and had relished the chance to be one of those couples that she had always envied, staring lovingly into each other’s eyes, on the night of the year when she had always felt at her lowest.
She left him happily munching his bagel as she curled up on her window seat next door to phone Tor. They were meeting for their regular lunch at Tor’s insistence, despite her being in her ninth month of pregnancy. As soon as Tor answered she said, ‘Holland Park?’
‘That’s exactly what I was calling about! It’s such a beautiful day… but can you manage to get yourself there okay or will it be… too much?’ asked Lucy tentatively.
‘Lucy, I’m the size of a whale, I agree, but I can still walk, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to let the elephant-child that has taken up residence in my womb stop me from enjoying myself,’ Tor said. ‘Besides, you’re supposed to keep moving if you want the damn thing to come out!’
‘Okay, fine. But don’t go breaking your waters on me or anything like that!’ warned Lucy.
‘I’ll try my best! Eugh, it’s all so disgusting!’ whined Tor. ‘I’ll see you at the usual time.’ she said, hanging up the phone.
The usual time was one o’clock. Alex had made a last-minute plan to meet a friend on Ken High Street at midday so he dropped Lucy off early en route. She ordered a coffee at their usual cafe and sat inside at the table in the corner, thinking about Tor and how lucky she was to be having a baby so soon. The very thought of it stirred the maternal longings within her; she was so desperate to experience it for herself. Lost in thought, she stared blankly out of the window, stirring her coffee.
Suddenly an enormous copper dog, almost a metre high, came bounding over to Lucy, crashing into the table and causing her latte to spill all over the place. Jolted from her daydreams, Lucy looked up in shock at the huge animal, noticing its glossy chestnut-red fur and brown almond-shaped eyes. The dog was rooting around under the table, trying to gobble up the crumbs that were lurking in the corner, wagging its tail happily. Seconds later, the door to the cafe flung open and a tall, well-built man came striding through it, bringing a blast of fresh spring air in with him.
‘Rufus!’ he boomed in a deep, throaty voice; the ‘r’ rolling softly with the gentle lilt of an Irish accent.
At the commanding tone of his master’s voice, Rufus, who Lucy presumed was the dog responsible for the disruption, sprang to attention: body frozen, ears pricked.
‘Rufus!’ bellowed the voice again, resonating with a note of warning.
At this, the dog began to retreat sheepishly from Lucy’s table. Turning his long head to look expectantly at his owner, he paused.
Lucy followed Rufus’s gaze, taking in the heavy boots, the worn jeans and the thick, knitted jumper; the dishevelled black hair lay in a riotous mess at the top of a ruggedly handsome face. The man’s startling blue eyes were staring beneath dark lashes with a look of forbiddance at the dog; his mouth set in a stern frown.
‘Rufus, here!’ he shouted, pointing at the floor beside him. Rufus darted over to him in a flash, proffering his neck apologetically so that his owner could attach the lead to his collar.
Lucy grabbed a few napkins from the dispenser on the table and started to mop up the mess of her spilt drink.
The man, aware that his dog had wreaked havoc at her table, approached Lucy, clearing his throat awkwardly. ‘Ahem,’ he said; his voice was gravelly and gruff. ‘Apologies for the behaviour of my ill-mannered mutt,’ he muttered huskily.
Lucy looked at this huge hulk of a man and felt something kick-start deep within her. She had never seen someone so striking; his features looked like they had been carved out of stone, weathered by the outdoors. A dark layer of stubble covered his chin, his thick brow was crumpled with the effort of his apology; he was clearly uncomfortable with the situation.
Lucy laughed, trying to put him out of his misery. ‘Honestly, it couldn’t matter less!’ she said. ‘It might have looked like a big spillage, but it was only a couple of drops really.’
‘Could I not buy you a new coffee, at least?’ he asked, concern like a shadow cast over his face.
‘No, not at all. Really, it was nothing!’ she chimed, flicking her blonde hair over her shoulder in an effort to look relaxed in front of this strangely attractive man. His presence was having a peculiar effect on her. She felt like she was thirteen years old once again, when she and Claudia would try (and fail) to impress Rob’s older rugby mates, massively out of their comfort zone.
‘Well, if you’re sure? I’m terribly sorry to have disturbed you,’ he said, before turning on his heel, dragging poor Rufus along behind him and out the door, back into the park.
Lucy watched out of the window as he set off along the path, Rufus scurrying along with his tail between his legs, aware that he was not in his master’s good books. Feeling bizarrely flustered, she took another sip of her coffee. She wondered what that salt-of-the-earth-looking Irish man had been doing in Holland Park; he looked like he belonged on some windswept island in the Atlantic.
As she stared out of the window, she noticed Tor’s car crawling up the road towards the small car park that was located just south of the Orangery. Lucy was pleased to see that she had driven, that she was cutting herself at least a little slack given her current state. She watched Tor park the car and went over to help her haul herself and her tummy out from its resting place underneath the steering wheel. They made their way to the cafe, ordered their lunch and sat down, sunglasses firmly in place as they caught up on the recent gossip. Tor laughed at the story of Rufus the dog causing havoc a few minutes earlier and was jealous that she had missed the episode, particularly given Lucy’s flattering description of his owner.
Later, as they were strolling at snail’s pace around the Dutch gardens, Tor proceeded to tell Lucy about all the side effects to pregnancy at the later stages that everyone failed to mention; some of them very unpleasant indeed.
Lucy balked at the thought, squealing, ‘Enough! There’s a reason why people don’t tell you, you know! It’s enough to put anyone off!’
Tor laughed, ‘I couldn’t putyouoff, could I? You’ve always wanted kids more than anyone I know. Have you and Alex talked about it yet?’
Lucy said, ‘Kind of. He said he hadn’t really thought about it much when we first talked about it at New Year’s Eve. But then the other day, after we had Claudia and Dan around, we had this conversation about why they are so dead set against having kids. I told him to imagine what life would be like for Granny Annie if she hadn’t had any children. All her friends have died; the only people she sees are her children and her grandchildren. I can’t think of anything worse than being all alone when you are old, with no family and… he kind of agreed. So I think he’s definitely coming around to the idea.’
