We paused briefly outside the preschool for Edwin to say hello to Joel and Ralph through the fence. They were being called inside for story time. Edwin complained at me all the way home: “You didn’t let me play long enough. You didn’t let me have a chocolate egg. You didn’t let Alex come home with us.”The sun was too hot for my long-sleeved shirt, and my skin itched.
Any thoughts I might have had about avoiding the subject of Alex when we got back to Summerbourne were instantly quashed by Edwin yelling, “Guess who we saw?” as he leaped onto Ruth’s prone figure on the sofa. She needed a glass of water before she was able to speak properly.
“How did he look?” she asked me, and then before I could answer, “I don’t want to see him.”
When the phone rang that evening, I heard her saying, “I just don’t think it’s a good idea,” in a low voice as I ushered Edwin upstairs. Feeling childish, I crossed my fingers under Edwin’s towel as I watched the water run into his bath. If Alex went back to Leeds for good, it would leave me with one less thing to worry about.
Alex’s name wasn’t mentioned for the rest of the week, nor over the weekend. Dominic took Ruth and Edwin out for Sunday lunch at the pub in the village, leaving me to enjoy a luxurious nap on the patio.
On the following Monday afternoon, I was on the phone to Vera when I spotted a figure lurking near the end of the drive in the lane. Vera was reeling off a list of symptoms, wanting me to say whether Ruth was suffering with them or not.
“She hasn’t mentioned anything like that,” I said. “Hold on please, Vera. I think there’s someone outside.”
I rested the receiver on the table and went to peer through the window. It was Alex, his hands in his pockets, staring at the house.
“Vera, sorry. No, no one there. Yes, she’ll probably be up before teatime. I’ll get her to ring you. Bye.”
When I opened the front door, he shuffled up the gravel,glancing at the other windows, looking like he was trying not to make too much noise.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, frowning at him.
“I have to talk to you, Laura. Please.” His hair was unkempt, his eyes restless.
I shook my head. “You can’t come in. And I have Edwin and Joel here. I can’t come out.”
“Please, just—” He caught hold of my fingers, held on to them, his eyes pleading. “Please tell me, Laura. Is there something I need to know about this pregnancy?”
I should have snatched my hand away immediately. I should have closed the door on him and walked away.
“There is, isn’t there?” he asked.
With me up on the doorstep and him hunched on the gravel, I was slightly taller than him. I pulled my hand free, but I hesitated. Laughter from Edwin and Joel drifted out from the day nursery. I thought about Alex’s unborn child upstairs, biding its time, growing and stretching and waiting to be born.
“I can’t tell you,” I whispered.
He stared at me for a long moment. “It’s my baby, isn’t it?” he said.
I pressed my lips together. I wasn’t sure whether it was him swaying, or me. He leaned closer, his hand once more reaching for mine.
“Laura. Tell me.”
I held my breath. His fingers wrapped around mine. I nodded.
He stumbled backward then, letting go of me. I expected him to show anger, or distress, or some other kind of negative emotion. But elation seemed to rise inside him, and he drew himself up, his chest inflating, his eyes shining.
I slumped in the doorway. I was no longer taller than him.
“I need to see her,” he said. “I need to talk to her.”
“No.” I tried to close the door, but he put one foot up onto the threshold and stopped me.
“I need to talk to Ruth.” His voice was louder.
A creak of floorboards above pushed my heart rate higher. Edwin and Joel appeared in the kitchen doorway, and Edwin stepped forward hesitantly when he saw who the visitor was.
“Uncle Alex? Why are you shouting?”
Alex’s eyes clouded for a moment, and he stepped back uncertainly.
