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She didn’t. ‘Guarded’ certainly was an apt description, and trying to picture Rico as a young man was an almost impossible feat. He seemed born mature.
‘As for Marco, he was heading for trouble—twelve years old and with no authority figure. Carlos adored him, but he was never very good at saying no to him. I thought if he went to boarding school, got some sense of worth instilled in him, discipline…’
Antonia was fishing for her hanky now, only this time her tears seemed real. Catherine suddenly felt sorry for her—there really were two sides to every story.
‘Maybe I did make a mistake, maybe I should have hung in there a bit longer, but at the time…’ She picked up the photo, staring at it for an age before softly replacing it. ‘I was hoping to do things better with Lily—show Carlos and Rico that I can be a good mother and maybe somehow make things up to Marco. I know Rico will not be pleased you let us in, but I want to thank you, Catherine—thank you for letting Carlos and I have some time with Lily.’
‘You’re welcome.’ Catherine went to stand, but the room suddenly seemed to be shrinking. Antonia’s eyes bored into her as she held firmly onto the cot rail, steadying herself against a sudden overwhelming nausea.
‘My dear, are you all right?’ Antonia asked, pushing Catherine gently back down in the seat. ‘You look ever so pale.’
‘I’m fine,’ Catherine croaked, and then righted herself. ‘I’m fine,’ she said again, only this time more forcibly. ‘Just a bit tired.’
‘You must be exhausted.’ Antonia picked up her bag and as Catherine again went to stand she gestured for her to sit. ‘I can see myself out, Catherine; you just sit there and rest a while.’
‘I’m fine,’ Catherine insisted, suddenly feeling foolish.
‘You’re worn out, my dear.’ Antonia patted her shoulder in an almost motherly gesture. ‘And undoubtedly you’ve got a lot on your mind.’
That was the understatement of the millennium.
Left alone, Catherine creased her forehead in concern, her hands fluttering to her stomach. The eternal calculator women reverted to sprang into action as she tried to remember a landmark—she’d been at work—no, shopping—the twenty-second…Her fingers drummed on the side of the rocking chair as she did the maths, trying to ignore the gnawing possibility that seemed to be gaining momentum, trying to push away a truth that couldn’t be ignored no matter how she might want to.
How long she sat there she wasn’t quite sure. But Jessica had long since taken Lily for a walk, and late-afternoon shadows had long since started creeping in when, chilled to the core, Catherine took herself to her room and lay on the lonely marital bed like a wounded animal, trying to fathom Rico’s reaction when she told him.
Trying to fathom her own reaction to the news that was only now starting to hit home.
Her marriage was now for ever.
CHAPTER TEN
‘I THOUGHT one actually had to give birth to suffer from postnatal depression!’
Flinging open the curtains, Rico looked down at her, and Catherine stared back, unblinking, watching his catlike elegance as he started to prowl the room. He threw open the wardrobe and pulled out one of the many expensive dresses that had miraculously appeared. ‘Or don’t tell me—you’re tired again!’
He had a point. Much as it galled her to admit it, Rico had every right to be scathing. Since Antonia’s visit most of her days had been spent in the bedroom, trying and failing to work out some sort of plan, trying and failing to summon up the courage to tell Rico what was really on her mind.
But it wasn’t just Rico’s reaction troubling Catherine, it was her own take on things that terrified her the most. How could she even begin to contemplate having another baby when she’d barely adjusted to having Lily? How could a heart that already seemed stretched to capacity falling in love with one, fall in love with two?
‘I’m bored, Rico.’ Sitting up on the crumpled bed, Catherine refused to look him in the eye, woefully aware of her rather shabby appearance compared to his—the unkempt hair, the dark bags under her eyes, the shiny unmade-up face.
‘Well, why aren’t you at the park with Lily?’ Rico protested. ‘It’s a beautiful day.’
‘It’s been a beautiful day since eight a.m.,’ Catherine said with an edge to her voice. ‘And I’ve been to the park—twice. I’ve been for a coffee at the bakery you told me about, and I’ve even been to children’s storytime at the library—much to Jessica’s horror. We’re both falling over ourselves to find something to do.’ When he didn’t respond Catherine pushed harder. ‘I want to go back to work, Rico.’
‘You are not working.’
‘I’m going out of my mind.’ Catherine attempted to run a hand through her hair, but to her eternal shame—and Rico’s rather obvious contempt—a knot midway prevented her.
‘You could try going to the hairdresser’s,’ Rico responded nastily. ‘Try making a bit more of an effort with yourself.’
His words stung. Catherine was painfully aware she had let herself go over the past couple of weeks, but with Rico leaving at the crack of dawn, only to reappear late evening, it was hard to summon up the enthusiasm to look gorgeous. Invariably he’d arrive home and roll up his sleeves, lavish attention on a receptive Lily, then disappear into his study. She could be dressed in a sack for all the attention he gave her, and now he had the audacity to stroll in unannounced at five p.m. and demand a sleek sophisticate purring on the couch and eagerly anticipating her master’s return.
Well, she damn well wasn’t going to jump.
‘I’m not cut out for this, Rico.’ She kept her voice even, tried to keep the note of urgency away. ‘I’ve always worked, the same as you, and I enjoyed my career. Imagine if you suddenly had to give it up. Imagine if you were left alone in this house all day.’
‘You’re not alone, though,’ Rico pointed out. ‘You’ve got Lily.’
