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What happened if she told him and he reacted the same way Randall had? He was still in his twenties; he lived in a beach hut; he picked up women in bars. He was exciting, reckless, charming, sexier than any one she’d ever met, and probably the least likely guy on the planet to welcome news like this.
‘And he’s not necessarily going to freak out the way Randall did,’ Ruby said, doing her mind-reading thing.
Oh, yes, he will.
‘I don’t want to risk it.’ She tugged her hands out of Ruby’s. ‘Why do I have to tell him?’
‘Because it’s his baby, and he has a right to know,’ Ruby said, in that patient I-know-what’s-best voice that she’d acquired ever since having kids. Ella had always thought it was so sweet. Now she was finding it more than a little patronising.
‘But suppose he’d rather not know?’
‘How can you possibly know that?’ Ruby replied.
She opened her mouth to tell Ruby how he’d asked her if she was on the pill and how the correct answer had somehow got lost in the heat of the moment. But then shut it again. She didn’t want Ruby to think she’d deliberately tricked him, because she hadn’t. But even thinking about that conversation now made her feel as if she had, which would only tarnish the perfection of this moment.
‘He lives in Bermuda. I don’t need his support.’ Especially as he didn’t have any money. ‘I’m more than solvent on my own and—’
‘That’s not the point. He’s the baby’s father. By not telling him you’re not giving him the choice, or the baby the choice to know him when it gets older. Think of how much it screwed up Nick when he found out our dad wasn’t his biological father,’ she said, reminding Ella of her brother Nick, who had run away from home in his teens when he’d discovered the truth about his parentage and had only recently come back into Ruby’s life.
‘It’s not the same thing at all,’ Ella protested. It wasn’t as if she planned never to tell her child who its father was; she just didn’t see why she had to tell the father right this second.
‘I know it’s not, but what I’m trying to say is you can’t keep those kinds of secrets. It’s not fair on either one of them.’
Ella wanted to say life wasn’t fair. But the truth was she’d never believed that. Life could be fair, if you made the effort to make it so.
She wanted to deny he had any right to know. This was her child. Her responsibility. And she didn’t want to consider his rights, his reaction. But even as the panic sat under her breastbone, ready to leap up her throat and cut off her air supply, she pictured Coop’s face, the genuine smile, those emerald eyes twinkling with humour, and knew that not telling him would be taking the coward’s way out.
While she never would have planned to have a child alone, that was what she’d be doing—because fate had handed her this incredible gift. And while it was very likely that Coop wouldn’t want to know about this baby, she had to at least give him the option of saying no. Because she had to give her child the chance to know its father. However slim that chance might be.
Ruby patted her hand. ‘How about we leave this discussion for another day? You really don’t have to do this yet.’
A loud tapping had them both turning to see the whole of the Hampstead Heath Mother and Baby Stroller Work-Out Class crowded around the door, looking sweaty and dishevelled and in desperate need of light refreshments.
Jumping up, Ella headed round the counter, to flip the sign on the door to open and welcome them in. As they smiled and wheeled their babies proudly into the café, chatting about the Hitler who ran the class, Ella smiled back, amazed to realise the lethagy that had dragged her down for days had vanished.
‘Wait, Ella, are you sure you don’t want to go home and rest? I can handle the Yummies,’ Ruby offered as she joined her behind the counter.
Ella grinned back at her, the ball of panic lifting too.
She had time to think about how to tell Cooper; how to break the news to him without making him feel responsible. And really, while the thought of what she had to tell him wasn’t easy, the fact that she had a reason to speak to him again felt surprisingly good. ‘No need. I feel great.’
Ruby laughed back, her own face beaming with pleasure. ‘Just wait till tomorrow morning when you’re crouched over the toilet bowl again. Actually, we better get some buckets for the duration.’
Ella spent the morning chatting to the mums, serving tea and freshly baked cakes and cookies, whipping up a succession of speciality coffees, while she admired their children, and struggled to contain the silly grin at how totally amazing her life suddenly was.
She’d speak to Cooper soon. Ruby was right: it would be wrong not to. But it had been an accident. And really, she didn’t need to think about all the particulars just yet. Right now, all she really had to do was bask in t
he miracle occurring inside her. And focus on making sure she gave her baby the best possible chance to thrive. And if that meant eventually finding the courage to tell its father about their happy accident, she’d do it, somehow.
SEVEN
‘Ouch. Damn it!’ Coop yanked his hand out of the casing, and threw the wrench down on the deck. Blood seeped from the shallow gash at the base of his thumb, through the thick black smear of engine grease. He sucked on it, getting a mouthful of grit to go with the metallic taste of his own blood.
‘What’s all the cussing for?’ Sonny’s head peered out from the captain’s cabin.
‘That damn propeller just took a chunk out of my hand,’ he snarled. ‘Cussing’s required.’ He boosted himself onto the deck. Tying the rag he’d been using to clean off the drive shaft around the injury, he sent his friend an angry glare. ‘That lug nut won’t budge—probably because it’s been rusted on for thirty years.’ With his hand now pounding in unison with his head, after one too many drinks last night at The Rum Runner, he was not in the mood to be dicking around with Sonny’s ancient outboard motor.
Sonny tilted his head to one side, sending him a calm, searching look. ‘Someone sure got out of bed the wrong way again this morning.’
