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But the drug that would cure the heartache and loneliness which were Cally's real problem had yet to be invented.
Not that Nick was at the Hall a great deal these days, she thought. He'd seemingly thrown himself completely back into his work, and was involved in a lot of business trips. Getting her used to life without him, she supposed.
Cecily Tempest came and went as her lecture tour permitted. The fund-raising had gone well, and she would soon be returning to Guatemala, although she'd promised to return for the baby's birth.
And to say goodbye, if she did but know it, Cally thought drearily as she turned into the High Street. After an initial sticky period she had managed to create a rapport with Nick's mother, whom she'd been told to call by her first name, and found herself genuinely enjoying her company. She would miss her, she told herself, even if it was only for a few months.
Halfway along the street there was a Victorian shopping arcade with a high stained glass roof, and Cally was glad to escape into its shade for a few minutes to look in the window of a babywear shop that had recently opened.
She had opted not to know the sex of the baby in advance, but as she looked at the heart-wrenching display of small garments in traditional blues and pinks, she found herself wondering if she'd made the right decision. She'd asked Nick's opinion, but he'd politely deferred to her, which was no help at all.
I could always change my mind, she thought, admiring an exquisite lace christening robe.
With a sigh, she turned towards the heat and glare of the High Street, and halted, eyes narrowing in shock behind her glasses. On the far side of the street there was a short row of Georgian houses, now transformed into offices, and Nick had just emerged from one of them, his arm round the shoulders of Vanessa Layton, who was walking beside him.
As she watched, Cally saw him bend his head slightly and drop a light kiss on his companion's hair. She smiled back at him and put up a hand to touch his cheek. Then they parted, walking away in opposite directions.
Everything about the little scene was deeply and irrevocably etched into Cally's mind. The body language said it all, she thought. She was permitted no physical contact with her husband, but Vanessa could stand close to him, stroke his face, and smile into his eyes—all gestures that epitomised a close and familiar intimacy, that had nothing to do with mere lust.
He loves her, she thought. He really loves her, and I've never had a prayer. For him, my only plus mark is that I've turned out to be fertile.
She found suddenly that she was fighting for breath. Nick wasn't even supposed to be in Clayminster today, she thought wildly. He was scheduled to visit Wellingford. checking on the progress of Gunners Wharf.
In fact, she'd asked if she might go with him, but he'd responded briefly that it would be pointless as he only intended a flying visit.
'Want to send anyone your love?' he'd asked with faint mockery as he rose from the breakfast table.
Cally had lifted her chin. 'Yes,' she'd responded coolly. 'Tracy, if you happen to see her.'
Had Vanessa gone with him? she wondered. Was that why she herself had been turned down? Or had the planned visit been subordinated to some alternative scheme of his lover's making?
She came slowly out of the arcade and leaned for a moment on the corner of the window, struggling to regain her equilibrium. After all, she derided herself, what had the last few moments told her that she didn't already know?
I could just do with not having my nose rubbed in it quite so publicly, she thought, swallowing.
'Caroline? Cally, my dear, are you all right?' Cecily Tempest appeared beside her, her face concerned.
Cally was aware of an almost overwhelming urge to bury her head on her mother-in-law's shoulder and sob out her hurt and heartbreak. But that, of course, was impossible. She'd given her word to keep silent on the situation, and she couldn't break it, whatever emotional damage she might be suffering.
She gave Cecily a wavering smile. 'You were quite right about the heat. It's sweltering.'
'Then let's forget about lunch here and go home,' the older woman said decisively. 'Margaret will be able to rustle up a salad for us.'
Cally was glad to find herself in the car, being quietly driven back to Wylstone through the lanes. She leaned back, closing her eyes, trying to erase today's least welcome image from her memory.
'So,' Cecily Tempest said at last, 'would this be a good time to tell me what's really the matter? Because something undoubtedly is.'
Startled, Cally sat up and prepared for defence. 'I don't know what you mean.'
Cecily sighed. 'Cally, please don't take me for a fool. You're young, you're in love, and having your first baby. Life should be perfect. Instead, you're so determinedly bright that you almost dazzle me into thinking you're happy. And Nick, on the few occasions that he lowers his guard these days, looks as if he's living through some personal nightmare.'
