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‘I can assure you that I am.’
His mind raced as he wondered how or when it could have happened when he had made sure that he had protected them—even though at times he had wanted her so badly that the short wait to don a condom had felt like an eternity.
‘How pregnant?’
‘Only a few weeks.’
He felt the heavy beat of foreboding while anger continued to pulse through his veins like all-pervading poison—so that the words came out before he could stop them. But didn’t the cornered and powerless side of him want to lash out, and to hurt her? ‘And you’re quite sure it’s mine?’
Cassie sank down onto the sofa as if he had struck her, temporarily winded by the harsh cruelty of his accusation. The blood pounded in her ears. Did he think that she was so hungry for sex and so easily able to forget him that she could have leapt from his arms, straight into the arms of another? And can you really blame him if he thinks that? Didn’t you give him good reason to think that with the way you just fell straight into bed with him?
But in the midst of her hurt and her shame that he could think so little of her Cassie felt the first faint flicker of something she didn’t recognise. Something primitive which had empowered women since the beginning of time. Suddenly, the stark and unwanted news became a miracle as her fingertips strayed towards her belly, fluttering like a butterfly as they drifted over the still-flat surface before coming to rest there protectively.
For a moment she just sat there as Giancarlo’s words filtered back into her mind. Hateful, hurtful, unforgivable words in the circumstances. You’re quite sure it’s mine? How could he possibly ask her that when she had given him her virginity as well as her heart?
She sucked in a shuddering breath and the fingers on her belly curled into a determined little fist. ‘No, it’s not yours,’ she said bitterly. ‘The baby is mine—all mine! You don’t have to do a damned thing—in fact, you can stay away from us, Giancarlo, because we don’t want you or need you! I told you because I felt that it was your right to know—that’s all.’ And with that, she slammed the phone back down on its cradle and sank back against the cushions on the sofa.
Remembering that her mother would be back at some point, she forced herself to recover something of her equilibrium by realising that she was going to have to start looking after herself from now on. That she had a responsibility to the new life which was growing inside her. She needed to make plans—but she needed to do it without outside influence or pressure. No need for her mother to know. Not yet. Or Patsy. In fact, no one at all need know until she had decided how best she was going to cope.
There had been only one person in the equation who’d had any right to hear her momentous news and he had treated that announcement with contempt. For now, the most important thing was taking care of herself with good food and plenty of rest and working out what to do.
But she needed to get out of the house before her mother came back—took one look at her pale and tear-stained face and guessed at the huge change which had taken place in her life.
Wrapping up in warm layers and cramming a woollen beany over her plaited hair, she set off for a walk.
The ocean wasn’t far away from anywhere in the village—that was one of the best things about it. Everywhere you went you could hear it swishing away in the background. There was something oddly comforting about its relentless motion and constant presence and Cassie wondered how many little human dramas it had lain witness to. How many women like her had walked along its shores while salt droplets had mingled with tears on their cold cheeks and they railed against men who didn’t want them?
On a grey, January day like today the mood of the water reflected her own inner turmoil as giant breakers foamed up from the grey waters and crashed down onto the shiny dark slate rocks. All around her the wind howled like a caged beast and even the gulls sat motionless on the rocks—the gusts of air too violent for them to risk flying.
Cassie walked up the coastal path which led over the cliffs—a walk she had done countless times—and which usually left her feeling exhilarated and glad to be alive. But today her head was so full of troubled thoughts that it made counting her blessings a real challenge.
On and on she walked, until, aware of the fading light, she set back for home—still trying to work out some of the practical problems which lay ahead. At least the fresh air and exercise had left her feeling better and reinforced the fact that she was young and fit and could face anything. And at least she had a supportive mother and a roof over her head—women had brought babies into the world on much less than that.
