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“I’m glad you’re here, Iris, because I want to ask you something. Or rather, Hugh and I do, but he’s not here at the moment and I know he won’t mind me asking you on his behalf.” She took a breath. “We’d love you to be Hamish’s godmother.”
Iris felt her eyes widen. “Me?”
Esme laughed. “Yes, you. If it’s something you think you’d like. You might already have enough godchildren, so please say if you’d rather not.”
“I don’t,” Iris said, still feeling dazed. “I only have two, and one of those I don’t see very often. It’s just that you barely know me.”
“Not in terms of time, but in my heart I feel as if I’ve known you for ages, and I know we’ll always be friends.”
“Are you sure there’s no one else you’d rather have? One of your sisters?”
Esme shook her head. “Hugh and I would really like it to be you.”
“Well, then, I’d be delighted. Thank you.”
“Really? Oh gosh, I’m so glad. Now we really will be like family!”
“Who’s the godfather?” Iris asked. “Marcus?”
“No. We’ve asked Joseph.”
The euphoria flooded from her. “Joseph?”
“Yes. I mean, he practically delivered Hamish, so it was an easy choice.” A frown crossed her face. “You seem shocked.”
“It’s just—I don’t know—he seems maybe too involved with the baby.”
Esme’s frown deepened. “What do you mean?”
“Okay, I’m just going to say it.” Her words came out in a rush. “I saw him once with his hand on your stomach and it seemed a bit familiar. Then he was there with you at the hospital when you gave birth,which again is quite intimate. And Beth said that he does a lot with Hamish, that in the evenings he’s often the one who looks after him.”
Two spots of color appeared on Esme’s cheeks. “You think Joseph is Hamish’s father.”
“No, but—” Iris stopped, her cheeks as red as Esme’s.
“He isn’t.”
Iris nodded. “Right.”
“But we were in a relationship at one time.” Esme met Iris’s eyes. “I’ve never told anyone.”
“You don’t have to tell me,” Iris said quickly.
“I don’t mind telling you, Iris, but Hugh doesn’t know that Joseph and I have ever been anything more than friends. And I’d rather he didn’t know, because he might think there’s something going on between me and Joseph, which there isn’t, and it would only complicate things.” She reached for the jug and refilled their glasses. “It began when I went back to live with my parents after I split up with my partner of three years, and I think I told you I was in a bad way, both emotionally and psychologically.”
“Yes, I remember.”
“Joseph used to come around and do a bit of gardening for my parents; they knew his parents, and because Joseph was training to be a landscape gardener, they were happy to let him try out ideas on their garden. It was the summer, and because I’d given up my job, I spent most of my time sunbathing on the lawn and generally getting in Joseph’s way, because he was putting a border in. He was just a kid to me at first, but the more I got to know him the more I understood that like me, he was going through his own personal trauma and we began to share our problems with each other. I told him how it felt to be dumped at thirty years old, he told me how it felt to be a recovering alcoholic at twenty-three.”
“But isn’t that when you met Hugh? When you went back to live with your parents after your relationship broke down?”
“Yes, but I only worked for him at first. Falling in love with him was a gradual thing, it didn’t happen until two years later.”
“How long did your relationship with Joseph last?”
“Not long.” She paused a moment, and dropped her head. “Three months later I realized I was pregnant and against Joseph’s wishes, I had an abortion. So that was that, really.”
Iris heard the pain in her voice and reached for her hand. “I’m sorry.”
