Authors: Andrea Hughes
“What happens now?”
He felt free, unburdened, and leaned his face even closer. She sighed and the desire grew between them.
“That’s up to you, Kate.” He touched his lips to hers and felt the whole world shift as her mouth answered his unspoken question.
“It’s all up to you, Kate, it’s your dream after all.”
*
Angus Paterson stared down at his palms with interest, then turned his hands over to study them in more detail. Everything looked the same as it always had, even that little scar on his knuckle that he’d had since … well, for as long as he could remember. He turned his hands once again and stared at the lines cutting deep grooves across his palms.
The dream had disconcerted him and he didn’t mind admitting it. He also knew that this minute study of himself was purely a delaying tactic. He smiled faintly then dropped his hands to his sides.
The time had come.
21 December
Returning to the kitchen after hanging up the telephone was possibly the most depressing walk of shame I’d ever taken. And I hadn’t even spilt the beans yet. A flash of bright pink distracted me and I looked out the window to see Kensie and Tom running madly around the little back garden, giggling gleefully. A big old ginger cat was watching the children from the relative safety of the flower bed and as I watched, he gracefully stretched out in the plants, placed his big head on tired paws and yawned.
I snorted in amusement. “Poor old Misty.” I watched as the cat nonchalantly pretended to sleep, one wary eye still half open, watching. “He doesn’t really know what to make of those two rowdy monsters.”
Mum glanced out the window and smiled, “well, the silly old bugger will just have to cope. You and the kids are welcome to stay for as long as you like, you know that.”
I took a steaming cup from my mother and sat down, sipping my coffee. I could feel her eyes boring into my back and steadfastly kept my own focused on the frowning cat. If she couldn’t see my face, maybe she wouldn’t ask. Then again …
“You didn’t tell him, did you?”
I closed my eyes and shrugged. “I didn’t know how to.”
Mum sighed. “I know it’s difficult, Kate, but he’s your husband. He has a right to know.”
“Thank you, I’m well aware of that,” I responded sharply, then smiled apologetically and patted the older woman’s hand. “I’m sorry, mum. I shouldn’t be taking it out on you.”
“No, you shouldn’t,” mum agreed and squeezed my fingers, “but I wish you’d talk to me about it. Talking could help, you know.”
I shook my head, “you know pretty much everything I do … about the baby, the whole mess.” I paused, biting my lip, “the next step is to tell Will, I just don’t know how to.”
It seemed like just yesterday that the paternity results had come back. The whole experience was burnt into my memory; Doctor Bailey smiling and holding the door open. Frank and I sliding into her room like naughty children.
“First of all, the procedure went very well. I assume you’ve had no complications since,” she raised her eyebrows enquiringly, “otherwise you would have called me.”
I nodded, “a bit of bleeding but it stopped pretty quickly. Nothing since then.”
“Good. Any abdominal pain?”
I shook my head.
“Excellent. Just keep taking it easy and everything should be fine. Now to the results. First and foremost, all tests came back clear.” Seeing my smile of relief she held up her hand. “Don’t forget, the CVS can’t test for everything. It’s also not one hundred percent accurate, it’s not a guarantee.”
Doctor Bailey paused before turning back to my file. “Now to the other issue; the paternity test. Again,” she warned, “it’s not one hundred percent guaranteed, however DNA testing of a child’s paternity is extremely accurate.”
Fidgeting with impatience, I felt my hand being held; squeezed tight. I glanced at Frank in surprise, it was the first time since this all started that he’d voluntarily touched me and I realised he was as much in need of reassurance as I was. Supporting each other, we turned to face the doctor.
“The results for the sample taken from Frank Jones,” she glanced at Frank, “the results are positive.”
Frank looked blank, I stared at him in horror, “positive?”
Doctor Bailey nodded, her eyes still on Frank. “Congratulations,” she said quietly, “you’re going to be a father.”
Sitting now on my mum’s kitchen stool, I heard those words echo around my head;
Frank’s going to be a father
.
I hadn’t seen Frank since it happened, had hardly seen Will, busy as he was at work. That suited me fine; gave me a chance to think. Changing my flight to
England had been surprisingly easy, especially considering how close it was to Christmas. Cancellation; three seats on the fourteenth. Did I want to take them?
Did I want to take them?
Too bloody right I’d wanted to take them.
So I ran away, leaving Will and Frank back in
Australia.
“It’s your decision of course,” Mum interrupted my thoughts, making me jump. “Just don’t forget I’m here to help. I may not agree with what you’ve done …” She paused, a mildly disappointed look on her face, “…but I’m still your mum and I love you. If there’s anything I can do to help …”
I felt tears prickling and gave my mum a quick, fierce hug, not trusting myself to speak.
Patting me on the back, Mum pulled away and smiled. “Do you lot have any plans for today?”
I sniffed and wiped the back of my hand under my nose. “Not really.” I smiled wanly, “I haven’t had a lot of chance to think about anything else recently.”
Mum grabbed the local newspaper from the bench,
flicking the pages and jabbing her finger triumphantly at page six. ‘Did you see this?”
“Christmas Fair,” I read, studying the advertisement that had been thrust under my nose. “Children’s rides, farm animals, Father Christmas, free entry,” I glanced at my mother, eyebrows raised, “got an urge to sit on Santa’s knee have you?”
Mum prodded me in the ribs with her elbow. “Actually, I was thinking of the kids. What d’you reckon?”
I scanned the advertisement again. “Sounds like fun. But, if you sit on Santa’s knee, Gwen Hunter, I will disown you.”
*
I pulled a hanky out of my pocket and wiped Tom’s face. “I’ve never known anyone like you,” I scolded absently, “you get more tomato sauce on your face than you manage to eat.”
Tom grinned and chewed as Kensie wiped prettily at her own face with a napkin, looking surprised when she encountered a piece of fried onion attached to her cheek. She picked it off and thriftily popped it into her mouth. “Can we have another one?”
Mum looked shocked, “that burger was as big as you.”
“Chips?” Tom asked hopefully.
“Ice cream?” Kensie requested excitedly.
“Coffee!” I declared happily. I looked at my children, we might get some chips later. As for ice cream … it’s the middle of winter, Kensie.”
Kensie looked sulkily at Mum, “grandma?”
Mum smiled at the little girl, “I’m sure we can find something tasty for you later. Right now your mum is going to buy me a nice hot cup of tea.”
I made my way through the crowd to the tiny stall selling hot drinks, studying my surroundings curiously, absently noting the changes made to my home town since I’d left. The changes, and those things that had stayed the same, some of which were definitely in need of a facelift.
It was good to get away, I mused, joining the end of the queue, glancing towards the bouncy castle where Mum was crouched down in front of Tom, removing his shoes. Kensie was waiting beside her little brother, shoeless feet itching to begin jumping.
“Not sure that’s a good idea,” I muttered as both children climbed up and started bouncing madly, giggling hysterically to each other. Visions of recently consumed hamburgers filled my head, vomited up to cover the other dozen children also jumping gleefully.
It’s fun, I thought suddenly, grabbing my drinks and moving away. The fair, the rides, the awful food. I sipped my coffee and grimaced, the bloody tasteless coffee too. It really was exactly what I needed to take my mind off all the other stuff. The children were having a great time too, which is what Christmas is all about, after all.
And is Will having a good Christmas?
Is he? Alone, deserted, bereft of all he needs and loves. Betrayed.
“He’s working,” I muttered, “all Christmas, and he’s not alone, is he? He’s got Carl.”
Ah, yes, Mr Wonderful
.
Tall, dark, attractive. Charming and sexy. He’s got so many things that you just don’t have.
Realising I had stopped walking, I put my right foot to good use and stamped it hard on the soft ground. “You’re right about that,” I scowled, “I don’t have a cock.”
There was a hoot of laughter and I turned to glare at the man beside me who was staring at my groin in fascination. Chortling, he winked before wandering off.
I grunted, anger fading as amusement took over; did I really say that out loud? The voice in my head was laughing now and I stuck an imaginary tongue out at it, turned abruptly and strode out towards the bouncy castle.
“Watch out!”
The startled voice came just a moment too late and as I tangled bodily with its owner, I had had just one rational thought:
Bugger.
21 December
It was all so elegant.
First the dance, complete with twirl and little kick, his hand resting lightly on my arm; guiding, leading. My two left feet putting me slightly off balance, allowing him to grasp more firmly around the waist and pull me against him. All the while, my own hands refused to let go of the two warm polystyrene cups, as drips of hot beverage squeezed out from under the plastic lids. I silently hoped they were pushed down nice and tight.
A slight tangle of feet and we came to a crushing halt, swaying lightly in the breeze, thankfully with tea and coffee still intact. The man still had one arm holding me close and I frowned; he was strange to me but uncannily familiar in a way I couldn’t put my finger on. Apologies hovered just as an amused voice spoke from above my head.
“You felt a bit different last time we did this, Kate.”
I choked, the words suddenly drying up in my throat. Strong hazel eyes stared at me, amusement glinting in the corners. A thick dark mop of short, wavy hair framed the vaguely familiar face.
“Last time?” I realised my mouth was hanging open and together with outstretched arms and up-turned head, I thought I must look remarkably like a baby bird waiting for a juicy worm.
I took a step backwards, staring intently at the newcomer. One eyebrow raised, he stared back, the amusement on his face pulling up the corners of his mouth, “don’t tell me you’ve forgotten me, Kate.”
I started to shake my head. The feeling of familiarity was strong, so strong. There was something …
“Angus?” I took a sharp breath in, a questioning smile slowly forming.
The man grinned. “As I remember it, last time I held you like that you weren’t quite so womanly.” He looked pointedly at my chest.
I laughed, “well, I was only fifteen at the time. My God, Angus, it’s been so long.”
“Half a lifetime,” his soft English accent sounded suddenly familiar and appealing, captivating me and throwing me back in time almost two decades. “I heard you’d moved to Australia. Is this just a holiday or are you back for good?”
“
Holiday. Angus Paterson! How have you been? Have you kept in touch with anyone else from school?” I touched him gently on the arm, my eyes laughing into his.
Angus chuckled and patted my hand, “how have I been? Well, what you see is what you get with me, Kate. I’ve stayed in touch with a few old mates from school; do you remember Ian? Or Craig?”
“Craig, yes. We went to the same university but I haven’t seen him for years. Ian … God, all the girls were in love with Ian Lander.”
Angus frowned and poked me playfully in the ribs. “And what about you, Kate Hunter? Were
you
madly in love with Ian?”
I giggled, feeling a little like the teenager we were discussing, “Oh no, I never did like to follow the crowd. I had to be different.”
Angus grinned, “I remember.” He glanced at his watch and a look of dismay crossed his face. “Damn, Kate, I’ve got to shoot off.”
Disappointment shrouded me. Since arriving in
England I’d felt as if I was being pulled in two directions; torn down the middle. Meeting an old boyfriend I hadn’t seen in twenty years made the mess my life had become vanish in a puff of smoke. For a few seconds I’d really felt young again, and Angus didn’t seem any different at all, like we’d never been apart.
“Look, Kate, would you like to get together some time? Catch up on old times?”
Immediately I nodded, “I’d love to.”
“Where are you staying?”
“With mum and dad.”
Angus tilted his head in thought, “are they still living in the same place?”