Yes, indeed. What a difference a year makes. Sarah had split up with her boyfriend on her thirtieth birthday, hopped on the train home, and had been presented with Kay’s proposal to take over Seaside Blooms. Now she had a thriving business and was planning her wedding.
To stop me dwelling on how much my own life had also changed during that year, I retrieved the gift bag containing Sarah’s present from under my chair, walked round the table, then crouched down beside her. ‘Happy birthday,’ I said.
She smiled. ‘Thank you. Can I save it till Friday?’
‘Of course you can.’
After hugging her, I returned to my seat opposite Jess and Lee. Ginny from The Wedding Emporium was seated beside me, which made me feel on edge. I’d messaged her about changing the size of my dress, telling her that I’d lost weight after the stress of splitting up with Gary, but had put it back on now and was worried the size I’d ordered wouldn’t fit. I’d felt quite distressed at how easily another lie had materialised. It gave me some insight into Gary’s world, though. Once you started lying, it was so hard to stop. You had to create new lies to cover old ones. I’d casually suggested that it may be a good idea not to mention anything to Sarah after so many disruptions to her plans already. Ginny had replied saying that I was just in time with the change and that she agreed there was no reason for Sarah to know. I couldn’t help panicking that she might suddenly drop it into conversation over dinner. I knew it was ridiculous to worry about it, but I couldn’t help it.
A burst of laughter drew my eyes further up the table to where Stevie was seated with Clare to one side of him and Ben to the other. The three of them were creased up with laughter. I watched as Stevie wiped tears from his dimpled cheeks and found myself wishing that I’d been the one to make him laugh like that. His sparkling eyes and dimples were such a turn-on. A hot flush creeping up my body, I grabbed my water and took a big gulp.
An oily olive bounced off my forearm, making me jump.
‘Have you heard a single thing I just said?’ Jess demanded.
I hadn’t even been aware that she was talking to me. I took another glance down the table and caught Stevie’s eye. He gave me a gentle, reassuring smile. At least he wasn’t ignoring me. I turned back to Jess. ‘Sorry. I’m all ears now.’
Ten minutes later, our starters arrived. Jess sniffed the air like a Bisto Kid and pointed to my plate. ‘Hmm, soft cheese. Now that’s something I can’t wait to gorge on when these two appear.’
I laughed as I cut open my deep-fried Camembert, salivating as the warm cheese oozed out of the breadcrumbs, then her words actually registered with me. Soft cheese? Pregnancy? Oh no! How could I have been so stupid? I couldn’t eat it. Yet I was starving. I pushed it around my plate then hid it under some lettuce leaves, hoping nobody would notice. I think I’d have got away with it if it hadn’t been for a well-meaning waiter when it came to plate-clearing time. Was there something wrong with it? Was it not to my taste? I felt like everyone on the table was watching me.
‘It was delicious,’ I insisted, ‘but I’m not very hungry. I need to save my appetite for my main course.’
‘Please, madam, tell me if there was something wrong. I’ll tell the chef.’
‘No, no, it’s lovely. Really, it is. It’s just me. Please take it.’ Thankfully he stopped debating and removed the offending item.
My stomach churned and I needed fresh air. I politely excused myself and tried to walk with dignity and grace away from the table, legs wobbling, stomach churning. Mints. I grabbed a handful from the bowl by the till and hadn’t even made it out of the door before I’d unwrapped one and stuffed it into my mouth.
There was a chill in the air as I stepped outside, which probably explained why there was nobody seated at the metal tables. Taking a deep breath, I sat down at the furthest table, which was surrounded by wooden trellises covered in climbing plants. I sucked on my mint and waited for the nausea to subside. I unwrapped another one, shoved it in my mouth, then sat forward, resting my head in my hands.
‘You’re pregnant, aren’t you?’
I looked up, startled, as Clare pulled out the seat next to me and sat down.
‘Of course not. Why would you…?’ But I stopped as I looked into her curious eyes. What was the point in denying it? I sighed, ‘Yes. How did you know?’
‘It was the cheese tonight. I heard what Jess said and I saw your face.’
I bit my lip. ‘Do you think anyone else noticed? I don’t want them to know.’
‘No. I think your secret’s safe,’ she said, gently. ‘How far will you be?’
‘A little over ten weeks.’
‘I’m assuming that, if you’re avoiding drink and being careful with food, you’re planning on keeping the baby?’
‘Ending it isn’t an option for me. I couldn’t do that. It’s not the baby’s fault that it wasn’t planned. You probably think I’m doing the wrong thing, don’t you?’
Clare sat back and glared at me. ‘Have you learned nothing from our fight? You really think I’d recommend a termination?’
‘No. Not recommend as such. It’s not a judgement about it. I just thought you hated kids so that’s maybe what you’d do if you were in my situation.’
‘I don’t hate kids.’
‘But Sarah told me you call babies gremlins and can’t bear to be around them. I just assumed that—’
‘It’s easier that way. I don’t have to—’ She stopped and cleared her throat. ‘Ten weeks, you say? Not Gary’s. Unless…? Okay, stop shaking your head. Not Gary’s. Daniel’s?’
I nodded and chewed on my lip again.
‘So you’re ten weeks pregnant with Daniel’s baby and nobody knows. What happens next?’
‘Is that true?’
I jumped at the male voice and looked up into his pained eyes. My heart thumped.
‘I asked you a question. Is it true that you’re pregnant with my brother’s baby?’ His voice was thick with emotion, his face pale, his body shaking.
I stood up. ‘Michael. I’m sorry. I…’ But what was there to say?
‘Don’t,’ he snapped. ‘I don’t want to hear it. Give this to my dad.’ He thrust something into my hands, turned, and marched out of the seating area.
‘Michael!’ I glanced at Clare.
‘Go after him,’ she hissed, grabbing the item off me.
‘Michael!’
He’d rounded the corner and was striding up Sandy Bank towards town by the time I caught him. ‘Michael! Please talk to me.’
He turned round, his face pale except for a bright red patch on each cheek. ‘I know you said we could only be friends, but I hoped that, with time, you’d start to think of me as more than that. I’m so bloody stupid. First Amber. Now you. And my bastard brother has to screw things up with both of you.’
‘I’m sorry. I never wanted to hurt you.’
‘And neither did Amber, yet somehow I’m stuck in Groundhog Day with two severe cases of unrequited love where the women I care about choose that two-timing shit over me, he ruins their lives, and I’m expected to pick up the pieces.’