‘And you’re not worth the price of a meal,’ I shouted back, ‘so don’t wait for an invite.’ I grabbed Stevie’s hand and dashed for the door.
‘Do you want to talk about it?’ Stevie asked when we were safely inside Bertie.
‘Can we go to your house first?’
‘We certainly can.’
We drove to Bramble Cottage in silence while I re-played the conversation in my head. I hadn’t handled it well, but she’d started it. My anger had started at Jess’s wedding and had been steadily simmering since the twins had been born and she’d made no attempt to visit them. I found out on Christmas Day that she hadn’t sent cards or gifts for their births or Christmas either. Jess broke down in tears when she told me that. Dad had just stared at her helplessly, a haunted look in his eyes. I suspect he’d been replaying the wedding conversation, knowing exactly why she hadn’t bothered with the twins, yet unable to voice the reason.
‘You put your feet up and I’ll make you a hot drink,’ Stevie said when we arrived back at Bramble Cottage.
‘Thanks. I feel quite drained now.’
I must have dozed off because I opened my eyes to find a throw over me and the room in darkness, except for a warm glow from the log-burner and several candles. I stretched as my eyes adjusted to the light.
‘Hi sleepy-head,’ Stevie said, leaning forward in the armchair near the window. ‘I brought you a tea, but you were spark-out.’
‘Sorry about that. I only planned to close my eyes for a moment, but it was clearly longer than that. What time is it?’
‘About half four.’
‘I’ve been asleep for three hours? What must you think of me? This is becoming a habit.’
Stevie smiled. ‘You and baby obviously needed it. How are you feeling?’
‘Embarrassed about earlier.’
‘With your mum?’ Stevie put his book down and joined me on the sofa. ‘Please don’t be. I thought you were very restrained in pouring her drink on the floor rather than her head.’
I cringed. ‘You have no idea how much I wanted to pour it over her, swiftly followed by your pint. I’m sorry that she was rude to you.’
‘Don’t be. She’s obviously a bitter woman.’
‘Very bitter. And I’m sorry she kept going on about us getting married. I lost the energy to keep correcting her.’
Stevie smiled and my heart melted at the sight of those gorgeous dimples of his. ‘Please don’t worry about it. Although if you start going out wearing a nightie, I might have to re-think our friendship.’
I giggled. ‘If I start going out in my nightie, you have my permission to ship me off to Dignitas and put me out of my misery.’
‘It’s when I start going out in your nighties that we really need to worry.’ He stood up. ‘Let me go and get you a fresh brew.’
I stretched then gazed round the room. I could happily stay there and never leave. There was something about Bramble Cottage and its owner that felt so right. Was I brave enough to tell him that?
41
‘Happy New Year!’ Stevie took my overnight bag, closed the door, then gave me a hug. ‘Come through to the kitchen. I’ve made some fruit punch. Non-alcoholic, of course.’
In the kitchen, he handed me a drink. ‘On tonight’s menu, we’ve got warm wild mushroom salad with feta, but I Googled it and apparently feta’s okay in pregnancy if it’s made with pasteurised milk which this one is. But I’ll understand if you would rather not have the feta.’
I smiled. ‘Sounds like you’ve gone to a lot of trouble. Pasteurised feta is fine, thank you.’
‘For mains, I’ve made an aubergine and chickpea curry, and for dessert we’ve got raspberry and rhubarb crumble. I apologise that none of the courses go together. I got a bit carried away with the recipe book and only thought about the clash of tastes after I’d bought everything.’
‘It all sounds delicious and I like variety in a meal so don’t worry about it. Thank you for cooking. We could have just got a takeaway.’
‘I enjoy cooking,’ he said, ‘and it’s better for you and baby.’
I smiled and automatically stroked my small bump. ‘We appreciate it.’
Stevie cooked the mushrooms while I laid the table, then we ate our starter and main courses.
‘Given that it’s the last day of the year, it’s tradition to look ahead,’ he said over our curry. ‘So, what are your hopes for next year?’
‘To find somewhere nice to live, to have a healthy little girl—’
Stevie dropped his fork. ‘You’re having a girl?’
I grinned. ‘I had my scan on Christmas Eve and decided to find out.’
He sat back in his chair and smiled. ‘A baby girl. Congratulations. Are you pleased?’
‘I am actually. I’d had a couple of dreams about it being a girl so it was quite surreal getting it confirmed.’
‘I’m delighted for you,’ Stevie said. ‘So, other than a place to live and a healthy daughter, do you have any other hopes?’
‘Not to be alone.’ What I really wanted to say was, ‘To have you love me as much as I love you,’ but I was nowhere near brave enough. That was the sort of thing I needed alcohol to say. But if I could have alcohol, it would mean I wasn’t pregnant, which could mean Stevie and I would have got together long before when he was keen on me as something more than just a friend. ‘What about you?’ I asked.
‘Not to be alone would be up there for me too. I was wondering—’ A firework banged outside. He blinked and glanced towards the garden. You were wondering what, Stevie?
He looked back at me and cleared his throat. ‘Other than that, I want to finish decorating my third bedroom, grow my own veg, and work more collaboratively with Nick. He’s put some work my way and I’ve put some his way. I reckon we could do really well if we properly joined forces.’
‘Sounds good. Nick’s a great guy. I bet he’s really easy-going to work with.’ But I’d rather have known what he’d been wondering.
‘He is.’ Stevie stretched. ‘Can you face dessert yet or shall we move into the lounge and have it a bit later?’
I pondered for a moment. ‘Later, I think. I could squeeze some in, but I think it may push me over the edge so I’ll let the rest settle. It was delicious. You’re an amazing cook.’
‘Thank you. It was my pleasure.’
We moved into the lounge and Stevie put on some soft music. ‘Maddy and I would have had a girl.’ He sat beside me on the sofa. ‘We called her Rebecca.’
I lightly touched his arm. ‘I’m so sorry. Do you want to talk about it now?’
He fixed his eyes on mine. ‘I do, actually.’
We talked about everything: his parents, his Uncle George, my relationship with my mother, what went wrong between him and Maddy, what went wrong between me and Gary, and whether he’d seen much of Rob recently.
‘Did you know they’ve moved into an apartment on Sea Cliff?’
I nodded. ‘Gary phoned to tell me. He didn’t want me to hear it from someone else.’