‘How’s Alan doing?’
‘He’s fine,’ she says. ‘Another couple of days and they think he’ll be OK to come out.’
‘Good. We’ll pick you up about seven. See you then.’
We both hang up as Matt comes out of the bathroom in fresh clothes, rubbing his damp hair in a towel. Some of his ‘stuff’ must have involved aftershave as he smells of lemon, jasmine and musky amber.
‘I’ll swap with you and then I’ll make us cheese omelettes. Does that suit?’
‘I can do them while you shower,’ he says. ‘I’m a man of many talents.’
I grin at him. ‘I’m beginning to realise that.’
So I shower, standing under the hot water and letting it pour over me. I close my eyes and breathe deeply, but it fails to soothe me. When I come out, Matt continues making the omelettes – really excellent ones – and my stomach unknots slightly. While we eat, I tell him Lucas’s news.
‘Aurora is pregnant and he’s thrilled.’ I shake my head, still perplexed. ‘Me, less so. They’ve only been together for five minutes and I’m worried sick for them both. His dad will be beyond furious.’ And, I hope that I’m wrong, but I can’t help feeling that I’ll be the one picking up the pieces.
‘That’s tough,’ Matt says. ‘I’d find the thought of fatherhood daunting even at my age. They’re both so young.’
‘It’s because they’re young they have no idea what any of this means. I’m dreading telling Shelby. I’ll have to pick my moment.’
‘You’ll go up to Birmingham?’
‘Lucas and I are both due to go up there on Wednesday to see him in his pantomime.’ Though I feel as if my entire life is like one, right now. ‘It’ll depend on Bev being able to babysit the farm, and I don’t want to put that on her at the moment. I can leave the animals for an hour or two, but not for any longer.’
‘I’m happy to stand in,’ Matt says without hesitation.
‘I couldn’t ask. You’ve done so much already.’
‘Really, it’s not a problem. I love being here.’
‘Thank you.’ Then I cry and it’s like a floodgate has opened. I cry for me, for Lucas, for the baby they’re bringing into the world, for Shelby, for Alan in the hospital and for a whole host of other things that I can’t even articulate.
Matt holds me gently and passes me a piece of kitchen roll that was serving as a napkin. ‘It will all come right,’ he murmurs softly. ‘Not all of this is on your shoulders. Let people in to help.’
‘I’m trying to,’ I sniff. ‘I’m just so used to being by myself.’ All of it has been my responsibility for so long.
‘Well, you’re not alone any more. Lean on me if you need to, Molly.’
I let myself sag into his embrace. He feels warm, strong, reliable. It’s comforting to have him here. I think I’d go mad, otherwise. There’s part of me that’s also disappointed that Shelby isn’t here. He’s the one who should be sharing this with me.
‘We should go,’ Matt says. ‘It’ll soon be visiting time. You sit for five minutes while I clear up.’
I do as he says and watch him as he moves about my caravan, his large frame filling the space, the sheer solidity of him reassuring. I’m glad that he can stay here to look after the animals as it means I can see Shelby. But, if I’m honest, I’m not entirely sure how I feel about that.
Chapter Forty-Nine
Alan, thank the Lord and all that is holy, is coming home from the hospital today. He looked a bit frail and tired when we saw him a few nights ago, but Bev says he’s definitely on the mend. He’s come out with a lengthy list of dos and don’ts. No smoking, healthy eating, moderate alcohol, regular exercise – which will mean a complete change of regime.
I wish I could be here to help Bev but, with perfect timing, it coincides with our trip to the pantomime. As much as I’d like to, I daren’t cancel our tickets. Shelby would never forgive me, so I haven’t even mentioned it. Plus I have actually persuaded – well, forced – Lucas to come with me and I might only get this one shot at it. In truth, I don’t think I could manage it without him by my side.
Ken has just pulled up in the yard, ready to whisk us both off to pantoland. I’m scrubbed up and in the black jumpsuit Bev bought me for the opening night that we didn’t make. My fancy manicure has long gone and, I haven’t even looked, but I bet my legs are hairy again. On the plus side, I have got lipstick on and I’ve combed my hair. There’s no hay in it, which is always a bonus and never a given. My overnight bag is at my feet as we’re staying at the fancy hotel where Shelby lives during the week.
Matt is standing with the dogs, seeing us off. He’s looking at me too hard.
‘What?’
‘You look lovely,’ he says softly. ‘Very posh.’
‘Thank you.’ I feel myself flush.
‘Go and have fun. Remember to boo and hiss in all the right places.’
‘I will. I can’t thank you enough for this.’
‘I look forward to hearing all about it tomorrow,’ he says. ‘Until then, rest assured everything is in safe hands.’ He puts those safe hands on my shoulders. ‘No need to look so worried.’
That makes me smile – a bit. The students will be here for another few hours and Anna, our craft lady, is here, but I don’t like to put on him too much.
‘You’ll be OK?’
He nods. ‘We will.’
He’s capable, responsible and I don’t need to worry. But I will worry.
Lucas comes out of the caravan, man-bag over his shoulder. Looks as if he’s travelling light. He too has scrubbed up – having been ordered to under pain of death. His hair is styled, spiky. His make-up is meticulously applied – if only I could say the same for mine. He’s wearing a white shirt, skinny blue jeans and looks about twelve. For the hundredth time, I think that I cannot see Lucas as a father. He’s not even legally allowed to buy alcohol or to vote. Though it’s lawful – if ill-advised – to have sex and get married? How can that be right?
However, the moment of truth will soon be upon us. Tonight, we’ve agreed that we’ll tell Shelby that he’s going to be a grandad. Lucas is not happy about this. Well, that’s tough. I’m not prepared to bear the brunt of this by myself.
Ken opens the door and I climb in. Lucas sits in the front with him and then we’re whisked away from the sanctuary of the farm and into Shelby’s world.
The traffic is terrible and the journey is slow. It feels like we’re going to the moon rather than Birmingham and I can feel my anxiety rising.
Lucas turns to me and says, ‘Chill out. We’ve got plenty of time.’
But it’s easier said than done.
Eventually – and not a moment too soon – Ken drops us at the front door of the hotel in the centre of the city and right by the theatre where Aladdin is showing. There’s a Christmas market in the adjacent street in full festive flow. Myriad lights shine out from cheery stalls selling all manner of festive fayre. The scents of cinnamon and spices on the air are wonderful, but the crowds look terrifying. Even so, I wish we had more time to look around.