Читать книгу The Wedding - Caroline Anderson - Страница 4

WATCHING Jem slowly recover his strength was both a joy and a relief, but unbelievably draining.

Every hour brought further progress—sitting up in bed, then sitting out, then standing for a moment on his right leg as he swivelled onto the chair for himself. It was like watching a time-lapse sequence of a baby turning into a toddler, but Kate was more than happy to sit through it. She was looking forward to seeing him walk again, to seeing him run, but for now, she was just glad he was alive and making progress.

And to know she’d be going home to the barn every night with Nick. She felt that if she pinched herself, she’d wake up and find it was all a dream, and the thought was frightening.

They’d moved in last night, collecting just enough clothes and linen to see them over the next few days, and then he’d cooked for her—not Ben’s chilli, but a cold chicken and ham pie from the farm shop, with a lovely fresh salad and boiled new potatoes, followed by some utterly delectable honey and ginger ice cream made on the farm.

And they’d talked about telling Jem. Today. Later, after Nick arrived. He was at the surgery now, doing a clinic and seeing a few patients, and then he was coming over and they were going to tell him.

Somehow. She still had no idea how.

She went for a walk up the corridor to see Gemma and her baby while they took out Jem’s catheter, to his relief, and then they moved him to the ward downstairs, which was for the children who were on the mend; it had access on one side to a courtyard with seats and toys and lots of things to look at, and on the other side, right near his bed, was the courtyard with the ducklings.

Five of them, they finally concluded, watching them peck about amongst the moss and bark chips, brown and yellow and fluffy and very cute. They watched them for ages, until at last the mother tucked them back under her wings for a rest, and he went back to his games console.

He was allowed other visitors now, and the first people to come in the afternoon were Rob and Matthew.

The boys had plenty to talk about and they left them to it. Rob took her hand and squeezed it fleetingly. ‘How are you? It must have been hell—have you coped OK?’

She nodded. ‘Yes. It’s been pretty awful, but Nick’s been great. Rob—there’s something you need to know.’

He shook his head and smiled. ‘I know already—I can see it in your eyes, and I’m really pleased for you. You go for it. I know how you feel. Your heart will never really belong to anybody else, just as mine won’t, but at least you’ve now got that chance, and you have to take it.’ He glanced at Jem, his head close to Matt’s, bent over the games console. ‘Does Jem know yet?’ he asked softly.

‘The paternity thing?’ she murmured. ‘No. Or about Nick and me. That’s so new I’m not sure I know about it, really.’

He smiled. ‘I think Jem will be fine with it once he’s used to the idea. Is there anything I can do, anything I can get you?’

She shook her head. ‘No. Just bring Matt to see him sometimes. He’s going to be horribly bored. Oh, and we’ve taken a rented barn up near the Trevellyans’ farm, with some bedrooms and a shower room on the ground floor, in case he can’t manage stairs for a while. I’ll give you the directions. Matt can come and stay later on, if you like. It’ll give Jem something to look forward to when he comes out.’

‘That would be really nice. Look, is Nick all right about this? He does realise I’m just bringing Matt to see Jem?’

‘Yes, he does. And he’s fine with it. He likes you.’

Rob laughed softly. ‘That’s good of him. I’m not sure I’d be so generous in his shoes. I hope you can make this work.’

So did she, but they still had the hurdle of the great reveal, as she was beginning to call it in her head, and she couldn’t really think past that.

They didn’t stay long, and Nick appeared soon afterwards. She wondered if he’d been lurking somewhere, waiting until the coast was clear, giving them space.

She didn’t know. He’d been a little odd with her that morning, maybe because of the barn and being there alone together. She’d gone to bed early, closing her door quite firmly, and he’d gone up a short while later. She’d seen his light come on, seen it go off shortly afterwards, and she wondered if he’d slept as well as her. They were both tired, both drained, and he’d looked better at breakfast, but he’d been quiet, a little distracted.

‘So, how’s it going?’ he asked Jem. ‘Worked your way up another level yet?’

‘My battery’s flat again,’ he said. ‘I had to ask the nurses upstairs to charge it, but I don’t know any of the nurses down here so I don’t know who to ask.’

‘I can charge it for you,’ he said. ‘We’ve got to go soon—we’re going to pick Bruno up from Chloe and take him back to the barn and settle him in, so it can be charging while we do that and we can bring it back this evening.’

‘Great—and then can we do the face thing on it, Uncle Nick?’

‘Yes, I’m sure we can,’ he said, and there was a flicker of emotion in his eyes, just as there always was when Jem called him that. And Kate got a stupid lump in her throat, just as she always did. But maybe not for much longer. She felt a shiver of dread, and stifled it. It would be fine. It would.

He found the charger in the locker, and packed it up with the console and put it in her bag, and they went back to the barn, put it on charge and collected Bruno. He was so excited to see her, she thought the young dog was going to wag his tail right off, and her eyes filled with tears.

‘Oh, sweetheart, have you missed me? I’m so sorry,’ she said, getting down on the floor with him and hugging him, but he was too excited, and bounced around barking, and Chloe laughed and let him out into the garden so he could race round like a lunatic and have a mad five minutes with Chloe and Oliver’s little bitch from the same litter of flat-coated retriever puppies.

‘It’s been a bit hectic on the puppy-sitting front this last week,’ Chloe admitted when Kate thanked her yet again for her kindness. ‘I haven’t even had time to see Gemma yet—how’s the baby?’

Kate smiled. ‘Gorgeous. He’s absolutely gorgeous. I had the nicest cuddle yesterday morning. One of the advantages of being a midwife—I can pull rank and sneak in outside visiting hours! But they were coming home today, so you should be able to pop over there anytime over the weekend.’

‘Oh, I will, don’t worry!’ Chloe laughed. ‘I’ll give her ten minutes to settle in, and I’ll be there. Right, young man, back inside and settle down, and then I think you’re going to go to your new home. That’ll be a bit exciting, won’t it?’

Bruno wagged and leant up against her leg, tongue lolling and a big smile on his face, and Kate clipped his lead on.

‘Come on, you big hussy. That’s enough flirting,’ Nick said, and put him in his crate in the back of his estate car—much, much easier to transport him in—and they drove back to the barn and introduced him to the house.

‘It’s a good job they don’t mind pets here,’ she said, wondering how much damage he would do, but he hadn’t wrecked anything at home yet, and she hoped if he settled here quickly, there wouldn’t be a problem.

‘Can you put him in the crate, if necessary?’ Nick asked, reading her mind, and she nodded.

‘Yes, but I hardly ever use it, he’s been so good. And I’ve got him a new rope toy to play with. That might keep him occupied.’

They took him out and let him run around in the garden, and he christened a few of the bushes and came back inside, flopping down in a patch of sunshine on the wooden floor of the dining room and watching them from under his eyebrows as they made a pot of tea.

‘We mustn’t forget to take this back,’ Kate said, checking the charge on the games console while Nick poured the tea, and while she waited for it to cool and stared at the view, he cut them thick slices of the lemon drizzle cake and put one down in front of her.

‘I’ll be like a house,’ she protested, but he just smiled.

‘You haven’t put an ounce on in years,’ he told her. ‘You work too hard.’

‘Well, I’m not working now.’

‘No, but you haven’t been eating in the hospital.’

‘That’s rubbish, I’ve been eating junk food! Except for the pie last night, and that was hardly low calorie.’

‘It was good, though, and let’s face it, a little weight on you won’t hurt. You’ll just get curvier, and there’s nothing wrong with that. You’ve got a beautiful body, Kate. Be proud of it.’

She met his eyes and saw the heat flicker in them before he banked it, and she felt tears clog her throat. He didn’t know what he was talking about. Maybe once, but not any more. Not since her surgery.

She looked away. ‘I’d rather not gain if I can avoid it,’ she said, ‘so I hope you’re planning something low calorie for supper.’

‘Not tonight,’ he said with a wry laugh. ‘Tonight is Ben’s chilli, but I’ll cut down on the oil and it’s extralean steak mince. And kidney beans are good for you. Anyway, you’ll love it, it’s a great recipe—assuming I can pull it off.’

She raised an eyebrow. ‘Isn’t it a bit ambitious for you?’ she asked, glad to get off the topic of her body. ‘I mean, I know you’re trying to spoil me, but we all know you’re the king of the ready meals aisle.’

He laughed and picked up his cake. ‘I don’t know. We’ll see, won’t we?’ He took a bite of the cake and put it down, then stared back out of the window, his smile fading. A quiet sigh eased from his body, and he turned to her, his eyes troubled.

‘How are we going to tell him, Kate?’ he asked softly.

She gave a helpless little shrug. ‘I have absolutely no idea.’

In the end, it was easy.

Jem was sitting up in his bed when they arrived, waiting for them. They gave him the games console and settled themselves down, Kate on the armchair by the bed where he sat during the day when he was allowed out, and Nick on a hard plastic chair facing them, so they could both see him.

There was a child in a bed near Jem who was having a blood transfusion, and he looked around, his eyes tracking to his drip and up to the bag of blood running slowly into him. He watched it drip for a moment, then said thoughtfully, ‘I wonder who my blood came from?’

She saw Nick stiffen slightly, and their eyes met. Was this it? The time? She felt her heart thump against her ribs, and he gave her an imperceptible nod.

‘It could have been Uncle Nick,’ she said quietly. ‘Or Jack. They took some from both of them. You’re B-negative—it’s a fairly rare blood group and they’d run out, and you have to have the same otherwise it makes you very ill.’

‘And you’re the same as me?’ he asked, looking straight at Nick.

She saw his jaw clench. ‘Yes.’

‘That was lucky. Are you the same, Mum?’

She shook her head. ‘No.’ His head swivelled back to Nick. ‘So how did they know we were the same?’

‘They tested you. I know mine, because I give blood regularly. So does Jack.’ He hesitated, then said carefully, ‘You inherit the genes that determine your blood group from one or other of your parents,’ he said, and then waited.

Jem frowned. ‘So—my dad must have been B-negative, too, then?’

‘Yes.’

It wasn’t strictly true. His father could have been AB, but they both knew he wasn’t, and thankfully Nick didn’t complicate it any more than it already was. Because the essence of it was already registering, Kate could see.

‘And it’s rare?’ Jem was saying, a little frown pleating his brow, and she saw the muscle in Nick’s jaw flicker again.

‘Yes. Yes, it’s rare. Less than three in a hundred people.’

The frown deepened, and his eyes swivelled to Kate’s. ‘That’s weird.’

‘Not really.’ She could feel her heart pounding, and she swallowed before continuing, ‘Jem, there’s something you need to know, something I should have told you before.’

She saw the light dawn in his eyes, and he turned his head slowly back to Nick and stared at him hard. ‘Are you my father?’ he asked, his voice flat.

She saw Nick’s throat work, and he nodded slightly. ‘Yes,’ he said, his voice gruff. ‘Yes, I am.’

For an endless moment he just stared at Nick in silence, and Kate could see the pulse beating in his throat.

‘But—how? I thought—Why didn’t you tell me? Why did you tell me my dad was dead?’ he asked, turning back to Kate and spearing her with accusing eyes. ‘I thought I didn’t have a father, but if Uncle Nick’s my father, I could have had a dad all my life! Why didn’t you tell me?’

Her stomach knotted into a ball at the look in his eyes. ‘I couldn’t. Nick was married, he had a family, and I didn’t think making them all sad would make us any happier, and it wouldn’t have helped us. We had each other, Jem. We were all right—’

‘No, we weren’t! I didn’t have a dad. I wanted a dad—I’ve always wanted a dad. But I thought he was dead, and all the time he was alive and you didn’t tell me! If I hadn’t had the accident, if I hadn’t needed his blood, would you have told me? Ever?’

She swallowed down the tears. ‘Of course I would. I always knew I’d have to tell you one day when the time was right, I just didn’t know when that would be. We’ve been trying to work out how to do it without hurting you.’

He stared reproachfully at her, then at Nick again, and asked him a question she’d asked herself over and over. ‘Why don’t you want to be my dad?’

Nick flinched as if he’d been kicked in the gut. ‘I do.’

‘You don’t,’ Jem said firmly. ‘When we were on the beach flying the kite, ages ago, after Christmas last year, that American lady said I was like my father, and I laughed, and you said you couldn’t do this and stormed off. I didn’t understand, but that was it, wasn’t it? She realised you were my dad, and you didn’t want me to know, so you walked away, because you don’t want to be my father.’

‘I do.’

‘No, you don’t!’ he said, his voice rising, a catch in it. ‘If you did want to, you would have stayed, you would have told me then. But you didn’t want me.’

‘I did want you, Jeremiah,’ Nick said hoarsely. ‘I do want you—more than you can ever imagine. But I didn’t think you’d want me. The man you’ve always thought was your father was a hero, a brave man. How could I be as good as that?’

He stopped abruptly, turning to the window and propping his hand on the frame, staring out into the courtyard. Kate could see the muscles working in his jaw, see the tears tracking down his cheek, and she reached out a hand and laid it against his side in comfort. He closed his eyes and swallowed, and she dropped her hand and turned back to her son.

‘Don’t blame him, Jem,’ she said softly. ‘It was me who lied to you, me who let you believe my husband was your father. And Nick didn’t know. I didn’t tell him for ages, because of Auntie Annabel. It wouldn’t have been fair to her. He’s only known for two years.’

‘So why didn’t you tell him before? After Auntie Annabel died, why didn’t you tell him then? You could have told him then,’ he said, his voice accusing.

‘I didn’t know how,’ she said softly. ‘He was very sad and angry when she died, and he was very busy at work sorting out the practice. It wouldn’t have been a good time. There was never a good time. I thought there would be, I kept waiting, but then—when he did know—’

‘I tried,’ Nick said, turning back from the window again, his face taut. ‘It may not seem like it, but I did try. But James was a hard act to follow. I thought maybe you’d be happier with things as they were, with me just as Uncle Nick, just as I’ve always been. And I tried to spend more time with you, quality time, to get to know you and let you get to know me, and I thought we might be getting somewhere, but then that woman commented on us looking alike, and I panicked. I wasn’t sure the time was right, and I was so worried I’d make it worse. And just when I thought we ought to try again, your mother met Rob, and they seemed to be getting on so well. He’s a good man, and I thought he’d make you a good father, a much better father than I would. You all seemed to be so happy together, and I didn’t feel I had the right to destroy that. What good would it have done, Jem? I could have ruined it for you, for all of you. I didn’t want to do that. I didn’t have the right—’

‘But you’re my real father,’ Jem sobbed, his bruised face anguished. ‘You should have told me! I should have known.’ I don’t care if you’re complete rubbish. It’s better than being dead!’ And he turned his face into the pillow and sobbed brokenly.

Kate leant forwards, resting a hand on his shoulder, but he shrugged her off, and she bit her lip and tried to stop the tears, but they fell anyway, coursing down her cheeks and dripping off her chin, and then she felt Nick’s arms round her, cradling her gently against his side as he perched on the arm of the chair.

‘Shh. Come on, he’ll be all right,’ he murmured, his voice ragged. ‘He’ll come round.’

‘No, I won’t,’ Jem sobbed from the depths of the pillow. ‘I won’t be all right. Leave me alone! I hate you both! Go away!’

And then she felt Nick shudder, felt the pain tearing through him, and she slid her arms around his waist and hung on.

‘Come on, let’s give him some space,’ he muttered after a few seconds, but she wouldn’t leave him.

‘I can’t go. Not now. You go, leave me with him. I’ll talk to him.’

‘Will you be all right?’

She lifted her tear-stained face to him and tried to smile. ‘I’ll have to be, won’t I? I have to do this, Nick. He’s my son.’

A tremor ran through him, and he stood up. ‘I’ll see you later—I’ll give you an hour. Call me if you need me to come back,’ he said, and, closing the curtains around the bed, he walked swiftly away.

She watched him go, listened to the sound of his footsteps retreating, and then she turned back to Jem, biting her lip and wondering how on earth she could unravel this sorry mess of hurt and lies and broken trust that they’d created.

She had no idea. She just knew she had to find a way.

Tentatively, with nothing but love on her side, she reached out her hand and touched him.

‘I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry,’ she said unsteadily, and after a moment he opened his eyes and turned his head to look at her.

‘Why?’ he asked, his voice breaking. ‘Why didn’t you tell me? I could have kept a secret. All these years, I thought I didn’t have a dad, that I’d never have a dad. And then you met Rob, and I thought maybe he could be my stepdad, but all the time I had a real father, and I didn’t know!’

‘I know. But you do at least know him, even if you didn’t realise he was your father. I’ve made sure you see him regularly, and he knows you, and all about you. I did everything I could under the circumstances. Don’t blame him, Jem. It was my fault, too, and he didn’t have any choice. I kept it from him too. And I’m so sorry we’ve hurt you.’

He sniffed, but the tears still welled, and, unable to bear it, she got up and leant over, taking him gently into her arms, and he burrowed his face into the side of her neck.

Nick held it together just long enough to get out of St Piran, and then he pulled over on the coast road into a parking area, got out of the car and sucked in a lungful of the fresh, salt air.

If he’d been that sort of man, he could have wept bitter, anguished tears for the son he’d let down and all the years that had been lost. Years he couldn’t give him back, years that were gone for ever. But he wasn’t, and so he shoved it all aside and concentrated his efforts on the future.

If it took him till the end of his life, he vowed, he’d do his best to build a relationship with this child.

He got back in the car and drove to his house. There were some things he needed to pick up, and he could be alone there, think things through.

Except he wasn’t alone. Sam Cavendish was there, just coming out of his mother’s house next door, and he propped himself against the fence and frowned at Nick.

‘You look like hell. Fancy a drink?’

‘No, I’m going back to the hospital. We just told him.’

Sam winced sympathetically. ‘Ouch. How did it go?’

‘Pretty much as expected. Why don’t you come in? I don’t really want to talk about it here.’

So Sam followed him into the house and propped himself up on the worktop while Nick put the kettle on, for something to do as much as anything.

‘So—what happened?’ Sam prompted.

Nick sighed and rammed a hand through his hair. ‘There was a kid in there having a blood transfusion, and Jem was asking about where his own blood transfusion had come from, and it sort of followed from there. He’s the same blood group as me.’

‘Yeah, Jack told me,’ Sam said. ‘And how did he take it?’

‘Badly. He’s angry. He said he’d spent nearly eleven years thinking he didn’t have a father, and all the time he did, and he said…’ His voice cracked, and he coughed again and flexed his fingers. ‘He said he didn’t care if I was complete rubbish, it was better than being dead.’

Sam snorted. ‘Well, I’d agree with him if my own wasn’t so useless he might as well be dead, but what made him think you’d be rubbish?’

‘I did. I told him James was a hard act to follow, that he might have preferred a hero. Apparently not. I didn’t realise Jack had told you about the blood group thing.’

‘Mmm. He was angry, but he’s not really surprised.’

Nick’s head snapped up and he stared at Sam, stunned. ‘What makes you say that?’

Sam laughed softly. ‘Oh, come on, Nick, everyone knows you’ve always loved Kate.’