Читать книгу Mistresses: The Consequences Of Desire - Оливия Гейтс - Страница 13

SIX

Ella plucked the tray of Triple Indulgence Brownies out of the industrial oven and dropped it gingerly on the counter—her tummy hitching up towards her throat as the aroma of melting chocolate surrounded her. The rich decadent scent tasted like charcoal on her tongue. Clasping her hand over her mouth, she sliced the brownies into twelve chunks, perched the tray on the window sill to cool, and rushed into the café, her stomach wobbling alarmingly.

Taking deep, measured breaths, she berated herself and her stupid nervous tummy as she stacked the batch of mini-chocolate tarts she’d made earlier—which thankfully didn’t smell too strongly. Ruby would be here any minute and the last thing she needed was more searching looks and probing questions from her business partner—because she’d barfed all over the shop again.

She’d been tense and out of sorts for weeks. Ever since she’d got back from Bermuda and got the diagnosis she’d been dreading from her doctor, Myra Patel. That she was no longer ovulating at regular intervals—which explained the now five months without a period—because the onset of premature menopause was now a reality.

But she thought she’d come to terms with it. Or at least found a strategy to deal with her loss. Even though her biological clock was now ticking at triple time—and Myra had told her that her chances of conceiving naturally were probably remote, and getting remoter by the second—she had referred her to a specialist. Plus she and Ruby had discussed the feasibility of other options, when and if she found a life partner.

The good news was, after her wild night with Coop, there was every reason to be a lot more cheerful about her prospects when it came to relationships. Or at least sexual relationships.

Coop.

Her stomach clutched and released, the queasiness returning.

Maybe it was about time she admitted that her fertility problems weren’t the only thing that had had her down in the dumps? That her nervous stomach wasn’t just a symptom of her stress over the test results she’d got from Myra two months ago, but also her ridiculous overreaction to her one night with Cooper Delaney.

Somehow, she’d got fixated on him, picking over every minute detail of their day and night together—instead of assigning the experience to its rightful place in her past, and moving on with her real life.

So what if he’d disappeared the following morning, without leaving a note to say where he’d gone? They’d had a one-night fling. He’d owed her nothing. They lived thousands of miles apart, and he was only twenty-eight, for goodness’ sake. Not that their age difference had bothered him... Then again, maybe it had, more than he’d let on. Could that be why he’d disappeared so abruptly? Before she’d even woken up? Without bothering to say goodbye?

She folded the oven mitt she’d used into the drawer and slammed it shut.

Stop right there, you’re doing it again.

The hollow feeling of inadequacy opened up in her stomach, and the weary ache in her chest pinched her heart.

Maybe if she had left him a note...

She sighed and glanced up to see Ruby and Cal standing together on the pavement outside the shop—bidding each other goodbye as they did every morning before Cal headed for the tube station and his work as a top defence barrister in the City. The hollow weight became a gaping hole as she watched them.

Ruby threw her head back and laughed at something her husband had said. Callum said something else, that seemed to make her laugh more, but then he gripped the lapels of her coat and jerked her up onto her tiptoes, before silencing the laughter with a hungry kiss.

Ella felt the nasty dart of envy as Ruby’s arms wrapped around Cal’s neck to pull him closer. The kiss heated to scorching, Cal’s hands finding Ruby’s bottom beneath the hem of her coat. Anyone passing by would have mistaken them for newlyweds, instead of a couple who had recently celebrated their seventh wedding anniversary and had three very energetic children ranging in age from two to six.

Ella dropped her chin, and concentrated on rearranging the cookies on the display, feeling like a Peeping Tom as the nausea pitched and rolled in her belly. The doorbell tinkled, then the creak of the café door opened and slammed shut followed by the click of Ruby’s stilettos on the tiled floor.

‘Sorry I’m late. I’ll close up today to make up for it.’ Ruby’s voice sounded upbeat and pleasantly mellow, as it often did first thing in the morning. Ella frowned, dusting icing sugar over the tarts. Hard to remember now that her business partner had once been the biggest grump on the planet until she’d downed at least two cups of coffee in the morning, but that was before her fender bender with Callum Westmore nearly eight years ago.

‘That man sweet-talked me back into bed,’ Ruby added with a huff. ‘After Helga picked up the kids.’

‘Poor you,’ Ella muttered under her breath, then bit her lip to contain the sour note of sarcasm, and the bile rising up her throat.

What was the matter with her? She’d always been so happy for Ruby and Cal. It wasn’t as if their path to true love had exactly been smooth. And as for Max and Ally and Art, Ruby and Cal’s three irrepressible children, she adored them. And adored having a special place in their lives as their favourite ‘auntie’. That relationship would only become more treasured if the possibility of a childless future became a reality.

‘Ella, is everything okay?’

She put down the icing sugar to find Ruby watching her. Far too closely. Oh, no. Had she just heard that cutting remark? How was she supposed to explain it? ‘Yes, of course...’

‘Are you sure? You’re a rather strange colour.’

‘Really, I’m perfectly—’ The gag reflex struck without warning, punching Ella’s larynx and slamming her stomach into her throat. She slapped her hand over her mouth, and raced around the counter and into the restroom—getting there just in time to lose in the toilet the tea and dry toast she’d managed to force down that morning for breakfast.

* * *

‘Okay, deep breaths.’ Ruby rubbed Ella’s spine as the nausea retreated. The cool cloth felt glorious on the back of her neck as she dragged in several deep breaths.

‘How’s your stomach? All finished puking?’

‘Yes, I think so.’ Ella pressed her hand to her belly to double-check. But her stomach seemed to have settled after the retching, the strong scent of the disinfectant in the toilet nowhere near as abrasive as the brownie scent had been earlier.

Ruby flushed the toilet and anchored her arm around Ella’s waist. ‘Good, then let’s get you more comfortable.’

By the time they’d both settled in the two armchairs at the back of the café, Ruby’s careful scrutiny had Ella’s cheeks burning.

‘Any idea what caused it?’ Ruby asked.

Ella took a moment to examine the hands she had clasped in her lap.

‘From that delightful shade of rosé on your cheeks I’m guessing you do know.’ Ruby’s hand covered hers and squeezed. ‘But you don’t want to say.’

‘It’s silly.’ Ella shrugged, forced to face her friend. ‘I’m totally overreacting to a stupid holiday fling—which didn’t mean anything.’

‘Of course it meant something. You wouldn’t have slept with him if it didn’t. You’re not the casual-sex type.’

Ella breathed a heavy sigh. ‘Kind of annoying that I didn’t figure that out before I decided to jump into bed with him for a night of casual sex, isn’t it?’ The clutching sensation in her chest was back with a vengeance. ‘I miss him. I wish I’d hung around to tell him goodbye properly. Got closure. Then maybe I could stop giving myself an ulcer thinking about him constantly.’

Ruby nodded, her expression far too intuitive. ‘All excellent points. But can I suggest another possible explanation for the puking?’

Ella frowned. Why was Ruby looking at her like that? As if she was struggling to suppress a smile. ‘There is no other—’

‘Because you’re no more the highly strung, give-yourself-an-ulcer type than you are the casual-sex type.’

‘Your point?’ Ella replied a little sharply.

‘Look, you’ve been stressing about your holiday fling for weeks, I know that. But isn’t it at all possible—given the extremely hot description you gave me of your bedroom aerobics with Captain Studly—that what we just witnessed might be something more substantial than a nervous tummy?’

‘Such as?’

‘Morning sickness.’

Ella stiffened. ‘You know that’s not possible.’

‘According to Dr Patel it isn’t impossible.’

Ella’s frown became a scowl. ‘It’s only a very slight possibility. And we used condoms the whole time.’

‘As did Cal and I before we got pregnant with Arturo,’ Ruby shot straight back.

‘It’s not the same thing.’ The sour note was back. ‘You don’t have any fertility issues.’

‘I still think you should do a pregnancy test, just to be sure.’

Ella straightened in the chair. ‘I am sure.’ Sure what the result would be. And even surer that bringing back memories of another pregnancy test that she’d taken with Ruby years before would only make her current misery seem even more insurmountable.

‘Well, I’m not.’

Ella threw up her hands. ‘Yes, well, I don’t have a pregnancy test and I don’t have time to go and get one because we open in half an hour.’ Maybe if Ruby wouldn’t listen to her, at least she’d listen to reason.

‘That’s okay, because I do.’ Reaching into her handbag, Ruby produced a blue and white chemist bag from which she pulled out a telltale pink box.

‘Where did you get that?’ Ella stared, her hurt and astonishment turning to dismay.

‘Ella, you’ve been sick three times this week now.’ Grabbing Ella’s hand, Ruby slapped the box into her palm.

Ella wanted to refuse, but as she stared at the box she felt her will power crumbling in the face of Ruby’s determination.

‘Just go pee on the stick.’ Ruby closed Ella’s fingers around the box. ‘Don’t overthink this. Whatever the result is, we’ll handle it. But denial is not the answer. I’ll wait here.’

Ella stood up, her stomach folding in on itself, as the last of her will power ebbed away on a wave of exhaustion. ‘Okay, fine, but you may be waiting a long time.’ She frowned at her best friend. ‘I am so not in the mood to pee on demand right now.’

* * *

It took fifteen torturous minutes before she could get out of the toilet.

‘I left it on the vanity in there.’ She washed her hands in the shop’s sink and dosed them with anti-bacterial gel. ‘Don’t forget to dispose of it before we open,’ she added, brushing the stupid sting of tears off her cheek.

‘Ella, don’t cry. You need to know for sure.’

She didn’t dignify that with an answer, but simply set about filling the icing bag with cream-cheese frosting. She needed to be ready for the nine a.m. rush when they opened in fifteen minutes. She so did not have time for this rubbish.

She was still busy adding cream-cheese frosting in decorative swirls to the carrot cake when Ruby dashed back into the café a few minutes later. ‘I think you better look at this.’

‘Don’t bring it in here,’ she said crossly. ‘It’s covered in pee.’

‘I know that,’ Ruby replied. ‘But it’s not just any pee, it’s pregnant-lady pee.’

‘What?’ Frosting squirted across the counter as her fingers fisted on the bag involuntarily. And her heart jumped into her mouth.

‘You heard me.’ Ruby held the pee stick in front of Ella’s face like a talisman. ‘See that strong blue line? That means Ella’s going to be a mummy in exactly seven months’ time. You’re going to be ringing in the new year with your very own bundle of fun.’

She couldn’t focus, thanks to the sheen of shocked tears misting her vision. ‘But that’s not possible,’ she murmured, her voice hoarse.

Ruby laughed. ‘Um, well, clearly it is. Pregnancy tests don’t lie.’

Ella’s unfocused gaze raised to Ruby’s smiling face. ‘I should take another one. It might be wrong.’

‘Take as many as you like, but there’s no such thing as a false positive with these things. I took six tests with Art. And they all came out exactly the same. Assuming it was definitely you who peed on that stick, it’s definitely you who’s pregnant.’

Ella collapsed into the chair beside the cash register. Her knees trembling now almost as violently as her hands—which clutched the bag of frosting in a death grip as it dripped onto the floor.

‘I’m going to have a baby.’ The words sounded fragile and far away, as if they had been said by someone else, as if they could be extinguished if she said them too loudly.

Ruby stroked her back as she crouched beside her and wrapped her hand round Ella’s wrist. ‘Yes, you are.’

The tears welled and flowed, her whole body shaking now, at the memory of a similar test so long ago. The joy then had felt scary, terrifying, but so small and sweet. This time it didn’t feel small, it felt huge, like a living, breathing thing that couldn’t be contained within her skin, but so much more scary and terrifying too.

Dumping the pregnancy test in the bin, Ruby washed and dried her hands, then tugged a couple of wet wipes from the dispenser on the counter. ‘I take it those are happy tears?’ Ruby took the icing bag out of Ella’s numb fingers and began cleaning the mess of cream-cheese frosting with the wipes.

Ella nodded, the lump in her throat too solid and overwhelming to talk around.

‘Am I allowed to say I told you so, then?’

Ella’s eyes focused at last, and she swept her arms round her friend’s shoulders and clung on tight, too overwhelmed to care about the smug smile on Ruby’s face.

‘I don’t deserve this chance.’ She sobbed as Ruby hugged her.

Ruby moved back, and held her arms. ‘Don’t say that.’ She gave her a slight shake. ‘What you did then, you did for the right reasons.’

Ella folded her arms over her stomach, as if to protect the precious life within and stop the guilt from consuming the joy. ‘I’m not so sure about that.’

Ruby tugged a tissue out of her pocket, to dab at Ella’s eyes. ‘You were eighteen years old Ella, you had your whole life ahead of you, and it was a mistake. You made the only choice you could in the circumstances.’ She placed the damp tissue in the palm of Ella’s hand, rolled her fist over it, and held on. ‘Don’t you think it’s about time to forgive yourself?’

She would never be able to forgive herself, not completely, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t protect this child with every fibre of her being. This time she wouldn’t mess it up. ‘I want to.’

Ruby’s lips quirked. ‘Okay, next question. Because I’m going to assume the “Do you want to have this baby?” question is a no-brainer.’

Ella bobbed her head as the small smile spread. ‘Yes, it is.’

‘Brilliant. So next question, how do we contact Captain Studly? Do you have like a card for his tour company or something?’

‘What? No.’ The joy cracked, like the crumbling top of a newly baked muffin, exposing the soft centre beneath. ‘We can’t tell him. He doesn’t need to know.’

‘Calm down.’ Ruby gripped her fingers tight. ‘There’s no need to panic. You don’t have to do anything yet.’

The memory of his voice, smooth, seductive, husky, and so sexy asking, ‘Are you on the pill?’ seemed to float in the air around the café, mocking her.

What happened if she told him and he reacted the same way Randall had? He was still in his twenties; he lived in a beach hut; he picked up women in bars. He was exciting, reckless, charming, sexier than any one she’d ever met, and probably the least likely guy on the planet to welcome news like this.

‘And he’s not necessarily going to freak out the way Randall did,’ Ruby said, doing her mind-reading thing.

Oh, yes, he will.

‘I don’t want to risk it.’ She tugged her hands out of Ruby’s. ‘Why do I have to tell him?’

‘Because it’s his baby, and he has a right to know,’ Ruby said, in that patient I-know-what’s-best voice that she’d acquired ever since having kids. Ella had always thought it was so sweet. Now she was finding it more than a little patronising.

‘But suppose he’d rather not know?’

‘How can you possibly know that?’ Ruby replied.

She opened her mouth to tell Ruby how he’d asked her if she was on the pill and how the correct answer had somehow got lost in the heat of the moment. But then shut it again. She didn’t want Ruby to think she’d deliberately tricked him, because she hadn’t. But even thinking about that conversation now made her feel as if she had, which would only tarnish the perfection of this moment.

‘He lives in Bermuda. I don’t need his support.’ Especially as he didn’t have any money. ‘I’m more than solvent on my own and—’

‘That’s not the point. He’s the baby’s father. By not telling him you’re not giving him the choice, or the baby the choice to know him when it gets older. Think of how much it screwed up Nick when he found out our dad wasn’t his biological father,’ she said, reminding Ella of her brother Nick, who had run away from home in his teens when he’d discovered the truth about his parentage and had only recently come back into Ruby’s life.

‘It’s not the same thing at all,’ Ella protested. It wasn’t as if she planned never to tell her child who its father was; she just didn’t see why she had to tell the father right this second.

‘I know it’s not, but what I’m trying to say is you can’t keep those kinds of secrets. It’s not fair on either one of them.’

Ella wanted to say life wasn’t fair. But the truth was she’d never believed that. Life could be fair, if you made the effort to make it so.

She wanted to deny he had any right to know. This was her child. Her responsibility. And she didn’t want to consider his rights, his reaction. But even as the panic sat under her breastbone, ready to leap up her throat and cut off her air supply, she pictured Coop’s face, the genuine smile, those emerald eyes twinkling with humour, and knew that not telling him would be taking the coward’s way out.

While she never would have planned to have a child alone, that was what she’d be doing—because fate had handed her this incredible gift. And while it was very likely that Coop wouldn’t want to know about this baby, she had to at least give him the option of saying no. Because she had to give her child the chance to know its father. However slim that chance might be.

Ruby patted her hand. ‘How about we leave this discussion for another day? You really don’t have to do this yet.’

A loud tapping had them both turning to see the whole of the Hampstead Heath Mother and Baby Stroller Work-Out Class crowded around the door, looking sweaty and dishevelled and in desperate need of light refreshments.

Jumping up, Ella headed round the counter, to flip the sign on the door to open and welcome them in. As they smiled and wheeled their babies proudly into the café, chatting about the Hitler who ran the class, Ella smiled back, amazed to realise the lethagy that had dragged her down for days had vanished.

‘Wait, Ella, are you sure you don’t want to go home and rest? I can handle the Yummies,’ Ruby offered as she joined her behind the counter.

Ella grinned back at her, the ball of panic lifting too.

She had time to think about how to tell Cooper; how to break the news to him without making him feel responsible. And really, while the thought of what she had to tell him wasn’t easy, the fact that she had a reason to speak to him again felt surprisingly good. ‘No need. I feel great.’

Ruby laughed back, her own face beaming with pleasure. ‘Just wait till tomorrow morning when you’re crouched over the toilet bowl again. Actually, we better get some buckets for the duration.’

Ella spent the morning chatting to the mums, serving tea and freshly baked cakes and cookies, whipping up a succession of speciality coffees, while she admired their children, and struggled to contain the silly grin at how totally amazing her life suddenly was.

She’d speak to Cooper soon. Ruby was right: it would be wrong not to. But it had been an accident. And really, she didn’t need to think about all the particulars just yet. Right now, all she really had to do was bask in the miracle occurring inside her. And focus on making sure she gave her baby the best possible chance to thrive. And if that meant eventually finding the courage to tell its father about their happy accident, she’d do it, somehow.