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Chapter 5

~

Alex sleeps soundly until about half past nine the following morning, and when he wakes up, he reaches out for me and puts his arms around me. I feel wooden and cold in his embrace. He kisses the top of my head.

‘I’m sorry if I upset you,’ he says.

I open my mouth to object to the ‘if’, but I stop myself in time.

Instead I say, ‘I’m sorry, too.’

‘I think I had one too many,’ he offers by way of an explanation. ‘It was an emotional day.’

Hannah’s words as I was applying the mascara yesterday echo in my head. She’d predicted – correctly – that I’d cry yesterday. I should have realised then that it would all affect Alex, too.

He gets out of bed and stretches. He’s still wearing only his boxers and as I gaze in admiration at his toned body, I can feel myself thawing.

‘’S’OK,’ I mumble.

He pecks my cheek and heads for the bathroom. And just like that, peace returns. It seems trivial all of a sudden, almost as if we didn’t fall out. I’m left feeling I’ve made last night’s disagreement out to be far worse than it really was.

When he has showered, Alex reappears in the doorway, drying his dark curls with a white towel. He has another one around his waist.

‘Shall we walk home?’ he asks.

‘How far is it?’

As soon as the words have left my mouth, I regret asking the question. Alex has discouraged me from doing any sport since I’ve moved in with him. I like running, swimming and cycling, although, unlike Alex, I’ve never been tempted to try out any of those activities competitively, but apart from the walk we went on together when I first arrived in the Lake District, I’ve hardly been out.

Alex even expressed his disapproval a few weeks ago when I walked the short distance into the village of Grasmere. I know he’s concerned about me, but lately I’ve been feeling cooped up.

‘About four miles. Part of it is along the same paths we took when we did the Coffin Trail the first weekend you were here.’ Alex is standing at the mirror in the bathroom, the door wide open, and I watch him rub moisturising cream into his face. ‘We both brought casual clothes,’ he continues. ‘Have you got some decent shoes?’ He doesn’t pause for me to answer. ‘I could pick up our stuff later. It would certainly help clear my head.’

I’m not sure if he means he’s hungover or if he still needs to get our argument out of his system.

‘And it would save us paying for a taxi,’ he adds, as if he’s trying to win me over and that will clinch the deal.

‘Alex, I think walking home is a great idea.’

‘Hmm. On second thought … it wouldn’t be good for the baby.’

‘Alex, the baby’s fine.’

As if to confirm this, the baby pushes my tummy, ever so faintly, from inside.

‘But you lost so much blood.’

‘I didn’t lose a lot. It was in early pregnancy. It happens sometimes, apparently, and it hasn’t happened since. The baby is all right. Really.’

‘If you’re sure. Have a shower and then we’ll go downstairs and get some brekky.’

Alex has used both large hotel towels, and he has dropped the one he dried his hair with on the floor in the bathroom. With a little difficulty because of the size of my bump, I bend down and pick it up, resisting the temptation to make a comment – it’s only a bit damp after all – and seconds later, the hot water gushing out of the shower jet is washing away the tension from my shoulders.

I keep thinking Alex will change his mind. He has been very worried about the baby, and I’m convinced he’ll phone for a taxi instead of going through with his suggestion. But after breakfast, we arrange to leave our suitcases at the hotel and set off for home on foot.

As we walk, Alex chats about the weather and about his mum. I’m not sure if he’s excited or wired, or merely trying to avoid an awkward silence. He doesn’t seem to need much input from me, so I tune out and try to sift through my thoughts.

I wonder if Alex reacts badly to alcohol. Some people lose their temper or their self-control when they’ve been drinking. At least Alex wasn’t violent. I try to imagine everything that happened from his point of view. He’d probably been pleased with himself for buying me that present. Perhaps he’d put a lot of thought into it and the red heart was deliberate rather than a coincidence. If that was the case, then he must have been hurt to see that I wasn’t wearing it.

The fact that we didn’t make love on our wedding night shouldn’t matter to me, should it? It would have seemed inappropriate after our row and, anyway, the idea that I had in my head all through the night – that our marriage hadn’t been consummated – is an old-fashioned concept. It belongs to a time when people didn’t have sex before marriage. I glance down at my tummy. We did, and look what happened. And Alex stepped up to the occasion. He asked me to move in with him and marry him so that we could be a family.

‘Any ideas?’

His question interrupts my thoughts. I haven’t got a clue what he has been talking about. I give him a blank stare. ‘Sorry. I was miles—’

‘I was thinking “Leo” or “Liam” if it’s a boy.’

He wants to discuss baby names. I’m not keen on Leo. ‘I like both of those,’ I say.

‘Liam is an Irish name. It would go well with yours. Kaitlyn and Liam. And mine, come to think of it! Liam Riley!’

I smile, a little wistfully. ‘My mum would have liked that. Her Irish heritage passed down to her grandson.’

‘Oh God, he might have ginger hair, the poor thing,’ he says, elbowing me in jest.

I don’t find it funny, but I smile, a little tightly. He’s right, though. Louisa and I got teased at school – even bullied a few times – just because of our hair colour.

‘What about girls’ names?’ he asks.

‘I love the name “Chloe,”’ I say.

‘I do, too,’ Alex says. He takes my hand.

Well, that was easy. Alex is back to himself this morning. So, why do I feel the need to weigh up every word I say before I speak? Why do I get the impression I’m walking on eggshells with him?

‘Do you still want to know if it’s a boy or a girl?’ Alex asks.

Why is he asking me that? I look at him, trying to second-guess what’s going on in his head, but his expression is inscrutable. When I’d gone for the first scan, alone at the Musgrove Park Hospital in Taunton, it had been too early to tell the baby’s sex. When Alex and I went together for the second scan at Helme Chase Maternity Unit in Kendal, Alex was adamant that he didn’t want to know. I did. I needed our baby to have an identity. I wanted our baby to have a name. I dreamt of buying suitable baby clothes and not having to settle for neutral greys, yellows and whites.

But Alex said he needed some time. He didn’t want to consider a baby girl as a replacement for Poppy and Violet, or as a second chance at happiness when things had gone so badly with his ex-wife Melanie that he could now no longer see his daughters. He argued that as he’d already had two baby girls, he also had to get used to the idea that this baby might be a boy.

We went in for the scan, without having come to an agreement, about a month ago now. In the end, it turned out the baby was in a position that made it difficult for the sonographer to be sure of its sex anyway. And that solved the problem.

‘It’s too late now,’ I say. ‘Have you changed your mind?’

‘A bit,’ he admits. ‘I’m ready now. Either way.’

‘Well, that’s good,’ I say, as we stop walking for Alex to tie up his shoelace, ‘and now we know we’re expecting a Chloe or a Liam.’

Rydal Water stretches along to our left and the views as we walk are so spectacular that any anxiety I’m feeling soon dissipates. Alex holds my hand for most of the way, swinging my arm from time to time or lifting my hand to his lips to kiss it.

When we get home, Alex opens the front door, but Jet bounds towards him, barking and growling with his hairs standing up in a ridge along his back. Alex quickly closes the door again and we wait in the porch until Dad has calmed the dog down.

We find Hannah and Julie in the kitchen making lunch. There are dirty frying pans and utensils stacked up next to the draining board and the tiled floor is filthy. I sneak a peek at Alex, biting my lip. I know how much he likes everything to be tidy, but if the chaos in his kitchen annoys him, he doesn’t show it.

Jet, who seconds ago didn’t want to let Alex into his own house, is now trying to earn his forgiveness by licking the skin off his hand. Alex pats him on the head.

‘What a nice surprise,’ he says to Hannah and Julie. ‘What can I do to help, ladies?’

Without waiting for a reply, he washes his hands and dries them on the tea towel, which has been draped over the back of a kitchen chair. As he hangs up the tea towel in its place on the hook next to the fridge, he flashes his winning smile at my sister, who is soon issuing him with instructions to chop the onions and set the table.

I sit down at the table next to my dad, who, half-moon glasses at the end of his nose and pen in hand, is doing the crossword in the newspaper. I observe Alex, Hannah and Julie as they chat and laugh amiably while preparing the meal. I wish I could be as cheerful. All morning, I’ve been feeling as if there’s a snake uncoiling in my stomach somewhere behind Chloe or Liam, its writhing eclipsing the baby’s kicking. For now at least, the snake is dormant. The baby seems to be asleep, too. I haven’t felt it move for a few hours now.

But last night’s events are still replaying on a confusing loop in my head. I want to discuss what happened with Hannah and Julie. I get my chance after the meal while Oscar, Archie and Daniel are playing football in the garden and my dad is dozing in an armchair in the living room. Alex has gone to pick up our stuff from the hotel, and Julie, Hannah and I are clearing up in the kitchen.

‘So, how was last night?’ Hannah asks with an attempt at a lascivious wink.

‘Not too much info, please,’ Julie says. ‘You’re my little sister and I’d rather you didn’t fill me in on the details!’

When I don’t join in their banter, Hannah says, ‘Is something the matter?’

‘Well, yes. When we got up to our bedroom, Alex had a kind of … meltdown.’

‘What do you mean?’ Julie asks, the smile vanishing from her face.

‘He got really angry about the necklace I lost.’

Only now do I realise I can’t tell them the whole story. The necklace Julie lent me is broken. I can’t tell her that.

‘Maybe that’s understandable,’ my sister says. She puts the dishcloth down and turns to face me.

‘Yeah, I’m sure he was tired after such an emotional day,’ Hannah agrees.

If anyone uses the word ‘emotional’ again, I might throw a tantrum myself. I can feel my head moving up and down automatically like one of those toy dogs on the rear shelf of a car. I sit down on a wooden chair.

‘What did he say?’ Julie asks.

‘I can’t remember his exact words,’ I say, furrowing my brow. ‘He was very upset that I’d lost it and embarrassed that I’d roped you all into searching the house for it. Oh, yeah, then he asked if one my ex-boyfriends had given me Mum’s necklace as a present.’ I sigh wistfully, reminded of the K&K necklace Kevin gave me long ago. ‘Alex fell asleep while I was in the bathroom, so we didn’t get to … you know …’

Hannah snorts. ‘Sorry! Sorry!’ she says, holding up her hands as though I’m about to shoot her.

I know what she’s thinking. The same thing occurred to me.

‘I’m making a big deal out of this unnecessarily, aren’t I?’

Now it’s Julie’s turn to do the plastic dog nod. Then she turns back to the sink and starts to wash up a saucepan.

‘Aww. Don’t worry, sweetie,’ Hannah says. ‘You’re bound to have a few teething problems.’

Alex seems to be thinking along similar lines as we get ready for bed that evening. ‘You know, I think we’re coping pretty well with the situation,’ he says. ‘Most couples get to know each other, then they move in together, and if that works out they start to think about getting married and finally they start a family. We sort of did all that at once.’ He grins at me. ‘We’ll get there.’

I return his smile. It has been a lovely day. Alex has been a hospitable host to my family, and he has been attentive and affectionate to me. So, why do I still have this uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach? Is it groundless fear or gut instinct?

It all but disappears as we make love that evening. But when it’s over and Alex wraps me in his arms, I realise with a jolt that I haven’t felt the baby move for a while. When was the last time Chloe or Liam kicked? I try to remember. For a few minutes, I rub my stomach, making circular movements, hoping to stimulate the baby. But nothing happens.

‘Alex?’

There’s a grunt in response, but he’s almost asleep. That’s probably just as well. He’d say we shouldn’t have walked home. Perhaps he was right.

~

I sleep through the night, which is unusual for me as I’ve been getting up nearly every night to pee since I found out I was pregnant. I’m surprised I’ve been able to sleep at all, what with worrying about the baby not moving. I must have been very tired from my sleepless wedding night.

I reach out my hand for Alex, but he’s not there. I’m reminded of the very first morning I woke up – alone – in this strange house. I hear voices from downstairs and wonder if he’s having breakfast with my family. I get up and put my dressing gown on.

As I am closing the bedroom door behind me, Julie comes out of her room.

‘Good morning,’ she says. ‘Did you sleep well?’

‘Yes, I did.’ I’m about to ask her the same question, but I hear myself saying, ‘Julie, I haven’t felt the baby kick for a while now. Is that normal?’

‘When was the last time you felt it move?’ she asks.

I have to think about that. I remember the baby was very active while I lay awake all night in the hotel. Was that the last time? No, it wasn’t. My tummy rumbles and it comes to me. It was just before breakfast at the hotel.

‘Yesterday morning. It was a very gentle kick, though.’

‘Well, that’s only twenty-four hours ago,’ my sister says. ‘The baby could be sleeping or it might have moved into a position that means you can’t feel it dancing about so much.’

‘OK,’ I say, but I don’t sound convinced.

‘Don’t worry.’ Julie takes my arm and guides me towards the staircase. ‘If you still haven’t felt it move this afternoon, go to the hospital. They’ll set your mind at rest.’ I’m not sure if it’s my big sister or the nurse talking. Either way, Julie’s words don’t put me at ease.

There’s no sign of Alex downstairs, either. According to my dad, who got up early to walk Jet, he’d said he had an errand to run.

Alex is gone a long time. I try to call him after breakfast, feeling annoyed, but his phone goes straight to voicemail. Where can he be? He arranged for cover in the shop today and he hasn’t scheduled any activities. He wasn’t planning to go training this morning. Where on earth is he? Panic eventually overrides my anger.

When Alex does arrive home, my sister and her family, my dad and Hannah have loaded everything into the two cars they drove up here in and they’re ready to leave for Somerset. I watch Alex saunter in through the front door. Jet wags his tail and I find myself willing him to growl and bark.

‘Where have you been?’ It comes out as a hiss. I can feel my sister’s eyes on me. Alex either ignores my tone or doesn’t pick it up.

‘I went back to the hotel. They left a message on my mobile to say you’d forgotten this.’ To my astonishment, he holds up my mum’s necklace. ‘I thought you’d want to give it back to Julie before she left.’

I’m aware my mouth is wide open, but I can’t seem to close it. I stare in total disbelief at the necklace. The chain is unbroken.

‘Thank you,’ I manage.

Alex hands the necklace to Julie, who deftly puts it around her neck and fastens the clasp.

Moments later, as I wave goodbye to my family, I feel confused. I’m grateful to Alex for having the necklace repaired, and at least now I know what he was doing this morning. But he’s the one who broke it in the first place. And I’m cross with him for implying that I’d carelessly left it in our hotel room. I turn to face Alex, but he isn’t there. He has gone back inside.

I stand outside, alone, watching Oscar close the wooden gate at the bottom of the drive before getting back into the car. Seconds later, both cars round a bend out of my sight. I hope I’ll see everyone again soon, although we didn’t get round to making any plans as Alex wasn’t there this morning.

I find Alex upstairs, kneeling in front of the chest of drawers and wildly turfing out my bras and knickers. I stand in the doorway, rooted to the spot and speechless. He pulls out one of the drawers containing his clothes and tips the socks out on the floor.

Is he having another meltdown?

‘Alex.’ My heart is beating a tattoo against my ribs. ‘Alex.’ My voice sounds weak, even to my ears, and I realise I’m frightened of my husband’s erratic behaviour.

He looks up. ‘It must be here somewhere,’ he says. He doesn’t sound angry, which I take to be a good sign.

‘I’m so sorry I lost it, Alex,’ I say. ‘It may turn up, but we’ve … I’ve already checked in there.’

‘Sit down,’ Alex says gently.

I do what I’m told and perch on the corner of the bed. Alex tidies everything back into the drawers.

‘I can help you if you like?’

‘No, no, it’s all right. Why should you clear up the mess I’ve made?’ He glances at me over his shoulder. ‘Just hang on a sec till I’ve finished. I’ve got something for you.’

I study Alex as he puts the pairs of socks away, lining them up in a row. When he has finished, he turns to me, still on his knees, and extracts a box from his back pocket.

‘I got you this …’ he says, shuffling towards me on his knees. He looks comical, and I’m relieved that he’s not mad at me again. I have a sudden urge to giggle, but although I can feel myself grinning too widely, I succeed in keeping the laughter down.

Alex opens a small square box. Inside there’s a necklace. The third necklace in three days. He takes it out and hands it to me.

‘… To make up for my inexcusable behaviour,’ he continues. ‘I had it engraved.’

I look at the wording on the necklace. ‘“I’m always yours”,’ I read aloud. It reminds me of the sort of message you get on those sweets. Love Hearts. I find it a little childish and then I scold myself for thinking that. Alex is making an effort after all.

‘Look on the back,’ he says. ‘There’s a different inscription.’

I turn the medallion over and read the words on the other side, silently this time. The room feels chilly all of a sudden.

Alex gets to his feet and puts the chain around my neck.

‘There,’ he says, fastening it. He kisses me on the lips and smiles shyly and I have a fleeting image of him as the diffident pupil I secretly fancied at school.

I’m disturbed by the words on the back of the pendant. It’s supposed to be romantic. But I find those words a bit creepy.

You’re mine forever.

‘Promise me you’ll never leave me,’ he says.

‘Why would I leave you?’

‘Just promise me you won’t. I don’t know what I’d do without you.’

‘I promise.’

‘We belong together.’

As he takes me into his arms, I feel goose bumps all the way down my own arms. He pulls me to my feet and he holds me as tightly as my bump will allow.

Just as I’m about to protest that he’s squashing the baby, Chloe or Liam starts to kick me so hard that Alex feels it, too.