An ideal husband, p.12
An Ideal Husband, page 12
‘No,’ he said simply.
‘Is that a joint decision?’
‘Of course it is.’ He was on his feet now, ready to go. ‘I wouldn’t want Caro to go through again what she experienced after Peggy was born,’ he added.
He leaned in to kiss Arabella’s cheek. ‘Tell Giles about the baby and then get on with celebrating your good news. After all, having another baby was what you wanted, wasn’t it?’
Arabella left soon after Ashley and after calling in at the chemist, she crossed over the road to go to the children’s clothes shop to see if there was anything nice for Heidi. There was, and there was also a cute sleep suit for a newborn baby. She bought both items, reminding herself of what Ashley had said, that she must celebrate the fact that she was having another baby, and that it really was just what she wanted. Somehow, she would win Giles round, and everything would be all right again.
She had just reversed out of the space where she’d parked the car when her mobile rang. It was her mother. ‘Hi Mum,’ she said, ‘everything okay?’
‘Yes, we’ve been having a lovely time playing in the garden. Heidi’s had her lunch and is now down for her nap.’
‘Thank you for having her, especially as it was such short notice. I know how busy you are.’
‘Nonsense, I’m never too busy to look after my two grandchildren.’
Make that three, thought Arabella with a smile. ‘I’ll be with you in about twenty-five minutes.’
‘There’s no hurry. But there’s something I just wanted to run by you, you can think about it while you’re driving here.’
Alarmed at what her mother might be about to say, Arabella held her breath. Ever since Mum had announced that she was buying a converted windmill to live in and had then taken them all to see it, Arabella and Ashley had had a collective sense of Uh-oh, what next?
‘How do you feel about a family holiday?’ her mother asked. ‘Any chance you’re free the first week in September?’
‘Wow, this is all a bit sudden, isn’t it?’
‘It’s called spontaneity, something I’m very keen to foster. So what do you think? It could be fun, us all going away together, like the old days, but in a different way, obviously.’
‘Where are you thinking?’
‘I’ll tell you when you’re here.’
Chapter Nineteen
‘I know what she’s doing,’ said Kip, bending down to tie the laces of his deck shoes. ‘She’s trying to recreate the past when we all went on family holidays together.’
Looking at him in the reflection of the mirror where she was brushing her hair, Zoe frowned. ‘What does it matter if that’s what she’s doing?’
‘Because it’s her way of getting back at me, of alienating me further from the family.’
‘I think you’re overreacting. We both know she loves nothing better than to have everyone around her so she can fuss over them. Arranging a holiday just means she can go all out with her Queen Bee compulsion.’
Feeling as though he were being rebuked, but at the same time perversely annoyed at the criticism Zoe had just levelled at Louisa, Kip tugged sharply on one of the shoelaces only for it to snap. ‘Shit!’ he muttered under his breath.
With nothing else for it, he changed his shoes and braced himself for the evening ahead, hoping that an evening with Ashley and Caro was not going to turn into a disagreeable session of attack and defend. He was tired of justifying himself. Or more precisely, he was tired of being constantly on the back foot as though he still had to convince his family that he knew what he was doing. He’d never been surer about a thing when he’d fallen in love with Zoe and walked away from his marriage, but that had been the easy part; everything since had been an uphill struggle. Had he been naïve to imagine it would be otherwise?
And was Zoe’s comment about Louisa having a Queen Bee compulsion justified? He’d never thought of his wife in that way before, but did Zoe have a point? Better to believe that, he thought, than to become paranoid that Louisa was trying to alienate him from their children. Besides, she’d never been nasty or vindictive, it simply wasn’t in her nature. But then who knew how a person would behave when seriously tested? Look how cold and severe she’d been towards him that day in the kitchen at Charity Cottage when he’d discovered she’d changed the locks. That had clearly been a vengeful act on her behalf, a way to prove a point with him.
As for this madcap scheme of hers to live in a windmill, what on earth had possessed her? He’d been genuinely lost for words when she’d told him about it on the telephone. They’d just agreed to accept the offer made on Charity Cottage and curious to know what her plans were, he’d asked if she had found somewhere new to live.
‘I thought that would surprise you,’ she’d said when she’d told him about Melbury Mill.
‘It certainly has,’ he’d said.
The satisfied tone in her voice had stayed with him for several days afterwards.
Zoe offered to drive them to Ashley and Caro’s so he could enjoy a drink at the pub where the quiz was taking place.
They had only been in the car a short time when Kip realised that Zoe wasn’t her usual self. She was quieter than normal, and seemingly preoccupied. Was she anxious about spending the evening with Ashley and Caro?
Or was he to blame? Had he annoyed her with his earlier crankiness after ringing his daughter for what had been yet another stilted attempt at conversation, only to learn that Louisa was in the process of rounding them all up for a family holiday? He’d felt peevishly out of sorts, knowing that traditionally this had always been something that he planned. He was the one, after all, who ran a holiday company!
If Zoe was annoyed by his poor mood, he needed to sort himself out. He mustn’t allow anything so trivial to spoil their happiness. It was what he’d vowed when he’d moved in with her, that no matter the challenges they faced, nothing would harm the strength of their love for each other.
But it wasn’t just that Zoe was quieter than usual that bothered him, there had also been that uncharacteristically sharp Queen Bee comment she’d made about Louisa. He couldn’t recall another time when Zoe had been remotely rude about his wife.
He decided rather than avoid the issue, he should tackle it. ‘Everything all right, Zoe?’ he enquired.
She flicked him a sidelong glance. ‘Yes,’ she said, ‘why do you ask?’
‘No special reason, other than you seem as though you have something on your mind. Are you worried about being with Caro and Ashley this evening? I wouldn’t blame you if you were.’
‘I’m fine,’ she said lightly. ‘Caro’s okay, more than okay; I like her. She doesn’t judge me. Or us for that matter.’
‘And Ashley, how do you feel about him?’
Her gaze flicked briefly again to meet his. ‘I’m getting there, but it’s hard knowing that he’d sooner I didn’t exist and that you were still with your wife.’
‘He just needs time.’
‘It’s been seven months, Kip, how much time does he need?’
It was a good question and one he couldn’t answer and as Zoe kept her eyes on the road ahead and fell quiet again, he had the nagging feeling that whatever was troubling her had nothing to do with this evening. It was something else. But he let it go, concerned that if he dug too deep, he might hear something he didn’t want to hear, like she was having second thoughts about their being together.
The one person who was most definitely her customary self was his granddaughter, Peggy. She had been allowed to stay up to say hello before being left with the babysitter and the grown-ups going off for their ‘fun evening’, as Ashley kept referring to their night out at the village pub.
But before they could go, Peggy was eager to show off her vast collection of plushies to Zoe. Children were always so much better at accepting change than adults, and Kip was grateful for the little girl’s readiness to accommodate Zoe as his other half. An expression he wouldn’t dream of using in front of Zoe. He knew better than that. She was a person in her own right, not an appendage to him, as she herself would be quick to point out. He and Louisa had always seen themselves as two halves that made a whole. Though it would be true to say that he had seen himself as the driving force, the one who made the big decisions. That wasn’t how it was in his relationship with Zoe. If anything, he deferred to her because he wanted to be sure that she had no doubts about the rightness of their relationship.
With Louisa, he had enjoyed the luxury of never doubting her love for him. He knew that sounded arrogant, but it had only struck him recently that this was the case because everything with Zoe was so different. In contrast he had less certainty with Zoe and felt he had to earn her love. He understood now that longevity and familiarity had made him complacent with Louisa, but with Zoe he must never be anything but constantly on his toes. On the one hand it excited him, but it also made him vulnerable and that was a phenomenon that was new to him.
It had been a stupid mistake on his part when they’d been in Aldeburgh and he’d asked what she thought of them marrying; he’d been in too much of a hurry to move things along. That had been a typical trait of the old Kip, wanting to control a situation and bend it to his will. The new Kip had to learn to take a step back and allow Zoe to dictate the pace. But he couldn’t ignore how disappointed he’d felt at her reply. He wasn’t used to being thwarted.
Quiz night at the Cap and Feather was a popular event and whoever had set the questions had been determined to test them to the full. Kip held his own when it came to geography and world affairs, but anything to do with popular culture in the last twenty years he left to the others. The picture round of so-called celebrities was their undoing; they’d only managed to get one right out of ten.
‘That’s the worst we’ve ever done,’ declared Caro when the points had been totted up and they found they’d come equal fifth with the group around the table nearest them.
‘Better not invite us again,’ Kip joked, ‘we’ve clearly bought you bad luck.’
‘Nonsense,’ said Caro. ‘It’s been fun, hasn’t it, Ashley?’
‘Yes,’ he said, but not really sounding like he meant it as he drank from his beer glass.
‘It was kind of you to invite us,’ said Zoe.
‘Yes,’ agreed Kip, ‘it was a kind thought and one we both appreciate. By the way, I spoke to Arabella earlier and she told me the latest news.’
‘What news?’ queried Ashley, his expression suddenly alert.
‘That your mum is planning a holiday with you all.’
‘Oh, that,’ said Ashley.
‘Going somewhere nice?’
‘They’d hardly be going somewhere horrible,’ said Zoe with a smile.
Kip laughed. ‘Of course not. So where are you off to?’
‘Nothing’s planned as yet,’ said Ashley. ‘We’re still at the stage of deciding on a week when we’re all free.’
‘That was one of the reasons we gave up on family holidays,’ said Kip. ‘It became impossible for everyone to agree on a mutual date to go away together.’
‘Given the circumstances, I think we’ll make the extra effort for Mum and nail down a date without too much of a problem.’
Ouch, thought Kip, but then he probably deserved that low blow from Ashley. He should have left well alone, but his pride and curiosity had got the better of him. It was irrational, but he regretted that he hadn’t taken the initiative himself and proposed a family holiday. Although after the spectacular failure of Aldeburgh, who in their right mind would want to risk a repeat of that? He took another long and determined swallow of his drink. Was this how it was always going to be, him on the outside looking in, and his children punishing him for what they saw as his betrayal?
‘You know what would be nice,’ he said, forcing himself to sound upbeat, ‘is if you’d come for dinner with us one evening.’ Too late he realised that it wasn’t his place to extend the invitation; it was Zoe’s, since it was her house where they lived. He shot her an anxious glance and to his relief she echoed his suggestion.
‘Yes,’ she said, ‘we’d love to have you over. Kip can do the honours and cook.’
At that Ashley let out a laugh. ‘You, Dad?’
‘Hey, don’t mock, I’m on a steep learning curve, Zoe’s giving me a complete overhaul, turning me into a thoroughly modern domestic man.’
‘Only because I hate cooking and one of us has to do it and I don’t see why it should be me.’
‘Bravo to the pair of you,’ said Caro. ‘I shall expect great things from you, Kip.’
‘No promises on the quality of what I cook, but I’ll do my best not to let the side down.’
‘Well, that went better than I thought it would,’ he remarked when Zoe was driving them home. ‘I really believe we’re getting there now.’
‘Maybe,’ she murmured.
Once again Kip was struck by what appeared to be a change in Zoe’s manner. In front of Caro and Ashley she had seemed more like her usual self, but now they were alone once more, she seemed preoccupied again.
‘I hate to be a bore and repeat something I said earlier, but is everything all right, Zoe?’ he asked.
In the semi-darkness of the car, he saw her purse her lips. ‘I’ll tell you when we’re home,’ she said.
‘Can’t you tell me now?’
‘No,’ she said with a firmness that brooked no argument.
If he’d been concerned before, now he was consumed with the very worst fear that Zoe was going to finish with him. His instinct was to push until Zoe put him out of his misery. Just get it over with, he wanted to say. But he didn’t and it took all of his willpower to remain quiet until she pulled up outside her cottage.
As soon as they were through the front door, she said, ‘I think you’re going to need a stiff drink for what I’m about to tell you.’ Without waiting for a response, she led the way to the small kitchen, switching on lights as they went. She opened the cupboard where she kept a selection of spirits and, taking out a bottle of whisky, she poured a generous amount into a tumbler and handed it to him.
‘Take a sip,’ she instructed.
‘I’d sooner wait until you’ve—’
‘No,’ she interrupted, ‘take a sip. A large one. You’re going to need it.’
‘Aren’t you having one?’
She shook her head. ‘Go on, drink it.’
Stubbornly, he refused. ‘If you’re about to tell me it’s over between us, a glass of whisky is hardly going to soften the blow.’
‘That’s not what I’m going to say,’ she said. ‘The thing is, I’m pregnant.’
He stared at her, shocked. This had been the furthest thing from his mind. He tried to say what he imagined she would want him to say, but the power of speech was failing him. What the hell could he say? The longer he grappled for the right words, the more she would know the truth of his feelings, that a baby was the last thing he wanted at the age he was. Finally, he said, ‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes. I can see from the look on your face that you’re as shocked as I was when I did the test.’
Putting the untouched glass of whisky on the countertop behind him, he said, ‘How do you feel about a baby?’
She swallowed. ‘I don’t know. How do you feel?’
Careful, he warned himself, all too aware of the lethal minefield with which he was suddenly confronted. Surely, she had to know how he felt, that he was appalled at the prospect of going through all that again – the sleepless nights, the enormous responsibility, the rigour of a life thoroughly upended by a small human being that had the power to force the world to revolve around it. Yes, he was being utterly selfish, but who wouldn’t be in his shoes? Being a grandfather was fine, he could lavish love and attention on Heidi and Peggy and then walk away. But fatherhood all over again, no, it was unthinkable.
‘Judging from that silence, I assume the thought of a baby horrifies you.’
‘No,’ he lied. ‘It’s … it’s just that we’re still …’
‘In the early stages of our relationship,’ she finished for him. ‘I get it. I really do.’
‘How long have you known?’
‘I did the test three days ago.’
‘Why didn’t you say anything before now?’
‘Does it make any difference?’
‘No. Yes! Of course it does, we’re in this together.’
‘No,’ she said. ‘We are not in this together. This is my decision.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I haven’t made up my mind what I’m going to do.’
‘Whether to keep it or not? Is that what you mean?’
‘Yes,’ she said simply. ‘I won’t be persuaded either way. I need to know that you understand that and that you’ll respect whatever my decision is.’
Now he did reach for the glass and downed the whisky in one.
Chapter Twenty
When Angus pulled onto the drive of Charity Cottage that warm Friday evening in the middle of August, there was a Model S Tesla parked alongside his mother’s car. He wondered if it belonged to the people who were buying the house. Mum had mentioned on the phone last night that they might be calling in today to take some measurements. Apparently, they were cash buyers and were pushing to exchange contracts as soon as possible, and as luck would have it, the owner of Melbury Mill had already moved out and so there was no long chain involved. From what Mum said, the conveyancing solicitors were confident they’d have things buttoned up by the end of September, if not sooner. Which had stymied Mum’s plans for them all to go on holiday together. Fortunately, they hadn’t got as far as booking anything, so no money had been lost.
‘They’re a lovely couple,’ Mum had said of the couple buying Charity Cottage, ‘and I’m so glad they’re the ones who will be living here; they have grandchildren who will love exploring the garden. I’d have hated it if it had been people I didn’t like buying our house and who I thought wouldn’t look after it.’
