Christmas in Bluebell Cove (9 page)

As she looked down at the beginning of a thickening waistline the evidence was there that another commitment, a joint one, was on its way, and she was going to have to tell him about it before someone else picked up on it first.

She began to retrace her steps with sudden urgency, hoping he hadn't already left to spend the evening with Jenna and Lucas. To her surprise, as she began to walk the short distance back to the village she saw him coming towards her, and she took a deep breath. Why not let this be the moment of truth? she thought.

Ethan would understand why she hadn't wanted to listen to Jenna's joyful mother-to-be talk when he knew.

‘Why aren't you with Jenna and Lucas?' she asked uncomfortably.

‘I was on my way and saw you in the distance.'

‘Oh. I see.' Feeling as if her legs would give way beneath her, she sank down onto one of the wooden benches that were dotted along the cliff path and pointed to the space beside her but he didn't take the hint.

‘We need to talk,' she told him as he stood looking down at her. ‘Have you got a moment to spare?''

He almost groaned out loud at the question. Was it a reminder that she still felt herself to be low on his list of priorities?

‘Yes, of course I have,' he said abruptly. ‘What is it you have to say?'

‘I'm pregnant, Ethan.'

‘Wow!' he breathed collapsing into the vacant place beside her.

‘Yes, and I'm sure you will have no difficulty in recalling how and when it came about.'

‘None whatsoever,' he said huskily. His stunned acceptance of what she'd just told him had made his throat go dry. On a tide of rising joy he said what she'd been expecting him to say. ‘And you've waited until you are almost four months pregnant before telling me? Yet I shouldn't have needed telling. Your listlessness and pallor during the first months and then a sudden blooming should have made me realise.

‘I presume that you kept it from me because I'd misled you about the reason for me being in Paris that weekend. Because you still think I was only there for the sex.'

‘You presume wrongly,' she protested. ‘I didn't tell you because I was devastated at the thought of us bringing another child into a marriage that would soon be over. Obviously you would find out sooner or later, but I kept putting the moment off because I wasn't sure how you would react when you knew.

‘I realised it wouldn't be long before you took a long hard look at me and tuned in to what was happening. No one else knows I'm pregnant. Even the children don't
know. It would have been unforgivable to tell them before I'd told you.'

‘I find it incredible that you had doubts about my reaction when I found out,' he said with his expression softening, ‘and to set your mind at rest, here you have it.'

As she observed him warily he took her in his arms. ‘I'm delighted,' he murmured with his lips against the soft chestnut hair, ‘and I'm going to cancel the divorce proceedings first thing tomorrow.'

She shook her head. ‘No. Don't do it for that reason, Ethan. It would have to be because we are both of the same mind about the future that we call it off, and we're not, are we?
I don't want this child to become a bargaining source between us. Do you understand?
'

‘Only too well,' he replied flatly, ‘but don't make any plans about taking the baby to live in Paris permanently, Francine. Two of us were involved in creating this new life, and two of us are going to be involved equally in its future, divorce or not.'

He was getting to his feet and looking down at her, sitting unmoving and white faced, said, ‘I'll walk you home, it will be dark soon.' And without speaking she rose obediently and fell into step beside him.

No words passed between them as they walked the short distance to Thimble Cottage but their thought processes were working overtime and when they arrived he said, ‘You weren't wrong when you said we have to talk and now is as good a time as any. Not here, though. We don't want Kirstie and Ben to find out they're going to have a new brother or sister from something they overhear in conversation. I'll phone Lucas to say I can't
make it and if you come across in five minutes, we'll have the house to ourselves.'

‘What have you done about antenatal care?' was his first question when they'd settled themselves on opposite sides of the sitting room.

‘Hunter's Hill has me booked in for the birth and I've been attending the clinic there, which fortunately hasn't coincided with my working hours at the practice.'

‘And is everything proceeding to plan?' he asked, feeling like a total outsider with regard to a momentous happening in his life

‘Er, yes, so far, though there is one important matter we need to make a decision on, but not tonight Ethan, I'm tired.'

He didn't pursue that in the light of what she'd just said. Instead he referred to what they'd discussed earlier by asking, ‘And you say the children don't yet know they're going to have a little brother or sister?'

‘That is so,' she informed him, feeling that his questions were being fired at her like bullets from a gun. ‘I want us to tell them together.' She managed a smile. ‘At twelve coming on thirteen I expect Ben to be rather embarrassed, and at eleven Kirstie to want to be a second little mother to the baby, but we shall see, shall we not?'

‘I don't know. Shall we?' he said flatly. ‘It will depend on which of us is living where, I would think.' He glanced across to where the lights were on in the children's bedrooms. ‘How about we tell them tomorrow? If we tell them tonight they'll be talking about it for hours, but it must be no later than that. I don't want them to find out from an outside source.'

‘I know,' she agreed abjectly. ‘I never seem to get anything right that concerns us these days.'

He couldn't let her think that about the child she was carrying, he thought achingly, and patting her cheek gently said, ‘You can't describe giving me another child to love as getting it wrong, Francine. Go back and rest now and tomorrow we'll discuss our responsibilities to our surprise baby in more depth.'

She nodded and as exhaustion washed over her after the trauma of the last couple of hours she got to her feet, wished him goodnight and departed from the house she'd called home until the fates had presented her with an alternative residence—

 

They told Kirstie and Ben about the baby the following evening at the end of the meal and their daughter's eyes were round pools of delight as she cried, ‘Really? Do you hear that, Ben? Mum is going to have a baby!'

He wasn't sharing her enthusiasm and asked, ‘Are we going to have those nappy things all over the place and be woken up at night by its crying?'

As his parents exchanged amused glances Ethan told him laughingly, ‘I'm afraid so. It will be just the same as when you and Kirstie were babies, except that you always cried the loudest.'

When they'd gone to meet their friends with instructions to be back before darkness fell Francine said on a more serious note, ‘The implications of what we've told them haven't sunk in yet, but they will, and Kirstie will be the first wanting to know what the arrangements are going to be family-wise. In her own way she worries about what is going on between us.'

‘The solution to that is in
your
hands,' he told her.
‘You know my feelings. I certainly know yours, so it's stalemate. But it isn't fair to have Kirstie being insecure because of what is going on.'

‘I'm renting Thimble Cottage as one means of preventing that, and no longer take the children with me when I go to Paris,' she reminded him.

‘And you think that is enough?'

‘I don't know!' she cried. ‘Yet there is one thing that I do know.'

‘And what might that be?'

‘Your conscience doesn't seem to trouble you as much as mine does me.'

‘So that is what you think, is it?' he said flatly. ‘As every day goes by I'm seeing my dedication to the practice here in this beautiful place as a millstone around my neck instead of it being the satisfying and fulfilling job it used to be. The more we entangle ourselves in the mess we're making of our lives, the more I wonder if we ever loved each other as much as we like to think we did.'

‘How can you say that?' she protested wretchedly. ‘Surely you haven't forgotten that night in Paris?'

He didn't take her up on that. Instead he asked, ‘So am I right in thinking that the discussion you mentioned last night was with regard to whether we go down the amniocentesis road and let them take some of the amniotic fluid to check for abnormalities or not?'

‘Yes,' she replied gravely. ‘In the past I've always sympathised with older pregnant mothers faced with that decision because of there being some slight risk to the baby in having the test. Now I'm one myself and at sixteen weeks into the pregnancy we need to decide.'

‘And what did you usually advise those other women?' he asked with equal seriousness.

‘That they take the test for their sake and that of the baby.'

He nodded. ‘I've always said the same, Francine, so I suggest we make an appointment. I will be there with you, needless to say.'

He almost said that it would be helpful if it was in the afternoon as the morning surgery, which was the busiest, would be over, and if she could cope with the last hour of it on her own he could fit in what home visits had been asked for before noon.

But it was an occasion that put everything else into perspective and as if she'd read his mind Francine said, ‘I'll ask for an afternoon appointment if possible as that would be less disruptive for the surgery.'

‘It would be good if you could,' he said softly, ‘but don't let them delay it because we have other commitments. The sooner the better for the test, Francine.'

They were going to have another child to love, he thought, and though he couldn't have it for her, he was going to be with her every step of the way, no matter what the future held for their marriage.

 

The appointment was made for the following Monday afternoon and the speed and the time of it were most acceptable. They held hands until her name was called to see the obstetrician and his staff, and as they presented themselves Francine knew just how much she needed Ethan there.

The ultrasound scan and withdrawing of the fluid didn't take long and when it was over they were told that the results would be through in a few days.

After she'd rested for a while they were ready to go, and as they were leaving Ethan said soberly, ‘All we have to do now is wait and pray that the baby hasn't been harmed and the scan comes up clear.' Holding tightly to his arm, she managed a wan smile.

Their prayers were answered with a phone call to Thimble Cottage on the Friday afternoon to say that all was well. The baby was unharmed and the fluid had shown none of the danger signs they'd been testing for. As soon as she'd put the phone down Francine went round to the surgery to tell Ethan the good news.

He was on the point of seeing off a patient and when he saw her he observed her anxiously until she smiled, and then he was smiling too, and Millie on Reception was also beaming at the obvious happiness of the head of the practice and his wife.

 

On a Saturday in late September there was always a special event in Bluebell Cove where those who made their living from the land and the sea, or the turf and the surf as it was sometimes called, gathered to display the results of their labours and to compete for the honours bestowed on those whose efforts were judged to be the best.

It was held at Wheatlands Farm, the Enderbys' place, and like the Christmas ball they hosted every year for the people of Bluebell Cove, the show was always well attended.

This year would be no different. On a mellow autumn day they would come to compete for the top prizes in the different categories on display around the room.

George Enderby, the oldest member of the farming family, would judge the entries. Ethan had been
nominated to chair the proceedings and Francine to present the prizes.

To complete the family foursome Kirstie would be helping in the café, which was always a great success, with George Enderby's daughter-in-law in charge, and Ben had been given the job of going round to check that the exhibits were not suffering from the warmth of the early autumn sun.

When Ethan and Francine had been asked to take part many months ago they had each expected that by the time the autumn show came round once more they would have either found a solution to the problem that was tearing them apart or would be divorced.

So far neither of those things had happened and they'd been wishing they weren't committed to being seen together in public on such an occasion, with the necessity of putting on a front for friends and acquaintances.

But as Ethan drove the four of them to Wheatlands Farm on the day the sheer pleasure of being together as a family on such an occasion was wiping away regrets and embarrassment, especially for Francine when out of the blue Kirstie said, ‘Can we give our baby a lovely French name like yours,
Maman
?'

Oh, you blessed child!
Ethan thought as they drove between high hedgerows that had been bedecked with the glittering frost of winter the last time they'd been to the Enderbys'.

Today the hedgerows were warm and colourful with the last flowers of summer, and beside him his wife was smiling at what her daughter had said. His spirits were lifting. How could they not, with such a thoughtful young peacemaker in his family?

Kirstie was only eleven years old but possessed the
wisdom and understanding of someone much older. As she matured she would be just as attractive as her mother, but in a different way as she'd inherited the golden colouring of her maternal grandmother.