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Authors: Jane Green

Second Chance (21 page)

BOOK: Second Chance
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You’re married, my darling. Not dead!

‘Oh this? Wow. Thanks.’ Holly blushes slightly as
she stands up to step into Will’s hug, to receive his air kisses on either cheek, except they are not air kisses, his lips land softly on each cheek, even as hers skim the air on either side of his.
Stop it!
she tells herself as her heart flutters ever so quickly, and she sits down hurriedly, spending rather more seconds than are altogether necessary smoothing the napkin on her lap in a bid to calm down.

‘Now you look like the Holly I remember.’ Will grins, and as he does, she thinks with a jolt how much like Tom he looks.

‘This is a bit weird, isn’t it?’ Holly finds herself saying.

‘What? You and I having lunch? Frankly I think it’s about time we took our email correspondence to a proper friendship, and you can’t be friends if you never see one another. As the dating service says, it’s only lunch.’

‘No, not that. You just looked exactly like Tom when you smiled.’ Holly picks up the napkin and holds it to her eyes. ‘I’m so sorry, Will,’ she says, attempting a smile. ‘So stupid that I’m the one sitting here with tears in my eyes when he’s your brother. I feel I don’t have a right to this display of emotion in front of you.’

Will leans over and places a hand on Holly’s, squeezing it ever so gently. ‘Holly, you loved him too. Just for the record, you do have a right to display any emotion you want, and I know, God knows I know, how it reaches up and grabs you at the most unexpected times.’

‘I’m sorry,’ Holly says as a tear slides its way down her nose.

‘It’s okay,’ Will says, and he keeps holding her hand, not saying anything, and after a few seconds it is okay, and Holly smiles through her sniffs.

‘I’m pathetic,’ she says. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘The only thing that’s pathetic is that you keep apologizing. Will you stop? Please?’

‘Okay.’ She smiles. ‘Sor… oh fuck off.’

‘That’s better!’ Will grins. ‘When was the last time you told a friend to fuck off?’

‘Probably yesterday,’ Holly says. ‘I think I may have told Saffron to fuck off over the phone.’

‘That’s nice,’ Will says in mock horror. ‘Can’t imagine why she’s friends with you.’

‘Because I’m kind and funny and loyal.’

‘And pretty damn sexy with that hair, if I may say so.’

‘I…’ Holly flushes bright red and Will starts to laugh.

‘Are you going to turn scarlet every time I compliment you? Because if you are that’s fantastic. I can start pouring them on. Those jeans and boots make your arse…’

‘Will!’ Holly stops him, even as she’s laughing.

‘What? Can’t I say arse?’

‘No you bloody can’t. You don’t know me nearly well enough to make comments about my… well. You know.’

Will leans back in his chair and crosses his arms, studying Holly with a smile. ‘Well, well, well,’ he says. ‘Holly Mac, a prude. Who knew?’

‘I am not a prude,’ she says indignantly.

‘Tell me you have a great arse, then.’

‘No! I absolutely do not have to tell you I have a great arse to prove to you that I’m not a prude.’

‘Go on. I won’t believe you unless you tell me.’

‘Fine. I have a great arse. Happy now?’

‘Very, thank you. And yes, I agree. So. Shall we get menus?’ The waiter appears immediately, and Holly hides her embarrassment – her secret thrill – behind choosing what to have for lunch.

‘You’re not used to being complimented, are you?’ Will muses, gazing at Holly over the rim of his cappuccino at the end of the meal, each of them reluctant to end what has been a lunch filled with laughter and teasing.

‘No,’ Holly says cautiously. ‘Although I don’t think that’s me, particularly. I can’t imagine being in a situation where I would be complimented these days. My life as a mother and freelance illustrator is very dull. You see the same people, and run around in the same clothes, so why would anyone compliment you on your looks? Surely it’s the same for you, no? When was the last time you were complimented?’

‘Well, I did get a compliment at Tom’s memorial service. Not particularly appropriate, but there was a girl who came up to me and told me she and her friends had always fancied me when we were young. Remember when I worked at the chemist’s for that summer? Apparently they’d watch me play football on the weekends, then make excuses to come into the chemist’s and buy stuff. They even had a name for me. The lustyleg man.’

Holly bursts out laughing. ‘Is that because of your thick footballer legs?’

‘Nothing wrong with having thick footballer legs.’

‘Didn’t say there was. But that’s funny. The lusty-leg man. I like it.’

‘Yes, well. I didn’t make it up. Holly?’ Will’s face turns serious for a second. ‘Can I ask you something?’

‘Yes, but I’m not altogether sure I’ll answer.’

‘In one of your emails you said something about a good night meant being in bed by nine and a great night meant being in bed by eight. You didn’t really mean that, did you?’

Holly smiles and leans forward. ‘Will, my darling, one day hopefully you will have small children, and then you will understand exactly what I mean, and why, sadly, it is the truth.’

‘But I have tons of friends with kids, and I don’t know anyone besides you who actually goes to bed that early.’

Holly shrugs. ‘I just get tired.’

‘Are you sure you’re not just checking out of life?’

‘What?’ Holly sits up straight, shocked.

‘I’m sorry, Holly. I don’t meant to say anything to offend you. It’s just that you’re so vibrant, you always were, but today, sitting here now, is the first time I’ve seen the old Holly. When I saw you after the memorial service I couldn’t believe how, well, how old you seemed. Obviously it wasn’t ideal circumstances, but even the way you were dressed was so staid and proper. Like a shadow of who you used to be, who I always dreamt you’d become. And I’m not saying this to upset
you, but I think it’s heartbreaking that you’re in bed every night by eight or nine. That’s not living. That’s running away from life. That sounds to me like you’re burying your head under the covers, literally, and checking out of your life.’

Holly doesn’t say anything for a while. Can’t say anything for a while. When she looks up and meets Will’s eyes, she just shrugs sadly.

‘Maybe you’re right. A little,’ she says. ‘Maybe going to bed keeps me from examining my life more closely, and maybe things would be different if Marcus were around more. You have to understand that he works so incredibly hard; it’s not like he’s around and I’m cancelling stuff to go to bed. There is nothing else for me to do. Admittedly I could stay up and watch TV until he got home, but I’d rather climb into bed with a good book.’

‘But that’s ridiculous that there’s nothing else for you to do. You could be out with friends, having fun. You could be going to the movies, having a drink. Something. Anything. Just engaging in life.’ He is horrified and making no effort to hide it.

‘Okay,’ Will says. ‘I’m throwing down the gauntlet. I’m going out on Friday night with some friends to see a band. It’s very casual, just live music at a bar. If Marcus isn’t around, I want you to come. Just do it. Say yes. Get a babysitter and come.’

‘I can’t.’ Holly shakes her head, but even as she shakes her head she knows she can. She knows she will.

‘Why not? I bet Marcus will be working and, think, you have a choice of going to bed at eight o’clock
or having a fun night with interesting people, doing something different, something that might make you grow as a person.’ Will sighs. ‘I just hate this concept, this belief that so many married people seem to buy into that if you’re married you have to behave a certain way; your world has to revolve around the children; it has to shrink and shrink until there’s almost nothing left of who you used to be before you had kids. I have tons of married friends,’ Will continues. ‘And what they all have in common is that they still retain a really strong sense of who they are. They still go out drinking, still have fun, still retain enough of their identity that they never feel as if a part of them died when they walked down the aisle.’

‘God!’ Holly sucks in a sharp intake of breath. ‘That is exactly how I felt when I walked down the aisle. I’ve never even realized it before now.’

‘See? And here’s your chance to change. Go on. Say you’ll come. I’d love you to meet my friends and I think you’ll enjoy them. Will you?’

‘Okay.’ Holly leans back and relaxes. ‘I’ll come,’ and as the thought
What am I doing?
enters her head, she shouts it back down.

I’m not going to think about this, she tells herself. I’m just going to be in the moment and see what happens.

In a quiet restaurant in Highgate Village, Paul and Anna sit in a corner, nursing their wine, trying to find the words.

‘I’m so sorry, Anna,’ Paul says again as he puts his
arm around her and pulls her close for a hug. ‘I’m just so sorry.’

‘We can try again, no?’ Anna looks up at Paul hopefully, but she already knows the answer.

‘I just don’t see how we can,’ Paul says. ‘I know we both want a baby more than anything, but I just think that physically and emotionally this is going to destroy us. I don’t know how many times we can continue to go through it. And the financial burden is just so big. We need to start building our savings again, putting aside money for a rainy day, not to mention the barn that we’re not even using because we haven’t put a penny into it. I think…’ He pauses. ‘I don’t know if you’re ready to find out about this yet, but I think that now might be the time for us to start investigating adoption.’

Anna sighs as a tear drips onto the table. ‘I did not honestly believe this would happen,’ she whispers. ‘I just kept thinking that the next time it would happen, the next time I would get pregnant. I still cannot believe it. I know we’ve always said we would look at adoption, but it’s so final. Adoption means I have failed. We have failed. Adoption means we’ve admitted that this is it. No more Clomid, no more Synarel, no more injections. And no more hope. I just do not know how I can bear it, how I can accept it.’

‘I know,’ Paul says. ‘I feel the same way. And perhaps at some point in the future we can revisit IVF, but even if you’re not ready to actually start whatever the adoption process is, I feel like we’ve reached a time when we have to explore it, have to find out what it
involves. Maybe that will help us, help us see things more clearly.’

‘Why me?’ Anna leans her head into Paul’s shoulder as he cradles her gently. ‘Why us?’

He loves her vulnerability, he thinks, as he strokes her back gently and kisses the top of her head, shushing her like a baby, rocking her to make it okay. He loves that she can run meetings with cut-throat skill, has held her own against the toughest names in the business, and has created herself and her business out of nothing. And he loves most that it is not all of who she is.

The Anna he loves has so many sides. She can be tough, unyielding, fierce, soft, gentle and vulnerable all in the same breath. He loves that she is never frightened to show him who she is, like tonight.

He continues to rock her until she calms down. As for her questions – Why me? Why us?–there is only one answer he can think of.

Why not?

‘Shall we go away this weekend?’ Paul says as they gather their coats and thread their way through the tightly packed tables.

‘White Barn Fields?’ Anna smiles grimly. ‘Go and see all the work we have not been able to afford to do?’

‘We could always do it ourselves.’ Paul shrugs. ‘On some level I’m sure it would be a hell of a lot of fun.’

‘Do you think they have the
Idiot’s Guide to Renovating Houses
?’ Anna smiles, the first genuine smile of the evening.

‘If not, I could always write it and make a fortune.’

‘Now that is the best idea of the night.’ Anna smiles up at him. ‘I do love you, you know.’

‘Even though I can’t afford to keep you in IVF?’ Paul is joking, but Anna sees the doubt in his eyes.

‘Yes, even though you can not afford to keep me in IVF. At least they will never say I married you for your money.’

‘No, it was my good looks and charm.’

‘Actually I think you hypnotized me sometime during that interview. The good news is I am still waiting to wake up.’

‘I love you too,’ Paul says, kissing her on the forehead as he closes his arms around her for a hug, both of them swaying gently on the pavement outside the restaurant, their breath blowing soft clouds in the air. ‘Really, I feel so lucky to have you, to have us.’

‘So are we going to White Barn Fields this weekend with our toolbox in the back of the car?’

‘Let’s do it,’ Paul nods as they start walking towards the car, ‘let’s go down there and get busy. And can I start looking into what’s involved in adoption?’

‘I cannot promise anything,’ Anna says, ‘but yes. I am fine with you starting to look into it.’

‘So what do you think?’ Will leans over and whispers in Holly’s ear so she can hear him, and Holly grins at him.

‘I think your friends are great. The music’s great. I’m having a great time.’

‘So it’s all great?’ Will laughs.

‘It’s all great,’ Holly says, as Will orders another round of beers.

They are sitting in the Jazz Café in Camden. To Holly’s surprise, it is not crowded with people a decade younger than herself, as she had feared. Nor is it ghastly loud music that gives her a headache.

Nor is it an awful evening. She wasn’t sure why she’d said yes. She knew that she would hate it, but she was proving a point. Proving to herself that there was a reason she went to bed at eight and that there was nothing to be gained from pretending to be in her twenties and going to bars to listen to live music and drink with people she didn’t know.

But Will’s friends have been lovely. An electrician who works with Will from time to time, a chiropractor and her journalist husband, and an Australian couple who, like Will, work to fund their travelling. The chiro-practor couple – Jan and Charlie – have four children, and Holly spent the early part of the evening, before the band came on, bonding over shared child-related stories, catching eyes with Will, on the other side of their crowd, chatting to the Australians.

BOOK: Second Chance
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