A Good Catch Page 18

  ‘We mustn’t have any more babies.’ He could feel the tension in her.

  ‘I know, darling. That’s what the doctors say now, but medical advances are happening every day. We’re only young. It’s terrible for us both but we can still have sex and be careful.’

  ‘It’s not that.’

  ‘What is it then?’

  ‘I just don’t feel like it.’

  ‘Well, you will. When I’ve warmed you up.’ He opened the front of her dressing gown and lifted her small breast out. He bent to lick her nipple.

  ‘Don’t. Please don’t.’ He stopped and she pulled her robe closed.

  ‘What’s the matter? We need to talk about this properly. I’m in bits. Trying to be strong and all that, but it’s breaking my heart. I want to fill you and the house up with children but, like my mum says, we have got Freddie and we can give him the very best love a boy could ever have.’

  Greer looked at Jesse intently and said, ‘It’s not that. I’m glad Freddie will be our only one. I hated being pregnant and I hate what it’s done to my body. I’m fat. I have stretch marks. My breasts aren’t the same. I don’t think I ever want to have sex again.’

  Jesse had been told by his mum that women needed a bit of love and patience after they’d had a baby, so he wasn’t surprised or worried by this little speech.

  ‘You look bloody gorgeous to me. I fancy you like mad. A few days at home and we’ll get back to normal. Don’t worry.’

  Greer looked so frail and vulnerable, with her baggy Snoopy gown hanging off her tiny frame, that Jesse was overcome with compassion and passion. ‘You need to come home. I need to have you home. You and Freddie. You’re coming home tomorrow. I’ll pick you up after work. Tell your mother.’

  *

  The next day Jesse was down on the harbour checking the gear on the boat. Greer’s father, Bryn, was walking, with some purpose, towards him.

  ‘All right, Jesse,’ he called.

  Jesse saw him and knew Bryn was on a mission from Elizabeth.

  ‘Can I have a word?’ Bryn asked.

  ‘Sure. You can have a bucketful if you want, but I’ll not be dissuaded from having my wife and son home tonight.’

  Bryn stepped onto The Lobster Pot and held his hands up in surrender. ‘Am I that transparent?’

  ‘You and Elizabeth have been wonderful, looking after Greer and Freddie. But it’s six weeks now and time they came home,’ said Jesse firmly.

  ‘Well, of course you want your family home. Who wouldn’t?’ Bryn patted Jesse’s shoulder. ‘But it’s a little too soon.’

  ‘Who says?’

  ‘We all do,’ said Bryn smoothly. ‘Maybe I should give you some time off. Paid leave. That way you could spend more time at our place.’

  Jesse stuck his hands in the pockets of his overall and stood his ground. ‘You’ve given me enough. Pencil Cottage, a say in the new business—’

  ‘Yes, and you’ve given me a terrific grandson to carry the Clovelly name on in the business.’

  ‘He’s not a Clovelly. He’s a Behenna.’ Jesse was using a dangerously quiet voice.

  ‘You know what I mean, son.’ Bryn was smiling at Jesse as if he was the village idiot who needed appeasing. ‘Greer is my first consideration. She needs looking after.’

  Jesse had had enough. ‘Bryn, with due respect, you’ve given Greer everything she’s ever wanted. You even made sure you gave her me.’

  Bryn sneered. ‘Yes, and God knows why. You were happy to take the money that she came with, weren’t you? The house, the pay rise, the promotion?’

  Jesse felt anger burning in his gut. ‘Greer is my wife. Freddie is my son, and they’m coming home tonight. I’ll play the perfect son-in-law and I’ll make this company a success, but you can’t stop me bringing my family home. Oh, and by the way, your friendship with Monica at the golf club is common knowledge. Wouldn’t take long for that to reach Elizabeth’s ears.’ This was a long shot. A piece of gossip that had been circulating for as long as Jesse could remember. He hadn’t been sure it was true until this very moment.

  Bryn went scarlet. ‘What the hell are you talking about?’

  ‘Oh, it’s OK for me to tell Elizabeth about this stupid rumour, is it? If you’re innocent, that’s fine.’

  Bryn’s slick eyes were narrowed. ‘You say one word of that filthy lie and I’ll have your balls for shark bait.’

  Jesse laughed. ‘Mum’s the word, then. Make sure Greer and Freddie are all packed when I get there.’

  *

  Jesse helped Greer and Freddie into Pencil Cottage. ‘Welcome home,’ he said, putting the sleeping Freddie and his car seat on the front-room carpet.

  Greer looked around her. ‘It looks so cosy.’

  ‘Mum came round earlier. She’s left flowers on the table for you. Look.’

  A big bunch of Jan’s late dahlias was sitting in a vase with a little envelope propped up next to it with Greer’s name scrawled on it.

  ‘That’s sweet of her.’ Greer hated blowsy dahlias and made a mental note to chuck them out the next day and get some white long-stemmed lilies which would be more in keeping with the house style. Then she sniffed. ‘Can I smell cooking?’

  ‘Oh, yeah,’ grinned Jesse. ‘She’s popped a chicken pie to warm in the oven and she’s brought some of her frozen runner beans over too. Are you hungry?’

  ‘Not very.’

  On cue a hungry Freddie woke up and started squalling. ‘Shall I make up a bottle?’ asked Jesse.

  ‘I’ll do it.’ Greer began rummaging in one of the copious baby bags that Freddie seemed to need.

  ‘Well, I’ll watch how you do it, then I can do the next one,’ Jesse said gently.

  ‘It might be the middle of the night.’

  ‘I want to share it with you. I need to learn. I’m used to being up in the night, remember?’

  Greer unclipped Freddie from his chair and handed him to Jesse. ‘Bloody hell, he pongs,’ he laughed, pulling a face.

  ‘Well,’ said Greer on her way to the kitchen, ‘this will be a night of firsts. I’ll teach you how to change a nappy too.’

  21

  Being back at home felt better than she had expected, and seeing Freddie sleeping in his cot in the tiny nursery gave her deep satisfaction. Her days were full of washing and sterilising, feeding and winding, but she coped well. Some days she even managed to grab a shower and make a simple supper for Jesse when he came home.

  If she’d had any worries about resuming their sex life, she needn’t have bothered. Jesse, who insisted on doing the night feeds, was too knackered to ask.

  *

  It was the second week after she’d returned home that Mickey rang and invited her and Jesse round for supper.

  ‘Bring littl’un, too. Loveday and I are dying to see him. Loveday wanted to come round the other day but Jesse said you weren’t up to visitors yet.’

  Greer was surprised. ‘Did he? I’d love to see you. I’ve tried to phone Loveday a couple of times but either Hal was crying or I got no answer.’ Greer had wondered if Loveday was avoiding her.

  Mickey laughed. ‘Yeah she’s never in. If she’s not out with her mum, she’s walking the pram. Say you can come for your tea?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Greer decisively, ‘we’d love to come.’

  *

  Loveday was not happy. ‘What did you do that for? I haven’t got time to make supper and look after Hal. And what’s Mum going to do? I can’t ask her to leave her own house because there’s no space for her round the table.’

  Mickey had already thought of that. ‘I asked her if it was all right and she thought it’s a great idea. She’s going to her sister’s for the night so that we can really let our hair down.’ He slid his hands round Loveday’s hips and pulled her to him. ‘We ’aven’t seen them in ages. We’ll have fun.’

  *

  At Pencil Cottage, Jesse looked cross. ‘I don’t want to go round for tea.’

  ‘Why not? Mickey’s yo
ur best mate,’ Greer sighed. ‘And why did you tell him I wasn’t up to visitors?’

  ‘’Cos you’re not.’

  ‘Yes I am. I think it’s Loveday who’s not coping. I want to see her but she’s always making excuses. I feel all cooped up in here.’ Greer swept her perfectly cut fringe across her face. ‘I miss seeing people. You see Mickey every day at work.’

  ‘Exactly.’

  ‘Oh, you’re being silly. We’re going over there and that’s that.’

  *

  Loveday was as nervous as kitten. She’d spent all day cleaning the house and cooking an enormous fish pie and was now laying up the small kitchen table. Hal, who had been grizzling and needy since the early hours, was strapped to her chest. ‘Now then, Hal my lad,’ she told him as she folded some paper napkins into triangles and popped them into the empty wine glasses, ‘you’m going to meet your friend Freddie tonight, so I want you on your best behaviour. Understand?’ She looked down at him, seeing his little face snuggled against her breasts. ‘I don’t want any trouble from you.’ He looked up at her and gave a smile to melt her heart. ‘That’s my boy.’ He caught her gaze and continued to hold it, his face gradually turning from shell pink to puce. ‘Oh, no. Not now. I’ve only just changed you,’ she beseeched, but it was too late. She felt the release as a magnificent poo hit his nappy and then the unmistakable liquid warmth as it escaped through the leg holes of his baby-grow. ‘Oh, Hal.’ She unclipped his harness and held him at arm’s length. She looked down at her last clean shirt. ‘Oh, no, you’ve done it all over me as well.’

  She heard Mickey’s key in the lock and called from the kitchen, ‘Darling, Hal’s just shat all over me. Do you mind helping me wi—’ She stopped as she saw Mickey was not alone. Greer and Jesse were with him, and a perfectly sparkling clean, sleeping Freddie too.

  Loveday wanted to cry but instead she said, ‘Hello. Don’t come too near, I stink. Mickey, get everyone a drink. I’ll be back in a minute.’

  Upstairs, feeling flustered, Loveday did let a few tears flow as she undressed Hal and quickly washed him in the sink. As soon as he was clean and dry, she popped him in his cot, where he promptly fell asleep. ‘I’m not surprised you’re tired. A big poo like that takes it out of you, doesn’t it!’

  She caught sight of her reflection in the long mirror on the landing. There were unpleasant marks on the shirt she’d just changed into and her hair could do with a trip to the hairdresser’s, but so what, she told herself. She was a mum and proud to bear the battle scars.

  Mickey called up the stairs, ‘What you having to drink, Loveday?’

  ‘Big mug of tea.’ She laughed at the sight of herself. ‘I’ll be two minutes.’

  *

  When she got downstairs, Greer was giving Freddie his bottle.

  ‘Sorry about that,’ said Loveday. ‘Now let’s have a proper look at you both. I’ve missed you.’

  She bent to kiss Greer’s proffered cheek and sat down next to her. ‘How are you? I’m so sorry that you had such a bad time.’

  Greer looked fabulous, despite having been so ill. Her hair and make-up were understated but effective, her figure trim and her clothes unsullied. ‘I’m a lot better. How about you?’

  ‘Oh, as you can see …’ Loveday held her hands out to show off the chaos of the cottage. ‘Just the same.’

  Greer smiled.

  Mickey came in from the kitchen. ‘Glass of wine for you, Greer, and a cup of tea for my darling wife.’

  Loveday took her mug gratefully. ‘I think this’ll be the first hot cup of tea I’ve managed all day.’

  ‘Would you like a hold of Freddie?’ asked Greer, putting his bottle aside and reaching for the glass Mickey was proffering.

  Jesse put a hand to his mouth involuntarily. ‘Loveday’s got a hot drink in her hand,’ he said.

  ‘She can put it down,’ smiled Greer reasonably.

  Loveday felt caught under the expectant, innocent eyes of Greer and Mickey and the unmistakably hard eyes of Jesse.

  ‘Here you are,’ said Greer, handing Freddie over. ‘This is your auntie Loveday.’ Loveday took Freddie in her arms and looked quickly at Jesse, who was pulling at his upper lip, his eyes on the carpet. ‘In actual fact,’ Greer continued, ‘I want her to be more than your auntie.’ She beamed at Loveday. ‘I want her to be your godmummy.’

  Loveday didn’t know what to say, but it didn’t matter because Greer was still talking. ‘And, I want you, Mickey, to be goddaddy.’

  Mickey was shocked with happiness at this honour. ‘Oh my! Well, that’s just wonderful. I accept.’ He pumped Jesse’s arm and then hugged him for good measure. ‘Ain’t that marvellous, Loveday?’

  Loveday was staring into little Freddie’s face and saw a look, a fleeting look, of Hal. No, no it couldn’t be. They were not brothers. They weren’t. She’d been mistaken. She was feeling clammy and wanted to get Freddie out of her arms. Mickey obliged. ‘Come and have a cuddle with your uncle Mickey.’ He took Freddie, freeing Loveday to get to her feet. ‘Excuse me, I must look at the fish pie.’

  ‘Hang on,’ said Mickey, stopping her. ‘I want to ask something of you, Greer, and you, Jesse.’

  Loveday knew instantly what was coming.

  ‘I haven’t had a chance to run this past Loveday yet.’ He put his arm round her shoulder. ‘But I know she will be wanting the same thing.’ He left a small but dramatic pause. ‘My wife and I would be honoured if you would both be godparents to our Hal.’

  ‘It would be our pleasure,’ smiled Greer. ‘Wouldn’t it, Jesse?’ She looked over to where he sat, motionless.

  Loveday could barely breathe.

  Jesse looked at Mickey, still cradling Freddie; he looked at Greer, waiting expectantly. Finally he looked into Loveday’s eyes. ‘Yes. It would be an honour. I am proud to accept.’

  Greer took her glass in her hand and raised it. ‘To our sons, who will grow together like brothers.’

  Upstairs, Hal opened his eyes and his lungs and screamed.

  *

  Apart from Hal screaming and Freddie sleeping like an angel, Greer drinking wine because she was bottle-feeding and Loveday having to stick to tea because she wasn’t, the little supper party was more or less enjoyable.

  Jesse dealt with his inner turmoil by drinking too much beer and Mickey matched him out of the sheer joy at their being all together again.

  The fish pie was complimented and the pudding of arctic roll and tinned peaches was welcomed as an old favourite. Even Greer had a spoonful.

  Loveday told Mickey to get everyone settled in the lounge while she brewed up a pot of coffee and cleared the table. The babies were finally sleeping. Hal in his cot upstairs and Freddie in his car seat on the rug.

  Alone in the kitchen, Loveday took a moment to release the tension of the evening. She stood at the sink, clutching the cold enamel and staring out into the dark of the back garden. She could see the reflection of the room behind her in the glass. Mickey so happy and so unweighted by any of the guilt that burdened her. Greer so pretty and so bloody perfect.

  Jesse, so … fucking annoyingly gorgeous. She knew Mickey was a much better person than Jesse; she knew she was so unbelievably lucky to have him, his unconditional love, and her beautiful Hal. But her mind and her body were saying different things; she just could not help that feeling of pure desire that surged through her whenever she saw Jesse bleddy Behenna.

  She saw him bend his head to hear something Greer was saying, then he stood and came towards the kitchen, towards Loveday. She didn’t turn round.

  ‘Loveday?’

  She turned the taps on and squeezed a healthy stream of washing-up liquid into the bowl. ‘Yeah?’

  ‘Do you have any sweeteners … for Greer’s coffee.’

  She turned and pointed to the shelf next to the cooker. ‘If I’ve got any they’ll be on there.’

  She concentrated on picking up a wine glass and washing it carefully in the suds.

  ‘Nope. Can�
��t see any,’ he said, stepping back to stand next to her.

  ‘Sorry.’ She rinsed the glass under the cold tap.

  Still he stood next to her. ‘You OK?’ he asked quietly.

  ‘Yeah.’ She pulled a face. ‘Why wouldn’t I be?’

  ‘I looked at Hal tonight and can see only you in him,’ Jesse said.

  ‘That’s because he’s mine,’ Loveday said firmly.

  ‘And Mickey’s?’ Jesse asked.

  ‘And Mickey’s.’

  He still didn’t move. She picked up another glass and began washing it with a little more vigour than last time.

  ‘Good,’ he said.

  ‘Yeah. Good.’ Her hands stopped in the soapy water and she looked at Jesse intently. ‘Hal is Mickey’s and Freddie is yours, and that’s that.’

  22

  Spring 1996

  In the light morning mist, Jesse could see the white brick of the day marker on the cliffs cupping the entrance to Trevay’s harbour. For almost two centuries it had guided the fisherman to safety.

  The engine of The Lobster Pot chugged reassuringly at just over ten knots. The sea was choppy and a cackle of seagulls followed the churning wake, hoping for a breakfast of fish gut and titbits.

  Jesse was at the wheel. Over the last two years Edward had slowly handed the role of skipper to his son and now hardly ever came out on the boat. Not that he didn’t want to. He was a victim of the success of the merger between the Behenna and the Clovelly families, and spent almost all his working hours office-bound.

  Jesse knew his father and father-in-law would be pleased with the latest catch. The hold was brimming with the best the sea could offer. He counted his blessings.

  His own boat.

  Money coming in.

  A son he adored.

  A marriage that was happy enough.

  A secret that was safe.

  The longer time went on, the more he began to feel sure that the moment of madness that he and Loveday had shared would never be discovered. He and she had buried it deeply. They never spoke of it. Anyway, Hal was a dead ringer for Loveday. Reddish hair, still plump. While blond, wiry Freddie looked every inch a Behenna. Everyone commented on it.