Summer Nights at the Moonlight Hotel (35 page)

She swallows. ‘I’d been feeling really ropey all day but put it down to nothing more than the pregnancy in general. So I thought I’d just, you know, go for a walk, take it
easy. I didn’t overdo anything, I swear.’

‘Of course not,’ I reassure her, clutching her hand.

‘Then tonight . . . we’d had dinner and, obviously, I wasn’t drinking and all we were doing was watching a film, but I got up to go to the loo, and that’s when I felt it
– this pain in my belly. It wasn’t even that bad – just like period pains. I went to the bathroom and it was then that I realised I was bleeding. Not just a little bit,
either.’

‘Is it still happening now?’ I ask quietly, glancing round, wishing the triage nurse would come.

‘No. Maybe,’ she says, shrugging. ‘Not as much. The thing is, Lauren, I know I wasn’t sure about the baby at first but that was because it was all so unexpected. I
couldn’t get my head around the whole thing. But now I have. Now I really want it. I hadn’t realised how much.’

‘I’m no expert but I’m sure I heard that this can happen in early pregnancy and it doesn’t necessarily mean anything bad has happened,’ I tell her.
‘Don’t leap to any conclusions.’

She nods. ‘Part of me doesn’t know why I’m here. They’re not going to be able to do a foetal scan or anything tonight. I just . . . I was scared. I didn’t know
where else to go.’

‘You’ve done the right thing.’

The triage door opens and a nurse comes out and calls Emily’s name.

Em nods and stands up. ‘I’m coming with you,’ I tell her.

But she hesitates. ‘What is it?’ I ask.

‘It’s OK, Lauren, I don’t need you to come with me. I’m not by myself. He’s just parking the car.’

My stomach sinks as I realise Joe is about to follow her in.

‘Then you’re in good hands,’ I say quietly. ‘I know Joe will look after you.’

She doesn’t move. She just looks me in the eyes and says a series of words that are laden with meaning – a meaning I don’t grasp.

‘My baby’s father brought me, Lauren,’ she says.

‘That’s what I said, Joe brought you.’

She looks at her hands and whispers her reply. ‘Not Joe.’

The double doors slide open and we both look up.

And standing there, with panic in his eyes, is a man I recognise instantly but never in a million years expected to see in this scenario.

He walks over, barely registers my presence, before slipping his hand in Emily’s and walking towards the door with her, as incredulity sweeps over me and I attempt to put together the
pieces of the jigsaw in my head.

The man who Emily has just told me is the father of her baby is not Joe. It’s Nick Goodwin. Little Tom’s dad.

Emily and Nick Goodwin are only in with the triage nurse for a matter of minutes. When the door re-opens, Emily shuffles over to me immediately. ‘I’ve been sent
straight in. I can’t really explain.’

I nod, then my eyes flick up spontaneously to Nick. But he can’t bring himself to look at me. ‘I’m going to get your bag out of the car,’ he says, and squeezes Emily on
the arm. She nods and he heads outside.

When we’re alone, Emily turns to me, a glaze on her eyes. ‘Don’t hate me, Lauren.’

‘Of course not,’ I say, though I can’t deny I’m completely bewildered by all this; by when Nick came into this equation – and where Joe fits in. If he fits in
anywhere . . .

She lowers herself on to the seat next to me. ‘You and Cate assumed so much about Joe and me, but we were never serious,’ she says, as if reading my thoughts. ‘I liked him a
lot – fancied him at the beginning . . . but we went on a few dates, went walking a lot and became friends. Friends who both enjoyed the mountains and each other’s company, but nothing
more than that.’ She pauses to think.

‘Then I met Nick – he’s friends with one of the other guys at Windermere Adventures and came on a couple of nights out at the Golden Rule. We just kind of clicked and got to
know each other and . . .’ She looks up at me, trying to read my face. ‘It all happened so quickly. I fell completely in love with him.’

I am speechless, there’s no other word for it.

‘I let you believe there was more to Joe and me simply because I couldn’t tell you about Nick. I felt ashamed,’ she says, lowering her head miserably. ‘I feel ashamed.
Not just because of the affair, but because I know Tom is in your class. I know how fond you are of him – I remember you telling me that story about his cousin calling him a
‘brat’ and he thought it meant some little animal . . .’

I didn’t even remember telling Emily about that.

‘It became
impossible
to tell you, Lauren,’ she goes on. ‘And I knew that if I’d told Cate she couldn’t have kept it from you. She’s never been any
good at keeping secrets, not like you.’

‘So you and Joe . . .’

‘There isn’t a me and Joe. Like I say, we went out on dates at first, then became friends. We carried on with some climbing every so often, but it’s nothing like the big
romance I let you think it was. I didn’t mean to lie to you. I just never corrected you because it became so much easier not to. I’m sorry.’

‘I . . . God . . .’ A dozen questions are bubbling up to my lips. ‘But Jenny – Nick’s wife . . . ’

‘Nick’s leaving her,’ she finishes.

‘What? But he can’t.’

Defiance shines in her eyes as she hisses, ‘He’s about to become a father with me, Lauren. And more to the point, he loves
me
.’

I can feel my jaw clench as I think about Tom’s sad little face, how upset and quiet this gorgeous, bright little boy has been lately. If Emily had any idea what this would do to him . .
.

‘I know it won’t be easy for Tom,’ she adds. The words trip off her tongue so effortlessly I have a feeling that the truth is, she doesn’t. ‘Kids get over it
though, don’t they? People divorce all the time. And their marriage is over. It was over long before I came on the scene.’

It strikes me that now might not be the time to remind her that
they all say that
.

‘Even before Nick found out about the baby, he knew that was what he had to do. The baby just makes everything clear. But even if . . .’ she looks around, remembering where she is.
‘Even if something awful happened, he’s leaving her – to be with me.’

I am mute, unable to know what to do or say, entirely unable to share the triumph in her voice.

‘Emily Costa?’ The doctor pops her head round the door again.

‘I need to go,’ she says urgently. Nick appears, skulking at the door, glancing at me with shifty eyes, suddenly looking far less of the man he was.

I look back at her. ‘I hope everything’s all right,’ I manage.

She nods, takes Nick by the hand, and they disappear into the emergency room.

Jeremy is dispatched from the A&E clutching two Paracetamol and an ice pack. The only thing missing is a Mr Bump sticker and a lollipop. By the time I’ve driven to
his temporary hovel i.e. Mum’s house, then home, I’m too wired to sleep.

The events of the last twenty-four hours ricochet around my head, making me toss and turn, with I can do nothing except sit up and switch the light on. First there’s Emily and the fact
that she’s been having an affair with Nick Goodwin. An actual affair, with lies and secrets and clandestine meetings . . . all of which is about to add up to the destruction of Tom
Goodwin’s world.

I’ve never considered myself the judgemental type. And I’m trying not to judge Emily. But it bothers me how flippant she sounded about Nick and Jenny’s marriage break-up and
its effect on Tom. Perhaps it’s because I’m Tom’s teacher, but I can’t feel anything other than distaste for what Emily and Nick are doing, no matter how in love they say
they are.

Then there’s Cate and the money she’s given to Robby, something I feel more and more uneasy about. Even if he does disappear to France, and those pictures are never to be seen again,
I can’t shake a sense that the bad guy has won.

But more than any of those things, I cannot stop thinking about Joe.

Beautiful, kind, generous Joe who wasn’t even remotely doing the dirty on Emily when he tried to kiss me. Gorgeous Joe, who built me a gazebo and made me fall in love with him . . . only
for me to throw it away like a piece of dirt.

I have no idea how I can ever show my face in front of him again. I wanted him to hate me – and that’s exactly what I made him do. I finally plunge into a dreamless sleep at around
4.30 a.m., but even then it’s not for long. When my eyes flutter open, sunlight pushing its way through my window, the clock reads 8.14 a.m.

So, I flip off my sheets and push myself up, feeling a need to at least repair one of the relationships in my life right now. It might not be the most important one, but it’s a start.

The woman who answers Edwin’s door is tall and fine-boned with a silk scarf caressing her neck and a long suede coat in a violent shade of purple. I don’t need her
to introduce herself as Edwin’s mum – they’re so alike.

‘Can I help?’ she smiles, clearly wondering if I’m selling something.

‘I’m a friend of Edwin’s,’ I announce. ‘I’ve just come to say goodbye before he leaves.’

‘Oh!’ she exclaims. ‘You must be Sarah.’

‘Um . . . no, I’m—’

‘Gillian!’

‘Er, no.’

‘Diane?’ she tries.

‘I’m Lauren.’ Not even a flicker of recognition passes her face.

‘Oh, Mum, there’s a crockery set here.’ Edwin arrives behind her and looks at me. ‘Oh.’

‘Hi,’ I say, smiling uncomfortably.

‘Come in, come in,’ he says, beckoning me. ‘Mother, this is Lauren.’

‘I know, I can’t keep up!’ she hoots, as he reddens slightly around the ears. ‘Darling, I’m going to leave you now – but you’re coming over for
breakfast before you go, aren’t you?’

‘I will, Mum,’ he says, kissing her on the cheek.

‘Nice to meet you, Mrs Blaire,’ I smile.

‘You too, Lisa,’ she says, closing the door behind her.

Edwin looks at me. ‘Just a little going-away gift,’ I say, handing over my present: the art deco hip-flask I bought him months ago. ‘You can open it now if you like.’

He doesn’t exactly crack a smile, but beckons me over to the sofa, where he proceeds to unwrap the gift. I can tell he likes it, even before he says so.

‘I’m sorry about the way things turned out,’ I say.

‘There’s no need to be, Lauren. There really isn’t. Things have worked out fine.’

‘I know I’ve let you down over the flatmate thing – that I’ve left you in the lurch.’

‘No, you haven’t,’ he tells me. ‘I’m not going to Singapore either. Fiona and I are back together.’

I feel my eyes bulge. ‘Really?’

‘After everything that happened, it made me realise that excitement isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.’ For a man whose idea of a wild night is getting drunk in front of
The Great British Bake Off
, this strikes me as quite a statement. ‘Fiona isn’t the most thrilling woman on earth, she’d be the first to admit that. But she and I . . . I
think fundamentally we’re made for each other.’

‘Wow.’ It’s all I can manage.

‘So we’re moving to Hampshire, to be closer to her family. I’m going to do some supply work and see how it goes. But I think I’ve really discovered what I want in
life.’

Six months ago if he’d told me this, I’d have been devastated. Now, I’m so relieved I could weep. Edwin and Fiona are back together and it feels as though
some
equilibrium is restored in this world.

‘You know what, Edwin, I hope you’re really happy together. I genuinely mean that.’

He smiles. ‘Thanks, Lauren. Or should I say . . .
Tiger
.’

I look at him blankly.

‘That’s what you asked me to call you that night. Tiger.’

‘Oh! Oh, of course I did. Ha! Well, it was . . .an experience, wasn’t it?’

‘It certainly was.’ He adjusts his trousers and sighs.

‘Well, I’d better be going,’ I say, standing up. ‘You’ve still got a lot of packing to do, by the look of it.’

‘I have,’ he says, showing me to the door. We embrace in a suitably brief manner, before releasing each other. I turn to leave when it occurs to me to ask him something.

‘Edwin, who are Sarah, Gillian and Diane?’

He shrugs. ‘Oh, no one. Just . . . people on Tinder.’

I raise my eyebrows. ‘Tinder?’

‘Nothing ever came of any of them,’ he reassures me. ‘And I never
did
anything with them. Not like you and I did. But it was all very time-consuming at one
point.’

I finally realise why getting a date with Edwin was harder than getting an audience with the Pope. He was a serial dater. ‘Anyway, Lauren. I really appreciate you coming over here. And,
for the record, that night we spent together . . . I honestly don’t think I’ll ever forget it.’

I haven’t got the heart to tell him I don’t think I’ll ever remember it.

Emily has lost the baby. It happened a few hours after her hospital visit, something confirmed by a scan this morning. She tells me in my living room, as she clutches a cup of
untouched tea later in the afternoon.

I knew she was coming over because she texted en route to say Nick was dropping her off, but that still didn’t prepare me for the broken figure on my doorstep, the one whose pale skin
seems to cling to her cheekbones. As she’d rightly guessed, the A&E couldn’t give her a definitive answer last night, so she had to wait to go to the maternity department this
morning, where her darkest fears were confirmed.

‘I’m so sorry,’ I say helplessly. But the words don’t seem big enough.

‘I just feel . . . sick. I can’t believe this has happened. This was a baby I never even knew I wanted.’ The words scratch at the back of her throat. ‘Now, I’d give
anything – literally anything – for her to have lived.’

I lower my eyes. Emily had no way of knowing the sex of her baby, but she’d obviously convinced herself she was having a daughter.

‘This doesn’t change anything between Nick and me though,’ she continues. ‘He knows I need him more than ever.’

I pick up my tea, but can’t bring myself to drink it. ‘Nick’s definitely leaving Jenny then?’