The Mill House (56 page)

Julia looked away, as though to shut out the images of herself in Tuscany with Rico and their child. It wasn't what she wanted, not even for a minute. All she wanted was Josh and her children.

In the end she walked back to the table. 'Tell me honestly,' she said as she sat down, 'if you were in my position, what would you do?'

Fen lowered her eyes as she shook her head. 'I think I would find it as difficult as you do,' she answered truthfully, 'but what you have with Josh is very special. I'd give almost anything to be loved that much, so I guess my answer to your question is, in your position, I'd put my marriage and my children first. But that's easy to say from this side

of the table, and I don't want to talk you into something you don't feel is right.'

Wishing she knew what she felt, Julia merely looked down at her hands.

Fen glanced at her watch. 'I'm sorry, but I have to get back to the office,' she said. 'We can talk again tonight, if you like.'

'I've taken up so much of your time already.' 'It's one of the blessings about having your children in school all week and your husband working all hours,' Fen replied, going to put on her coat, 'you have plenty of evenings to yourself.' After tugging on her boots she straightened up and said, 'I'll bring something decadent home, shall I, like fish and chips or pizza?' Then seeing Julia's expression, she smiled. 'No appetite?' Julia shook her head.

'That'll probably change once the cravings kick in.'

Not even wanting to think that far ahead, Julia got up to see her out.

'Listen,' Fen said, before opening the door, 'why don't you make an appointment to see a doctor? You won't have to commit to anything, it'll just be for a chat, so he can tell you what a termination actually involves. Maybe then, you'll be in a better position to decide.'

'You could be right,' Julia agreed. 'Do you know anyone?'

'Around here I know everyone, and there's an excellent private clinic just outside Truro. I'm on first-name terms with a couple of the doctors there, so I'll make the appointment for you, if you like. I'll even come with you, but I won't be free

now until Saturday morning. Can you wait that long?'

'For something like this I could wait for ever,' Julia responded dryly, 'but a day and a half's fine.'

'Will you tell Josh?'

Julia's heart turned over. 'I don't know what I'll tell Josh,' she answered. 'I just know I've never been good at keeping secrets from him.'

'Well, to quote your own father,' Fen said, hugging her, 'sometimes secrets are best left untold.'

After she'd gone Julia went to check the messages on the machine, even though she knew there were none. A quick dial of 1471 told her that the last caller hadn't been Josh, but he'd let her know this morning, before she'd done the test, that he might not have time to speak again until this evening.

She picked up her mobile to check that for messages too, but though there was nothing new, there was still the text that had come from Shannon earlier saying good morning. That had been quite a breakthrough, since it was the first unprompted communication she'd made in weeks.

Since it was still not quite two o'clock, and Josh hadn't mentioned meeting anyone for lunch, she took a chance that he might be working through, and dialled his direct number. She wasn't sure what she intended to say, she simply felt the need to hear his voice.

'Hi darling,' he said, when he heard hers. 'You beat me to it. I was just about to ring you. Vanessa Keyes left a message earlier, wanting to know if we're going to take tickets for the Christmas ball this year.'

Julia's heart started a dull, horrible thud. 'Do you want to?' she asked.

'We usually do,' he replied, 'but if you'd rather not...'

'No, it's not that. Did she mention anything about dinner next week?'

'Yes, actually, she did. I said we were still up for it, but...'

'I think we should cancel,' she said, and tensed in readiness for his explosion.

But it didn't come. Instead he said, 'Julia, please tell me what's going on. Is he there with you? Is that what this is about?'

'No!' she cried. 'He's not in my life any more.' Then realising that wasn't strictly true, she said, 'I don't want him, I want you.'

'Then why are you still there? You're hiding something from me, that much is clear, so for God's sake tell me what it is.'

'I can't, Josh. I'm sorry, I just can't.' 'Julia, I'm going out of my mind here. You can't keep doing this. I have to know what's happening ...'

'Nothing's happening. I swear it.' 'Then why won't you come back?' 'Because ...' Her breath caught on a sob. 'I'm sorry, I don't know how to tell you this ...' 'Just say it!'

She took a breath and closed her eyes tightly, as though somehow that would hold the devastation back from the words. It was impossible though, and she knew it, so in the end, unable to put him through any more confusion and doubt, whilst aware she was about to push him into a far worse

hell, she braced herself and said, 'I'm pregnant, Josh. I'm going to have a baby.'

The silence that followed was more excruciating than anything she'd ever known in her life. She could see him sitting at his desk, taking almost no time to figure out that the baby couldn't be his, then reeling from all the implications that would come crowding in on him. She could hardly bear to think of his pain, or to know what was going through his mind, yet she would almost welcome his anger, anything rather than this awful, terrible, silence. But it stretched on and on, until eventually she realised he'd hung up.

After putting the phone down Josh continued to sit at his desk. The echo of her words was still there, along with the reality of their meaning, but he was holding it all at a distance, afraid to let it in, for fear of what he might do once he did.

He got up and walked to the window, and as he gazed down into the street he found himself imagining scenarios he'd never dreamt himself capable of, for he'd never been a violent man, but the thought of the Italian's child inside his wife ... He recoiled from the horror of it, then hearing Marina returning from lunch, he picked up his coat and left, with no idea of where he was going. He only knew that he couldn't carry on with this day as though his entire future hadn't just been blown apart.

Once in the car he headed for the Cromwell Road, and for one wild moment he considered following it out to the M4, then the M5 and all the way down to Cornwall. But what would he do

when he got there? He could change nothing, and for now it was best that he didn't see her.

As he pulled up in Abbotsbury Road, alongside Holland Park, his mobile started to ring. Seeing it was her, he turned the phone off and stepped out of the car.

The park was almost deserted, just a few hardy dog-walkers, and a couple of mothers trundling pushchairs along the leaf-strewn paths. He walked around the Orangerie, then in through the arcades with their Victorian picnic frescoes, and on to the pond where he sat down on a bench and welcomed the bite of the wind, as though its icy edge might anaesthetise what was going on inside him.

For a long time he merely stared through the glistening cascades of a fountain to the grand windows of the Belvedere restaurant, where they'd celebrated several anniversaries over the years. He hadn't proposed to her there, he'd done that one hot summer's night at The Gate cinema in Notting Hill, during The Year of Living Dangerously.

'Would you fancy doing that with only me for the rest of your life?' he'd whispered as Mel Gibson got it on with Sigourney Weaver in the back of a car.

'Yes,' she'd whispered back without missing a beat.

A few minutes later, after the crucial moment was over, they'd annoyed everyone by getting up and creeping along the row, until she began telling people that he'd just proposed and she'd accepted. They'd left a lot of smiling faces behind them that night, but the one he would always remember was

hers, as he'd made love to her later, under the stars in this very park.

Now he wondered if he'd ever make love to her again. The idea that he might not folded around his insides as though to close him down altogether. He tried to focus his thoughts elsewhere, but there was nowhere else, only her and their children, everything in the world that mattered to him. He found himself remembering her when she was carrying Shannon and Dan, the womanly swell of her and how he'd never been able to get enough of looking at her. He recalled the many times he'd found her asleep while feeding them, and the love and pride he'd felt while standing watching her, almost unable to believe that this beautiful woman and delicate little child were really his.

Unlike so many men he'd never felt pushed out by his children, probably because she hadn't allowed it to happen, nor had he ever been bored or irritated by family demands. They were the very centre of his life, what gave it meaning and purpose; though of course, he and Julia had had their difficulties and challenges, and the fury with which they sometimes fought could occasionally even outdo the passion with which they made love. Thinking now of how deeply sensual and erotic their intimate life had always been, how demanding, and completely fulfilling, made it hard to understand how they'd come to this. Yet he knew very well that had he not turned to Sylvia, it was very unlikely Julia would be carrying another man's child.

So much pain and jealousy was churning inside him, and fear, and more urges to violence. He'd

always considered her body exclusively his, never to be touched by anyone but him, as his was for her. It was hard to accept how badly they'd let each other down, but he was to blame. None of it would have happened had he not yielded to Sylvia's suggestion, convincing himself that it would do no harm. Well, he was paying for it now, with a price so bitter that he could only wonder what his life would be worth after she'd taken the children and gone to her Italian, which was presumably what she'd do once their marriage was over.

Of course, he wouldn't let her take Shannon and Dan, nor would Shannon be willing to go once she knew the truth, though the thought gave him no comfort at all, for the last thing he wanted was to tear her and Julia apart. As mother and daughter they belonged together. As a family they all did, and it was his role, his duty to see that they stayed that way. It was what he wanted more than anything, but he only had to think of her getting bigger and bigger as the months passed, filling out with a child that wasn't his, to know he couldn't do it. Maybe some men could, but he wasn't one of them. Even looking at her would be hard, while living every day with the truth, lying next to her in bed each night, sometimes attempting to make love to her as though everything was normal, would be virtually impossible. And once the child was born, he could no more imagine himself taking care of it as his own than he could accept the idea of its father ever coming to visit. He didn't have it in him to be that kind of man, nor was he going to pretend he did.

So the only answer, if she wanted to save their marriage, was for her to get rid of the child now, but she'd know that already, and though he might desperately want to demand it, he knew he had no rights here. And even if he did try to force her, what then? They'd no doubt end up with the hideous situation of her never being able to forgive him, so what kind of marriage would that leave them with?

In the end, needing to escape this nightmare pattern of thoughts, he got to his feet and started back to the car. His limbs were stiff with cold, his insides tense with suppressed emotion, but as he walked he barely noticed his discomfort. All he knew was the mounting despondency inside him, for whichever way he looked at it, whether she kept the baby or not, he could see virtually no chance of them making it now.

There were several messages on his mobile when he got back to the car, mostly from Marina, but none from Julia, which disappointed him, though he was still far from ready to talk. He wondered what she was doing now, and how she was. Clearly she wouldn't be in a happy frame of mind, for no matter how strong her feelings might be for the Italian, nothing would ever convince him they were stronger than those for Shannon and Dan.

By eight o'clock that evening he still hadn't spoken to her, nor was he any keener to do so. He merely returned home from work, so worn out by the constant fight with his emotions that it was all he could do to pour himself a drink and not snap his mother's head off when she complained that

dinner would be spoiled if they didn't all sit down right away. The last thing he wanted was to eat, but he could feel the children's eyes on him, and knew they were sensing his mood. Somehow he forced himself to join in their chat, and even managed to ask a few questions about their day, but it didn't take long for silence to fall. He was hardly even aware of it until the telephone rang, and Dan leapt up, shouting, 'It'll probably be Mum.'

Josh ate some food then, and kept his eyes on the muted TV screen up on the wall. He knew Shannon was watching him, so he winked at her, and tried to eat some more.

'Shannon, it's Gilly,' Dan said. 'She wants to know if you're still going shopping on Saturday, because if you are ...'

'No, I'm not,' Shannon snapped. Dan said into the phone, 'No, she's not,' and hung up.

'Not going shopping?' Emma clucked, helping herself to more beans. 'Doesn't sound like you, Shannon.'

'We're going to Cornwall,' Shannon stated, looking straight at her father.