Uphill All the Way (20 page)

Judith sipped her grapefruit juice. It had a gin in it. She didn't trust the breathalyser to concur with human judgement on safe limits, so it would be her only alcoholic drink of the evening. 'Do you have to do anything with him? He's twenty-two.'

Tom snorted. 'But he's my son, living in my house! I ask why he's so damned miserable, and he gets all defensive.'

'Perhaps he doesn't wish to be asked?'

'But he's living in my house.'

Judith sighed. 'That doesn't mean he can't run his own life.'

Tom, as always, simply ignored opinions that didn't chime with his. 'Do
you
know what's the matter with him?'

Judith dropped her eyes.
Yes,
said her inward desire to confess.
He's got his girlfriend pregnant, a young girlfriend you know nothing about. Her name's Bethan Sutherland and she's a seventeen-year-old schoolgirl. Her parents hate him for spoiling her life, but when they try to keep Kieran away from her, Bethan threatens to run away. Neither Kieran nor Bethan want to be parents, they're screwing up their courage to have the baby adopted, but feel wretched at the idea. Kieran's hushing this up, he's never really stopped being scared of you. He'd like to move to his own place, but he knows he's not good with money and has trouble running a car and a mobile phone, let alone a flat. So he's stuck with you. I'm resisting his hints to let him live with me. That
would
cause you pain - but Kieran believes in your bluff exterior and thinks you have no feelings...

'Why would I know?' she parried, instead.

'He's always confided in you.'

He drank the last of his final half of bitter, and glared at the glass as if it had betrayed him by being empty, frown lines deepening to furrows. 'You were the one who did the lion's share of bringing him up. Pity you couldn't have stayed and seen the job through.' As so often, he brought anger to what had been a perfectly amicable situation. His eyes lifted accusingly. 'You act so goodie-goodie, with your cross and chain and your sincere expression. But you gave up on us too easily!'

Judith pushed aside her empty glass. The trick in dealing with Tom when he turned unreasonable was to remain calm. 'I know you long ago excused yourself. Having your cake and eating it was a mistake rather than a divorcing offence, in your opinion. But it's not the case, Tom, not for this cake.'

He glared, persisting, 'No one made you go, I didn't want it, Kieran didn't want it, it was your choice! Sometimes things go wrong in a marriage and you have to be strong and - '

She rose and stretched, unhurriedly. 'Night, Tom.'

He did a big, exaggerated tut-and-sigh, throwing his thick, rough hands into the air. 'Don't be so sensitive! I was only saying.'

He watched her as she felt for her car keys. And he sighed like a gust of wind, his shoulders dropping. 'Judith... people keep telling me they see Kieran out around town. With a girl. And she's pregnant.'

Her heart accelerated.

He turned his face to her, pain and anxiety in every furrow. 'Why don't I know what's going on?'

'You need to ask him,' she suggested, gently, her heart going out to a man who found it difficult to express any emotion but anger.

His eyes narrowed. 'You know, don't you?'

'Ask him.'

A great sadness swept over his face. 'Why didn't you tell me?'

She sank back into her seat, and covered his big, rough hand with hers. 'Ask him.' She hesitated before adding, 'Ask him as if you want to help. Try not to shout.'

He snatched his hand from under hers with a growl, and Judith thought, with despair, that a mushroom cloud was going to appear over Brinham now that Tom knew about the baby.

A funny day, she mused, striding back to the market square where she'd parked the car. Adam being difficult, then Tom being... Tom. She thought longingly of the peace and quiet of Lavender Row. Molly was out so she could have a long, hot bath and read her book in peace...

Except, when she drew up outside her house, she found Caleb and Matthias Leblond waiting on her garden wall, hunched into a thick army parka (Caleb) and a red Marmot Alpinist jacket (Matthias). They slid from the red brick and onto their feet with matching grins as she climbed from her little car.

'Seen Dad?' Caleb, the last person she'd associate with peace or quiet, huffed into the chilly air and watched his breath turn white.

'I was hoping for a last chat about the wedding photos,' added Matthias, 'but we can't find him.' Matthias was completely calm about his wedding, even now when the great day was less than two weeks away. Not for him half-meant jokes about only having one woman for the rest of his life, or not wanting to hear another word about bouquets, bridesmaids and black cars. Judith had never met a bridegroom so willing.

Caleb, as usual, looked crumpled and bemused as if he'd come from a heavy weekend at a rock festival. The upper section of his dark hair was pulled into a tail at the top of his head and his jeans were slashed. In contrast, Matthias, with his sharply short tawny hair and ironed denims, looked as if he'd just stepped from a
Next
catalogue.

She locked the car with the remote. 'I saw him at a shoot today, and left him at his flat after I downloaded the pix.'

Caleb's forehead furrowed gently. 'Wonder where he's gone?'

Huddling further into her coat against a wind that felt as if it were slicing her to shreds, Judith frowned. 'Is his mobile off?'

Matthias nodded. He really was a terribly good-looking man; he had Adam's cheekbones. 'Mobile off, answering machine picking up at his flat.'

'Maybe he's with a woman?' Caleb grinned, lewdly.

Matthias shrugged. 'Possible, I suppose.'

'He's such a gent he's bound to turn the phone off during - '

'Have you tried your mother's house?' Judith interrupted, making for the front door. The street was too chilly for her. No fan of cold weather at any time, this first winter back in England was proving particularly unbearable, even after the purchase of an enormous duvet-thickness coat in emerald green that Adam laughed at and called her cocoon.

Caleb allowed himself to be distracted from prurient speculation. 'He's not there.'

Both young men hovered as Judith wriggled the key into the lock. She grinned at their transparently hopeful expressions. 'Coffee?'

'Brilliant!'

'Cool!'

They jumped up the two steps and crowded into the warmth behind her, full of young man energy. 'Tot in the coffee?' suggested Caleb, extracting a half-bottle of whisky from one of the many pockets of his parka.

Judith tutted in mock disapproval as she slid it from his hand. 'You're a lot like your father.'

Once coffee mugs were steaming fragrantly on the low table, Judith pressed play on the answering machine as she dropped into a chair.

You have two messages
.
First message
, 'Oh,
Mum
! Aren't you there?'

She rolled her eyes. 'I can't be here all the time, Kieran.'

The second began with a lot of clicking and beeping. And then Adam's voice, measured and deep. 'Jude, I tried your mobile, but it went straight to voicemail. I'm at the hospital. Bethan's in labour and panicking like mad. Kieran's gone to bits and has asked me to try and locate you. Bethan's parents are being hostile. I'll hang around till you get here.'

She snatched her mobile phone from her pocket. A blank screen. She must have forgotten to put it back on after the shoot.

'So that's where Dad is!' Caleb sounded pleased to have the mystery solved.

Matthias looked interested. 'Who's Bethan? Does Dad mean your Kieran, Judith?'

But Judith, a sudden victim to the shakes, was handing back the whisky and hunting down the emerald green cocoon.

She whizzed through the frosty evening to where the blocky grey shapes of the hospital buildings huddled at the edge of town. At least there were parking spaces available at this time of night, she thought, reversing raggedly into one. Parking was murder during the day, and if you ever found a space it cost you three quid.

Gathering her bag, she fumbled to lock up. How strung up Kieran would be with excitement and nerves! Amazing to think of him as a father. Her son! What would that make her? A step-grandma. An ex-step-grandma? She'd never hankered to be any such thing, but it was difficult not to be moved at the thought of Kieran's baby.

Adam was waiting in the lobby of the maternity building. He met her as she dashed into the serene, cloying warmth and antiseptic smell of hospital. 'He rang my flat, trying to find you - '

'My phone was still off from the shoot - '

They stopped. Judith laughed, dragging off her coat, far too warm for the powerful central heating. Adam looked as if he was dealing with things with his usual calm, but she felt like a fizzy drink that had just been shaken, ready to explode in a fountain of bubbles. 'You're a saint, Adam, thanks for being with him. Is he in the delivery room?'

'Bethan's parents have been doing their best to exclude him, but he's hanging in there. I expect he'll be out looking for you any time now.' His eyes looked dark in the night-time lighting. 'He rang my place, trying to find you, Jude. Both he and Bethan were in a state, so I offered to drive them to the hospital, as I was only a few minutes away.'

She clenched her hands. 'You are kind. Crikey, this is exciting, isn't it? Although I still feel for poor Tom... Anyway, I hope the baby will bring joy, and perhaps the tension between Kieran and the Sutherlands will fade as they realise they all have the same baby to love. I think Bethan and Kieran will keep it once they've had it in their arms, don't you? How could they not? And maybe Nick and Hannah Sutherland will realise that Kieran's not such a bad lad.'

Adam picked up his jacket. He looked tired, strained, she thought, noticing the deep lines beside his eyes and mouth. Maybe he was feeling under the weather? It would explain his crankiness this afternoon, and the sudden hug he gave her. He was not a casual embracer, they didn't kiss cheeks when they met or link arms if they were walking. She wasn't certain whether he'd always been reserved, or whether it was Shelley's disgust for his maimed hand that made him so unsure how welcome was his touch.

'Matthias and Caleb were looking for you,' she called after him. 'Matthias wants to talk about the wedding photos.'

He raised a hand to show that he'd heard.

It was very still, after he'd gone. Still and almost silent. She caught a bustling midwife who promised to tell Kieran that she was there, then settled herself on a blue plastic chair to examine the lobby. Dim lighting. A broad green line leading from the front door to guide labouring women to the sanctuary of the delivery suites, a silent understanding that brains sometimes turn to custard under the onslaught of childbirth and following a floor plan might be too difficult.

Twelve blue chairs, the hard kind that bit into the buttocks until they found bone.

Periods of silence punctuated by doors swishing open, the faint groan of a woman. Another, crying jaggedly. The drinks machine gurgling. The glad sound of the wail of a newborn.

A half-hour passed slowly.

And another.

Where was Kieran? He'd asked for her, why didn't he come? And, now she had time to think about it, why had he asked for her? Surely the place for her was at home, on tenterhooks for news? If Bethan had only just gone into labour it might be twenty-four hours before the baby arrived.

She looked up at the sound of voices. The Sutherlands! Nick's arms around Hannah. Her heart leapt with anticipatory joy as she hopped up. 'Any news?' She was appalled to hear herself adopt un-Judith-like hushed-but-soppily-thrilled tones.

The couple sank into seats. They didn't look as if they were coping well with the strain.

Nick glanced up at Judith. The only colour in his face was the blue of his eyes and the purple shadows below. He hesitated. 'I'm afraid the news is bad. You'd better sit down.'

Bad. Bad? Dread formed in her chest, ice cold and solid.

Her knees weakened and she sat, heavily, suddenly, her voice drying to a croak. 'What?'

'They can't find the baby's heartbeat,' Nick admitted, baldly. He licked his lips and ran his palm over his thinning hair. 'They went for a quiet drink, Bethan and your lad.' That would be Kieran. 'Her waters broke. Me and Hannah were out for the evening, near Cambridge, Bethan rang in a flap and I told her it would take us about forty minutes to get to her, so to phone an ambulance and we'd meet her at the hospital.' He glanced at his wife.

'But Kieran rang your friend, trying to find you,' Hannah put in.

'Adam.' Judith nodded.

'Bethan was in a state, so your friend kindly drove them to the hospital.' She cleared her throat. Her face was chalky, her eyes bright with dread. 'Bethan, apparently, was fretful and crying, she said she hadn't felt the baby move all day.' She wound her hair around her finger. 'She was distressed. Said she had a bad feeling.'