Almost Perfect (52 page)

‘Georgie, what's the matter?' Liam croaked into the receiver, squinting at his bedside clock. ‘It's four in the morning.'

‘Yeah, well Nicholas hasn't worked out how to tell the time yet, and he doesn't know it's four in the morning and therefore a completely inappropriate time to be wide awake and resisting all attempts to be put back to sleep.' She took a breath. ‘You said you wanted to be involved, and you said to ring any time, but obviously you didn't mean it, so–'

‘I'm on my way.'

Georgie lay flat on her back and stretched out, feeling replete. That was the longest block of sleep she'd had in days. Liam had arrived about twenty minutes after she'd called and taken Nicholas from her, insisting she go to bed. But still she hovered, until Liam decided to go for a drive. He'd heard of people driving their babies around in the middle of the night to get them off to sleep, and besides, that way the flat would be quiet and Georgie could get some rest. It made sense. She fussed around, packing a bag of emergency supplies for Liam to take along, and then they were gone. Which was when she realised it was the first time she'd been separated from Nicholas by any distance. Georgie panicked and was about to ring Liam's mobile, but then she imagined him answering the phone while he was driving, and then she imagined him having an
accident, and then she couldn't catch her breath, and finally she had the sense to recognise she was being ludicrous. So she got into the shower and let the warm water run onto her neck and shoulders while she breathed in and out slowly. Gradually she started to relax, and then she felt tired, so tired. She climbed into bed and drifted off to sleep, telling herself that Nicholas was in safe hands. He was with his father, and she knew she could trust Liam with his son, if nothing else.

And now lying here, she became aware that she couldn't hear anything, not a sound. She peered across at her bedside clock. It was almost eight, surely they were back by now. She sat up in bed. Her breasts felt full and a little tender. If Nicholas didn't need a feed, she certainly needed to feed him. She checked in his room first before walking out to the living room. And then she saw them both, curled up asleep on the floor. Nicholas was lying on his lambskin rug with a half-circle of cushions around him. Why, Georgie didn't know, it wasn't as if he could fall off the floor. Liam was lying beside him, another cushion tucked under his head and one arm protectively arched across his son. Where was her camera? She scanned the room; she was always taking pictures of Nicholas, it must be around here somewhere. She finally spotted it on one of the bookshelves. She crept over and picked it up, and slowly got down on her knees, crawling closer to them. She positioned the camera, focussed, and took the shot. Liam stirred as the flash went off. He rolled over onto his back, rubbing his eyes, staring up at the ceiling, probably
wondering where on earth he was for a second. He hadn't noticed Georgie yet.

‘Good morning,' she said.

He looked across at her. ‘Shh, he's sleeping,' he whispered.

‘It's okay,' said Georgie, ‘He's going to have to wake up soon anyway, or else this dam's going to burst.'

Liam frowned while he processed that piece of information. He levered himself up to sit, resting his back against the arm of one of the sofas. She saw him flinch as he flexed his shoulders in a circular motion.

‘The floor's not exactly the most comfortable place to sleep,' Georgie commented.

‘It's okay, I'm just a little stiff.'

‘Why didn't you put Nicholas in his cot, or lie up on the lounge or something?'

Liam shrugged. ‘He grizzled whenever I went to put him down and I didn't want to wake you, so I brought him out here. I couldn't have slept on the lounge, I would have worried the whole time he'd roll off, or I would.' He shuddered at the thought. ‘The floor was fine, it's only been for an hour or so.'

Georgie sighed. ‘Well, I appreciate you coming over, I shouldn't have summoned you like that.'

‘I'm glad you did. I told you to, any time.' He considered her for a moment. ‘You look like a new woman.'

‘I feel like one,' she said, leaning back on one arm. ‘I had no idea it would be this hard. I mean, people tell you, but I don't think anything can prepare you for the relentlessness. There's just no time
out.' She paused to yawn. ‘It's the little things that are hardest. Like having a shower, or making a cup of tea, or even finishing one. I found three half-full cups of cold tea around the flat yesterday.'

‘How about I make you a cup of tea now, so you get a chance to finish it?' said Liam, lifting himself up off the floor.

Georgie seemed to come out of a reverie. ‘No, I'll be right from here.' She picked up the camera and got to her feet, replacing it on the shelf. ‘I've taken up enough of your time anyway.'

‘I wish you wouldn't say that.' Liam rubbed his forehead. Every time she started to relax around him, she'd suddenly snap out of it, like she'd been caught off guard.

‘But you'll have to be getting to work, won't you?' she asked.

‘Not on a Saturday, Georgie.'

‘Is it Saturday?'

‘It is,' he nodded, smiling faintly at her. ‘Let me make you a cup of tea. I was going to call you anyway this morning, there's something I need to talk to you about.'

He didn't wait for an answer, he just walked around to the kitchen. She heard him run the tap for the kettle as she picked up Nicholas, still sleeping contentedly on the floor. When she held him against her he began to stir and Georgie carried him over to the sofa. She wondered what Liam wanted to talk about, and it made her a little uneasy.

She was feeding Nicholas when he returned from the kitchen with a cup of tea and a glass of
water for her. He set them both down on the end table closest to Georgie and took a seat on the sofa opposite. He looked a little uneasy as well as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and clasping and unclasping his hands.

‘What is it, Liam?' Georgie asked eventually.

‘Well, yesterday,' he began, before clearing his throat. ‘Last night it was actually, in the evening . . . anyway, Anna rang me, at home.'

‘Oh.' Georgie paused. ‘How long is it since you heard from her?'

‘Months and months,' he replied. ‘I hadn't heard from her since I told her you were pregnant.'

‘That's right, you said.' She nodded vaguely, wondering what this had to do with her.

Liam breathed out. ‘Anyway, she asked if you'd had the baby, she'd worked out that he must have been due. She was a little surprised to find out he was already nearly four weeks old.'

‘How did she take the news?'

‘Okay, you know, there were a few awkward moments. But she congratulated me, asked after you . . .'

Georgie was waiting for the bombshell. She assumed one was coming by the way Liam was building this up so painstakingly.

‘So, she said she needed to see me about one or two things. Apparently she's planning to take a trip overseas, she'll be away for a while.' He paused, swallowing. ‘And, well, here's the thing, she asked if she could see the baby.'

Georgie hadn't seen that coming.

‘She said she knew it probably sounded odd, and she promised she wasn't going to do anything crazy, and it was only if you were completely comfortable with the idea.' He paused, still waiting for some kind of response from Georgie. ‘She said she just wanted to see what he looked like, that it would give her . . . oh, what did she call it . . . ?'

‘Closure?' Georgie suggested.

‘That's it, that's the word she used.' Liam nodded, watching Georgie carefully. ‘How do you feel about it?'

‘Look, it's fine with me, if that's what she thinks she needs to do,' said Georgie. ‘I only hope it won't upset her too much. But I don't have a problem with it. Whatever she needs.' She paused. ‘I think of her often, you know. I still feel bad about the way things turned out . . . so unfair,' she murmured, gazing down at Nicholas. Then she looked directly at Liam. ‘So, when does she want to do this? She's welcome to come here if she wants.'

Liam cringed slightly. ‘I don't know if that's such a good idea.'

‘Sorry, of course, she wants to see the baby, not me,' Georgie grimaced. ‘She'd hardly want to see me . . . I'm the villain of the piece.'

‘No, I assure you, Georgie, that's my part.'

Anna spotted Mac sitting on a bench near the playground, as arranged, a navy blue pram parked close beside him. Her stomach was churning, it had been all morning. She couldn't eat, she'd only managed a cup of tea. It had crossed her mind to call the meeting off, but she felt strongly that she had to do this. She couldn't even say why really. But Anna was done analysing things. She wanted to follow her instincts for a change. And this was where they had led her, to a park bench overlooking the ocean, to meet her estranged husband and his infant son.

He looked up as she approached and got to his feet, turning to face her.

‘Hi Anna,' he said, his voice trying for warmth but being outdone by trepidation.

‘Hello Mac.'

Should she kiss him, shake his hand, what? Instead they both stood there awkwardly, neither wanting to overstep the bounds of what might be acceptable to the other. Though neither had a clue what that might be.

‘You look well,' said Anna. And he did, though she had expected him to look happier somehow. The proud new father, beaming at her. But perhaps he was playing it down for her sake.

‘You do too, Anna.' He hesitated. ‘Are you well?' ‘I'm very well, thanks, Mac.'

He was standing beside the bench, the pram
behind him. Anna was glad of that. She needed a moment first.

‘So you said you're going away?' he asked.

‘That's right. I'm leaving in a couple of weeks.'

‘Where are you off to?'

‘First stop, London. After that I'll play it by ear.'

He looked intrigued. ‘Well, good for you, Anna.' She reached into her handbag and drew out a buff-coloured envelope. ‘I wanted to leave you some information I thought you may need.'

He was frowning now.

‘I know we settled the property, Mac. But when I was packing up this time, I found insurance policies in both our names, a bank account, a few other bits and pieces. The paperwork's all here, along with the name of my solicitor, in case you didn't keep it. I've spoken to him and he'll know how to contact me, so when you want to go ahead, you know, you can get in touch with him and he'll take it from there.'

‘I don't think I'm following you.'

She took a breath. ‘Mac, one of us is going to have to file for divorce eventually. I suspect it'll be you. I wanted to assure you that whenever you're ready you'll be able to go ahead, even if I'm not in the country.'

Mac looked a little dumbfounded. He didn't say anything.

Anna passed him the envelope. ‘All right then?'

‘Sure . . . thanks, Anna,' he said, finding his voice again.

And now it was time.

‘This is Nicholas, I presume?' she said, indicating the pram.

‘Ah, yes.' Mac stepped back and manoeuvred the pram around in front of the bench, in front of Anna.

She stooped down to look at the baby, and caught her breath. He was so much like Mac. She stared at him . . . this is how her baby might have looked. The baby she had been unable to picture in her mind was lying in this pram, gazing up at her with the most familiar blue-grey eyes. She hadn't been able to picture him because he was never going to be hers. He was Mac's. And the woman called Georgie was his mother.

‘He's beautiful, Mac,' she said sincerely, glancing up at him.

‘Do you . . . um, you can hold him if you want.'

‘No.' That would be too much. But she reached in and stroked the skin on his cheek, unimaginably soft. He raised one tiny arm, and when Anna put her finger in the palm of his hand, he grasped it tightly. She thought her heart had stopped beating and for a moment she was frozen, crouched there beside the pram. She felt a wave rising in her chest. Was it grief? Despair? She didn't want it to be despair. She stood up again. Mac was watching her pensively. She should say something, but she didn't trust herself. And then he reached for her hand and held it between both of his. They didn't speak, but he could see the pain, regret and loss in her eyes, and she saw the sadness and remorse in his. And some remnant of affection.

‘Anna,' he said thickly. ‘I hope you know I wish you all the best.'

‘And I hope you know I want you to be happy, Mac.' She glanced fleetingly down at the pram. ‘Don't ever forget how precious . . .' But the wave was cresting and she couldn't say any more. She pulled her hand away and turned around, walking briskly along the path without looking back.

Anna didn't know where she was headed. She was surprised she could even see the road in front of her through the tears that kept filling her eyes and streaming down her cheeks. She so didn't want this feeling to be despair. It was grief, natural, appropriate grief for the baby she had never had. Would never have. She was finally letting go. Letting it be. And she was feeling every bit of it. And she was driving. And then she was outside Vincent's house. Staring at the door. Feeling. Crossing the road. Walking to his door. Knocking. Open like a sore.

‘Anna,' Vincent exclaimed softly. She hadn't even noticed the door swing back. But now she saw his face, those intense green eyes staring down at her. ‘What is it, what's happened?'

She felt his hand on her elbow, gently drawing her inside. Anna collapsed against him, clinging to him as though he was saving her from drowning. She couldn't let go. She felt him push the door shut behind her and then his arms closed around her, holding her tight. She didn't realise till then that she was still crying, sobbing in fact. He stroked her hair, murmuring close to her ear to soothe her, gently rocking her in his arms. As her tears ebbed she
gradually became aware of his body pressed against hers, the feel of it, the warmth of it, the ocean smell of him, remembering . . . Anna raised her head slowly, bringing one hand up to touch his cheek. She drew closer, brushing her lips against his, barely. She was scared, she couldn't handle it if he rejected her, though he had every right to. She lifted her eyes to meet his, and he was gazing down at her, breathing heavily. He held her face, wiping the tears from her cheeks, before running one thumb across her lips, parting them . . . and then he was kissing her, hard, ravenously. She wrapped her arms around his neck and he lifted her off the floor. They stumbled up the hallway in a kind of frenzied promenade, moving in circular sweeps, alternately pressing each other up against the wall, their mouths never separating while their hands pulled and tugged at sleeves and buttons and zippers, grasping at bare skin, caressing, clutching each other close. They almost fell through the door into his bedroom, and with a few steps Anna arched backwards onto the bed, bringing Vincent with her. He was naked to the waist, his jeans open, sliding down his hips. She reached down and took hold of him, and he moaned. He propped his elbows either side of her head, breathing hard as he looked down at her. ‘Anna . . .'

‘Don't talk,' she said, wrapping her legs around him and pushing her pelvis hard up against his.

‘Fuck,' he gasped.

‘Yes,' she breathed into his ear.

And then he lunged inside her and Anna cried out, pulling his mouth down onto hers again as they
writhed around, thrusting wildly against each other. They didn't stop until they were both completely spent, gasping for breath. Vincent fell back on the bed beside her, panting heavily. Neither of them was able to speak for some time.

After a while Anna felt his fingers lacing through hers as he lifted her hand to his lips. She turned to look at him, and he smiled, holding her hand against his chest. ‘Hi.'

‘Hi.'

‘I missed you.'

Anna smiled. ‘Me too.'

‘How've you been?' he asked.

The wave rose up in her chest again, and she rolled over towards him, nuzzling close into his body and burying her face in his neck. She felt his arms tighten around her as he kissed her on top of the head.

‘Now you're really starting to freak me out, Anna. What's going on?'

She looked up at him, her eyes wet with tears. Vincent eased down the bed until he was level with her. ‘What is it?'

‘I just saw Mac,' she began in a small voice. ‘Mac and his new baby son.'

He stroked her hair away from her face. ‘How did that happen?'

‘I asked, I wanted to see the baby,' she sniffed. ‘Put some ghosts to rest, I suppose. But when I saw him, he looked exactly like Mac, and it occurred to me my baby might have looked like that . . .' Her voice failed.

Vincent pressed his lips firmly against her forehead, holding her close.

‘I wasn't prepared . . . it was so intense. After I walked away, I couldn't stop crying.'

‘That's grief, isn't it?'

Anna looked wide-eyed at him. ‘Do you think so?'

‘I do.'

‘I was so overwhelmed, and I thought, I don't want to be this sad, this heartbroken. I want to move on, not to feel like I'm missing something for the rest of my life.'

‘Isn't that exactly why you have to grieve?' said Vincent. ‘I thought that was pretty basic psychology.'

She nodded faintly, shifting onto her back and staring up at the ceiling. ‘He really was such a dear little baby, Vincent, you wouldn't wish him away. And I don't begrudge Mac. How can I? I wanted to give him a baby for so long, it would be churlish to resent him for having one now.'

Vincent leaned across her, kissing her soundly on the lips.

‘What was that for?' Anna asked him. ‘You are an amazing woman, Anna Gilchrist,' he said.

‘I don't know about that. I've got a long way to go yet . . . climbing down off that pedestal,' she added quietly.

He crooked his elbow, resting his head on one hand. ‘Is that why you're here?'

Anna stared up at him. ‘Oh, Vincent, I shouldn't have come here like this,' she said, struggling to sit up, pulling the sheet around herself.

‘Hold on,' he said, sitting up as well, ‘what's wrong now?'

‘Vincent, I'm sorry, I didn't mean for you to think . . .'

‘Think what?'

‘You see, it's just . . . I'm going away,' she blurted.

He looked at her. ‘What do you mean?'

‘I'm going away, overseas.'

‘For how long?'

‘Indefinitely . . .'

A frown formed on his face as he took in what she was saying.

Anna watched him. ‘I shouldn't have come here, I'm sorry, Vincent. I didn't plan it, I didn't even know where I was going until I found myself walking across the street and knocking at your door.' She paused. He still hadn't said anything. ‘I'm sorry–'

‘Hey, stop that,' he said, rousing. ‘You think I'm sorry that you're here?' He leaned towards her and kissed her gently on the lips.

Anna searched his eyes as he drew back. ‘Are you sure?'

‘I'm sure.'

She took a deep breath, bringing her knees up and hugging them. ‘I always felt safe here, Vincent. From the very first time. I don't know why.' She looked at him. ‘That's why I had to leave. I was hiding out here. I'm sorry for the way I walked out, but I think it was what I needed to do.'

He nodded slowly, leaning back against the bedhead. ‘So what have you been doing with yourself?'

‘I've been writing again, really writing, almost the entire time.'

‘Then you definitely did the right thing leaving. Are you going to let me read what you've written?'

‘I'd like that,' she smiled. ‘But it doesn't have an ending yet. I can't finish it. That's why I'm going away.'

He reached over and took hold of her hand. ‘You know, I could go with you.'

‘Come on, Vincent, you've been there, done that.'

‘So?'

‘I never have. I want to live in my own skin for a while and see what it's like, see what I'm like,' she tried to explain. ‘I've wasted so much time waiting for something to happen to make me complete.' She paused. ‘Besides, I've decided I want a happy ending.'

‘You don't think we could have a happy ending?' He raised an eyebrow.

She shook her head. ‘It couldn't end well, you and me.'

‘Why do you say that?'

‘Because you're younger, Vincent, you've never had children, and I can't give you any.'

‘Who says I want children?'

‘Maybe you don't right now. But you might one day. And I don't want to be around when you realise you do.'

‘Anna–'

‘Vincent, think about it. Can you absolutely say that one day you won't want kids, that it would never be an issue? And I don't blame you. But I can't commit to someone who hasn't thought that stuff
through. It's a huge thing. I haven't come to terms with it yet myself.'

He was watching her with that intense gaze of his. He pulled her closer, drawing her head onto his chest. ‘So when do you go?'

‘Two weeks Saturday.'

‘Then we have two weeks.'