Baby Blues and Wedding Shoes (24 page)

“I hope you’re hungry as well as the
babies,” Marcio’s voice interrupted her. Holding up the basket of
food for her perusal he continued “I think there’s a bit too much
just for a couple of tadpoles!”

The way he talked about the babies made
Helen glow inside. There was such unconscious affection, together
with the assumption that they formed part of the group. She thought
that even if Daniel had been ready for children, and had welcomed
her news, he could never have been this naturally comfortable with
the role of father. Aware her mind was drawing dangerous
conclusions from a pleasant date, Helen sought for a neutral topic
of conversation.

“When will you head back to London? Are
you going to stay and work on your novel some more?” She lowered
herself to the deck, where Marcio had laid out a woven blanket to
protect them from the hot wood.

“I’ll probably stay for a few days; go
spend some time with Mum. Luxurious as it is, the Hotel Arts isn’t
exactly home living. It took me half an hour on my first night
there to figure out how to work the lights.”

Laughing at his own ineptitude, Marcio
sat beside her and opened the picnic hamper, taking out packages of
food.

“And I guess it’ll be nice to eat a
meal without feeling as if you have to critique every grain of
rice?” Marcio had told Helen how much he hated writing job-stuff as
he called it, particularly food reviews. It seemed like the perfect
career to her, but then she guessed most things did when you looked
at them from the outside.

Marcio nodded at her statement. “What
about you? What’s in store for you when you get back to London?” As
he unwrapped the food parcels Helen’s mouth filled with saliva at
the sight of the meats and cheeses. She mentally reviewed which
ones she was allowed to eat.

“Begging for work,” she responded
without taking her eyes off the food. She looked up at him and saw
a look of compassion on his face. She frowned, not wanting to dwell
on life back in London. “I’m starting to wonder if you’re right,
that freelance is never going to pay.”

“It does for some; it just takes some
patience and a lot of hard work. Or a lucky break. You might take a
shot that becomes iconic or catches the eye of some major
publication.”

“I’ve already had my lucky break,”
Helen said, heaping food onto the paper plate Marcio placed in
front of her.

“What do you mean?”

Helen hadn’t told Marcio about the
picture of Rosa, not wanting to sound as if she were bragging. As
she explained now she felt her face growing hot as Marcio’s
expression became one of disbelief.

“Do you think I’m not a proper
photographer, because my first assignment was pure fluke?” Helen
felt hurt but could think of no other explanation for his
expression.

“No, don’t be daft.
You
took
that picture? Of all the freaky coincidences. I have that
photograph on my wall to remind me we are none of us destined to be
just one person in life.”

“Really? Are you sure it isn’t just
because Rosa looks hot?” Helen raised an eyebrow at Marcio and
thought it rather endearing when he blushed.

“That, too.”

Helen smiled, but then gave a little
sigh. “I still say it was luck. I haven’t taken anything half as
good since.”

“Don’t be too hard on yourself, I had a
sneaky peak at your pictures, some of them are very striking.”
Marcio settled back, chewing his food thoughtfully.

Helen sighed again.

“That’s not the normal response to good
feedback!” Marcio teased her, “You’re meant to be pleased, or at
least receive the compliment gracefully.”

“Sorry, of course it’s lovely you think
that. I miss my job, that’s all.” She took a bite of food and
pondered on the melancholy feelings. “I never thought I’d say it,
but there is something to be said for the predictability of working
nine-to-five. Not to mention maternity leave and a guaranteed
income when you’re ready to get back to the grindstone.”

“So why not try and get your old job
back? What did you do before his highness decreed you should wait
on him hand and foot?”

Helen chuckled at the portrait of
Daniel. “I was an executive assistant.” She saw Marcio’s bewildered
expression and giggled. “That’s a secretary to you. A good one.
That’s how I met Daniel; we worked in the same office, though
thankfully I wasn’t his assistant. That would have been just too
corny.”

“There must be other companies in the
city that need good
executive assistants
,” he rolled the
words round his mouth experimentally before popping in an
olive.

“There are, of course, but it’s such an
incestuous world. Everyone knows someone who knows someone. I would
never be sure whether people were gossiping about me behind my
back, especially being pregnant.” Helen nodded as Marcio offered
her a glass of sparkling water, gratefully taking the plastic cup
from him and sipping the chilled liquid.

“So, let them gossip, what’s the worst
that can happen?”

Helen laughed, glad of the sun to warm
the chill that rose up when she thought about work, about her last
lunch with Marie.

“Have you ever worked in an office?
Unless you have iron skin it’s hard not to care what people are
saying, particularly because they have a tendency to judge your
work ability by what they heard about you on the grapevine.” She
laughed, as she remembered something. “I’ve had colleagues who
judged ability on whether a person took time to straighten their
hair in the morning. Can you imagine working in that environment
with twins? I’ll probably be lucky if I manage to shower once a
week.”

“Sounds like you’re best out of it.
What about outside the city? You could always look a bit further
afield. The world doesn’t stop at the M25 you know!”

“Oh I know, but who would hire me
anyway?” She put on her best PA voice, “Hello, I’m Helen, lovely to
meet you. Yes I’d love to work for you, but I’m about to have twins
and go on maternity leave for at least half a year, is that okay?”
She took another sip of water and hoped that Marcio would change
the conversation. It didn’t seem right to spoil such a gorgeous day
thinking about it all.

“Surely they’re not allowed to
discriminate against that?”

“Oh, I don’t know, probably not, but it
wouldn’t be hard to find another reason to choose someone else
would it? It’s not exactly rocket science; the kind of skills
people are looking for are hard to quantify. Easy to claim I’m not
the best candidate for the job.”

Marcio settled back on the deck and put
his hands behind his head, staring up at the white sails billowing
in the offshore breeze. “Maybe the twins will be so photogenic
you’ll be able to hire them out for commercials, then they can pay
their own way.”

Helen followed Marcio’s example, lying
on her side and propping her head up on one arm. She surveyed his
profile silently, feeling content for the first time in a long
time. It was a feeling she could get used to.

“What about you?” She said eventually.
“Do you ever tire of wondering where the next paycheque is coming
from?”

“Only until I clear my debts.” He
turned his head to look at Helen. “Aborting a wedding with all the
guests already sat in the church leaves a lot of bills.”

“I expect there are quite a few bills
from my aborted wedding too. I do hope Daniel isn’t expecting me to
pay for them? Surely Mia should be picking up the tab?”

“I haven’t had the inclination to ask
her. To be honest, until our chat the other night, I couldn’t even
imagine going within a hundred yards of her. But you made me see it
in a different light and now I don’t want to burden her new life
with worries about how to pay off the old one.”

“Very noble,” Helen commented, “if a
bit stupid.” She let the laughter in her voice soften her words.
“So, when you’ve cleared the debts, what then?”

“Who knows? I had planned to move back
here with Mia, finish renovating this baby,” he caressed the deck
lovingly, “then maybe run charters when I wasn’t writing. Now, the
future’s wide open.”

He rolled onto his side to face her,
mirroring her posture, and reached out with his free hand to brush
some hair away from her face.

“The future’s looking a whole lot
brighter,” he said huskily, stroking her cheek. He cupped his hand
around her neck and pulled her face gently towards his. “As long as
you’re in it, the future can be whatever it wants to be.”

He brushed her lips with his and, when
she didn’t pull away, kissed her soft and deep, the fingers
entwined in her copper locks saying louder than words that he never
wanted to let her go.

Chapter
Eleven

Helen woke some time later, with the sun
well past midday. She sat up with a start and looked at her watch.
Reaching over to shake the sleeping form next to her, she hissed,
“Marcio, Marcio, it’s past three. My flight’s at six.”

Marcio stretched languidly, his naked
chest inviting Helen like a freshly made bed. Slowly pulling his
t-shirt over his tousled hair, his muffled voice came through the
cotton. “I can’t believe we fell asleep!”

Helen couldn’t believe it either. It
wasn’t even as if they’d made love, although she felt they both
would have succumbed had the other suggested it. Instead they’d
kissed for a long time before wrapping each other close in a
comforting embrace. The rich food and warm sun had done the rest.
Looking above her head at the sail that Marcio had unfurled, even
though they were at anchor, she was grateful for its protection
from the sun’s rays, otherwise she’d be lobster red by now..

Eventually Marcio was on his feet and
reaching down to pull her upright. “Don’t worry, we’ll get you to
the airport for your flight.”

“Are you always this relaxed?” Helen
looked nervously at her watch again. She couldn’t afford to stay
another night at the hotel and wasn’t ready to consider alternative
sleeping arrangements just yet.

“I am when I’ve had such a relaxing
afternoon,” he brushed her hair away from her face, dropped a quick
kiss on her swollen lips, before striding to the helm to take them
back to the harbour.

It turned out
Marisol
could move
quite quickly when the need arose and they were soon packed into
Marcio’s car and heading for the airport.

The atmosphere in the car was again
tense, but this time it wasn’t through awkwardness but reserve.
Neither wanted to broach what happened next. Even though they both
lived in London most of the time, it was one thing to have a fling
in Spain, another to start a relationship in the city, where their
respective histories would seem more of a barrier.

Marcio knew without a doubt, however,
that he wanted to see Helen again and soon.

“Can I call you?” he asked, just as
Helen was about to speak.

“Yes, of course.” She searched through
her bag for a pen and something to write on. Scribbling furiously
she wrote her phone number and email address. She was about to add
her home address too but didn’t want to come across as too forward.
She tucked the paper into his shirt pocket.

“When will you be back in London?”
Helen couldn’t quite get the longing out of her voice.

“Sooner than when you asked me last
time.” He rubbed her knee without taking his eyes from the busy
street ahead. “I’ll call you as soon as I get back. I won’t try and
call from the vineyard, the line is unreliable and it’s very hard
to make conversation. But I’ll be back in a few days.”

Helen looked out the window as Marcio
negotiated the turn into the airport. All too soon they were parked
outside Departures and Marcio was unloading her bag from the boot
of his car.

“I’d love to come in and wait with
you,” he murmured into her ear as they embraced as best they could
around her bump, “but mother will be expecting me for dinner.” He
knew it was an excuse to mask the fact that he couldn’t bear to
watch her leave.

“It’s fine, there isn’t long before
take-off. Give my regards to your family.”

Marcio stroked her hair and kissed the
soft skin under her ear. She shivered and felt a weakness in her
knees that had no right to be there. Holding tight and burying
herself in his warmth, Helen wasn’t sure how she would find the
strength to let go. She hadn’t realised how lonely she had been
before, until now when she felt cared for again. It was a sensation
she didn’t want to lose a second time. Then one of the babies
kicked hard and Marcio broke off, laughing.

“Ow! Okay I take a hint.” He addressed
the bump, as he ran his hand over the surface and was rewarded with
another kick.

“You two take care of your mummy,
okay?”

He looked up to see Helen trying to
smile. He wasn’t sure how to respond, so he stroked her face
gently. “I’ll see you all soon.” With that he turned abruptly and
got back into his car. Another vehicle was waiting impatiently to
take his parking space, so he gave a swift wave and was gone.

Helen stood watching the car weave its
way through the departing traffic. Her mind swam in a sea of
unidentified emotions. Another kick from one of her babies brought
her back to the present and the urgent need to get checked in for
her flight. Time enough to analyse what she was feeling when she
was safely on board the aircraft.

Once he was free of traffic and on the
main road out of the airport, Marcio took the paper from his top
pocket and quickly contemplated the two pieces of information that
were now the only things connecting him to Helen. Her email address
looked to be some sort of nickname followed by numbers. He wondered
idly if she had changed it to something obscure to stop Daniel
finding her, or if it were merely a remnant of her student days. It
wasn't great for a freelancer; he could see she might need some
friendly advice on that front.