Change of Life (47 page)

After lunch we headed into town. Kirsty and I were going shopping for shoes for me to wear at the wedding. Michael wanted to buy Scottish-themed presents for his daughters, so he went off to do that and Rick went to buy his own wedding outfit. We all met up back at the flat later.

I’d not only got shoes. I had the beginnings of a new wardrobe, new makeup – including mascara for the new improved eyelashes and - joy of joys - a bottle of shampoo. It had been true retail therapy.

By the time I said goodbye to Kirsty and Rick at the end of the afternoon, having arranged to meet Rick on Monday morning for the DNA test, I felt renewed, liberated and even optimistic. I no longer had to worry about needing to throw up. I had my appetite back. I could make plans to go out and about. I was looking forward to the next weekend. I also found that, like Robbie, I had a fatalistic attitude to the outcome of the DNA paternity test. If Rick was Robbie’s father, I’d adjust to that and if he wasn’t – well - nothing would’ve changed.

That evening, as planned, I phoned Tom. I felt nervous as I rehearsed telling him about Rick and Robbie. However, I knew it had to be done and it would be a start – a start to us finally sorting things out – one way or another. But my overriding emotion as I called home was longing. I just wanted to hear his voice.

Tom answered quickly. “Rosie, hi, it’s good to hear from you. How are you?”

“I’m good – very good. I’ve had a lovely day with Rick and Kirsty and Michael.” I chattered on about what we’d done and how well I was feeling. I knew there were other more pressing matters to discuss, but I at least wanted to start by being fairly light-hearted. Then I became aware that he was very quiet – letting me blether on and on. “Sorry, Tom – I didn’t mean to witter on. How are you? Are you feeling better?”

“Don’t apologise. I was enjoying listening to you witter.” I could hear him smile as he spoke. “And, yes, I’m getting better. I’ve stopped being sick – just a bit weak from lack of food. I might try eating something later.”

“Oh well, that’s good.”

“Yeah – if I follow the same pattern as the kids, I should be much better by mid-week – and certainly fine for the wedding.”

“
It’s
great news isn’t it – about Rick and Kirsty, I mean? They seem very happy.”

“Yes indeed, great news. And you’re going to be a bridesmaid?”

“I am, yes, though I think Lucy and I are a bit past it to be classed as such. But matron of honour just sounds horribly ancient!” I laughed.

“Well I’m acting as father of the bride – so that makes me feel rather ancient too. But I feel honoured to have been asked. Kirsty says I remind her of her late father. I think she meant it as a compliment!” Tom laughed too.

“Oh, I’m sure she did – she adored her Dad,” I said. Right – now or never, I thought. My mouth went dry. I took a deep breath. “And speaking of fathers – it seems there’s a
possibility -
or rather a probability - that Rick is Robbie’s father.”

“What, sorry – what do you mean?”

I told him. As I finished speaking, I became aware that he hadn’t said anything while I’d been telling him. “Tom, Tom
are
you okay? Are you still there?”

“Yes, yes, sorry – it’s just - it was a shock – it means - I had no idea – Christ, Rick.”

“Sorry, – it was a shock to me too at first.”

“And now, Rosie, how do you feel about it now?”

“I don’t really know what to think. I’m just going to wait to see what the result is and take it from there.”

“Doesn’t it matter to you that you might get proof that I’m not – I’m not Robbie’s father?” He asked this very gently. There was no implied reproach.

“No – not really – I think I’ve got past all that. For what it’s worth, Tom, it’s the future that matters to me now – now that I’m daring to hope I might have one. What did or didn’t happen in the past – is just that - in the past.” I could feel my voice starting to crack – this was getting dangerously emotional. Again Tom didn’t speak. I got a grip on myself. “Anyway, I also phoned to check that the kids are still intending to come tomorrow and to find out what the arrangements are for next weekend childcare wise.” I tried to get back to sounding light-hearted.

“Yes – right,” he cleared his throat. “Yes, they’re all much better and are coming to you in the afternoon. They’re looking forward to it. Adam’s got news. He’s starting college on Monday, as you know, and he’s got lots to tell you about that. But he’s also heard today he’s been offered an apprenticeship as a mechanic. That friend of Bob Sutherland, who has the garage in Granton, he’s said he can start in six months, as long as he gets on all right with the access course. He’s really excited. But he’ll tell you himself. And don’t worry about next weekend – Max is going to Dan’s – they’ve got the Hearts match to go to on Saturday – local derby against
Hibs
and they’ve got a cinema trip planned on Sunday. Jenny and Adam have got their own plans of course and they’ll be fine. Ruby and Ma are available if they need any adult input. And Ma is having Toby.”

“It’s all under control then,” I said, smiling. “How is Toby? I miss him.”

“Toby – he was ecstatic when Adam came home – so excited – it was lovely to see their reunion. He still misses you, though.”

“Maybe I’ll come and see him soon,” I said.

“He’d like that.”

Maybe neither of us was still talking about Toby.

I was aware that though we’d made a tentative arrangement to meet and talk the following week, as soon as everyone was free of the bug, neither of us had committed to a time or place.

“And, Tom, I’m looking forward to the wedding and I hope we can try and just enjoy each other’s company on the day.” The last thing I wanted to know before the wedding was that Tom was leaving me for Sheena.

“Yes, yes, of course – I’d like that too.”

“And after the wedding – maybe I could travel back with you and come to the house. We could have our postponed talk - and I could see Toby.” There was a heartbeat’s pause.

“Toby and I’d like that very much.”

The next day was as much fun as the previous one had been. I phoned Sam in the morning. She sounded very happy. She’d had her first week of lectures and tutorials and was loving university life so far. I told her about the wedding. She was thrilled at the news, and at the fact that her father and I would be in St Andrews the next weekend. She said she’d meet us at the hotel on Friday and, of course, she’d come to the wedding.

The other children came up to Edinburgh on the bus and were all in good form. Jenny was enjoying sixth year and spoke a lot about a boy called Stewart, from North Berwick, who she’d met at a party. She insisted they were just friends, but there was a definite light in her eye when she spoke about him. She said it was really romantic about Rick and Kirsty getting married – something which caused her brothers to pull faces, and to remark on the grossness of old people having anything to do with romance.

Max said he couldn’t wait for the half-term holiday in a week’s time, as school was such a bore, and that he also couldn’t wait to go to his uncle Dan’s at the weekend.

Adam told me all his news about the college and the apprenticeship and how cool Julie was. He said he was learning to drive, and that Tom was taking him out to practice and that, no, they’d not fallen out. I couldn’t get over how much he’d changed.

The children also chatted with Michael. He told them about Australia. Max wanted to know if he knew any of the Neighbours cast. He was impressed to hear that the sister of one of the actors had once been a patient of Michael’s. They asked about their cousins, and Michael asked them lots of questions about their lives. We had Chinese takeaway for dinner and, too soon, it was time for them to go. Michael was running them home. He went to fetch the car from the next street, leaving us to say our goodbyes. As the children were going out the door, I asked if their father would be at home when they got back.

“Oh yes, he should be back from
Shee
…” said Max.

“Shut up Max!” Jenny and Adam shouted together.

“Come on you!” Adam said to Max. “Bye Mum,” he said to me and led his brother away to wait for Michael.

“Sorry, Mum,” said Jenny. “I know the munchkin sort of let the cat out the bag about Dad and Sheena a few weeks back. Dad swore us to secrecy. He wants to tell you about it himself, of course. He’s hoping you’ll be pleased. It’s good to see him so happy. He doesn’t know that you know anything, so act surprised.” With that she kissed me goodbye and went to join her brothers.

I closed the door and went and sat down on my bed in the darkness. So Tom was still seeing Sheena and the children knew. They seemed very relaxed about it. Tom was happy with Sheena. I
lay
back on the bed and stared at the ceiling – numb – shut down with the shock – a sort of emotional concussion. I got up at some point and scribbled a note for Michael, saying that I was tired and had gone to bed. Then I crawled under the covers and, eventually, fell asleep.

The next morning I felt very low, but tried not to let it show. Michael said I looked tired and that he hoped I wasn’t overdoing it. He insisted that he would come with me for the DNA test appointment, and I was glad of his support. It was all over very quickly. There was paperwork to complete and a few questions to answer and then, after the mouth swab, we were back out on the street. It was good to see Robbie. He’d told his school he had a dental appointment. He had to get back, so there wasn’t much time to chat. He seemed very relaxed about the whole thing – a little shy with Rick perhaps – but that was all.

Amanda Knox called me that afternoon. She’d made an appointment for me to go and see her in a couple of weeks and said that I was to have my scan on the same day. She said she’d spoken to her colleague in radiotherapy, and that I would start my course of treatment at the beginning of November. I asked her again if she thought I was going to beat the cancer. She said there was no reason to suppose that I wouldn’t and that I was doing well up to now. Of course, this was all she could say, but it wasn’t exactly what I wanted to hear. I wanted a definite answer. I wanted her to say I would certainly recover and live to be ninety. At least she didn’t say I was doomed.

The rest of the week passed very slowly. I was looking forward to the wedding and, despite trying to be laid back about
it,
I was desperate to know the DNA results. I was desolate about what Jenny had said about Tom. But in spite of my desolation, I was still really excited about seeing him at the weekend. I fervently hoped that nothing would get in the way of us having our much needed talk after the wedding. I was more than ready now to hear Tom out. Hearing his story about Heather’s last months, and about Robbie’s birth, would be the end of an unfinished chapter in my life, but also the beginning of a new one. And if Tom was moving onto a new chapter too, I told myself I would let him go with good grace. I would get over it. I would get over the cancer and I would get over Tom leaving me. That’s what I told myself. Somehow, I got through the week.

Michael accompanied me again on the Thursday, when it was time to get the paternity test results. Kirsty was with Rick this time, and Sue and Bob came with Robbie. We met outside the test place. Everyone was nervous. There was no script for an occasion like this. As we were about to go in, my phone beeped. It was a text from Tom. It said he was thinking about me and to let him know how it went.

Rick was Robbie’s father. The doctor and the counsellor spoke, first of all, to Robbie and Rick, and then to all of us. None of us was sure what to say at first. It was always going to be a shock whatever the outcome. The counsellor was brilliant – reassuringly professional and kind. She said we would all experience many different emotions, that we should all take time to come to terms with the news and how it affected each of us. She gave us her card, in case we wanted to talk anything over at a later date, and also some leaflets about other counselling services that we could access. And that was it.

Robbie’d
found his biological father. Rick had a son of seventeen. Lucy and I shared a nephew and he would become Kirsty’s stepson. And Bob and Sue would have to share Robbie with yet more people. I’d no doubt that they would take all this in their stride and continue to be the most wonderful, loving and supportive parents to their very special son.