Hand On Heart: Sequel to Head Over Heels (3 page)

After Grace and Mark split up, they were lucky enough to secure a quick sale on their house.  Grace just wanted to see the back of it and move on as soon as she could, but there was still the trauma to get through of clearing out all their things.  She kept putting it off, but the new owners were taking possession in a fortnight, and so today was the day.

‘I don’t want it, really I don’t, Mark,’ Grace pleaded with him.  ‘You keep it.’   Mark kept offering her stuff: objects, ornaments, books, but none of it held any sentimental value to her now.

It was very strange being back at the house, and sharing the same personal space with him again, Grace thought.  So many memories had been made here, so many plans forged, but it had also been the house where everything had unravelled so quickly, and she had been so desperately unhappy.  Mark had offered to let her have the house in its entirety, but it wouldn’t have felt right, moving Tom in to take Mark’s place, surrounded by all their old furniture and possessions.  No, the two of them needed a fresh start elsewhere, and besides which, she was very conscious of making sure Mark received his share of the capital from the sale.  If it was all done as it should be now, then no one was beholden to anyone else, and there was nothing to come back and bite her at a later date.  She wanted to draw lines under her time with Mark with a big fat felt pen, not a wishy-washy pencil which could be rubbed out.

I feel nothing for him now, nothing at all,
Grace mused to herself, glancing across at him as she sorted through a box of photos. 
It’s almost as if all those years we spent here together never happened.  Which is sad in a way, as he was a huge part of my life for such a long time. 

For most of the time they had lived there, Mark had been the love of Grace’s life.  Theirs was true love, or so they’d thought, they were soul mates, together forever.  But how quickly that had turned out not to be the case, and it had made Grace question the type of person she was.  Was she the sort of woman who couldn’t stay in a relationship for more than a few years before her eyes started to wander?  She hoped to goodness that what had happened with Mark was because of who they were, both independently and together, and the fact that their relationship was flawed.  Before she met Tom, she would never have put herself down as someone who would cheat – she’d always believed that was morally wrong.   But why had it come so easily to her at the time?  She hoped it was just because Mark never really had been ‘the one’.  It bothered her, nonetheless.

Life couldn’t be better for Grace, she was ecstatically happy with Tom, and although the circumstances in which they had come together were something of which she wasn’t proud, what they had now was far stronger, far deeper than anything she had shared with Mark.  But would she end up hurting Tom as well, at some future point in time? 

No, that’s not who I am,
she thought to herself. 
Definitely not.  What happened with Mark happened for a reason; it’s all so different with Tom.

‘So, how are you feeling, Grace?’ Mark asked.  She didn’t want to engage in stilted but polite conversation as they divided up the possessions, but nor could the two of them sit in silence for the day.  Grace knelt down on the floor, the weight of the baby bump too heavy for her to stand for too long.  Her tummy was so huge, she was surprised there wasn’t a total eclipse of the sun every time she stood up.  And she still had a few months to go.  At this rate, she would be housebound by the time she reached her due date, unable to go out of the front door, because she was simply too large to pass through it.

‘Like the side of a house,’ Grace replied, determined to keep it light-hearted and not to get into any kind of deep and meaningful discussion.

‘Well, pregnancy suits, you,’ he went on.  ‘You look amazing.’  Grace could feel herself blushing.  Compliments from her ex?  During pregnancy?  It was all so wrong. Especially when she felt so un-amazing.

Mark crossed the room bearing an antique mantle clock and added it to Grace’s pile of possessions.

‘No, that one has to be yours,’ Grace said again.  ‘You bought that with your bonus one year, remember?  Keep it.  Please.’

Arguing over a clock here, a picture frame there, possessions which now held no tie for Grace, wasn’t really something that she wanted to have to deal with now.  To be honest she would have been quite happy to take just her personal effects and leave the rest for Mark.  But he had been insistent that she have her share, even if all she did was subsequently sell it on.  Maybe he felt that, because she had been so fair about splitting the proceeds from the house sale, he should treat its contents in the same way.  Quite frankly, Grace would have preferred to get the house clearance people in instead and simply be presented with a cheque at the end of the process.

‘Awww, look at this,’ Mark said dreamily, holding up a photo of the two of them that had slipped from between some books.  It showed them on holiday in the South of France, probably in the first couple of years of their relationship.  Grace was surprised to see him so sentimental, given all that had happened recently. ‘That was a gorgeous place, wasn’t it?’ Mark went on, smiling at her.  What was he playing at? 

‘I can’t do all this memory lane stuff, Mark, I’m sorry,’ Grace said, heaving herself to her feet.  She would go and sort out some things in one of the bedrooms and leave Mark to it down here.  If he wanted to wallow in the past, he would have to do it alone. 

As she passed through the hallway there was a knock at the door. 

‘Frannie!’ Grace exclaimed, letting her in.  ‘Great to see you, how are you?  How’s Gerald?’

‘Oh I’ve left him mowing the lawn.  You know how particular he is.  Likes to get it just right, and I’m only in the way.’  She smiled fondly, quite obviously still so very loved up with her new husband.  And so she should be, thought Grace.  The fact that this elderly lady had found love finally, in her old age, was still a source of immense pleasure for Grace.  It just went to show there is someone for everyone, even if you have to wait almost your entire lifetime to find them.  ‘I saw your car on the drive and thought I’d just pop over and see if you’re OK with, well, everything.’

Frannie looked so well.  Clearly married life suited her, and for someone who had never shared her living space with anyone else, she was adapting very well to the day to day trials – and rewards – of a conjugal life.  Good for her, Grace thought, pleased to see her so happy. 

‘Yes, I’m fine,’ she replied, rolling her eyes in the general direction of Mark, who stood awkwardly in the doorway.  ‘Glad you’re here, actually, Frannie,’ Grace went on, leading Frannie through to the kitchen and putting the kettle on.  She looked across at Mark, hoping he would take the hint and leave the two women alone.  He did, and disappeared out through the patio doors, off to his shed. ‘I have something I’d like to ask you.’ 

‘Oh, how exciting,’ said the old lady, settling herself down in the kitchen chair.

‘Tom and I would be honoured if you would be Godmother to one of the twins.  To our daughter, actually.  I know it’s still a while to go and all that, but I like to be organised, you know me!’

‘Oh Grace, darling, that’s so lovely of you to ask.  But why would you young things want some old battle-axe like me? God knows I might not even be around to see the little darlings born, let alone do all those Godmotherly things a Godmother’s supposed to do!’

Grace had thought she might get that reaction from Frannie, but the old lady had been a big part of her life, especially around the time she’d started having problems with Mark.  She’d been like a grandmother to her, a calming influence, and given that Frannie would never have grandchildren of her own, it would be wonderful to formally mark her inclusion in her own children’s upbringing.  She was a wise old woman, as well as having a wicked sense of humour, and Grace hoped she would be there to see her through the twins’ early years, as a minimum.  Knowing Frannie, she’d live to be a hundred and five, and be bright as a button until the day she popped her clogs.  The twins could well be grown and gone before Frannie departed this earth.

‘I’ll tell you what,’ Frannie began, ‘much as I’d simply love to be Godmother, I will do it as long as you choose two of your fit, young and healthy friends to be proper Godmothers too.  Just in case I turn up my toes someday soon, you know.  I’ll be your little baby daughter’s Fairy Godmother, how about that?  A crazy old lady in her life who will bring a bit of madness and sprinkle fairy dust on her.  Every child should have one.  I’ll have to get myself a sparkly magic wand and a tutu.  And then when she’s a bit older, I’ll teach her how to smoke pot.’   She looked to Grace for a reaction.  ‘That last bit was a joke.  The tutu wasn’t, though.  Gerald would love me in pink tulle.’

Grace laughed at Frannie’s suggestion.  To be honest, the recreational side of things – minus the drugs, of course – was more in keeping with Grace and Tom’s view of the role a Godparent should play in a child’s life.  Neither was particularly religious, but they both liked the formality of a Christening ceremony and the idea of marking and celebrating their children’s arrival into the world, and then finding some lovely friends or family members who would mean something special in their lives.  ‘Oh thank you Frannie, that’s brilliant.’  She kissed her friend on the cheek and gave her a hug.

‘Anyway, I won’t stop for that cuppa just now, Grace, my dear.  I just wanted to pop across and make sure you were alright with… well, everything, you know,’ she said, ‘but I can see you are, and what a lovely thing you have asked me, I’m truly honoured.’  She raised her eyebrows in the direction of Mark, who was now back from the shed and hovering with intent in the kitchen.  He waved an awkward ‘Hi’ back at her. 

‘I’ll leave you to it.  Better get back to that gorgeous husband of mine.  He gets a bit hot when he’s been working in the garden.  And I don’t just mean sweaty!’  She smiled, a lascivious twinkle lighting up her eyes.

‘Oh Frannie, don’t ever change,’ Grace laughed, embracing the old lady and seeing her out of the front door.

Grace lived with Tom in his flat in Worcester for a while, but with the babies on the way, they both wanted to move to one of the villages near the school, so when a tiny black and white cottage Grace had always admired came on the market, they put in an offer and secured it with relatively little hassle.  It was a perfectly clichéd little ‘chocolate box’ home with wisteria around the door and a slightly larger than postage stamp sized garden, which would be more than enough space for the twins to charge about in for the next few years, especially as they had the park opposite and fields directly behind them. 

‘Hey, put me down!  I’m too fat for this!  You’ll break your back,’ Grace screeched as Tom gallantly scooped up his hugely pregnant fiancée and carried her over the threshold.  She was amazed his knees had stood up to it.  The pair of them glanced around at their new abode and smiled.  This house they had bought together ticked all the right boxes, and it had the feel of a happy place to live. It was only a few short months since the lowest point of her life, but now Grace couldn’t be happier.  Secure in her relationship with Tom, they had the impending arrival of the twins to look forward to, followed by their wedding day.  Life couldn’t be better.

Grace was enjoying the freedom of the summer holidays; the past year had been more than a little hectic as she’d gone back to working full time once the twins started at her school.  The two days a week she’d worked whilst they were still in nursery seemed a dim and distant memory, and so easy, compared to the stresses and strains of a full week of work.  She was finding that fitting in the job during the working day was the easy part, but the juggling started when they all left for the day.  Lily and Jack were too young to stay for afterschool clubs yet, and so she was unable to stay either, to get on top of her marking and prep like she used to.  That all had to be left to the evenings, and fitted in when they had gone to bed.  And so most nights she was utterly ravaged by the routine of feeding, bathing and reading stories by the time she could get her books out and get down to work. 

It was only fair that the twins had her full attention when they came home from school; she felt guilty about not spending enough time with them anyway
–
which she knew was ludicrous really, but it was every parent’s dilemma
–
and couldn’t even bring herself to park them in front of the TV for an hour to get a little work done before she cooked their tea.  Life would be a lot easier next year when they would be allowed to stay for a couple of clubs and she would have an extra hour at the end of school.  It would make some small difference, at least.

‘You have to stop beating yourself up all the time, Grace,’ Tom had said one night, when the pressures of her mad work/life balance were proving particularly stressful.  She had collapsed in tears as they were going to bed, feeling guilty about not giving her all to either the twins or her job.  Tom thought she was doing perfectly well at both, but she wouldn’t be told, and thought he was just trying to placate her.  ‘You can’t do everything.  Look, we’re a bit better off now, aren’t we, so why don’t you increase Karina’s hours a couple of afternoons a week when we go back in September?’

Karina was the young Polish woman they had taken on to do the cleaning and a bit of ironing when the babies had been small.  She was an absolute Godsend; diligent in her cleaning and ironing duties, she had also proved herself a real hit with the twins, and they gazed at her with their big googly baby eyes as she babbled to them and tickled their tummies as they lay in their cots. Grace had hung onto her, just for a couple of hours a week, when she went back to work, to help keep the housework under control, and it seemed now that they could really do with more of her help again.  Karina would be thrilled to be asked to do some childcare, Grace was sure of it.  It was just her own conscience she needed to convince.

‘We can afford it, you’re right.  I have to learn to let go a little here.  But they’re my babies, I want to be the one to bring them up.’

‘Look, a couple of hours a week after school isn’t going to make them think Karina is their mother and not you, is it?  Even if all she does is take them to the park for an hour, then bring them back and do their tea, then you can stay on at school till you’re all done, and the time you have at home with them will be quality time, no work, and no stressing about when you’re going to get it done.’

‘I suppose you’re right,’ Grace said.  It wasn’t like she was handing them over to a nanny or anything; it would only be a few hours a week but would make such a difference to their lives.  She’d have more time to spend with Tom, too, which would be great.  He tended to go into school early and get home late, usually just in time to see Lily and Jack before they went to bed, but at least, most nights, when he did get back he had generally done everything he needed to do for the next day.

‘I am right, and don’t you forget it,’ Tom laughed, pulling her closer and stroking her hair.

‘Whatever did I do to deserve you?’ she replied, nestling in to his warm and comforting body.

‘Nothing.  I just know what makes you happy, that’s all.’

‘You’re a star, my lovely husband.’  Grace could feel some of the weight of the world lifting from her shoulders already.