The Baby Group (52 page)

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Authors: Rowan Coleman

BOOK: The Baby Group
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‘So, you haven't got a husband,' he confirmed. She shook her head. He nodded as if the news had helped him to come to some decision. Natalie just prayed it wasn't the decision to have her sectioned under the Mental Health Act. She turned back to her friends.
‘The thing is, I didn't know you then, it didn't seem important. But over the last few weeks I've got to know and love you all. I really mean that, I love you and care about you all. You have become important to me as friends, and I didn't know how to tell you what a fool I'd been. It just got harder and more stupid as time went on – every time I decided to tell you, something would happen to someone else and I'd feel like even more of an idiot. Then when Jack came back I got even more confused and muddled and it wasn't until we were all at Tiffany's, just after Tiff got Jacob breathing again, that I realised just how sad and poor I'd be without you. And if you can still bear to be my friends after all this nonsense I promise never to lie to you again, except about my age and weight which I think is more or less a given with most women over the age of thirty-five, don't you? Not that I am over the age of thirty-five . . . Anyway, you can stone me now, if you like. There's some pea shingle in the garden.'
Nobody said anything until eventually Meg asked, ‘Is that all?'
‘Um, well . . . yes,' Natalie said. ‘What more do you want?'
‘I thought you were going to tell us you were in a ménage with the electrician, your husband and this guy,' Steve said, sounding a little disappointed and oomphing as Jill elbowed him firmly in the ribs.
‘I
knew
there was something more between him and you,' Jess said. ‘Didn't I say, Meg? I said I knew. When we saw him in town that day she had this look on her face, she looked . . .' Jess caught Natalie's pleading glance and didn't say any more. ‘Oh Nat, you idiot.'
‘Does that mean you don't all hate me?' Natalie asked them.
‘We think you are really rather foolish,' Frances said. ‘But that was already apparent.'
‘How could I hate you when you've been such a dear, good friend to me?' Meg smiled at Natalie. ‘No, it was just a silly fib that didn't hurt anyone. I can't believe you didn't say something before, you silly thing. I bet you've been fretting about it all this time.'
‘I have, a bit,' Natalie said. She was feeling rather foolish but extremely relieved.
‘Well, at last,' Tiffany said, rather maternally, and when the others looked at her she added rather proudly, ‘I knew
ages
ago.'
Gary, who had been frozen by the back door, was gradually relaxing. He looked at Jack and nodded. It was a gesture of solidarity, Natalie realised. A signal that they were both men who had survived the madness of Natalie Curzon in one way or another.
‘I'll get off then,' he said, sliding open the back door. ‘See you later, Tiff. Take care, Natalie, and good luck!' Natalie gave him a little wave as he closed the door, but he didn't wave back.
‘Shall I make the tea?' Sandy said. ‘And then all of you ladies and Steve can go upstairs to the sitting room. Natalie will just have a quick word with Jack here and she'll be up in a minute, is that OK?' Natalie had never been so glad to have her mother take control of a situation. She had never been glad of it before, in fact, and hadn't had the compulsion to hide behind her mother's skirts for at least thirty years.
‘Hold on,' Jack said as everyone began to file out. They stopped and looked at him.
‘I don't know any of you actually.' He looked both scared and slightly manic. ‘But I have a declaration too. Why not?'
Natalie froze. She didn't know what he was going to say but she was sure she didn't want him to say it in front of everybody.
‘Jack,' she said. ‘Look, I'm sorry about all this . . .'
‘I have to,' he said with a determined nod. ‘I liked the way you spoke just now. You were very brave, I thought, and . . . admirable. It made me want to have a go. There's been a lot of ambiguity between us. A lot of things either half said or not said at all. And it's no good, not for you or me or Freddie. I want all your friends to know how I feel. But most of all I want you to know.'
‘Oh,' Natalie said in dismay, looking at her mother, but Sandy just smiled encouragingly at her. ‘Jack, all I'm asking is that whatever you think about me you don't let this affect you and Freddie.'
‘Natalie, be quiet and let me talk,' he interrupted her.
‘How interesting,' Frances said, taking a seat on a stool and crossing her arms. The entire baby group was listening.
‘Last year was a big year for me,' Jack began. ‘I had cancer and I met Natalie.' He took a breath and squared his shoulders. ‘I thought the most important and life-changing thing of those two events was the cancer, but I was wrong. It was meeting Natalie.' Natalie couldn't look at him – she hung her head and closed her eyes and waited for the indictment that was bound to follow. ‘Because of meeting her I now have this amazing son to get to know and be a dad to. And if that's not the most important thing that can happen to a man, then I don't know what is. But that's not all – I want you to know that I've done something much more stupid than Natalie ever has.'
‘Are you sure?' Frances asked him. He smiled and nodded.
‘Natalie, when I got back to London, to try to pick up my life again, what I didn't want to admit to myself was that – well, I came back for you. I was looking for you. Oh, I was trying hard not to. One day I even caught myself walking around Soho Square, because I remembered that you worked near there and I thought I might bump into you. I felt so stupid looking for a woman I barely knew, a woman who I was sure wouldn't want me once she knew . . . the things that you know now. I told myself I could meet hundreds of women the way I met you, so I walked up to this girl and started talking to her, I told her the things I told you. I tried to have exactly the same conversation as the one we had the day we met. I've never seen anyone look so bored before in my life. I didn't fancy her and she certainly didn't fancy me but I gave her my phone numbers anyway, I thought it was a hurdle I had to get over. I was wrong.'
‘Suze.' Natalie murmured the name to herself, as suddenly the so-called perceived anomalies in what she thought she knew about Jack fell into place.
‘I lost you. I lost you twice, once when I was too scared to show you my weaknesses, and once when I was too weak to let you know that I was scared. Scared of seeing you again. Scared of how seeing you made me feel. And when I did finally see you – you brought me to life. I tried to tell myself that our moment had passed, that we were never meant to be anything other than co-parents and friends. I said it until I almost believed it, because I didn't think I could get any luckier than I already was – a survivor and a father. I didn't think I deserved to be any luckier than that, and maybe I don't. But I don't want to be scared or weak any more, either. I have to say what I feel.'
‘Say it then!' Natalie almost shouted on an outward rush of air. She took a steadying breath. ‘Say what you feel, Jack.'
‘I will,' Jack said, looking at her. ‘It isn't over for me. I care about you more than I am able to describe. I don't want our last chance to have passed.' He took a step towards her, and the baby group looked from him to Natalie and back again in one seamless motion. ‘I want to be with you, Natalie, I want to –' He seemed frustrated as he tried to find the right words. ‘Look, I know you said you didn't want one but – I want to be your boyfriend!'
Natalie stared at him, open-mouthed.
‘Say something!' Jack exclaimed and then, ‘I'm starting to think this declaration wasn't my best plan.'
‘I . . . I just didn't expect this,' Natalie managed to say at last.
‘Look.' Jack took another step closer to her. ‘I know it would be strange and difficult. I know we'd be the weirdest dating couple in the history of dating couples, the only one with a baby before they even get to their second date . . .'
‘That
is
quite unusual,' Frances said helpfully.
‘But I don't care if it's freaky. I don't care if it's a risk and if it's complicated. Sometimes complications are exactly what we need. You are a very complicated person. And I need you.' Jack took a deep breath and shrugged. ‘You make my heart beat stronger than it ever has.'
There was a collective female sigh in the room.
‘There, I've said it, and I said it in front all of these strange and quite scary women and that bloke, because I'm less frightened of them than I am of being alone with you and you turning me down.'
‘But,' Natalie said with a tiny smile, ‘we'd be mad, wouldn't we?'
‘I would say so,' Jack agreed with a curt nod.
‘Doomed to almost certain failure?' she asked him.
‘If we always put Freddie first it might work,' Jack said urgently, taking two more steps closer to her. ‘And anyway, on paper it might look like a terrible idea but here in my heart it feels like the right thing to do. The only thing to do.' Jack paused and glanced at his captive audience. ‘Have I overplayed the corny romantic gesture part yet?'
‘Not as far as I'm concerned,' Meg said misty-eyed, her hands clasped to her chest.
‘Maybe slightly,' Frances suggested.
‘No,' Natalie said slowly, afraid to blink in case she shed a tear. ‘No, you haven't because I feel the way you do. I just had no idea, no idea at all that you felt the same. I never could have asked you, I would have been too afraid. You've been the strong one, the brave one. You're the one with guts. I want this, Jack, I want to be with you.'
‘Will you go out with me then?' Jack asked her, smiling broadly.
‘I will,' Natalie said and the two of them stood in the middle of the kitchen, in the middle of the baby group, grinning at each other.
‘Is that it?' Jess asked. ‘Aren't you going to kiss or something?'
‘Not in front of you lot we're not,' Natalie said, smiling at her. ‘And besides, we haven't even been on a second date yet.'
‘Oh, who cares about convention,' Jack said decisively, and before she could move, he had closed the last two steps between them, taken her face in his hands and was kissing her. Somewhere dimly outside the feel of his lips on hers and his fingers in her hair as she wound her arms around his neck and pulled him closer, Natalie heard all her friends laughing and cheering.
‘There's just one thing I want to know,' Jill asked. ‘Is every baby group meeting going to be like this one?'

Read on for a sneak peek at

The Memory Book

The uplifting and beautiful novel about
mothers and daughters

Prologue

Greg is looking at me; he thinks I don’t know it. I’ve been chopping onions at the kitchen counter for almost five minutes, and I can see his reflection – inside out, convex and stretched – in the chrome kettle we got as a wedding present. He’s sitting at the kitchen table, checking me out.

The first time I noticed him looking at me like this I thought I must have had something stuck in my teeth, or a cobweb in my hair, or something, because I couldn’t think of any reason my sexy young builder would be looking at me. Especially not on that day when I was dressed in old jeans and a T-shirt, with my hair scraped back into a bun, ready to paint my brand-new attic room – the room that marked the beginning of everything.

It was the end of his last day; he’d been working at the house for just over a month. It was still really hot, especially up there, even with my new Velux windows open. Covered in sweat, he climbed down the newly installed pull-down ladder. I gave him a pint glass of lemonade rattling with ice cubes, which he drank in one go, the muscles in his throat moving as he swallowed. I think I must have sighed out loud at his sheer gloriousness because he looked curiously at me. I laughed and shrugged, and he smiled and then looked at his boots. I poured him another glass of lemonade and went back to my last box – Caitlin’s things – yet another box of stuff I couldn’t bring myself to throw out and that I knew I’d be clogging up the garage with instead. It was then that I sensed him looking at me. I touched my hair, expecting to find something there, and ran my tongue over my teeth.

‘Everything OK?’ I asked him, wondering if he was trying to work out how to tell me that my bill had doubled.

‘Fine,’ he said, nodding. He was – is – a man of few words.

‘Good, and are you finished?’ I asked, still prepared for bad news.

‘Yep, all done,’ he said. ‘So . . .’

‘Oh, God, you want paying. I’m so sorry.’ I felt myself blush as I rooted around in the kitchen drawer for my cheque book, which wasn’t there – it was never where it was supposed to be. Flustered, I looked around, feeling his gaze on me as I tried to remember where I’d last had it. ‘It’s around here somewhere . . .’

‘There’s no hurry,’ he said.

‘I had it when I was paying some bills, so . . .’ I just kept wittering on, desperate, if I’m honest, for him to be gone and for me to be able to breathe out and drink the half bottle of Grigio that was waiting for me in the fridge.

‘You can pay me another time,’ he said. ‘Like maybe when you come out with me for a drink.’

‘Pardon?’ I said, stopping halfway through searching a drawer that seemed to be full only of rubber bands. I must have misheard.

‘Come out with me for a drink?’ he asked tentatively. ‘I don’t normally ask my clients out, but . . . you’re not normal.’

I laughed and it was his turn to blush.

‘That didn’t quite come out the way I thought it,’ he said, folding his arms across his chest.

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