Written in the Stars (25 page)

I look away. I’ve spent years dreaming of a moment like this, but now it’s real, I’m terrified of what might happen if I see Kieran again. In theory, this should be it. I have my closure. He’s told me why he didn’t come back, he’s said he never blamed me, and done it in such a way that he might even have finally convinced me. And yet I know I can’t say no to him. Am I being drawn back to him because our twenty-something selves were right? We
are
meant to be?

‘I’ll call you,’ I say and I turn away from him and open the camper van door. The air is still balmy, despite it being so late. I must be too, to consider seeing him again. I look back at him leaning over the passenger seat, one arm stretched over the steering wheel. I’m trying not to notice how his tan sets off his eyes in the dark, how plump his lips are, how sinewy the muscles on his bare arms. It takes me all my strength to simply smile and turn to get out. But before I can he jumps out of the van and runs around to my door.

I stumble a little in my hurry and he catches me, his arms strong as they slip around my waist. There is a pause, a beat, a spark when it feels like we are being drawn together by a magnetic force. I find myself touching his cheek, I close my eyes and it feels like I’m twenty-two again and I’ve just met him at a beach party and he’s brought me home and I’m standing here, desperate for him to kiss me – but utterly petrified at the same time. I remove my hand quickly as if I’ve been burned and open my eyes in time to see him lower his face to mine but I pull away just before our lips meet.

I’ve waited years for this moment, but suddenly it feels too soon.

I brush past him. He calls out, a hint of desperation in his voice this time. ‘Bea, please, can I see you again soon?’

I turn and smile at him. ‘Goodbye, Kieran.’

He presses his fingers to his lips and then brushes them lightly over mine. ‘It’s not goodbye, Bea. Because that means going away and I promise you, I’m not going anywhere this time . . .’

I walk away backwards, unable to unlock my eyes from his. Then, when there is enough distance between us, I turn and run towards my childhood home, my feet pounding the gravel and an intense burning sensation rippling through my body, feeling more alive than I have for years. I get to the front door and put my key in the lock. As I turn it, I glance round and see him leaning against his camper van, silhouetted by the light of the moon and the stars.

Chapter 36

The light from the computer is casting an eerie blue glow across the room matching the violet hue of dawn. Loni is asleep, or out – I’m not sure which. All I know is the house was dark when I got back and I was relieved. The last thing I needed was the third degree from her. Kieran is my secret for now.

I wasn’t able to sleep. I lay awake for hours; my brain was wired, my heart pounding, my head full of thoughts, reliving the day I’d just had. At 5 a.m. I finally gave up tossing and turning and crept downstairs to make myself a cup of tea, tidy up the bombsite in the kitchen and check my emails on Loni’s computer.

Obviously I’ve found myself looking on Facebook. Again. I’m just about to write a little cryptic status update when I spot a new update from Milly:

Milly Singh has got some BIG news. Huge, in fact.
1 hour ago, New York.
27 likes.

I comment immediately:

Bea Bishop: OK, OK, you can’t post something like that on Facebook and not expect this . . . SKYPE CALL IMMEDIATELY!
Milly Singh: Dialling you now! X

I reread Milly’s status update as I wait for my best friend to appear before me. Has she been promoted? Has she got a new apartment? Is she coming
home
? The last is wishful thinking. I have been trying not to dwell on how much I miss her. Milly and Jay leaving has felt like the last link to my old life with Adam has been completely severed.

I find myself getting distracted waiting for Milly to call and the unbearably slow Wifi. I stack four old, dirty coffee mugs, turning up my nose as I do so at all the mess whilst also trying not to look at the Post-it notes on Loni’s computer that say ‘Sex for the Over-Sixties – book eleven title?’ And ‘How to Get Old Without Acting It’. She also has her favourite Buddhist life mottoes stuck to the pin board directly behind the screen. ‘To dare is to lose one’s footing. Not to dare is to lose oneself.’ I stare at it for a moment. It seems horribly appropriate given Kieran’s observation on our date yesterday. No, not date. A casual meeting . . . Anyway, whatever it was, he was right. I have been so risk-resistant, so unwilling to do anything remotely daring, to stand on the edge, to risk failure, or worse, falling, that I’ve completely lost sight of who I am and what I really want. I feel like I have sleepwalked through the last eight years, guided with my eyes closed and my instincts switched off by people who were fully engaged with life. First Loni and Cal, then Milly and finally, Adam. I knew it was happening, of course. I welcomed it, in fact. But that doesn’t mean it always felt right.

It took Kieran showing up on my wedding day to make me turn my back on my safe, secure life, my risk-proof future, and find the courage to be myself. To make my own choices.

I smile to myself as I cast my mind back over the last twelve hours. Strangely, seeing Kieran has made me finally make peace with what I did to Adam almost four months ago. Marrying him would only have ended in disaster. I wish I’d seen it before we got to the church, but better late than never, I guess.

A loud ringing emanates from the computer telling me Milly is making contact. I feel nervous as I press accept call. I realise I haven’t spoken to her properly since she moved. Somehow we haven’t yet got in synch with the time difference. Whenever I phone her, she seems to be otherwise engaged and the one time we have talked, it was a three-way conversation with her and Jay – against a backdrop of a dinner party they were throwing for Jay’s new colleagues at their swanky Manhattan loft. As a result, since she’s been gone she hasn’t just felt far away geographically, but emotionally too.

It sounds childish but it’s felt like she’s been keeping her new life a secret from me . . .

I gasp and put my hand over my mouth as a surprising, beautiful image fills my screen. Not of Milly’s face, but her bare belly. She is standing sideways and all I can see is a tiny bump, the merest hint of a protrusion on her slender frame.

‘MILLY!’ I scream, watching my face drop with shock. ‘Oh my GOD! You’re PREGNANT!’ Her grinning face appears now, she’s nodding and I’m crying. I’m just not sure whether it’s happiness for her, or sadness for me. I knew our dream of sharing this next stage of our lives was over when I walked away from Adam. But this is the confirmation of just how different our lives are now.

‘Oh, Milly,’ I sob and then I add, ‘I’m so HAPPY for you! You’re going to be a
mum
!’

‘I think you’ll find it’s
mom
over here,’ she says wryly, executing a perfect New York accent. I notice that she looks exhausted. Hang on, what time is it over there? I quickly work it out. 6 a.m. here is . . . God, it’s 1 a.m.

‘Hey, shouldn’t you be in bed? It’s the middle of the night over there, isn’t it?’

‘No rest for the wicked,’ she says wearily. ‘I’ve just got in from work.’

‘But you shouldn’t be working so hard in your condition, Mills!’

‘You sound like Jay! I’m pregnant, not an invalid,’ she snaps and then rubs her forehead. ‘Sorry, sorry, I’m just tired. And hormonal. Turns out I’m definitely
not
one of those women who has loads of energy and glows throughout pregnancy. I feel like shit, in fact.’

‘You’ll start feeling better soon. Everyone says the first few weeks are the hardest. You’ll soon get that Milly Singh spring back in your step again when you hit the second trimester . . .’

‘Maybe.’ She looks down, away from the camera. ‘Look, I know I should have told you this sooner and I’m sorry I didn’t, but there never seemed to be a good time . . . what with . . . you know, everything that’s happened.’

She doesn’t need to say ‘With you and Adam’. I know that’s what she means.

‘But I’m
in
my second trimester, Bea.’ She looks at me with a mixture of nerves and defiance. ‘I’m nearly sixteen weeks . . .’

I quickly do the maths in my head and then gasp again. ‘That’s nearly four months! So h-how? WHEN?’ I’m struggling to let this all sink in. Not only is Milly pregnant, but she’s been pregnant for months and not told me? I know she said she didn’t feel there was a good time . . . but what did she think I’d do? Have I been such a bad friend, so selfish and obsessed with my troubles that I was
living
with her and still managed not to notice one of the biggest changes of her life? I let my mind rewind and I suddenly recall her uncharacteristically shovelling leftovers into her mouth, turning down top-ups of wine, then there was the comment at her party about how Jay might one day be the main breadwinner. What else have I missed, what else has been happening around me while I’ve been so wrapped up in myself?

I think of how Loni and Cal have been begging me to come home. I think of how tired Cal looks and how worried he’s been about Loni. And I resolve to start being more present in their lives. I’ve been so focused on my world that I’ve missed the changing seasons of theirs.

Milly smiles sadly, she seems embarrassed somehow. ‘Well, I’m pretty sure I don’t have to explain to you how, but as for when . . . well, um, it was your wedding night, I think. I didn’t tell you earlier because I thought it would upset you . . .’

‘Upset me?’ I pause for a moment. Perhaps a beat too long but only because I need time to process this news. I’m happy for her and Jay, I really am. ‘Milly, of course I’m not upset,’ I reply at last. I try and think of something to say to make it sound more convincing. Not for the first time, I wish she was here so I could talk to her face to face. I’m worried my happiness is being lost through the computer screen.

‘I’m so happy for y—’

‘Are you sure?’ she interrupts uncertainly.

‘Yes!’

‘Sorry,’ we say in unison. ‘You go,’ she says, waving her hand.

‘No, you.’

We laugh uncomfortably and I break the awkward moment.

‘I mean, at least this means something good has come out of this whole sorry mess!’ I catch sight of my face again and I can see how unnatural and strained it looks. ‘Just think, maybe if I
had
married Adam you wouldn’t be pregnant!’ I force out a little laugh.

‘I’m pretty sure it would have happened on your wedding night anyway. We’d have been so full of happiness – and champagne – it would have been a given!’ Milly smiles. ‘But in this case, I think we were so shocked by what had happened we needed to reassure ourselves that everything was OK with us. We’d spent all afternoon and evening comforting Adam in your bridal suite; it was stressful and emotional, and when we finally got back to our room we just . . . well. I don’t need to say what we did.’ She looks down at her tummy.

I nod. Milly had often complained that she and Jay got back so late from work and were so knackered that sex had fallen low on their agenda. She’d never doubted the strength of their marriage, but I’m sure what I did would have made her feel insecure. Adam and I met at the same time as they did – the four of us have always been each other’s relationship barometer. Milly always said she loved how little pressure Adam and I put on our relationship, how easy and slow it was. Whereas I admired how certain she and Jay were about each other. How they wanted to settle down immediately. Get married and now, have a family . . .

I feel a wave of sadness at the thought of the baby Adam and I will never have. And then I have a word with myself. This isn’t about me. It’s Milly’s moment.

‘Do you have a picture? You know, a scan, of your baby?’ I ask. She nods and smiles and pulls one out. And there it is. I lean forward to get closer to the screen. I can’t believe I’m looking at Milly’s baby. It is wonderful – and I’m crying with joy for her, and yet it also feels like yet another line she has crossed, like we’re in two different worlds.

‘It doesn’t really look like a baby. More like a freaky little gremlin,’ she says. But her voice is bursting with a pride that belies her words. ‘I’ve actually got something else to tell you, Bea.’

‘Is it twins?’ I joke. ‘You can’t possibly have two in there. I get a bigger bump after eating my dinner than you have right now.’

Milly doesn’t laugh. ‘It’s got nothing to do with the baby. It’s – well, it’s Adam. He’s here at the moment. He’s actually been staying with us for a while. He’s taken a New York stopover during his travels.’

‘Oh,’ I reply quietly. For a moment I imagine it is Adam and I out there together, married and on a transatlantic mini break. We’d probably go out every few months to see them . . . maybe book a holiday together in the Hamptons next year or take a US road trip together. In this version of my life, I wouldn’t have lost the two – three including Jay – best friends I’ve ever had. A different choice, but the question is would it have been a better life?

And then another thought occurs to me. ‘Is he there, in the flat right now? While I’m talking to you?’

‘What?’ she exclaims. ‘GOD, no! I wouldn’t do that! What do you take me for? Look,’ she sighs. ‘I didn’t want to tell you because I knew you’d feel left out. And I didn’t NOT want to tell you because I don’t want us having secrets, but with the baby and everything . . .’

Then it hits me that Adam will have known about Milly’s pregnancy before me. And this thought fills me with unprecedented sorrow. I mean, in what freakish universe does Adam know that my best friend is pregnant before I do?

I pick at some invisible fluff on my pyjamas as I try to think of something to say to Milly. It never occurred to me when I split up with Adam that I might lose my best friend too. But now I can see it all unfolding in front of my eyes. The three of them together, in New York, maybe they all go out to a bar and a cool restaurant, Milly brings a female colleague as ‘company’ for Adam. Or Jay does.