‘Two smoothies coming up,’ she said lightly. Chopping the fruit, she wondered how long his family were going to hang around before they left them in peace so they could go back to bed and carry on where they’d left off…
It was a glorious few days.
Fran absconded from the farm, taking Mike to get his cast changed again and his stitches removed. The skin had healed well, and the swelling had subsided a lot, so they put on a lightweight walking cast and told him to start bearing weight.
Which meant they could do more, and so they did. They drove down to Penhally and had lunch in the Smugglers, then sat on the harbour wall in the sunshine and watched the children crabbing off the jetty, and then they went home
and went back to bed and made love until the racket in the kitchen told them that milking was over and Joe was returning Brodie to them.
She pulled on her clothes and went down, Mike following her a few moments later when he’d dressed himself more slowly, and if the family was studiously avoiding looking at them, she didn’t care, because she’d got her husband back, the man she’d loved for years and thought she’d lost, and she wasn’t going to be ashamed of spending time with him in their own home.
Even if it was the afternoon!
‘Can you guys manage without us for a day or so?’ Mike asked, coming up behind her and wrapping his arms round her, the declaration so blatant they couldn’t fail to understand it.
In unison they chorused, ‘Of course!’
‘Going anywhere nice?’ Sarah asked.
Joe started to say something and got her elbow in the ribs for his pains, and Joy and Russell just looked at each other and smiled.
‘We might take a run down to Falmouth if the weather stays fair,’ Mike said. ‘Don’t really know. We haven’t made any plans, but as I can’t really do anything and Fran hasn’t had a holiday for ages, we thought we might just take off for a night or so. Could you hang on to Brodie till Sunday?’
‘Sure.’ Joe nodded. ‘Got a hotel in mind?’
Fran felt Mike shrug. ‘No plans. We’ll see where the road takes us.’
In the end they found a fabulous hotel right on the clifftop with spectacular views of the rugged Cornish coast, and booked in for two nights, taking advantage of
a late cancellation, and spent most of the day in bed, making love slowly and lazily, getting to know each other again—and talking.
Talking like they’d never talked before, talking about anything and everything.
Everything except the whole baby thing. That was taboo, a sort of tacit avoidance, because at the end of the day all that really mattered was that they loved each other. Anything else was just the icing on the cake.
And then, relaxed and comfortable with each other, closer than they’d ever been, they went home because Sophie was coming, and Mike broke the taboo.
‘Will you be OK?’ he asked, and she smiled, realising with surprise that she would.
‘I’ll be fine,’ she told him. ‘And I’m looking forward to seeing her again.’
Sophie was fizzing with excitement, of course, because Kirsten and Andrew had told her about the baby and she was utterly obsessed with the prospect. She talked about it non-stop, her holiday hardly getting a mention, and Fran thought it was just as well she was OK with it, because if this had happened before she and Mike had spent the last few days together in their glorious idyll, it would have been intolerable.
But then Sophie snuggled up to her that evening, her restless little body finally still, and said, ‘I wish you could have a baby too, ‘cos then I could have a baby in
both
my homes!’
It was the ‘homes’ that did it for Fran. The fact that Sophie still considered this to be her home, even though she and
her mother had moved out of it years ago and she now had another home, nearly moved Fran to tears. She hugged the little girl tighter, looking up and meeting Mike’s eyes and giving him a supporting smile, because his mouth had pressed together and his eyes were over-bright.
‘That would be nice, wouldn’t it, Mike?’ she said. ‘We’ll have to think about it.’
‘Maybe one day, sweetheart,’ he said softly, looking at Sophie, but Fran felt his words were for her. ‘And, anyway, you might like coming here and having a bit of peace at night without the baby crying,’ he added, this time definitely to his daughter, and her nose wrinkled.
‘Babies do cry a lot, don’t they? And they smell. Suzie’s mum’s got a baby and she had to change his nappy the other day when I was there and it was
really
smelly!’
Fran chuckled and hugged her again, then stood up. ‘Come on, young lady, it’s time for bed.’
‘Oh, do I have to? I haven’t seen you for
ages
!’
‘It’s only two days longer than usual, so don’t give us that rubbish,’ Mike said with a laugh, standing up and scooping his daughter off the sofa and throwing her over his shoulder. He winced as his ribs twinged, but Fran handed him the crutch he was using as a stick and he hobbled out of the room, Sophie draped over his shoulder and giggling.
‘Mike, are you sure you’re OK to put her to bed, or do you want me to do it?’ Fran asked as he limped away.
‘I can do it. I’m fine,’ he assured her. Sliding Sophie down to the floor at the bottom of the stairs, he clapped his hands behind her and chased her up. She won easily, because he still found the stairs hard, but she heard him stumping along the landing, a great roar and a little shriek
echoing back down the stairs, and Fran hoped he wasn’t doing too much for his ankle.
Whatever, she thought. He was a grown man, he knew if it hurt or not and she wasn’t his mother. He had one of those already, making more than enough fuss over him, so she really didn’t need to join in.
She went into the kitchen and made them some fennel tea, letting it brew while she loaded the dishwasher, and by the time she’d finished he was down. ‘All tucked up?’
‘Mmm.’ He came up behind her, put his arms round her and sniffed. ‘Smells interesting.’
‘Fennel tea,’ she said, turning her head to look at him, and his eyes narrowed suspiciously.
‘Really?’
‘Really. Try it, it’s really refreshing.’
He looked doubtful, but then his eyes twinkled mischievously. ‘One condition.’
‘What’s that?’
‘I get a reward for drinking it.’
‘Such as?’
He smiled lazily. ‘Oh—I’m sure you can work it out.’ He bent his head and brushed a feather-soft kiss over her shoulder, trailing his lips up the side of her neck and nibbling her ear with his lips.
‘Michael Trevellyan, behave,’ she said, giggling and swatting him away, but her knees were like jelly and her heart was pounding and she could feel her body responding to his instantly.
‘I don’t want to,’ he said, suddenly serious. ‘I’ve missed this, Fran. It’s been too long. Come here.’
And he turned her into his arms, stepped forwards so he
trapped her between the cupboards and his long, hard body and, wedging his thigh between hers, he took her mouth in a kiss that surely would have set the kitchen on fire if the phone hadn’t rung to interrupt them.
‘Rats,’ he said mildly, easing away from her, his eyes blazing with promise. ‘Remember where we got to.’ And he picked up the phone. ‘Trevellyan.’
He winked at her, then said, ‘Sure. That’ll be fine. I’ll have Sophie with me, but she’s no trouble.’ His eyes flicked to Fran’s, his gaze assessing, the mischief gone, and he said, ‘That would be lovely. Thanks. I’ll check with Fran and get back to you if there’s a problem. See you tomorrow—two? Fine.’
He put the phone down. ‘That was Ben Carter,’ he said, and she thought his voice sounded a little wary. ‘He’s got a couple of days off, and they’ve invited us for a barbeque tomorrow. He wants to look over the land with me, show me where he’s talking about so I can discuss it with Joe later.’
And, of course, the baby would be there. ‘That’s nice,’ she said, summoning a smile, and it was, of course. It would be lovely. Annabel was gorgeous, and she couldn’t isolate herself from everyone just in case she ever encountered a baby. She taught the reception class of a primary school, for heaven’s sake! She was surrounded by babies and toddlers and pregnant women at every turn.
And just because, for now at least, she wasn’t able to join them, it didn’t mean she wanted to avoid them.
‘You really OK with it?’
She smiled again, a bit more convincingly. ‘Yes, Mike. I’m OK with it. It’ll be lovely. Stop worrying. I can cope—I have to. And Sophie will be in her element. She’ll be able
to tell Lucy all about the new baby that’s coming and practise on Annabel. Why don’t you ring them back and say yes? I’ll make a salad and we can take some steaks and burgers from the farm shop. It’ll be fun.’
And if she told herself that enough times, maybe she’d believe it…
I
T WAS
an absolutely gorgeous day, and Sophie was up with the larks, bursting into their bedroom and clambering onto the bed, effectively putting an end to their early-morning cuddle.
Especially as the dog came too, trampling all over them and lashing Mike with her tongue.
Fran ducked under the bedclothes with a little shriek, Mike yelled at Brodie and told her to get down, then he must have grabbed Sophie because she started to giggle hysterically.
‘No, no, stop!’ she screamed, then there was a yelp from Mike, and Fran emerged from the bedclothes to find him sitting up and holding his ribs, his mouth open as he gasped with pain.
‘I only tickled him back,’ Sophie said, her eyes flooding with tears, and Mike reached out and tucked her under his right arm, well away from the damaged ribs, and kissed the top of her head as she burrowed into him, sobbing heartbrokenly.
‘It’s OK, sweetheart, don’t cry, I’m fine,’ he said softly. ‘It wasn’t you, it was because I jumped. You didn’t hurt me.’
Her head came out from his side and she stared up at him soulfully. ‘Are you sure?’
‘I’m sure. Come here.’
So she snuggled back into his side and, reaching out her hand, caught hold of Fran and tugged her over, pulling her into the cuddle, too.
‘That’s better,’ she said, and for a few minutes they all lay there quietly until Sophie’s natural ebullience returned. ‘So—what are we going to do today? Can we go to the beach?’
‘Not while your dad’s got his cast on,’ Fran said, saving him from having to tell her. ‘Anyway, we’re doing something much more exciting. We’re going to see Ben and Lucy Carter, just down the road at Tregorran House, and they’ve got a little baby girl called Annabel. I expect you’ll be able to play with her.’
Sophie wriggled round and looked up at Fran, eyes sparkling. ‘Is she very new?’
‘Not very. She was born on Christmas Eve, but she’s still pretty tiny. She can’t do a lot, but you can play peep-bo with her and teach her how to play with her toys, I expect.’
‘Can I hold her?’
‘I don’t know. Maybe.’
‘That means no,’ Sophie said with an exaggerated sigh.
‘No, it means maybe,’ Fran reiterated, ‘and it depends on Lucy.’
‘That’s not till this afternoon, though,’ Mike put in, ‘so what do you want to do this morning?’
‘Go riding,’ Sophie said promptly. ‘Can I? Please? Mummy said you might let me.’
Mike met Fran’s eyes. ‘Got any other plans?’
She shook her head. ‘No. I’ve got things to do here, like
picking up the eggs and mucking out the chickens, and they might need a hand in the farm shop, but if I get up early and get on with it—since I already seem to be awake,’ she added, wriggling her fingers into Sophie’s ribs and making her giggle, ‘I might as well get on. Why don’t you two have a bit of a rest and make some breakfast for me? And by the time you’ve done that, I’ll have finished with the chickens. And I’ll take Brodie with me, she could do with a bit of a run. It might be late enough then to ring the stables and see if they can fit you in.’
They could, and they set off at a quarter to eleven, Sophie fizzing with excitement. They turned into the stableyard and pulled up, and she was out of the door and hopping from foot to foot with impatience while Mike sorted out his crutches.
‘Come on, you, hold my hand and let’s go and find Georgina,’ Fran said to her, and Sophie slipped her hand into Fran’s and all but dragged her over to where a few fat little ponies were tied up to a rail by the stables. Children were milling around them, brushing and fussing over them, and the ponies stood patiently and tolerated it with what Fran felt was very good grace.
‘Hi, Sophie, haven’t seen you for a while,’ Georgina Somers said, coming over and smiling at them. ‘You’re looking well, unlike your dad—he’s been in the wars, hasn’t he?’
‘He broke his leg,’ Sophie said, a little unnecessarily as Mike hobbled towards them in his cast, leaning heavily on one crutch and grinning.
‘Really?’ Georgina teased, then flashed a smile at Mike which might have made Fran jealous if she hadn’t been
loved so very thoroughly by him the night before. ‘The wounded soldier. I heard about your accident. Good to see you up and about.’
‘Good to be up and about. They gave me a walking cast the other day—it’s so much better, but I must say I’m a bit scared about my toes. I’m used to steel toecaps, and I feel a bit vulnerable.’
‘Mmm. I did when I broke my leg. Right, Sophie, let’s get you a hat sorted out and then pop you up on your pony. You’re riding Bracken today.’
‘Oh, goody, I love Bracken! He’s really nice.’
‘She says that about every one of them,’ Mike murmured as Georgina took Sophie to get her hat. ‘She’d love us to buy her one—that’s the trouble with bringing her here, we’ll have nothing else for the rest of the week, and there’s no way she’s having a pony part time, it just isn’t fair. Apart from anything else, I’ve got more than enough to do without pooh-picking and grooming and changing rugs and so forth, and that’s never the end, is it? There’s always another one, and then another one, because the first is too small and then the next one will be lonely and then you can’t get rid of the old one and it just goes on. I know so many farmers who’re overrun with their children’s first ponies and they just can’t get rid of them.’
Fran chuckled. ‘Sounds to me like a done job,’ she teased, but he shook his head.
‘No way, Fran. To tell you the truth, I don’t really like her riding. It’s dangerous, and the odd ride from time to time is OK, but all the time? She’s only six—it’s too risky. So I’m just going to keep saying no to her own pony and letting her come here instead. She’s too precious to us.’
She was. Fran watched her skipping out of the tack room in a body protector and a hat with a shocking pink silk cover on it, looking utterly delectable, and she felt her eyes fill.
‘I have to keep her safe, Fran,’ Mike said, and she heard the little catch in his voice.
‘Don’t worry. I’ll back you up.’
His hand found hers and squeezed. ‘Thanks.’
The lesson passed without incident. Well, more or less. One little girl ended up on her bottom in the sand school, but she was all right and got up laughing, and another ended up in tears because her pony ran off with her and wouldn’t stop, and a boy wanted to change ponies because his wouldn’t go, and Georgina refused and told him that when he gave the pony the correct cues, it would understand. And of course, eventually, when he got it right, the pony trotted forwards nicely and Fran suppressed a smile.
‘Know him?’
‘Oh, yes. I know most of them. He’s a bit of a bully. It’s nice to see something big enough and stubborn enough to beat him. Take him down a peg or two. It’ll do him good.’
‘OK, everybody, that’s it now. Give your ponies a nice big pat and take them back out and tie them up. Well done, all of you.’
Georgina opened the gate, and the ponies filed out.
‘That was so cool! Daddy, can I have a pony? I really,
really
want one!’ Sophie said, the pleading starting before she’d even dismounted, and Mike rolled his eyes at Fran and gave a hollow laugh.
‘Kids,’ he said under his breath. ‘Do we really need another one?’
Fran stopped in her tracks, and after another step Mike came to a halt and turned back to her, his face stricken.
‘Oh, hell, Fran, I didn’t mean that! Darling, I’m sorry.’
‘It’s OK,’ she said, struggling to find a smile. ‘I know it was a joke.’
‘No, it was a stupid, thoughtless remark—I’m so, so sorry, Fran. I don’t know what I was thinking about.’
She shook her head. ‘Not here, Mike. Not now. I’m fine—really. Just let it go.’
But it put a dampener on the drive back and, while Sophie chattered happily about the pony and how she wanted one of her own and what she was going to call it, Mike stared straight ahead, and Fran tried to concentrate on driving and wondered just how much of a joke it really had been, and how much he’d meant it.
Many a true word is spoken in jest, she thought. Maybe he really doesn’t want another child after all and he’s just playing along with me out of pity? It would explain the way he’d kept his distance all these last months, and although he’d said it was because he was afraid of getting her pregnant again, that he couldn’t bear the possibility of her having another miscarriage, maybe that was just an excuse, something legitimate he could use to hide his real feelings behind.
They got back to the farm, and Joy was just coming out of the farm shop as they pulled up.
‘Grannie!’ Sophie yelled. Sliding out of the car, she ran over to her grandmother and started telling her about her riding lesson.
Mike opened the car door and swung round, eased himself out and hobbled over to his mother. ‘Are you busy?’
‘No, not at all. Why?’
‘Just wondered if you’d like to spend a little time with Sophie—who, incidentally, knows she’s not having a pony of her own, so don’t let her try and talk you round—while I have a bit of a rest? And Fran’s got some things to do, so if you don’t mind?’
Fran watched them, heard his words, saw his mother nod agreement and look up, meeting her eyes with concern.
‘Is everything OK?’ she was asking, but Fran couldn’t take any more. She turned away and, locking the car, went into the house, leaving Mike to follow her.
He couldn’t believe he’d said that.
Of all the crass, stupid remarks!
He limped into the house, calling her name, and found her eventually in their bedroom, stripping the bed with fierce concentration, her movements almost savage. He went over to her, took her hands in his, held them against his heart.
‘Frankie, talk to me.’
‘No, you talk to
me
,’ she cried, wrenching her hands away and stripping off the pillow case with enough force to tear it. ‘You tell
me
what you really feel, what you really want. Because I thought I knew, and then I suddenly realised that maybe I didn’t know at all, maybe you don’t really want a baby with me despite all the stuff you’ve said over the last few days, and I have to
know
, Mike,’ she said, throwing down the pillow with a ragged sob.
‘I have to know!’
Her eyes were filled with tears, and with a rough sigh he hauled her up against his chest and hugged her tight. ‘I want a baby,’ he said emphatically. ‘I want your baby. Our baby. And what I said was just a knee-jerk reaction to kids in general, and nothing to do with us. I know it was stupid,
but I thought—Frankie, I thought we’d sorted this out? Thought you knew how I felt. Of course I want a baby. You know I do.’
‘No, I don’t, Mike,’ she said, her body still and unresponsive in his arms. ‘I really don’t, not any more.’
‘Oh, God.’ He sighed, and let her go, frustration at his stupidity making him want to scream. He paced away, then turned back to her, scrubbing his hands through his hair. ‘How can I prove it?’ he asked desperately.
‘Let me try again,’ she said. ‘I know you said you couldn’t bear the thought of me having a miscarriage, but it isn’t you that has to bear it. It’s me. So let me. Or, at least, let’s think about it, because for the last few days we haven’t talked about it at all, and I want to, in the context of our relationship now. Not what it’s been, but what it is now. I know you love me. I know you want me. But I need the truth from you about this, Mike. I need to know that you really, really want a child with me, not that you’re just going along with me, humouring me. Indulging me.’
‘I’m not,’ he said instantly. ‘Never. I want a baby with you, Fran. I’ve said it over and over again. I know what it means to you, how it’s tearing you apart, but it means a lot to me, too. It’s not just for you. I want a child as well—a child who’ll live here with us, a child to share every moment of our lives, not just the odd weekend. I adore Sophie, and I wish she could be here with us more, but if I’d stayed with Kirsten I would have wanted more children. Sophie shouldn’t be alone, and this house needs kids, Fran. Either ours or somebody else’s. And if we can’t have a baby of our own, then I’d like to adopt one—or more. Maybe disabled in some way, a child nobody wants. Not necessar
ily a pretty little baby but a real person with needs that maybe, with enough love, we could meet. The farm’s a wonderful place to be a child, and nature has a way of healing all sorts of hurts. This would be a good place to let that happen.
‘So, yes, I do want a child. With you. And I’ll do whatever it takes, for as long as you want to try. And failing that, I’d like to adopt, because I want to be a full-time father. I love being a father. It’s part of who I am, and I want to share it with you. Does that answer your questions?’
She stared at him, then gave a scratchy little laugh. ‘Pity I wrecked the bed,’ she said, ‘because I could just do with lying down in it with you and having a really big cuddle.’
‘Oh, you idiot,’ he said, his voice cracking. Limping quickly back to her, he grabbed the pillows off the floor, shoved the quilt out of the way and lay down, pulling her down after him. ‘Come here,’ he said gruffly. Wrapping his arms round her, he sighed deeply and pressed a kiss to her forehead. ‘I’m sorry,’ he murmured. ‘Forgive me?’
She tilted her head back and smiled. ‘I forgive you. Actually, I more than forgive you. Maybe I need to push you more often, because you get really honest then, and tell me all the things you’ve been keeping to yourself. Like this adoption business. How long have you been thinking about that?’
He shrugged. ‘I don’t know. Ages. Years, probably. Since I married Kirsten.’
‘Then let’s do it. If I have a baby, great. If I don’t—well, we’ll do as you said. Maybe do it anyway.’
He looked down at her, saw new determination in her
eyes and kissed her. ‘One thing at a time,’ he cautioned, and she smiled.
‘It’s all right, Mike,’ she said. ‘You won’t wake up one morning and find we’re running a children’s home, but it’s something to think about. Something for the future.’
She settled her head down on his chest. ‘Now go to sleep. We’ve only got a short time before we have to get ready to go to the Carters’.’
‘Seems a shame to waste it,’ he murmured, and she lifted her head again and looked up at him.