‘You’ve done a lovely job in this room,’ Ken said to break the silence that Maggie was waiting for James to fill. ‘In fact, the whole house is really coming along.’
‘Yes, it’s been a hard slog stripping everything back. This room must have had about six layers of wallpaper underneath,’ James explained. ‘But the end result is all down to Maggie.’
‘Oh, James, you always did hate taking credit for anything. He was exactly the same when he was little,’ Judith said.
When Maggie spoke, her tone was that of a frustrated schoolmistress who was tired of repeating herself yet still managed to keep up a façade of good humour. ‘I chose rosemary and peppermint for the theme because they both have properties that help with digestion, perfect for a dining room, and of course the blue-green of the peppermint complements the silvery rosemary leaves. I may not be able to see colours any more, but I can still visualise them with my sense of smell. My mum taught me the basics and training for my accreditation as an aromatherapist brought even more depth to that visualisation,’ Maggie said, using the opportunity to remind Judith that she was a skilled professional. ‘Every room has been carefully thought through and my next project will be the third bedroom.’
Maggie turned towards James in grim expectation.
‘It’s a fair-size room,’ Ken said, ‘not one of those boxy third bedrooms by anyone’s standards, but the boys will still fight over who keeps the bigger one.’
James didn’t answer immediately and the sense of anticipation was tortuous. Maggie had to bite her tongue to stop herself from jumping in. As he cleared his throat, his discomfort was obvious and contradicted all his previous assurances that his parents would take the news well.
‘Actually,’ James paused, ‘it’s going to be a nursery. We’re going to have a baby. Maggie is due at the end of October.’
Maggie couldn’t see Judith’s jaw drop but she imagined it had just hit the table. She looked in her direction and dared her to speak her mind.
‘Son, that’s fantast—’ Ken began but the first spark of delight was brutally snuffed out by his wife, whose reaction was true to form.
‘Oh, James, what were you thinking?’
‘What do you mean?’ James’s question had an edge to it.
‘Have you really thought this through? What about your plans for the future?’
‘This is my future, Mum.’
Judith was only momentarily silenced. ‘I know you’re coping now but wouldn’t a baby be taking on too much? I was worried about how you would manage to keep your business going once you and Maggie moved in together but credit to you, in fact credit to you both, you’ve proved me wrong but, son … seriously? How are you going to manage looking after a baby too?’
Maggie remained silent as Judith blustered on.
‘I’m going to help, of course I will,’ James said. ‘But Maggie is perfectly capable of caring for the baby, just like she’s perfectly capable of caring for herself and her husband.’ He reached over to take Maggie’s hand and, as the tips of her fingers brushed against his wrist, she could feel his pulse racing.
Despite wrestling with her own doubts, Maggie refused to let it show. ‘There will be changes and there will be challenges,’ she said. ‘But we’ll overcome them and we’ll be the best parents we possibly can.’
‘But—’ The single word came out like a torpedo, a warning shot for the tirade that would follow but in a rare display of assertiveness, Ken disarmed his wife.
‘We’re both surprised by the news, that’s all. Congratulations, both of you. You can count on us for our support.’
‘I’m glad you said that, Dad,’ James jumped in. ‘Maggie wants to carry on working, don’t you?’
Maggie was stunned and could only nod as she realised where the conversation was leading. When they had first talked about starting a family, the plan had been for Joan to help with childcare so Maggie could return to work and she had wanted to return quickly. There was no one qualified to cover her absence at the salon and she risked losing clients if she stayed away too long. She only worked two or three hours a day and her mum had been more than willing to help but those plans had been made an impossibly long time ago. Everything had changed since then and she had assumed James would have realised that. He continued:
‘So how do you feel about being a little more hands-on with your next grandchild?’
There was a sharp intake of breath from Judith and deservedly so. Judith was fifty-eight and, unlike Kathy, was already planning her retirement. She had cut back her hours as a volunteer at a charity shop and intended to give up work entirely when Ken retired from his job as an architect the following year. Taking care of a baby wasn’t part of her plan and Maggie could sympathise: the idea horrified her too. Thankfully, Judith was rescued from the need to answer by a knock at the door. Jenny had arrived.
Inviting Jenny had been a stroke of genius. Not only was she a much-needed ally but she could talk to anyone about anything and she kept the conversation flowing over the awkward pauses during dinner.
Maggie had met her when they were both fifteen. Jenny’s family had been new to Sedgefield and the arrival of a quiet, surly teenager at school had been a blessing in disguise. Maggie had been managing reasonably well in a mainstream school but once surging hormones had entered the mix, her peers had begun to develop at a faster pace and slowly but surely Maggie had become marginalised. The two girls formed an alliance that gave each of them the courage to face the world and eventually Jenny’s true personality had emerged and she hadn’t shut up since.
‘So, Maggie,’ she said. ‘When are you going to tell us all about this ghost of yours?’
‘We have a ghost?’ James asked.
‘No, we do not have a ghost,’ Maggie said through gritted teeth, regretting having said anything to Jenny about her encounter by the lake earlier that day, when she was still trying to make sense of it herself. But despite her denial, Maggie couldn’t easily dismiss the idea that Elsa belonged to the past more than the present. It was, after all, where Maggie often retreated and would it be so terrible to believe that her favourite park bench held the power to resurrect the people who had once rested upon it?
Jenny had homed in on the supernatural aspects of Maggie’s story and even though Maggie had told her very little about Elsa, and nothing at all about the secrets she had sworn to keep, her friend’s curiosity had been piqued. But Maggie wasn’t going to be drawn into the conversation at the dinner table. ‘I met another mum-to-be in the park and she was a little eccentric, that’s all. So how’s the job going, Jenny?’
Realising her mistake, Jenny didn’t object to the swift change of subject. ‘I thought I would hate going back to work but it’s so nice having conversations that don’t revolve around a baby’s sleeping, eating and toilet habits.’
‘And if there’s one thing you can count on when you visit Jenny at the bank, it’s conversation,’ offered James.
‘I like to spend time getting to know my customers, that’s all. And I’ll have you know, that kind of personal service is a dying art.’
‘I wouldn’t be surprised if they made it bank policy,’ Maggie added with a mischievous smile. ‘I think all staff should be able to update customers on which celeb is sleeping with who, what’s going on in all the TV soaps, not to mention advice on the latest high street fashions.’
‘I keep you on trend, don’t I?’
‘Yes, you do,’ Maggie conceded. Jenny was her official stylist while Kathy could be relied on to keep her beauty regime up to date. When she had first met James, it was thanks to their help that she had looked more like the young woman she was and not the old spinster