‘About?’
‘Don’t pretend you’ve forgotten that too,’ said Neve. She cocked her head to one side. ‘You know, you were going to think about it again.’
The smile on Kit’s face dropped like a stone. He exhaled a long breath and gently removed Neve’s hands from his neck. ‘We agreed.’
‘We didn’t. You decided. There’s a difference.’
‘Neve, I don’t want to give you false hope; the answer is still no.’
Neve felt the tears spike her eyes. She blinked hard. She felt desperate. She was finding it increasingly more and more difficult to contemplate a life without a child of her own. She knew there was no middle ground on the issue, no compromise, and this only served to frustrate her even more. One of them had to do a complete U-turn. ‘Please don’t just say no without thinking about it. I mean, really thinking about it. I’m on the verge of begging you.’
‘And we’ve had this conversation so many times lately. Come on, Neve, it’s not like I’ve suddenly changed my mind about it. I’ve always been honest with you. You’re being unfair. I do wish you could just accept it.’
‘And I wish you could accept the risk of something tragic happening again is remote. I’m willing to take the chance.’
‘I’m not. I’m not willing to risk losing another wife in childbirth and …’ he glanced over his shoulder, ‘… and having another child with special needs as a result,’ he finished. He fixed Neve with a glare, daring her to challenge him, before striding round to the other side of the island worktop. ‘I’m not having this conversation again. Understand?’
Sadly, Neve did understand. She had always thought that she might be able to persuade Kit to change his mind. Never in a million years had she thought that when they first had the conversation about increasing their little family unit from three to four, his reluctance was, in fact, a determination. He was never going to have any more children. He was never going to subject himself to the trauma he went through with his first wife. And he certainly was never going to run the risk of having another child starved of oxygen and suffering brain damage as a result. She understood it wasn’t that he didn’t love Poppy. He totally loved her, but his time and emotions were stretched enough looking after just one child, so looking after two was a physical and mental impossibility for Kit. Neve’s thoughts turned back to her adopted daughter and she followed Kit out to the hall.
‘Are you sure there’s no way you can cancel Sean and get to Poppy’s presentation?’
‘No. I can’t. I’m sorry,’ said Kit. ‘You’ll be there; that will make her happy.’
‘Just as well I cancelled my art class, then,’ said Neve. She couldn’t help feeling peeved at Kit’s lack of concern at missing Poppy’s presentation, and in assuming that she’d be there to pick up the pieces. It didn’t matter to him that she had to cancel something that was important to her.
Kit gave a laugh. ‘It’s just an art class. Not like it’s a job, or anything.’
‘And whose fault is that? You don’t want me to have a job!’
‘A lot of women would love to be in your shoes and not have to work. I like you here at home, so does Poppy. Why are you getting all worked up about an art class anyway?’ asked Kit.
‘Because it’s not just an art class,’ said Neve, resisting the urge to stamp her foot in frustration. ‘It’s my art therapy class.’
‘It won’t hurt you to miss it just this once,’ said Kit.
‘You’re being so unreasonable,’ said Neve. ‘Anyway, that’s not the point. The point is, I’ve gone out of my way to make sure I’m there for Poppy. Why can’t you?’
Kit gave an exaggerated sigh, as he spun round to face Neve. ‘Tell me, is it the fact that you’ve had to cancel your art class that’s pissing you off or the fact that you won’t be seeing Picasso this week?’
‘What are you talking about?’ Neve could feel the colour rising up her neck.
‘Jake. You’re always going on about him, how he understands art so well, how he uses colours to interpret moods, how the passion shines out from his paintings,’ said Kit, mimicking Neve’s voice. ‘You’ve even started making your face a work of art in the mornings. More red lipstick, fussing over your hair. Don’t think I haven’t noticed.’
‘What? Are you mad?’ asked Neve, hoping her indignation was convincing enough. Really, she felt embarrassed; it was true, she had been fussing over her hair a bit more and as much as she tried to deny it to herself, she knew deep down it was for Jake’s benefit. But to be called out on it by her husband was humiliating. She genuinely didn’t think Kit had noticed the extra attention she was giving to her appearance and she was annoyed with herself for being so naïve. The last thing she wanted was Kit thinking she was involved with Jake in any way, although, she had to admit to herself that she found Jake attractive and there was no denying it was reciprocated. Not that either of them had said anything to each other, but she could feel it fizzling in the air between them.
‘I think the fact that your face has turned bright red and you have that blotchy rash across your neck is all the proof I need.’ Kit took a step closer. ‘Is there something you want to tell me, Neve?’
Neve held her nerve, more from pride than innocence. ‘There is nothing to tell,’ she said. ‘Jake is my art tutor, that’s all.’ She paused, not blinking an eye, daring Kit to say something more. ‘Typical of you to jump to conclusions.’
Then, to her surprise, he gave a smile followed by a fleeting kiss on the mouth. ‘Good. Let’s keep it that way,’ he said, before turning and calling to Poppy. ‘I’m going now, Poppy. I’ll see you later.’
Neve watched as Kit waited for a response from his daughter. She fought hard to hold back the tears that were threatening. Kit didn’t know how lucky he was to have a child of his own. He loved Poppy deeply and was even more protective of her because of what had happened and how the events of the past had affected her and, yet, he couldn’t understand how not having a child herself tormented Neve. She loved Poppy, there was no question about that, she’d been in Neve’s life for the past seven years, the last five as her legally adopted daughter, but Poppy wasn’t Neve’s. The inner desire and need to have a child of her own had never diminished and, if anything, grew more intense as her now 29-year-old body clock ticked along. And as much as it upset her, it made her cross too. Who the hell was Kit to say what she could and couldn’t have?
‘Where is she?’ said Kit, impatience evident in his voice.
‘I sent her up to brush her teeth,’ said Neve. She joined Kit at the foot of the stairs and called up. ‘Poppy! Your dad’s going. He wants to say goodbye.’
No answer.
‘Poppy!’ Kit had raised his voice to a shout.
They both listened for an answer and when met with silence, they exchanged a look.
‘I’ll go and get her,’ said Neve, not saying what they were both thinking.
Neve knocked at the closed bathroom door. ‘Poppy? You OK?’ She strained to hear the sound of Poppy brushing her teeth or the water running. Neve tried the handle and the door opened without resistance. The bathroom was empty.
Neve went along the landing to Poppy’s bedroom. She repeated the procedure of knocking on the door and waiting for an answer and when she didn’t receive a response, she opened the door. Once again, the room was empty. Neve felt her stomach give a little dip. ‘Please don’t do this,’ she whispered as she made a thorough check