‘Nope,’ he agreed.
‘OK. What time?’
‘Now?’ he suggested. ‘It’s a nice afternoon.’
‘Are you standing outside my flat or something?’ she asked.
He laughed. ‘No. I’m sitting in my kitchen, drinking coffee. Which is the alternative offer if you don’t want ice cream.’
‘You’re pushy.’
‘No. I’m not letting you push me away, and it’s a subtle but important difference. I like you, Bailey,’ he said. ‘I think you and I could make a good team.’ There was a pause, and for a moment he thought he’d gone too far. But then she said, ‘I like you, too.’
It was progress. Of sorts.
‘I’ll see you here in, what, an hour?’ she asked.
‘An hour’s fine,’ he said.
Jared turned up with flowers. Nothing hugely showy, nothing that made a statement or made Bailey feel under pressure; just a simple bunch of pretty yellow gerbera. ‘They made me think of you,’ he said.
Funny how that made her feel warm all over. ‘Thank you. They’re lovely.’ She kissed his cheek, very quickly, and her mouth tingled at the touch of his skin. ‘I’ll put these in water.’ Which was the perfect excuse for her to back away, and she was pretty sure he knew it, too.
They ended up going for a walk in the nearby park. And when Jared’s fingers brushed against hers for the third time Bailey gave in and let him hold her hand. He didn’t say a word about it, just chatted easily to her, and Bailey knew they’d turned another corner. That she was letting him closer, bit by bit.
Everything was fine until they walked past the children’s play area.
‘I used to take my niece to the park when she was small. Before she grew into a teen who’s surgically attached to her mobile phone,’ Jared said. ‘The swings were her favourite. That and feeding the ducks.’
So that picture back at his place was of his niece. Even though Bailey’s mouth felt as if it was full of sawdust, she had to ask the question. She needed to know the answer. Clearly he loved being an uncle—but would that be enough for him? ‘Do you want children of your own?’
‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I’d love to have kids—someone to kick a ball round with and read bedtime stories to. One day.’
Was it her imagination, or did he sound wistful? She didn’t quite dare look at him. Besides, panic was flooding through her again.
He wanted children.
OK. So this thing between them was new. Fragile. There were no guarantees that things would work out. But it wouldn’t be fair of her to let things go forward without at least telling him about her ectopic pregnancy. If he wanted kids, he needed to know that might not be an option for her. Yet, at the same time it felt too soon to raise the subject. As if she were presuming things.
She’d have to work out how to tell him. And when.
‘What about you?’ he asked.
How did she even begin answering that?
It was true. She did want children. But that would mean getting pregnant, and the whole idea of that terrified her. It was a vicious circle, and she didn’t know how to break it. ‘One day,’ she said. Wanting to head him off the subject, she added, ‘The café’s just over there. The ice cream’s on me.’
To her relief, he didn’t argue or push the subject further. But he didn’t let her hand go, either. He was just there. Warm and solid and dependable, not putting any pressure on her.
So maybe, she thought, they might have a chance.
She just had to learn to stop being scared.
EVERYTHING WAS FINE until the following Monday, when Bailey was having her usual chicken salad with Joni after the yoga class.
Joni had been a bit quiet all evening, looking worried.
‘Is everything OK?’ Bailey asked.
‘Ye-es.’
But she didn’t sound too sure. Bailey reached across the table and squeezed her hand. ‘What? You’ve had a fight with Aaron? It happens. One or both of you is being an idiot, one or both of you will apologise and it’ll be fine.’
‘It’s not that.’ Joni bit her lip and there were tears in her eyes. ‘Bailey, I don’t know how to say this—I mean, it’s good news, but I also know that …’
At that moment Bailey knew exactly what her best friend was going to tell her. And, even though it was ripping the top off her scars, no way in this world was she ever going to do anything other than smile—and she was going to try and make this easy for Joni, because she knew exactly why her best friend was worried about telling her. ‘Joni, are you about to tell me something really, really fantastic—that you and Aaron are going to be …?’
The sheer relief in Joni’s eyes nearly broke her.
‘I’ve been dying to tell you since before the wedding, but …’
Yeah. Bailey could remember how it felt. The moment she’d suspected she was pregnant, the moment she’d done the test and seen the positive result, the way Ed had scooped her up and swung her round when she’d shown him the test stick. The sheer joy and happiness of knowing that they were going to have a baby, start their own family … She’d managed to keep the news to herself for four whole days before it had been too much to keep it in any more; she’d sworn both her mum and her best friend to total secrecy and had burst into happy tears when she’d told them. And whilst Ed had been worried about her jinxing it by telling everyone too early and not waiting until the twelve-week point was up, she’d been so happy that she just couldn’t contain her news any longer.
Maybe Ed was right—maybe she had jinxed it by telling everyone too soon.
She pushed the thought away. Not now. This was about her best friend’s future, not the wreck of her own past.
‘Oh, Joni, I’m so pleased for you.’ And she was, she really was. Just because it had gone bad for her, it didn’t mean that she couldn’t appreciate anyone else’s joy. ‘That’s fantastic news. How far are you?’
‘Ten weeks. I went for the dating scan today,’ Joni said almost shyly.
‘Good.’ So Joni definitely wasn’t going to go through the pain and fear of an ectopic pregnancy. Bailey almost sagged back in her chair in relief. ‘So do I get to see a photograph, then?’
‘Are you sure you want to see it?’
At that, Bailey got up, walked round to the other side of the table and hugged her friend. ‘Don’t be so daft! Of course I want to see the scan picture—I’d be really upset if you didn’t show me.’
Joni blinked away tears. ‘Sorry. I just didn’t want to bring back … you know. And I’m being so wet.’
‘Hormones,’ Bailey said with a grin. ‘You’ll be crying at ads with puppies and kittens in them next.’
She sat down again as Joni reached into her bag for a little white folder and handed it to her. She studied the ultrasound photograph. ‘You can see the baby’s head, the feet, the spine—this is incredible, Joni.’
‘And the heart—it was amazing to see the baby’s heart beating.’
Bailey hadn’t even got to do that bit, so it wasn’t