A Family To Belong To. Natasha Oakley
was the ‘but’ that had taken away any hope she might have had. The operation had revealed that her ovaries hadn’t formed properly. A ‘genetic abnormality’. She would never have children.
Never.
At twenty-two she hadn’t even realised she wanted children, but the word never was a for ever type of word. It meant for all time. It was beyond her control. It was until the day she died. She would never have a baby.
Kate looked up and met Debbie’s grey eyes. Their gentle expression told Kate that she remembered too. The memory of that time was never very far away—for either of them. Debbie had been thirteen weeks pregnant. The contrast in destiny between the two of them couldn’t have been more marked.
Debbie’s hand lay protectively over her tummy. ‘It doesn’t matter, Kate.’
‘It does. I wish…’ She trailed off, uncertain what she actually did wish. That things were different? That she wasn’t here? That she were stronger and able to accept the things she couldn’t change?
Kate hated herself for not being stronger. She could see the exhaustion in Debbie’s face. Her eyes were bloodshot and tears were obviously not far from the surface. If there’d ever been a time when she could have paid something back to Debbie for her good-natured acceptance of her into her childhood home, this was it. But…
As though she knew what she’d been thinking, Debbie broke into her thoughts. ‘I’m just so glad you’re here. I’ve been half expecting you to telephone to say you wouldn’t be able to make it and I don’t think I can do this by myself. I miss Mum so much. I keep thinking about how she won’t see my baby now.’
Her round face crumpled and Kate forgot herself and reached for her. She wasn’t even aware of the baby bump between them.
‘It’s due in another six weeks. Not long. If she’d just managed to wait…’
‘I’m sorry, Debs. I really am,’ Kate murmured, stroking her hair. For a few minutes she held her, letting her cry softly into her shoulder.
‘I shouldn’t be doing this to you,’ Debbie said, pulling away and blowing her nose in a tissue. ‘I promised myself I wouldn’t do this as soon as you arrived. But I’m just so pleased to see you. I really need you to be here.’
Kate reached out and laid her hand on Debbie’s swollen abdomen. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ she asked softly. ‘About the baby?’
‘I didn’t know how to. Do you mind very much?’
Beneath Kate’s hand she felt a hard kick. She looked up to see Debbie pull a face. ‘Did that hurt?’
‘Not hurt exactly—but it’s not the most comfortable experience. Put that together with the heartburn and swollen ankles; the whole thing’s just perfect.’
Kate laughed as she was meant to. To her ears it sounded dutiful but it seemed to satisfy Debbie. ‘You should have told me,’ she said, pulling her hand away and turning at the sound of the back door opening.
‘That’ll be Gideon,’ Debbie said quickly.
‘Is anyone home?’
Debbie reached across to pull a tissue out of a box on the table and blew her nose fiercely. ‘I wasn’t expecting you for another couple of hours,’ she called out. ‘I hope you didn’t hurry back without getting everything you needed done.’
‘All finished.’ He smiled across at Kate as she pushed back against the worktop.
‘This is Kate. Do you remember her from—?’
Kate cut in quickly, unaccountably embarrassed. ‘We met on the ferry.’
‘Oh. That was nice. I wasn’t sure you’d remember each other,’ Debbie said, as she tucked the tissue up her sleeve. ‘Kate’s not been back to the island much since she left for university. Hardly at all since she started work.’
‘No, she hasn’t.’
There was a slight edge to his voice that forced Kate to look up at him.
His eyes held a critical expression. But fleetingly so. No sooner had she recognised it than it was gone.
Debbie peered out of the back window. ‘Is it still raining out there? Give me your coat, Gideon. It might dry off a bit before you have to leave.’
Gideon shrugged out of his wet jacket but kept hold of it. ‘You sit down. I’ll put it in the utility room.’
Debbie sank down into a seat. ‘I don’t know what the matter is with me today. My ankles have puffed up and I feel so tired.’
‘Take it easy now, then,’ Gideon said, emerging from the small back room Debbie used as a laundry room. ‘How have the girls been?’
‘Just fine, but I’m afraid Tilly’s fallen asleep. Nursery just wore her out today. And Jemima’s got a letter from school about an Easter pageant, but she’ll show you that.’
‘Do you want a cup of tea?’ he asked, turning towards the kettle.
‘That would be lovely.’
Kate watched, feeling like a spare part in what was obviously an old friendship. ‘How long have you looked after Gideon’s girls?’ she asked, taking the seat opposite Debbie’s.
Gideon cut in. ‘She’s helping me out for a few days.’
Kate swivelled round to look at him. His face was turned away as filled the kettle.
‘I’m not doing much,’ Debbie said. ‘Just picking them up from school and nursery, then hanging on to them until Gideon collects them. I’m Mum’s stand-in.’
Debbie rubbed her stomach gently. ‘Mum said she’d look after the girls until Gideon’s had a chance to find a good replacement for Ingrid. Emily helps too, of course. Rachel Boyle when she gets the chance.’
Gideon opened one of the top cupboards and pulled down the box of teabags. ‘Ingrid was our nanny.’
‘One day she was there and the next she was gone,’ Debbie said, bristling with indignation. ‘Very irresponsible to behave like that when you work with children.’
‘She’s a city girl and found island life a bit claustrophobic. It’s not for everyone, living here. I shouldn’t have hired her.’ Gideon glanced across at Kate. ‘She wanted more nightlife than can be found in Newport and my hours didn’t help.’
‘She knew them when she took the job. It makes me cross.’
It felt strange listening to Gideon and Debbie talking together. In her mind she’d kept everything on the Isle of Wight frozen in time, everything just as it always had been. But things had changed. Friendships had been forged by circumstances she hadn’t been a part of. Kate was suddenly aware of a wave of homesickness.
Gideon smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling. ‘Babs stepped in to help.’
‘You know Mum…’ Debbie tailed off and Kate pushed the box of tissues across the table towards her. Yes, she knew Aunt Babs. She’d never been able to stand by and watch other people struggle when she could do something to help them. Debbie was the same. They were special people.
Debbie smiled a watery smile across the table and took a tissue. ‘Thanks. I’m such a mess. I can’t seem to stop crying.’
Kate looked at her mottled face and red-rimmed eyes and felt guilty. She hadn’t cried yet. Inside her heart was a dull ache, but she hadn’t been able to shed a single tear for the woman who’d been so pivotal in her life. Without Aunt Babs she’d have had a very different future.
‘It’s hardly surprising,’ she said awkwardly.
Gideon brought three mugs of tea across to the table as a small tornado burst into the room shouting, ‘Daddy! Daddy, you’re back!’