Five Winters(82)

But then I met Tom, who was normal in comparison, with a regular job for an engineering company and reasonably good looks. Not much of a sense of humour, but maybe he just needed to get used to what made me laugh?

Just sleep with him, I could hear Tina Bateson saying in my ear. What are you waiting for?

I did sleep with Tom, not because of Tina Bateson’s imagined whispers but because I wanted to. But when I did, somehow it didn’t feel quite right—Tom’s overconscientious attempts to give me pleasure, the little glances to see if he was doing a good job or not. I began to feel self-conscious, which is never a recipe for sexual satisfaction. I had a creeping suspicion I might be fooling myself. Again. Trying to convince myself I felt something I really didn’t.

And then the questions started up: Did I really want to conceive a child like this? To be shackled to Tom or someone like him for the rest of my life because of joint parenthood? And I knew I was probably going to have to end our relationship, and that wasn’t going to be pleasant, because Tom appeared to adore me. Worst luck.

I still hadn’t done anything about it by the time of Sylvia’s memorial dinner at the end of July, on what would have been Richard’s birthday.

Tom had stayed over the night before—I hadn’t planned for him to, but we’d gone to see a local band and had a few drinks, so one thing had led to another. Now I needed him to leave, but Tom didn’t seem to be in any hurry to go anywhere. After I finished showering and returned to the bedroom to get dressed, he was still in bed.

“I was thinking,” he said, propping himself up on one elbow to watch me put on my underwear. “I’ve got a cousin who lives in Enfield. Kate. I haven’t seen her for ages. I could drive you if you like. That way you could have a few glasses of wine with your lunch.”

On the face of it, it was a nice offer. But with doubts starting to creep in about Tom and me, I was wary of offering him false encouragement.

“Thanks, but I’m not planning to drink today, so I’ll be fine. My car could do with a drive out.”

I slipped my dress over my head. When I emerged, Tom was right there, ready to zip it up. How had he managed to get out of bed so fast? It was kind of creepy.

“Okay, whatever you think. I’ll go and see my cousin anyway, though, now I’ve thought of it. I might go on the train if you don’t need a lift. Kate lives right near Enfield Town station, so it’s handy. Is that anywhere near your family?”

“Not really,” I said, brushing my hair in front of the mirror, my back to him. “They’re at Enfield Lock, near the river.”

“Nice.”

“It is.”

I turned, trying to ignore the fact that he was totally naked. Well, after Jaimie, I was used to naturism. “Anyway, I’d better get going. I said I’d arrive early to give Sylvia a hand, so . . .”

Finally, he took the hint. “Oh, sure. I’ll get dressed. Silly me.”



I wasn’t actually looking forward to the meal. It was bound to be emotional. Even after all this time, we all still missed Richard like crazy. And apart from that, this would be the first occasion I’d spent any amount of time with Mark since last Christmas. It was going to be tough, seeing him, reliving that hurt and humiliation.

But it had to be done. Unless I was planning on turning my back on Groves family gatherings forevermore.

Mark and Buddy had been living at Sylvia’s ever since his split with Grace, so I expected to have to deal with seeing him almost as soon as I got there. But he was out.

“Mark’s taken Buddy for a walk,” Sylvia told me after we’d kissed. “I expect they’ve popped into the pub on their way home. They often do on Sundays.”

“How is Mark?” I asked, following her to the kitchen.

Sylvia sighed. “Not great, to be honest. I always thought Grace was such a nice girl, but she’s really had her claws unsheathed while they’ve been trying to sort a settlement out. Honestly, she didn’t put her flat on the market when they got together, did she? She’s still got somewhere to live, whereas Mark has to put up with living with his old mum.”

She forced a smile. “Anyway, how are you, darling? We don’t seem to have seen very much of you lately. Rosie says you have a boyfriend?”

I sighed, then told her about Tom and how it wasn’t really working out for me. “I thought I should at least give dating a try before I went down the adoption route, but it’s been a complete disaster. I should have stuck with my application. I might have had a child by now if I had.”

It was good to talk about it all. I’d really missed seeing Sylvia so much, what with avoiding Mark.

“Adoption isn’t something to rush into, though, is it?” Sylvia said now. “Not when there’s another life at stake. Playing devil’s advocate, perhaps if you’d been totally sure about adopting, you wouldn’t have paused the process? Just a thought.” She took my hand and squeezed it.

I squeezed hers right back. Sylvia was right. As usual. God, I loved her.

“How about you?” I asked. “How are things with you?”

“Well,” she said, and something about her expression made me look more closely at her. Was she blushing? “Things are all right. Good, actually. That was partly why I wanted you all to—”

But just then the front door opened, and Rosie called out to us, so Sylvia broke off, calling, “We’re in the kitchen, love.”