This Could Change Everything(63)
Brendan gave a snort of disgust. ‘I don’t know why you’d want one of those. What are you, pregnant?’
It was one of those chance moments when one person’s off-the-cuff question coincides with a distinct lull in the general hubbub of conversation. At any other time it would have passed unnoticed, but not on this occasion. To be fair, Brendan always did sound as if he was bellowing through a loudhailer.
But as heads swivelled in their direction, it was Giselle’s reaction that gave her away. If she’d laughed it off, dismissing the remark as the joke it was clearly meant to be, everyone else would have gone back to their own conversations and it would have been forgotten in moments.
Instead, her ultra-fair Celtic complexion turned pink, then pinker, then an unquestionable shade of puce.
A classic example of the more you realise you’re starting to blush, the more impossible it becomes to stop it.
The colour clashed dreadfully with her burnt-orange coat and scarf.
And now everyone in the pub was staring at her. Including Brendan, who boomed into the silence, ‘Bloody hell, you really are pregnant!’
Then the door swung open and Lucas appeared, framed in the doorway. All the heads, including Giselle’s, now turned in his direction.
It was all very Gunfight at the OK Corral.
Lucas, who was carrying a bag of limes, said, ‘What’s going on?’ and for a split second Essie thought this was news to him too. Then she saw the look Giselle gave him and the reason for his recent air of preoccupation became clear. Of course he knew.
‘I asked for a soft drink instead of a glass of wine and Brendan made a joke about it,’ Giselle told him. ‘Then I went bright red and completely gave the game away.’ She smiled and crossed the room to slide her arm around Lucas’s waist, then turned and addressed everyone in the bar. ‘Well, we were going to try and keep it to ourselves for a bit longer than this, but . . . seeing as the secret’s out . . . Lucas and I are expecting a baby and we couldn’t be happier!’
The whole bar erupted into cheers and applause. Lucas hugged Giselle, and Brendan yelled, ‘Looks like the drinks are on you! Just so long as you don’t try to fob the rest of us off with bloody apple juice!’
Lucas said, ‘You’re absolutely right. Now that everyone knows, we can celebrate. Jude, can you get the Mo?t out of the fridge? And we’re going to need some extra glasses . . .’
Essie, on autopilot, busied herself collecting the slender champagne flutes and lining them up in rows along the highly polished bar. So much for secret dreams. It was the end, the definitive end of the fantasy she’d been harbouring, the one where Lucas and Giselle had their completely amicable parting of the ways.
Because there was no way that was going to happen now. They weren’t just a couple, they were on course to becoming a family.
And now everyone was moving closer, gathering around the semicircular bar in order to congratulate the parents-to-be and join in with the celebrations. Jude had produced the bottles of champagne, Lucas was expertly uncorking them and Giselle was being told how wonderful she looked.
Essie, clearing away abandoned empty glasses, concentrated on telling herself that nothing had changed. She hadn’t lost Lucas because he’d never been hers in the first place. He and Giselle were having a baby; all she could do was be happy for them and wish them well. Moments later, belatedly realising that Giselle still didn’t have a drink, she poured her an apple juice. ‘Here you go. And congratulations.’
Giselle took the drink with relief. ‘Ah, thanks so much. Everyone’s being so kind. It’s ironic really,’ she confided. ‘Everybody’s saying how well I’m looking, but when Brendan tried to sit me down next to the coffee machine, the smell made me feel as sick as a dog. Do I really look OK?’
Her huge amber eyes were clear, her Celtic skin was flawless. Essie said truthfully, ‘You look amazing,’ and in return Giselle gave her a hug.
‘Thank you. You’re so lovely. I still can’t believe this is all happening. Obviously it wasn’t planned, but it kind of feels so right. And we’re both thrilled . . . I can’t tell you how happy it’s made us . . .’ As her words trailed away, Essie turned to see Lucas beckoning for Giselle to rejoin him.
Once the glasses of Mo?t had been passed around to everyone present, Lucas, with Giselle back at his side, raised his glass. ‘This is a special day. Thanks to all of you for being here to share it with us. Here’s to Gi and me, and to our baby.’
‘To Lucas, Gi and the baby,’ everyone chorused, clinking their glasses together. ‘Cheers!’
And Essie, belatedly grabbing a glass of her own, saw tears of joy swimming in Giselle’s beautiful amber eyes.
Chapter 30
‘This place is stunning,’ Essie marvelled.
They’d reached the village of Colworth and turned in through the stone-pillared entrance gates, making their way along the narrow road that ran adjacent to a reed-lined river before driving over an ancient humpback bridge and approaching the ivy-clad hotel itself.
Colworth Manor Hotel was one of the gems of the Cotswolds. The manageress, whose name was Daisy, had evidently spotted them pulling up outside and was now coming over to greet them. Tall, dark-haired and with a beaming smile, she shook hands with Essie and Conor, then gave Zillah a big hug. ‘Hello, how lovely to see you again. It’s been ages! And look at you, as glamorous as ever. I have to tell you, your email made me cry.’