Part 18 (1/2)

'Can I come in?'

Jesse filled the s.p.a.ce of the small front room. He didn't sit down but stood looking at her with such tenderness that it took all Loveday's strength not to reach out and hold him.

'How are you feeling?' he asked her.

'A bit s.h.i.+t. Sorry, I must look awful. I didn't sleep very well and I keep being sick.'

'Poor you.' He touched her arm with his hand.

She stepped away and towards the tiny kitchen. 'I was just about to put the kettle on. Want one?'

'Yeah. OK.'

'How's Greer feeling? She said she was a bit tired.'

'Yeah. She's OK. Yeah.'

Loveday busied herself with taking mugs from the old kitchen cabinet. It was the type that had a pull-down worktop and cupboard s.p.a.ce for larder items and crockery. He saw that she'd been making toast.

'Had your breakfast then? That'll help with the sickness, my mum says.'

The blue enamel kettle was whistling on the gas stove. Loveday poured water into her mother's ancient brown teapot. And kept her back to him. 'What are you doing here, Jesse?'

He moved towards her but she turned and stood with the hot kettle between them. 'This baby is Mickey's,' she said.

'Loveday, I'm not cross. I'd help you. If this baby is mine, no one need ever know, if that's what you want.'

He wasn't expecting her reaction to be so swift and angry. 'So you'd let Mickey think this baby was his which it is and you'd be the big man secretly helping me out?'

Jesse nodded, feeling scolded and confused. 'Yes. I would. Is that so bad?'

'It'd be worse than cheating on your best friend ... which you did.'

'So did you.'

Loveday was angry. She slammed the kettle back on the metal stove. 'I know I did. Don't you think I regret it every minute? Every time I look at Mickey? Every time I look at Greer? s.h.i.+t, Jesse, we did something terrible.' She looked up at him, the anger draining away to be replaced by sheer horror and sadness at what they had both done sleeping with each other's best friend; sacrificing their own happiness. Tears started to spill from her eyes.

Jesse slowly stepped towards her and took her in his arms. 'Hey, baby. It's OK. It's over. No one will ever know. I'm here for you. Always.' She pushed him away and wiped her eyes furiously with the backs of her hands, and then tore off a sheet of kitchen roll to blow her nose.

'You're not the father,' she snuffled.

'Are you sure?'

'Yes.'

'How can you be so sure?'

'The dates.'

Jesse shoved his hands into the pockets of his yellow waterproof jacket. 'Well, in that case, congratulations ... to you both.'

They heard the front door squeak open and Mickey's voice calling, 'Loveday, I've got a surprise for you! What are you doing on Wednesday the seventeenth?'

Mickey ducked through the doorway of the kitchen. 'h.e.l.lo, Jesse. This is lucky: I can kill two birds with one stone. What are both of you doing on Wednesday the seventeenth of March?'

He looked from one to the other and back again. 'No? Can't answer? Well, I'll tell you what you are doing you're going to a wedding! We've got an appointment at the Register Office on Monday, then we have to wait fifteen days, but then ...' He bounced forward and squeezed Loveday into his arms. 'You're going to be Mrs Chandler, and Jesse ' he smiled at his best friend over the top of his wife-to-be's head 'you're going to be my best man!'

The Bodmin Register Office had a small and pretty marriage room. The walls were Doulton blue and the ceiling white. There was a large arrangement of silk flowers in a corner by the window, in front of which happy couples usually had their first photos taken as man and wife. There was room for only forty guests but, as neither bride nor groom could afford a large wedding, at least ten seats were empty.

Mickey and Jesse sat in front of the important-looking leather-topped table on which the registrar, a woman in her early forties with a chirpy smile and earrings to match, was laying out her various ledgers and pieces of paper.

Mickey had had a short back and sides and was wearing a new suit from Burton's.

He was nervous and couldn't keep his hands from checking his tie, his hair and eventually his pockets. The inside breast pocket yielded the was.h.i.+ng instructions.

'Machine washable at 40,' he read. 'That's handy.'

'Very,' said Jesse, and the two men grinned at each other, enjoying the momentary distraction.

'Do I look all right?' Mickey asked.

'You'll do.'

'Have you got the ring?'

'Yes.'

'At least I'm not p.i.s.sed like you were.'

Jesse instantly flashed back to his wedding morning and the horrible secret he was keeping from Mickey. 'If I can be half the best man and best mate you've been to me, I'll be doing OK.'

Mickey shone his innocent smile at Jesse. 'I'm so happy. I can't believe that Loveday is actually going to marry me and that we have a baby on the way. This is the best day of my life.'

Outside, in the chilly anteroom, where brides could gather with their flotilla of bridesmaids and attendants, Loveday was taking deep breaths. Greer was rummaging in her bag for some Rescue Remedy.

'Here,' she said, holding up the small brown bottle and opening it to reveal the gla.s.s pipette. 'Three drops under the tongue. Open wide.'

Loveday did as she was told and Greer dripped in the recommended amount, with another couple of drops for luck.

Loveday grimaced. 'That's bleddy brandy!'