Part 14 (2/2)

*Oh G.o.d, Claire. Why are you telling me this?'

*Because you asked, Gabby. I don't know what to say. I'm trying so hard to forgive you, and I love you and Elliott so much, and ... that's why I'm struggling. I can't see him in this kind of pain and get together with you and pretend I'm okay with all of it.'

*I'm not asking you to pretend to be okay with all of it. I don't expect you to be okay with it. G.o.d, I'm not okay with it. I'm disgusted with myself. I am ashamed, and if I could think of anything in the world I could do to change it, I would. Jesus, Claire ...' Gabby fights to keep her voice low enough that it doesn't project to everyone in the room. *If I could, do you not think I would turn back the clock? I'm twenty-five weeks pregnant and there is nothing I can do about it other than feel sick for ruining my life, everyone's life, with one mistake. Sick. And disgusted. And the last thing I need is for my best friend to abandon me through this. The last thing I need is to feel judged, and hated, by you.' Tears are now streaming down Gabby's cheeks.

*I could never hate you,' whispers Claire. *I love you, but I can't be there for both of you. It's too draining. This isn't my choice. It isn't that I've chosen Elliott over you, but Elliott has chosen us, and I haven't got the strength right now for both of you. I'm sorry. I know you won't understand ...'

*You're right,' Gabby snaps, whirling as she prepares to leave the room. *I don't understand.'

There is a table in the corner of Starbucks, by the window, which Gabby grabs, cradling her green tea as she looks out onto the Post Road, lulled into calm by the pa.s.sing cars. She still can't believe the conversation she had with Claire, can't believe that, despite the way Claire has decided to reframe it in her mind, Claire has chosen Elliott over Gabby.

And then there were none, she thinks.

She looks up to see Elliott approaching the table.

*Hi. Sorry I'm a bit late.' He sits down as Gabby jumps up.

*Let me get you something,' she blurts, in a reversal of their roles, for Elliott would always be the one to get coffee, or food, or anything, while Gabby and the girls sat at the table.

*No, I'm fine.'

*You must have something. Tea? I'm drinking green tea. It's good. You'll like it.'

*Okay,' he acquiesces. *Sure.'

She goes to the counter to place the order, knowing this would never happen if they were still a couple. Elliott would automatically order the tea, pulling his wallet from his pocket to pay for it. Back at the table she sets down his mug and sits.

*Thanks. I just came from the realtor's office.' Elliott takes a sip of his tea. *That's why I was late. They're going to phone you to make an appointment to come and value the house.'

Gabby stares at him. *What?'

*I thought it would make sense to sell the house, and even though they don't recommend putting it on the market until the spring, I'd like to have an idea of what it's worth.'

*Why would we sell the house?'

Elliott snorts. *Gabby, if we're not together, we each need money for our separate homes, and the only place that money's going to come from is the house. This is the most practical solution.'

Gabby's heart is pounding. *If we're not together. But what if we are? What if we are able to work through this? What if we get back together, but we've lost our home? Elliott, you and I both love the house; think of all the work we put into it. We can't sell our house.' There is an urgency to her voice.

*Gabby,' he says quietly, *I don't think there's anything to work through.'

She makes an effort to calm her voice, even though her body is jittery with panic. *What do you mean?'

*I mean, you're pregnant with a baby by another man. That's it. It's done.'

*You want to divorce me?' Of course deep down she knew that this was the way things were going, but they haven't mentioned the D word before and she thought, hoped, that as long as it wasn't mentioned then getting back together was always a possibility.

Elliott stares at the table, grimacing with discomfort and pain, unable to believe he is sitting inches from his wife and having this discussion with her, the woman he thought he would spend the rest of his life with, the woman he imagined growing old with, a woman so perfect for him he has never, not for a second, even thought about anyone else.

*No,' he says, looking up at her, wincing as he speaks. *I don't want to divorce you. But you've left me no other choice.'

Gabby holds it in until she is in her car. She holds it in until she turns onto Center Street. She holds it in until she finds a quiet spot on the side of an empty street at the edge of town, where she parks, hides her head in her hands, and howls.

Putting her head back she screams at the roof of the car, pounding the steering wheel until, exhausted, she just lays her forehead on the wheel and sobs, moaning in pain.

Her mobile phone rings. Maybe it's Elliott. It must be Elliott. He must be phoning to say he made a terrible mistake; he's thought things through and he can't throw away twenty years of marriage like this. Frantically she roots through her handbag, pulling out the c.r.a.p that mysteriously makes its way into all her bags a tissues, earplugs, leaflets, more leaflets, tampons with torn wrappers, hair bands a until she finds the phone.

It isn't Elliott. It's her mum.

*Darling!' Natasha trills down the phone. *I haven't heard from you for ages. I just turned to your father earlier and said, ”Have you heard from our naughty daughter recently?” And he said, ”Not for months.” So I decided to call! How are you? And how are my gorgeous granddaughters?'

*Hi, Mum.' Gabby's voice is reedy and thin, despite her attempt to disguise her tears. *We're good.'

*You don't sound good, darling. You sound terrible. What's the matter? Do you have a cold?'

Gabby has never turned to her mother in her life. Her mother, who was there for everyone else, who took in strangers and helped them sort out their lives, is the very last person Gabby would ever think to turn in a crisis.

She rarely thinks to call them, and they, she a.s.sumes, are too wrapped up in their own worlds to call her. She loves her parents, naturally, but when people talk of their support systems, their families, Gabby has always known that the only support system to whom she would turn is her family of choice: Elliott, the girls, Claire.

Now that support system has broken down, and the only person that's left is the woman on the end of the phone right now.

*I don't have a cold.' Gabby can feel herself starting to break down. *Elliott's left me.'

Natasha doesn't say a word of interruption, just lets her daughter tell her the whole story. She asks questions when necessary, prompts Gabby when needed, but there is no judgement in her voice, only kindness, compa.s.sion and love.

*What am I going to do?' Gabby says, over and over. *What am I going to do?'

*You're going to get the local paper, you're going to go to the noticeboard in the library, and you're going to go online and Google. You're going to find yourself a divorce support group with a b.l.o.o.d.y good therapist leading the group. You're going to find other women going through the same thing, because you cannot be alone through this. You will not be alone. My G.o.d, Gabby, if I have to come out there myself and help you through it, I will. Darling girl, you aren't alone. I promise you.'

*You'd really come out?' Her mother has come to America three times in the last twenty years, the last of which was five years ago. It was much easier, she'd taken to saying, if they all came to London. Gabby would think: easier for whom? Although she never put up much of a fight as she did so love going home.

*I would. I will. You just say the word and I'll book my flight.'

Gabby lies in bed, her hands resting on her belly as she feels the baby do a lazy somersault. She moves her nights.h.i.+rt aside and watches her stomach undulate, a knee or an elbow pus.h.i.+ng out her skin, and despite all that has happened, despite wis.h.i.+ng she could go back and do things differently, she cannot help but gasp with amazement that she is carrying another life inside her.

Today it feels as magical as it was with Olivia and Alanna a the miracle of a tiny person in her stomach a and for the first time, as the tears roll gently down her cheeks, she smiles, just a little.

This time, they are tears of wonder and joy.

Chapter Twenty-Two.

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