Part 17 (2/2)

*How do you deal with it?'

*Same way as you. By becoming more of a hermit. And by keeping my cards very close to my chest. You wouldn't believe the number of people who have phoned expressing sympathy and concern because they heard Chris and I have split up, who then get angry and resentful because I don't fall apart on their shoulder, or confide my pain in them.'

*That's why you decided to make me your new best friend.' Gabby grins. *I'm safe because I don't know anyone you know.'

*True. And because you f.u.c.ked up as badly as I did. Not that leaving Chris was a f.u.c.k-up, but, well, you know ... James and all the drama around that. I know how dysfunctional this relations.h.i.+p is, and I'm desperate to get out, but I'm terrified of being on my own, a single parent.'

*Okay, I'll make you a promise. After the baby comes, after I get my figure back, I'll consider coming to a bar with you. Just once, just to prove that a bar is not where you will find your future love. But I will come, and we will drink Martinis, and we will have fun. How's that?'

*Good enough for now. And in return,' Josephine surveys the barn, *I'll help you get this place together.'

Gabby's face lights up. *Really? You'd do that for me?'

*Of course. That's what friends are for.'

Gabby endures the stores one more time before Christmas. Elliott has long been in love with watches. He has an ancient Patek Philippe that was pa.s.sed down to him by his grandfather, and a couple of other watches that he loves. He always said to Gabby that if he had the money he would collect watches. One year she bought him a box in which to house his future collection: mahogany, with automatic turners so the watches never stop.

Gabby had sold a couple of pieces, back before the size of her stomach and general feeling of c.r.a.ppiness stopped her from further restoration, and she put the money aside. Walking into Mitch.e.l.l's now, she goes straight to the display of watches, knowing exactly which one to get. It is still there, in the same spot as when she and Elliott were here ten months ago, when Elliott insisted on trying it on, gazing at it in awe, wanting so badly to buy it.

*In the future,' Gabby whispered to him, wis.h.i.+ng their expenses weren't so great, or they lived in a part of the country where the cost of living is lower than it is here.

When the salesman takes the watch from the display, telling her of the history of the company and explaining how special this particular example is, she can no longer remember the price of the watch, only that it was beyond her wildest dreams. But she flinches as she turns the price tag over and sees it is so very much more than she thought.

So very much more than she brought.

But there are credit cards. And future earnings. Josephine has been as good as her word, and has been at the barn every morning, filling her car with useless junk and driving it to the dump, helping Gabby sweep out the dust and whitewash the walls, thereby turning the barn into a s.p.a.ce clean and bright, a s.p.a.ce in which you'd want to linger. Gabby wanted to call it The Dumpster Dive, but Josephine wouldn't hear of it.

*I know you find stuff in dumpsters but you don't want anyone else to know it. How do you expect people to pay eight hundred dollars for something if they know you got it for free?'

*Because I broke my back stripping, restoring and painting it?' grumbled Gabby.

*Doesn't matter. You have to have a story. Tell them you import faded antique pieces from England, restoring them in your New England barn.'

*It's not really New England,' Gabby said, impressed. *It's Westport.'

*Still counts. From Old England to New England,' Josephine declared dramatically. *A piece of the old country.'

*That's what we should call it! The Old Country!'

*I love it!' Josephine said. *Perfect!'

They haven't opened yet, but they will, and Josephine, who seems to have become an official partner, is convinced they will sell everything. Living in New Canaan, she has access to a whole new crowd of girls, all of whom, she says, will love it.

*I thought no one was talking to you?'

*No. I'm not talking to them. They're all dying to find out what's going on. Trust me, they'll come.'

Gabby turns the watch over in her hands, mentally doing the calculations. If she put it on the credit card and sold five more pieces, that would cover it. And if she didn't sell the pieces? She could sell her engagement ring. She hasn't worn it for years anyway, never comfortable with the large solitaire diamond that seemed so essential at the time.

What if none of this works out? What if she and Elliott get divorced? Does she really want to be spending this kind of money? Yes, she decides. She loves him, has always loved him, and without doubt will always love him. This watch is her way of letting him know that. This gift will tell him know how sorry she is, and that, despite her transgressions and whatever mistakes she has made, she still loves him very deeply.

*I'll take it,' she says, her heart pounding. She is unable to believe she is spending quite so much money.

*An excellent choice,' he says. *Your husband will love it. He's a lucky man.'

Gabby smiles sadly. There is nothing else to say.

Chapter Twenty-Six.

Each year Gabby, Elliott and the girls go to Maple Row Farm for their Christmas tree, where they insist on traipsing through the fields in search of exactly the right uncut tree, despite the fact that there are lines of perfect trees, trees that would, indeed, suit them perfectly, cut and stacked up at the side of the car park.

It never takes less than two hours, the girls darting around calling, *Over here! What about this one?' Elliott tramping over with saw in hand, Gabby yet again cursing the fact that she didn't bring extra gloves, because Olivia always forgets hers and ends up wearing Gabby's, while Gabby tucks her freezing hands into her armpits, convinced she will have frostbite by the end of the day.

They buy apple cider and doughnuts at the stand, and sit on low benches around the roaring fire to warm up, while Alanna usually wanders over to the two giant cows lazily munching hay in a small paddock next to the barn.

They haul the tree up to the roof rack, Gabby on one side of the car, Elliott on the other, then loop orange twine round and round, Elliott saying next year they'll get a smaller tree, and Gabby agreeing, although the tree gets bigger year by year.

There will be no Maple Row Farm this year. Not without Elliott. It wouldn't be the same, and Gabby could never manage to cut down and haul a tree by herself, and certainly not in this condition.

She drives instead to the Audubon Society, where there are pre-cut trees that are absolutely fine, and they tie it to the roof of her car for her. When she gets home she runs next door to her neighbours and the husband comes out to bring it into the house.

Gabby has become increasingly reliant on the kindness of neighbours. And strangers. She didn't realize how much she needed Elliott around, until there was no Elliott.

There was the night she heard a rustling coming from downstairs, and came down to find a frantic and terrified squirrel, which had somehow fallen down the chimney, tearing up the living room. She had always adored squirrels as a child a she would crouch down to feed them peanuts in Regent's Park a but they were, she discovered, infinitely scary when trapped inside your home.

A neighbour's husband a different neighbour a came to help, swiftly accompanied by two other husbands as word of the rampaging squirrel spread around the local area.

As a thank you, Gabby has baked mince pies and Florentine biscuits, and delivered them, beautifully wrapped in cellophane and plaid ribbon, with wishes for a wonderful holiday season.

More mince pies and Florentines, Elliott's favourite, are laid out now, on a white platter, on the dining-room table. The turkey is roasting, and Frank Sinatra has been replaced a at Olivia's insistence a with the Christmas alb.u.m from Glee.

Swags of spruce, garlanded with burlap, drape the fireplace and banister in the front hall, where the theme is white and silver: thick white pillar candles wrapped in silver birch glisten at each end of the mantelpiece with wreaths of white feathers between them, while glittery silver deer traipse along the hearth.

On into the family room, where all is red and green and tartan. Plaid throws adorn the sofa that Gabby and the girls have brought down from her bedroom, making it cosy and warm. More spruce is draped along the mantelpiece, this time with red velvet ribbons. A fire is blazing, but the stockings hang high out of reach of the licking flames.

The tiny electric model ice rink has been dug out, with its twinkling lights and miniature skaters, who do endless magnetic figures of eight. They found this together in Boston one year. The girls were fascinated by the little skaters, and delighted that Elliott and Gabby bought it. Still, today, Alanna will sit and watch the skaters, lulled into a zombie-like state by the repet.i.tive motion. Flicking a switch turns on tinny Christmas carols, but none of them flick the switch, preferring to watch the skaters in silence.

The gifts are piled high under the tree. Large ones for the girls and, at the back, where no one can see it, a beautifully wrapped bronze box, with a striped gold ribbon, for Elliott.

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