Part 21 (1/2)

Natasha is shocked. *But you must tell him.'

*Mum. Please. I've made a decision. This is my baby, and I don't want him to feel obligated to be involved, or feel pressurized, or think I'm coming after him for money, or anything else. I made a decision, as soon as I found out, that he would never know.'

*But what if he wants to be involved? What if he wants a child?'

*Even worse!' sputters Gabby. *The last thing I could handle right now is a custody battle. And he has money. Enough to pay for the best lawyers in the world. It would be a disaster. Anyway, I haven't spoken to him in ... nine months. It was one night. Nothing. I need to move on.'

*Then what will you tell Henry about his father?'

*I'll cross that bridge when I come to it.'

*I can't tell you what to do, but I urge you to reconsider. Henry has a right to know his father, and his father has a right, certainly, to know about Henry. The biggest mistake any of us can make is to keep secrets. They always come out in the end, and it is the ones that people make most effort to hide that cause the greatest problems. I truly believe that what is called for here is absolute clarity. You need to give his father the opportunity to step up. If he doesn't, you will always know you have done the right thing.'

Gabby just stares at her mother. Everything she has told herself, every argument she has used to convince herself she is doing the best thing, now falls flat. Her mother is right.

She has to get in touch with Matt.

Gabby a I can't believe I heard from you! It's been, what? A year? Feels like for ever since you and I were in touch. After I came to visit, when everything got really awkward, I could tell you were uncomfortable so I thought it best to just keep my distance and give you some s.p.a.ce. I figured you'd get in touch when you were ready, and this morning a there you were! Bringing a huge smile to my face. But you told me nothing a I don't know anything about your life these past few months and I'm dying to hear your news. Did you turn the barn into a store? Are you now a furniture-restoring/furniture-selling mogul? Are you happy?

Life here is as crazy busy as ever. Remarkably, I'm in a relations.h.i.+p! Yes, you heard me right. A real relations.h.i.+p. Monroe is her name a I know, so LA :) a and she's truly a great girl. She's a model, but completely unlike so many of the airhead models I've come across out here. She has a degree in physics, and is very precise, and organized, and competent. I suppose I would describe her as a woman of substance. She reminds me of you in a lot of ways. She's warm, and fun, and wickedly clever. She's also the most secure woman I've ever met, other than you. She inhabits her skin comfortably and easily. I hope the two of you can meet a I know you'd get on.

So, what's the cryptic message about wanting to talk to me? We could chat on Skype, but I'm coming to New York next week and it would be easy to fly out to Connecticut for lunch. Are you around next week? Does that work? Tuesday?

Am sending you a big hug, and I want to hear all your news. I'm so happy you got back in touch!

Matt xoxoxoxox As soon as Gabby reads the message all traces of the anger and resentment she'd harboured towards Matt for months disappear entirely. She reads the email over and over, a large smile on her face.

Her own, to him, was stilted and short. She never expected such warmth, and, dare she say it, even love, in his email. But there is undoubtedly affection in every line, and the prospect of seeing him, of telling him about Henry, is suddenly far less frightening.

She sends him an email in reply, managing to fill it with fluff a books she has read that she loves, her happiness at him having found someone, her life being busier than ever.

She resists the temptation to drop even a hint into the email. Such life-changing, momentous news needs to be delivered in person, even in these digital times, and she phones Le Farm to book a quiet table so she can break the news.

Her figure is nowhere near ready for the jeans to be done up, so it is the ubiquitous yoga pants for her today, teamed with a flowing sweater and scarf, cute white sneakers.

I look like my mother, she thinks to herself with a smile as she checks her reflection before going downstairs.

*You look like me!' her mother exclaims as Gabby walks into the kitchen. She finds Henry reclining in a bouncing chair on the table, being fed, Natasha having warmed up a bottle of pre-pumped breast milk that was left in the fridge.

*Mum!' Gabby warns. *It's not time. He's not supposed to have that for another twenty minutes.'

*But he was hungry!' complains her mother, who still does not understand Gabby's need to follow a routine, particularly since Gabby was fed on demand and slept in the family bed long before the concept of the family bed even had a name.

*Okay, okay.' Gabby can't be bothered to argue. She has little tolerance for the screaming of a hungry newborn baby either. When Olivia and Alanna used to scream Elliott would take them in his arms and walk them endlessly up and down the stairs until they were quiet. With no Elliott, it is far easier to just feed Henry when he wants it.

Perhaps her mother is right after all.

*You look beautiful,' her mother says. *In all seriousness. You really ought to wear make-up more often.'

*Thank you.' Gabby leans down to give her a kiss, before planting a kiss on Henry. *Wish me luck.'

Natasha raises her free hand to show her fingers are crossed, before blowing Gabby a kiss as she heads out of the door.

She wasn't nervous in the slightest before she pulled into the parking s.p.a.ce outside the restaurant, but as soon as she parks she starts to feel slightly sick. How is she supposed to tell him? And when? Does she make small talk throughout lunch and drop the news like a bombsh.e.l.l over coffee? Would she even be able to do that? To pretend everything is fine, knowing she is about to change his life for ever?

Or does she blurt it out at the beginning, risking him storming out of the restaurant, leaving her alone and embarra.s.sed to pay the bill? What if there's someone she knows in there? What if there are women who overhear, who then spread rumours, or pa.s.s her pitying looks as she stumbles out in a fog of humiliation?

She pushes open the door, pa.s.ses the heavy curtain, and scans the tiny restaurant to see Matt already there, in the corner, his face lighting up as he sees her. There is something so familiar about him, so rea.s.suring about seeing him, and yet all the attraction she once felt has disappeared. It is like seeing a long-lost brother, not a man with whom she was once obsessed.

*Gabby!' He holds out his arms, giving her a huge hug, and she allows herself to be held, relieved not to have seen disappointment in his eyes. She no longer wants him, not in that way, but for him to be so instantly comfortable, so warm, so clearly pleased to see her gives her confidence, sets her at ease.

*You look beautiful,' he says, and it is clear he means it. *This has obviously been a good year for you.'

*It has been ... a tumultuous year,' she says, seeing the opportunity, wis.h.i.+ng it hadn't presented itself quite so early on in the lunch. *You look handsome. And happy. I love your hair longer. It suits you.'

He blushes. *You won't believe this but I think I've finally met the girl to ... tame me. I've actually fallen in love, and she, Monroe, likes my hair longer.' He is bashful telling Gabby this. *This is all her doing, I'm afraid.' He runs his fingers through his hair and grins self-consciously.

*You're in love!' Gabby teases. *Oh, Matt. I'm so happy for you. You deserve it.'

She is astonished to find she means these words, that there is not a hint of jealousy in her being, only pleasure that he has found happiness.

*What's she like?'

*Funny. Smart as a whip. No-nonsense. She's a little like you. And she's practical a she can make anything, and she's far better with a screwdriver than I am.'

*And beautiful, I'm sure.'

*She does some modelling.' He shrugs as if to apologize. *But enough about me and my love. You said you've had a tumultuous year. What does that mean?'

*Oh G.o.d. It's a very long story. One that needs a drink.' She smiles. *Will you join me?'

*Martinis at lunchtime? How decadent!' He grins. *I'd forgotten what a good drinking partner you are.'

*No Martinis for me at the moment. But a weak white-wine spritzer would be lovely.'

They order drinks and chat about the restaurant, the menu, the deliciousness of the dishes that pa.s.s them, until there is a pause.

*You still haven't told me about the tumultuous year.'

Gabby nods slowly. *That's because I'm not sure where to start.' She takes a deep breath. *I separated from my husband.'

Matt's eyes fill with sympathy and he reaches across the table for her hand. *Oh, Gabby. I'm so sorry.'

*Thank you. It's been devastating. Oh G.o.d.' She starts to laugh, raising her eyes to the ceiling, unable to believe how like a bad movie this is feeling. *I just don't know how to say this, so I'll come out with it. I had a baby.'

*Are you serious?' Matt's smile contains astonishment and confusion. *My G.o.d. That was quick! You look amazing.'