Josie Metcalfe - Miracles in the Village

He couldn’t believe he’d said that.

Of all the crass, stupid remarks!

He limped into the house, calling her name, and found her eventually in their bedroom, stripping the bed with fierce concentration, her movements almost savage. He went over to her, took her hands in his, held them against his heart.

‘Frankie, talk to me.’

‘No, you talk to me,’ she cried, wrenching her hands away and stripping off the pillow case with enough force to tear it. ‘You tell me what you really feel, what you really want. Because I thought I knew, and then I suddenly realised that maybe I didn’t know at all, maybe you don’t really want a baby with me despite all the stuff you’ve said over the last few days, and I have to know, Mike,’ she said, throwing down the pillow with a ragged sob. ‘I have to know!’

Her eyes were filled with tears, and with a rough sigh he hauled her up against his chest and hugged her tight. ‘I want a baby,’ he said emphatically. ‘I want your baby. Our baby. And what I said was just a knee-jerk reaction to kids in general, and nothing to do with us. I know it was stupid, but I thought—Frankie, I thought we’d sorted this out? Thought you knew how I felt. Of course I want a baby. You know I do.’

‘No, I don’t, Mike,’ she said, her body still and unresponsive in his arms. ‘I really don’t, not any more.’

‘Oh, God.’ He sighed, and let her go, frustration at his stupidity making him want to scream. He paced away, then turned back to her, scrubbing his hands through his hair. ‘How can I prove it?’ he asked desperately.

‘Let me try again,’ she said. ‘I know you said you couldn’t bear the thought of me having a miscarriage, but it isn’t you that has to bear it. It’s me. So let me. Or, at least, let’s think about it, because for the last few days we haven’t talked about it at all, and I want to, in the context of our relationship now. Not what it’s been, but what it is now. I know you love me. I know you want me. But I need the truth from you about this, Mike. I need to know that you really, really want a child with me, not that you’re just going along with me, humouring me. Indulging me.’

‘I’m not,’ he said instantly. ‘Never. I want a baby with you, Fran. I’ve said it over and over again. I know what it means to you, how it’s tearing you apart, but it means a lot to me, too. It’s not just for you. I want a child as well—a child who’ll live here with us, a child to share every moment of our lives, not just the odd weekend. I adore Sophie, and I wish she could be here with us more, but if I’d stayed with Kirsten I would have wanted more children. Sophie shouldn’t be alone, and this house needs kids, Fran. Either ours or somebody else’s. And if we can’t have a baby of our own, then I’d like to adopt one—or more. Maybe disabled in some way, a child nobody wants. Not necessarily a pretty little baby but a real person with needs that maybe, with enough love, we could meet. The farm’s a wonderful place to be a child, and nature has a way of healing all sorts of hurts. This would be a good place to let that happen.

‘So, yes, I do want a child. With you. And I’ll do whatever it takes, for as long as you want to try. And failing that, I’d like to adopt, because I want to be a full-time father. I love being a father. It’s part of who I am, and I want to share it with you. Does that answer your questions?’

She stared at him, then gave a scratchy little laugh. ‘Pity I wrecked the bed,’ she said, ‘because I could just do with lying down in it with you and having a really big cuddle.’

‘Oh, you idiot,’ he said, his voice cracking. Limping quickly back to her, he grabbed the pillows off the floor, shoved the quilt out of the way and lay down, pulling her down after him. ‘Come here,’ he said gruffly. Wrapping his arms round her, he sighed deeply and pressed a kiss to her forehead. ‘I’m sorry,’ he murmured. ‘Forgive me?’

She tilted her head back and smiled. ‘I forgive you. Actually, I more than forgive you. Maybe I need to push you more often, because you get really honest then, and tell me all the things you’ve been keeping to yourself. Like this adoption business. How long have you been thinking about that?’

He shrugged. ‘I don’t know. Ages. Years, probably. Since I married Kirsten.’

‘Then let’s do it. If I have a baby, great. If I don’t—well, we’ll do as you said. Maybe do it anyway.’

He looked down at her, saw new determination in her eyes and kissed her. ‘One thing at a time,’ he cautioned, and she smiled.

‘It’s all right, Mike,’ she said. ‘You won’t wake up one morning and find we’re running a children’s home, but it’s something to think about. Something for the future.’

She settled her head down on his chest. ‘Now go to sleep. We’ve only got a short time before we have to get ready to go to the Carters’.’

‘Seems a shame to waste it,’ he murmured, and she lifted her head again and looked up at him.

‘Are we making up for lost time?’ she asked.

He chuckled. ‘Is that a problem?’

‘No problem,’ she said, and kissed him.

The baby was gorgeous.

Sophie was captivated, and when the men wandered off to look at the fields, Fran asked Lucy if there was anything she could do to help and ended up with Annabel in her arms.

‘Oh, that’s better. She can pull your hair instead of mine,’ Lucy said with a laugh, kissing the baby’s nose and making her giggle deliciously. She clapped her chubby hands in delight, and Fran caught one of them and blew a raspberry on it, making her giggle even harder.

‘I want to blow a raspberry,’ Sophie said, and Fran crouched down so Sophie could reach, and the baby giggled again and grabbed Sophie’s curls.

‘Ouch!’ Sophie said with a laugh, gently pulling her hair out of Annabel’s fingers. She danced over to Lucy and said, eyes sparkling, ‘I’m going to have a baby too!’

‘Oh!’ Lucy spun round, her eyes also sparkling, and said, ‘Oh, Fran, that’s so lovely, because so am I! When’s yours due?’

Oh, lord. ‘Um … it’s not me, it’s Kirsten—Sophie’s mother,’ she explained, wondering if everything today was going to be destined to floor her, ‘but congratulations! That’s really lovely for you.’

‘Oh, well—it’s a bit quick. Fran, I’m really sorry,’ she added, her eyes conveying her regret.

‘It’s a shame it’s not you and Daddy,’ Sophie chipped in, looking up at her with wistful eyes. ‘That would have been so nice.’

Wouldn’t it just? Fran thought, and banished it. She was going to enjoy herself this afternoon. One thing at a time, Mike had said, and she was starting now, having a lovely cuddle with little Annabel to fill her achingly empty arms.

‘But perhaps you could have one too,’ Sophie went on, as relentless as ever. ‘Daddy said maybe one day, so maybe it could be a soon maybe instead of a never maybe. He usually means never, though. Like the pony. He said maybe once, when I was four, but now he just says no.’

Lucy laughed a little awkwardly. ‘I think a baby’s a bit different, Sophie. I’m sure Fran and your father will have a baby when it’s right for them.’

‘What if it’s never right?’

‘Then you’ll have your mother’s new baby anyway,’ Fran pointed out. ‘And, like your father said, it might be nice to come to us and have a bit of peace.’

Lucy rolled her eyes. ‘Amen to that,’ she said fervently. ‘This one still doesn’t always go through the night and by the time she does, I expect I’ll have the other one.’

A shadow fell across the room, and Mike and Ben walked into the kitchen.