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“You can’t throw all these words about! Remember at the restaurant? You told me you didn’t like being called a player because it suggests you play with women’s emotions, and that’s something you deny.”
“I do deny that. I’m not trying to play with your emotions, Grace. I’m literally being as honest with you as I can. I’m telling you exactly what’s going on in my mind.”
“Shit. Well . . . I really like you too.” I lean over and peck his cheek. “Now that’s out in the open, why don’t we go get that tea?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
GRACE
Emily and I are at a table in the snug of the Bannock Hotel. It’s just the two of us. We’re catching up over hot chocolates and going over plans for motherhood.
Even though it’s only an informal chat between friends, when I arrived, Emily produced an A4 binder, as though this were in fact a business meeting. The folder covers everything from cots and prams to maternity bras and baby-led weaning. Handwritten notes are mixed in with clippings from magazines and printouts from websites. There’s even a mood board for transforming one of the hotel’s rooms into a nursery. It shows off a soft neutral colour palette and various pieces of stylish oak furniture.
I shouldn’t be surprised by how organised Emily is. She was, after all, a successful wedding planner back in London, while she’s now employing her skills to put on events in the new function room. Even so, I can’t help but compare us and feel a twinge of inadequacy. I’ve saved a few bookmarks on my phone’s browser, but that’s about it.
It’s not just Emily’s organisational ability that has me feeling inferior. As she turns the pages of the binder, her engagement ring sparkles in the light of a lamp—a reminder that our situations are very different.
Luckily, before my comparisonitis can spoil our catch-up, Lewis arrives carrying two plates. “Sorry to interrupt, but I made some scones earlier. I thought you ladies might fancy a snack?”
“Yes, please!” Emily says.
“That’d be lovely,” I agree. “Thanks, Lewis.”
Grinning, he places down the plates. On each is a fruit scone, a small jar of jam, a pot of clotted cream, a napkin, and a knife. “Enjoy! I’ll leave you to it.” He departs as quickly as he arrived.
Emily lets out a contented sigh. “I swear living here is dangerous for my figure.”
“Hmm.”
She remains nearly as petite as she was before she fell pregnant.
“I’m being serious! Having Morag’s Bakery just down the road is both a blessing and a curse. Normally, I find it too hard to resist temptation, but Morag has closed up shop between Christmas and New Year. I thought this would be the perfect time for a no-cake diet, but it’s not working out very well because Lewis is into baking too.”
I halve my scone, slather on the cream, then top it with jam. “Planning a diet for Christmastime was a mistake—that was never going to happen. Anyway, if we’ll be gaining weight no matter what, I say we might as well enjoy it.”
With that comment, I take my first bite, closing my eyes and savouring it. Ah! Crispy on the outside, velvety soft on the inside, punctuated by the sweetness of the jam and the richness of the cream. Bliss!
“You’re right.” Emily bites into her scone too then groans with satisfaction. “Oh, this is incredible. I don’t know how Lewis keeps his gym-honed figure when he can bake like this.”
So as not to get crumbs on the binder, we don’t touch it while we’re eating. It remains open at some clippings of items Emily has identified as being essential from birth: her preferred sling, bouncer, bath, and breast pump.
“When you add up everything a baby needs, it gets so expensive, doesn’t it?” I say. “And some things, they’ll only use for a few months, or maybe even just a few weeks.”
Emily considers this. “True, but then again, their little brothers and sisters will get use of them, right?”
I giggle. “Little brothers and sisters? How many are you and Ally planning to have?”
“Good question! Even though Ally is the eldest of four, he says he’d happily stop after one, but since I didn’t have siblings, I really want our child to have at least one, but ideally a few. I expect I’ll get my own way in the end.”
We share a smile. Ally may moan at times, but he dotes on Emily and would do anything for her. Chances are he’ll come around to her way of thinking.
“Anyway, how are things going between you and Aidan?”
“Fine, I think, although yesterday he did something a bit weird.” I briefly explain about the visit to that awful house.
“Typical man! He doesn’t understand what it’ll be like for you when the baby comes. Of course you wouldn’t want to live somewhere like that. Although . . . he may have picked the wrong house, but what about the idea of you moving up here? I’m biased, but I think having you in Bannock would be the best thing ever.”
I take another sip of my hot chocolate while I mull this over. “I can’t deny it has a certain appeal, but how would I earn money? My business is down in London, and I refuse to be a kept woman—I need my independence. To be honest, I doubt Aidan earns enough for that to be a possibility anyway.”
