Page 46 of And Then There Was You

Forty Zach

What was I thinking? I fell right into Seth Hartley’s plan, blinded by my own rage. He knew he was spouting lies, but that was the point, wasn’t it? To goad me. To make me attack him.

And now Merryn hates me.

She couldn’t even look at me.

What have I done?

The last thing I see as I crash out of the café is Seth turning back to Merryn, arms outstretched like a wounded child. I don’t see her push him out.

My eye feels ready to burst out of its socket, the right hook Hartley threw connecting with sickening accuracy.

The skin beneath is already starting to swell.

I’m going to look attractive for my bakery round tomorrow.

I feel bruises rising across my chest and my right fist feels like I slammed it into a brick wall.

I’ll pay for it in the morning – but the greatest debt is already past resolution.

The hurt in her eyes.

The anger and betrayal.

I never thought I’d be responsible for either in Merryn.

There are people in the streets I stagger down but they might as well be ghosts for all the attention I pay them. All I can focus on is my own stupidity.

I don’t want to go back to the studio, but I don’t trust myself to be anywhere else.

St Ives doesn’t need to see my battered face or broken pride tonight.

So I push my body back through town, every step heavy with shame.

I’ll get something on my eye and lock myself away until morning. Better for everyone if I’m not around.

I see the blaze of lights when I turn up the private road to the studio, spilling out across the rain-damp tarmac.

Great . The last thing I need.

Kieran’s car is parked beside the building. He hasn’t done a night session for weeks. Why choose tonight, of all nights?

He’s going to take one look at me and chuck me out. His acceptance of me is still tenuous – I’ve yet to feel confident in it. This will tip him over the edge.

Bloody Seth Hartley! I might lose everything because of what he did. And he knew that, didn’t he? That was the aim all along. Rid Merryn of me and get her all to himself as he’s clearly long dreamed of.

He was asking her for a hug.

She wasn’t yelling at him to leave.

Have I been fooling myself that she wants me?

I reach the front door to find it already ajar. A sudden yell from inside makes me dash in, discarding any thought of my own self-preservation.

Aggie is on the floor, half-propped against the orange sofa, her features creased in pain. She’s clutching her belly, her hands spread wide either side of her bump.

‘Ag!’ I race to her side, throwing her arm over my shoulder as I lift her to the seat. ‘Lean on me, okay? Steady now.’

‘Bleddy kids,’ she wails, grasping for the sofa arm as I strip off my hoodie and roll it into a makeshift cushion to prop against her back. ‘I told ’em they’d to hang fire till the weekend, but did they listen to me?’

‘We need to get you to hospital,’ I rush, wincing as she grips my right hand. ‘Where’s Kieran?’

‘I sent him out.’

‘What for?’

‘You had nothin’ in your cupboards! How are you supposed to work two jobs if you’re not eatin’? Aargh . . .’

‘Try and breathe. Don’t speak.’

She raises an eyebrow. ‘You do know you’re talkin’ to me? And what the hell happened to your face?’

‘It doesn’t matter. We need to find Kieran. Does he have his phone with him?’

‘He always has it.’

I pull my phone from my pocket, wincing at the large crack across the screen where I fell on it in the café. There’s still a display and a signal, both of which I can work with. I find Kieran’s number as Aggie wails beside me, praying he doesn’t see my name on the caller ID and ignore the call.

On the final ring, it connects.

‘I’m stuck in the Co-op because of you,’ Kieran barks in my ear. ‘Do you even know how to shop?’

‘Aggie’s in labour,’ I rush. ‘You need to get back here and get her to hospital.’

‘Stay with her!’ he yells, and I hear him running before the line goes dead.

‘What did he say?’

‘He’s on his way.’

‘Well, he better bleddy leg it .’

I risk a smile, despite my aching face and rising panic.

A hundred potential catastrophes race through my mind, none of them anything I feel confident to deal with.

Should we call an ambulance? Where is the nearest hospital?

Is there time to get Aggie to it? How quickly are twins born?

What happens if the babies arrive before Kieran gets here?

Completely out of my depth, I sit beside Aggie, rubbing her back because it seems like a good thing to do.

‘Just breathe. That’s right. Good. Breathe.’

‘Are you tellin’ me or yourself?’

‘Ag, you’re in labour. It’s kind of a big deal.’

‘Like your face.’

‘Don’t worry about me. Just try to relax.’

‘Okay, I get it. None of my business.’

‘Thank you.’

Where the hell is Kieran? I’m trying to stay in control, but my heart is crashing in my chest.

‘I just wouldn’t like to see the state of the other bloke.’

I groan. ‘ Ag .’

‘Humour me, yeah? I’m a ratty pregnant woman in severe pain. Now is not the time for me to hear a no .’

When she puts it like that, how can I refuse? ‘What do you want to know?’

‘Which bastard tried to punch your eyeball out of the other side of your head?’

‘You don’t know him.’

‘Does it matter? Name and shame, Zachy-Boy. I need the distraction.’

‘Merryn’s friend, Seth. He owns the surf shop next door to her café and he’s everywhere . . . ’

‘In love with her, eh?’

‘Not in love. Thinks he has a God-given right to protect her, though. Like a stupid overprotective brother. And I got in the way.’ My eye throbs as a reminder of just how much in the way I was.

‘He came in while we were together, shouting the odds. Accusing me of exploiting the search to get close to Merryn. Of lying to her.’

‘And then he hit you?’

‘No. He just kept on and on, not letting up. In the end I just went for him.’ I pat the edge of my eye. ‘This is what I got for it.’

She groans again, and I grab my phone.

‘I’m calling an ambulance.’

As I stand, the door to the studio bursts open, Kieran skidding across the floor to kneel by his partner’s side.

‘How are you? Have your waters broken? How far apart are the contractions? Are you doing your breathing?’

‘I’m in labour and it bleddy hurts! Now stop yellin’ at me, unless you want an eye that looks like his.’ She jabs an angry thumb towards me.

Kieran looks up. ‘What happened?’

‘We need to get her to hospital,’ I urge.

‘But we don’t have the bag. Or the birth plan. Or the mood music she wanted.’

‘Do you have your car keys?’

‘Should the babies be coming now? I thought we had three more weeks.’

He’s not even listening. And judging by his jabbering, he’s in no state to drive.

‘Give me your keys,’ I demand.

‘What?’

‘The keys, Kieran! I’ll drive. You get in the back with Aggie and look after her.’

‘You can’t drive my car!’

There’s a loud cry from Aggie that silences us. ‘Argh! Would you just give him the bleddy keys!’

By some minor miracle, I manage to shepherd them both out of the studio, take Kieran’s keys and get all of us into the car.

I’m too buzzed with adrenaline to think about anything except this journey.

It’s forty minutes away – one of the things people don’t always consider when dreaming of living in Cornwall.

At this late hour the roads should be clear, but I don’t dare trust that.

I won’t be complacent, or allow any thoughts of what happened earlier to intrude on the journey.

Aggie and her babies just need me to drive.

It’s a white-knuckle journey from St Ives to Truro, but we make it, Kieran rushing Aggie into the Royal Cornwall Hospital while I park.

In the race to get here, we didn’t discuss what I’d do once they were in the hospital, so I wait in the car, trying to get as comfortable as I can. Until I hear from Kieran, I’m stuck.

What if I’m here all night? I didn’t stop to consider the possibilities before. I have a five-thirty start at Downalong Bakery and the small issue of a huge black eye to explain. I can’t go running into the hospital asking for Kieran because he’s more than a little busy right now.

To cover my bases, I send Matt a text, explaining where I am and what’s happening. If the worst happens and I’m here until morning, at least he’ll know and I’ll still have a job to return to.

I’m wrung out, my body is protesting and, nice though Kieran’s car is, I’m not relishing spending hours waiting in it.

And then, there’s Merryn.

The fight in Sweet Reverie seems an age ago now, only my bruises reminding me of how recent it was.

I want to call her, but what would I say?

I lashed out at Seth when I should have held my tongue.

That he engineered the whole thing to get me to attack him is immaterial.

I should have had more control – and I should have put Merryn first.

Now he’s got the upper hand and I’m out in the cold.

Unless I . . .

The bright, blue-white glow of my phone interrupts my thoughts, a message from Matt displayed on the cracked screen.

You hero!

Just spoke to Kieran.

You can drop his car keys off at the hospital’s main desk. I’m on my way to pick you up.

Hang tight!

Two hours later, I’m back at the studio, finally in my own bed. Thoughts of Merryn won’t leave me alone, but I need sleep. Matt was great about driving me back to St Ives, but I still need to make sure I’m ready for work in the morning.

I can’t think about it all now.

Exhausted, hurting and emptied out of emotion, I close my eyes.