Chapter 10 - part i

[girlyswot]

Patrick waited nervously, not quite part of the family group nor completely detached from it.  He wished he hadn't come.  To see Nick again, after nearly fifteen months, surrounded by such hordes of people was not what he would have chosen but it would have been churlish to refuse Rowan's invitation.

 

They knew she was due home today, she'd radioed ahead.  Mrs Marlow had come, Rowan of course, Ginty and Lawrie.  Patrick found himself wishing fervently that Gin, of all people, had been struck down with plague rather than be there to watch him and Nick.  But then, perhaps he was wrong, anyway.  None of Nick's cards had been at all loverlike.  He'd've happily let his parents read her breezy notes sent at odd times from farflung places.

 

Lawrie yelped incoherently, pointing into the distance.  It could've been almost any yacht.  Patrick kept calm, not believing.  But the single small figure was standing waving at them, then competently steering the vessel safely into harbour, securing the ropes, leaping across the bows and being engulfed in family emotion.  He watched, wondering whether to intrude.  But Nicola detached herself and came over towards him, holding out her arms.  He went forward to hug her tightly, carefully turning his head so none of the others could see the tear he felt falling down his face.  She whispered, 'I've missed you.'  He could only murmur agreement and hold her more tightly.

 

Then they were being piled into cars.  Nick's things were stowed away and the boat made safe.  Lawrie reclaimed her twin and sat beside her, recounting the story of How the Navy had been Sent to Rescue Nicola, only then, of course, by the time they arrived, Nicola had satisfactorily rescued herself and Giles had been reprimanded by his senior officer.  Nicola smiled and gasped in all the right places but Rowan, looking searchingly at her, told Lawrie to belt up and let the poor girl enjoy a proper snooze.

'Oh!  Are you tired, Nick?'

'Well, you know, a bit.'  Nicola winked at Rowan.

 

The planned welcome home meal went a bit flat after that.  Nicola, unused to so many people after such a long time at sea, found she could hardly follow the conversation.  She excused herself early and disappeared to bed.

 

For quite seventeen hours, she slept.  Her family, unusually sympathetic, crept around the house, determined she should not be woken.  Eventually, emerging at about three in the afternoon, Nicola went in search of coffee.  The house was empty apart from her mother whom she found in the kitchen.

 

'Nicky, darling.  Are you feeling more alive?  I've sent the others out for the afternoon.  Come and sit by the fire.  Would you like anything to eat?'

'Just coffee, thanks, Ma.'

She took the steaming cup gratefully and sank into the cosy chair by the fire, looking sadly at the empty space which had always belonged to Tessa, Cousin Jon's afghan hound.  Absent-mindedly she began to chew at the toast her mother placed in front of her, finding that she was, in fact, quite hungry.

 

About an hour later, the telephone rang.  Nicola looked startled by the noise and watched as her mother answered it.

'Yes, Patrick.   Yes, she's just here.  Hold on.'

'It's Patrick.  Do you want to speak to him?'

Nicola nodded slowly and got up to take the receiver.  Mrs Marlow tactfully left the room.

'Hu.. hullo Patrick.'

'How are you, Nick?'

Nicola thought.  'Okay.  A bit tired and… confused.'

'Well, that's not surprising.  Listen, Nick.  I don't want to make a nuisance of myself while you're still finding your feet, but… whenever you're ready, let's go out somewhere, just you and me, and talk, properly.'

'Yes,' she nodded at the phone.  'I'd like that, Patrick.  Soon.'

'Good.  Call me, then.'  He rang off and Nicola stood, holding the receiver, until her mother came back in and took it from her.

 

Two days later, Nicola arranged to meet Patrick.  He collected her from Trennels in his car.

'I've brought plenty of eats so we don't need to hurry.  Unless you've got anything you need to be back for?'  She indicated that she did not.  'Good.  I thought we'd go to a new beach I've found.'

 

They walked along the beach until Nicola said she was tired and hungry.  Patrick produced a rug and a rucksack full of sandwiches and cake and apples and a flask of coffee.  She let him put out the food while she sat, gazing at the waves.

 

'Do you miss it?  Being on the boat, I mean?'

She nodded, surprised.  'Nobody else has asked me that.  They all expect me to be so pleased to be back after my mad adventures.  But the sea was my home, Patrick.  I loved it and it looked after me and being on land again feels all wrong.  They all say I'll get used to it, and I expect I will, but… I don't want to.'

'Why don't we go out tomorrow?  I mean, it won't be the same, but I'd love to come with you.'

Her face lit up.  'Oh yes!  Would you really?'

He nodded, delighted at her enthusiasm.

'Nick,'  he was serious suddenly, taking her hand and turning her to face him, 'I still love you.  More than anything.'

'Oh Patrick.'  She smiled.  'So do I love you.'  He let go her hand and put his arm round her shoulder, pulling her to lean against him.  He bent his head to kiss her.

'Marry me?' he murmured into her ear.

She pulled away.  'Patrick?'

He grinned.  'I mean it.  I never want you to go away from me again.  Marry me, Nick.'

She sat up, drawing her knees up under her chin and staring away into the sea again.

 

'Well?' he prompted after a few minutes.

Then he saw that she was crying.  Never, in all the years he'd known her, had he seen Nicola cry.  He'd supposed she was capable of it, on her own, or perhaps in front of Lawrie.  But not here, like this, practically in public.  He fumbled for a handkerchief to pass her then waited.  Eventually, the tears dried up but still she did not turn to him.

'Is it such a terrible thought?' he teased gently.  She smiled heroically and shook her head.

'No.  Patrick, I wanted you so much.'

Encouraged, he moved closer and put an arm around her waist.  'I'm here now, Nick.'

'Yes.'  She paused.  'Patrick, when I went away I was pregnant.'

He felt as though he'd been kicked in the stomach, hard.

Eventually he regained sufficient breath to say, 'But…'

'Yes, I know all the buts, but I was.  I didn't realise at first.  Dr Burke had put me on the pill, to make things easier while I was away, and he'd said things would take a while to settle into a routine.  And I was so busy with the boat and not really keeping track of time, and suddenly I realised it had been almost 10 weeks.'

'What did you do?'

'I was so afraid, Pat.  I was 2 weeks from land, at least, and even then…'  She blinked furiously and blew her nose determinedly.

'I changed course and headed for Sydney.  I was pretty sick by that stage, too.  Anyway, I got there, found a friendly doctor who confirmed it.  He said he could arrange… if I wanted…'

Patrick started to feel sick.  He forced himself to speak normally.  'And did you?'

She shook her head.  'I couldn't.  I knew you'd hate it if I did and anyway, I couldn't.  But I couldn't carry on, either.  Too dangerous.  If something went wrong I could be weeks and weeks away from help.  So I booked a berth at the marina for a week while I worked out what to do.  I wanted to call you, so much.  I almost did, lots of times.'

'I wish you had,' he spoke fiercely

'Yes.  I think I would have but, after I'd been there two days, I started bleeding.  I went to hospital and they confirmed it.  I'd lost it.'  She turned then, and hid her face in his shirt.  'Our baby, Patrick.'

Automatically, his arms went round her, but he felt numb with shock.  A baby he had not even known about, dead before it was alive.

Suddenly, she looked up in horror.  'Oh Patrick, I'm so sorry.  Telling you like this.  As though it wasn't the most awful news for you too.  Should I have called you from Australia?  Only, after it happened, it was almost as though it never had.  I went back to the boat and the sea and it was only when I saw you again, on Saturday, that I remembered how it felt.'

He looked stiffly at her, in that way he had when he didn't want to feel too much.  She put up a cautious hand to stroke his cheek.  He allowed her to caress him but couldn't find a word to say.  Instead, he leant forward and hid his face in her neck.

Silently grieving, they held onto each other for what felt like hours.

'Come on.  The sea's getting nearer and I'm starving.  Eat something, Nick.'  He was surprised how ordinary his voice sounded.  'It's going to be okay, you know.'

Obediently she ate, not tasting the cheese and pickle or fishpaste he'd brought.

'How are you, now?'

'Fine, I think.  Everything seems to be normal.  The doctor in Australia said it's more common than most people realise and I have a perfectly normal chance of having children in the future.'

'Will you go and see a doctor, Nick?  Please?'  She saw the concern in his face and changed her instinctive protest to consent.

'Good.  So now, back to where we were.  Will you marry me?'

'Do you still want to?'

'Nicola Marlow, you are the bravest, most independent person I have ever met but still you make me feel as though all I want to do is look after you.  You said you wanted me when you were away.  Do you want me now you're here?'

Slowly, a grin spread across her face.  'Yes, I want you, Patrick Merrick, the kindest, most thoughtful person I have ever met.  Yes, please, I will marry you.'

 

As the car pulled up outside Trennels, Patrick turned to face Nicola.

'Pick you up at eight tomorrow?'

She nodded.  'And, Patrick?'

'Mmm?'

'Can we not tell anyone?  Not tonight.  I don't think I'm quite ready for all that… fuss.'

'Oke.'  He leaned across and kissed her cheek lightly then watched as she ran into the house.