Sowing The Seeds Of Love Part 9

'No, thank you, Aoife.' Mrs Prendergast still didn't allow any of them into her home. They had to use the toilet in the Good Food Store, apart from Liam and Kathy who were allowed to go in the nettles, tinkling and squatting accordingly. 'I suppose you want a mug of that revolting coffee,' she said to Seth.

'That'd be marvellous, Mrs P.'

'Stop calling me that.'

'Well, if you insist on not telling me your name...'

Mrs Prendergast snorted as she walked off to prepare their elevenses.

'She loves me really.' Seth grinned.

'You know, I'm beginning to think she does. She just hasn't realized it yet.'

He recommenced hammering the archway into place, Aoife handing him nails at intervals, working in silence. She was reminded again of how much she enjoyed his presence in the garden. Just to watch the way he carried out his tasks. To be with him. After a time, she sat on the ground, her arms wrapped around her knees. She wanted to know more about him.

'Kathy seems a very well-adjusted little girl.'

Instinctively Seth looked across at his daughter, who appeared to be teaching Liam how to make daisy chains. She took the lead in most of their games. 'She's great.'

'She's a credit to you and her mother.'

He shrugged. 'Thanks. She's a tough little thing, really. She's been through a lot.'

'Like what?' Aoife instantly wished she could take it back. She didn't know how far she could push it. Seth seemed such an odd mixture of confidence and reticence. He was standing upright now, his hands on his hips. He looked at Aoife as if he was working out whether or not he could trust her.

'You know her mother and I are separated?'

'No, I didn't. I thought... well, no, I didn't know.'

There was a silence. Seth appeared to be examining the mud on his boots.

'Does she see her mother?'

'Oh, yes. G.o.d, yes. She spends part of the week with her and part of it with me. It's just a bit confusing for Kathy at the moment.'

'Is there another '

'Tea, everybody!'

18.

It was quite a burden being an Irish teenager called Seth Rosenberg in the 1980s. He kind of stood out among the Seamus Brennans and the Paddy Moloneys. But his bald p.e.n.i.s gave him rarity value in his twenties.

Seth liked girls and they liked him. He didn't know why this should be so, but he was glad it was. He had been accused more than once of having 'a way with the laydeez'. He didn't know about that. All Seth knew was that he was himself and that seemed to work. His sense of security came from several sources, not least his parents' unshakeable, immovable, unstoppable love for him. His mother adored her two boys with every ounce of her considerable being. Although Seth knew that it was him she loved best. Maybe his brother felt that too. It was a thought that had only occurred to him of late as had many other previously unthought-of thoughts. He supposed that was what happened when your world got turned on its head.

His relations.h.i.+p with his father had been more turbulent. While his mother's love was pure indulgence, Uri's love was born of discipline he was determined that his sons would make something of themselves. Although as it became obvious that Seth would never travel down an academic route, he had had the wisdom to let him go his own way, serving his apprentices.h.i.+p as a gardener and eventually building up his own successful landscaping business.

Growing up, Seth had found his father's dark moods oppressive and had had to get away from him. Neither broody nor introspective himself, he couldn't handle either trait in another.

And he didn't want to think about it.

But as he'd got older, he'd deepened in understanding and his impatience with his father's faith had matured into respect.

So. His parents' love. His innate likeability. His popularity with women. The knowledge he'd had since boyhood that he wanted to work with plants. The successful realization of his ambition. It could have been said that Seth had led a charmed life. Of course he'd had his bad days. But, really, they were few and far between.

Seth was twenty-nine when he met Megan. He fell hard harder than he would have thought possible. He'd a.s.sumed he'd been in love before but now he understood that he'd only ever been in l.u.s.t. He'd said, 'I love you,' several times. He hadn't meant to lie to those women, but the moment he met Megan, he knew he'd been lying all along. She was pure, golden, unadulterated gorgeousness. She bowled him over.

The night they met had seemed inauspicious enough. He'd been in the pub with the lads. She was the friend of a friend of somebody's girlfriend. The link was tenuous, but enough to merit an introduction. He'd wanted to say something to make her laugh but he'd sat there like a fool. She had been kind, bailing him out, asking him questions about himself until he'd regained the power of speech. But he'd never really recovered. Not from Megan.

They'd got married almost two years to the day after their first meeting. As he watched her walk up the aisle towards him, he felt as if his heart was going to explode.

Had it all been a lie?

'It's so nice living with your best friend,' said Megan. She was sitting up in bed, propped up against Seth's pillow and her own. They weren't long back from their honeymoon one of their first weekends of married life. She was watching Seth as he shaved in the en-suite. He stopped sc.r.a.ping the white foam off his jawline with his new razor and gazed back at the reflection in the mirror. She looked so incredibly contented. He padded out to her, fresh from his shower, white towel draped around his waist, and stood over her, dripping foam. 'Am I your best friend?' he asked.

'You know you are.' She patted the s.p.a.ce beside her and he sat down on the edge of the bed.

'You're my best friend too and I love living with you,' he said.

She smiled at him and he admired her adorable dimples.

'G.o.d, you're gorgeous,' he said, reaching to stroke her cheek. She leaned her face into his palm. He still couldn't believe at times that he was permitted to touch her. But he was. He even had the papers to prove it. He wiped the rest of his shaving foam off with the edge of his towel and bent to kiss her mouth, softly at first. Then he cupped her face with his hands and kissed her deeply. He opened his eyes just in time to see her look of panic. And even if he hadn't seen it, he'd felt her pull back. 'What's wrong?'

'Nothing.'

'Don't you want...?'

'It's not that. It's just that I've planned a special breakfast for you.'

'We can have it later.'

'I'm starving.' She flung back the covers and sprang out of bed. He watched as she put on her dressing-gown and drew the belt tight around her waist. 'I'm making bacon and scrambled eggs. Your favourite. And freshly squeezed orange juice.'

'Sounds great.'

She kissed his cheek and he listened to her dainty clop-clopping down the stairs. She was right. They were best friends.

Except he already had a best friend. His name was Barry and he'd known him since he was six. But he didn't want to have s.e.x with Barry. He wanted to have s.e.x with his wife. But he was beginning to form the distinct impression that his wife didn't want to have s.e.x with him.

They'd abstained before marriage. He felt stupid admitting it now. It had been her idea. 'Imagine how special our wedding night will be,' she'd said.

And he had gone along with it. Because he would have done anything for Megan to keep her happy. To keep her. But the wedding night had come and gone and he had yet to see a marked change in her response. Sure, they did it sometimes, but he always had to initiate it and, hard as he tried, he could never shake the feeling that she was just letting him do things to her. It didn't feel as if they were doing it together. Making love. He would have laughed once at this phrase, but now he understood. He loved her. She loved him. What was the problem?

A couple of months into their marriage, he decided to broach the subject. They were in bed. Seth was lying on his side, propped up on his elbow, his head resting in his palm. Megan was sitting bolt upright as he ran his fingers delicately up and down her forearm. She looked almost virginal in her white nightgown. 'Is something wrong, Meg?'

She looked surprised. 'Wrong? No. What do you mean?'

'You never seem to want to have s.e.x.' He tried carefully to read the expression on her face. Uncomfortable, maybe. As if she wished he wouldn't bring up such a distasteful matter.

'We do have s.e.x.'

'Yes, but not very often. And I feel like I'm I don't know forcing you or something.'

'That's just silly.'

'Maybe it is. But that's the way I feel.'

Neither said anything for a while. He noticed she'd pulled her arm away. 'Don't you fancy me any more?' He hated himself for saying it, feeling pathetic and unmanly.

Megan rolled her eyes. 'Of course I do.' She sounded almost angry. Her tone, her body language screamed, 'Go away.'

'Did something happen to you?'

'What do you mean?'

'When you were younger, did something traumatic happen to you? Did someone hurt you?'

'Oh, don't be so ridiculous, Seth. You're blowing this way out of proportion.'

Was he? He couldn't tell. 'Am I?'

'Yes, you are. Look. As a man, your libido is stronger than mine, that's all. You naturally want it more than I do. It's perfectly normal. Probably all husbands feel the same way.'

Did they? Perhaps. He allowed himself to be soothed, wanting to believe it, although a niggle of doubt remained.

'Now, come here and give me a cuddle.' She pulled him close to her so that his head was resting on her chest. More cuddling. 'Do you realize how lucky we are, Seth, to have each other? I don't know any other girls who get on so well with their husbands or boyfriends. I mean, we do everything together.'

It was true. They did. Except...

'And there's no one else I'd rather spend my time with.'

'Me neither.' It was true. There wasn't.

'So let's just appreciate what we have.' She stroked his hair.

She was right as usual. Seth lay there and did his best to feel appreciative. Although mostly he just felt h.o.r.n.y.

Then, the following month, something happened that changed things drastically. They were eating out one night, on the occasion of Megan's twenty-ninth birthday. Seth had ordered champagne. He watched his wife as she sparkled across the table. They were waiting for their dessert to arrive when she covered his hand with her own. He felt a surge of happiness at her touch. 'Seth,' she said. 'I've been doing a lot of thinking lately.'

'Oh, yeah. About what?'

'Well, I think it might be time,' she paused to take a sip of champagne, 'for us to try for a baby.'

'What?' Seth was astonished. He hadn't seen that one coming.

'A baby, Seth. You heard what I said. What do you think?' Her voice was gentle but her eyes were full of concern.

'Jesus, Megan! Of all the things to spring on me!'

'You can't be that surprised. We've talked about it before. You said you wanted kids.'

'I do, I do. Some day. Not right away.'

'Why not?'

'We're barely married. We still have loads of things to get for the house '

'You think furniture's more important than a family?'

'No! No, of course not. I didn't mean that. I just mean what's the big rush all of a sudden?'

'It's not a "big rush".'

He was p.i.s.sing her off. He could tell.

'I suppose it's because I'm twenty-nine now. It's made me think. I can see thirty looming. The younger a woman has her babies, the better it is for her physically.'

Babies! They had gone from baby to babies in under a minute. How many sprogs did the woman want?

'I just don't see the point in waiting,' she continued. 'We have each other, we're married, we have our house. We're both bringing in an income.'

She was making perfect sense, of course. As usual. He smiled at her and covered her small, perfect, feminine hand with his big calloused one. 'I suppose I was hoping to keep you to myself for as long as possible.'

Megan smiled, sensing victory. 'You'll still have me,' she said. 'I'm not going anywhere.'

'When do you want to start trying?'

'Tonight if you like.'

That sealed the deal.

From that night on, everything became wonderful and rose-coloured in Seth's world. The one thing that had been missing from his life, he now had. The sight of his wife bouncing up and down on top of him, milky b.r.e.a.s.t.s jiggling, hair flying, became a common occurrence. He couldn't get enough of her. He felt as if he'd struck gold. At last he had a willing partic.i.p.ant. When she wasn't having s.e.x with him, she was reading books about fertility, most favourable positions, foods to eat. She even had him taking zinc tablets, one a day, every morning with his breakfast. She made him laugh, supervising him like a hospital matron. He wasn't allowed to carry his mobile in his front pocket any more. And he was under strict instructions not to put his laptop on his lap. Something about heating up the t.e.s.t.i.c.l.es. He was glad enough to go along with it all, just as he always did everything in his power to make Megan happy.

His best mate pulled him up on it. They were having a drink one night, in what used to be their local. Seth had just told Barry still a bachelor and proud of it that they were trying for a baby. 'So you could be looking at a daddy before long.'

'Is that really what you want?'

'Of course it's what I want.'

'Who came up with the idea?'