A Good Catch Part 22

She caught sight of her reflection in the long mirror on the landing. There were unpleasant marks on the s.h.i.+rt she'd just changed into and her hair could do with a trip to the hairdresser's, but so what, she told herself. She was a mum and proud to bear the battle scars.

Mickey called up the stairs, 'What you having to drink, Loveday?'

'Big mug of tea.' She laughed at the sight of herself. 'I'll be two minutes.'

When she got downstairs, Greer was giving Freddie his bottle.

'Sorry about that,' said Loveday. 'Now let's have a proper look at you both. I've missed you.'

She bent to kiss Greer's proffered cheek and sat down next to her. 'How are you? I'm so sorry that you had such a bad time.'

Greer looked fabulous, despite having been so ill. Her hair and make-up were understated but effective, her figure trim and her clothes unsullied. 'I'm a lot better. How about you?'

'Oh, as you can see ...' Loveday held her hands out to show off the chaos of the cottage. 'Just the same.'

Greer smiled.

Mickey came in from the kitchen. 'Gla.s.s of wine for you, Greer, and a cup of tea for my darling wife.'

Loveday took her mug gratefully. 'I think this'll be the first hot cup of tea I've managed all day.'

'Would you like a hold of Freddie?' asked Greer, putting his bottle aside and reaching for the gla.s.s Mickey was proffering.

Jesse put a hand to his mouth involuntarily. 'Loveday's got a hot drink in her hand,' he said.

'She can put it down,' smiled Greer reasonably.

Loveday felt caught under the expectant, innocent eyes of Greer and Mickey and the unmistakably hard eyes of Jesse.

'Here you are,' said Greer, handing Freddie over. 'This is your auntie Loveday.' Loveday took Freddie in her arms and looked quickly at Jesse, who was pulling at his upper lip, his eyes on the carpet. 'In actual fact,' Greer continued, 'I want her to be more than your auntie.' She beamed at Loveday. 'I want her to be your G.o.dmummy.'

Loveday didn't know what to say, but it didn't matter because Greer was still talking. 'And, I want you, Mickey, to be G.o.ddaddy.'

Mickey was shocked with happiness at this honour. 'Oh my! Well, that's just wonderful. I accept.' He pumped Jesse's arm and then hugged him for good measure. 'Ain't that marvellous, Loveday?'

Loveday was staring into little Freddie's face and saw a look, a fleeting look, of Hal. No, no it couldn't be. They were not brothers. They weren't. She'd been mistaken. She was feeling clammy and wanted to get Freddie out of her arms. Mickey obliged. 'Come and have a cuddle with your uncle Mickey.' He took Freddie, freeing Loveday to get to her feet. 'Excuse me, I must look at the fish pie.'

'Hang on,' said Mickey, stopping her. 'I want to ask something of you, Greer, and you, Jesse.'

Loveday knew instantly what was coming.

'I haven't had a chance to run this past Loveday yet.' He put his arm round her shoulder. 'But I know she will be wanting the same thing.' He left a small but dramatic pause. 'My wife and I would be honoured if you would both be G.o.dparents to our Hal.'

'It would be our pleasure,' smiled Greer. 'Wouldn't it, Jesse?' She looked over to where he sat, motionless.

Loveday could barely breathe.

Jesse looked at Mickey, still cradling Freddie; he looked at Greer, waiting expectantly. Finally he looked into Loveday's eyes. 'Yes. It would be an honour. I am proud to accept.'

Greer took her gla.s.s in her hand and raised it. 'To our sons, who will grow together like brothers.'

Upstairs, Hal opened his eyes and his lungs and screamed.

Apart from Hal screaming and Freddie sleeping like an angel, Greer drinking wine because she was bottle-feeding and Loveday having to stick to tea because she wasn't, the little supper party was more or less enjoyable.

Jesse dealt with his inner turmoil by drinking too much beer and Mickey matched him out of the sheer joy at their being all together again.

The fish pie was complimented and the pudding of arctic roll and tinned peaches was welcomed as an old favourite. Even Greer had a spoonful.

Loveday told Mickey to get everyone settled in the lounge while she brewed up a pot of coffee and cleared the table. The babies were finally sleeping. Hal in his cot upstairs and Freddie in his car seat on the rug.

Alone in the kitchen, Loveday took a moment to release the tension of the evening. She stood at the sink, clutching the cold enamel and staring out into the dark of the back garden. She could see the reflection of the room behind her in the gla.s.s. Mickey so happy and so unweighted by any of the guilt that burdened her. Greer so pretty and so b.l.o.o.d.y perfect.

Jesse, so ... f.u.c.king annoyingly gorgeous. She knew Mickey was a much better person than Jesse; she knew she was so unbelievably lucky to have him, his unconditional love, and her beautiful Hal. But her mind and her body were saying different things; she just could not help that feeling of pure desire that surged through her whenever she saw Jesse bleddy Behenna.

She saw him bend his head to hear something Greer was saying, then he stood and came towards the kitchen, towards Loveday. She didn't turn round.

'Loveday?'

She turned the taps on and squeezed a healthy stream of was.h.i.+ng-up liquid into the bowl. 'Yeah?'

'Do you have any sweeteners ... for Greer's coffee.'

She turned and pointed to the shelf next to the cooker. 'If I've got any they'll be on there.'

She concentrated on picking up a wine gla.s.s and was.h.i.+ng it carefully in the suds.

'Nope. Can't see any,' he said, stepping back to stand next to her.

'Sorry.' She rinsed the gla.s.s under the cold tap.

Still he stood next to her. 'You OK?' he asked quietly.

'Yeah.' She pulled a face. 'Why wouldn't I be?'

'I looked at Hal tonight and can see only you in him,' Jesse said.

'That's because he's mine,' Loveday said firmly.

'And Mickey's?' Jesse asked.

'And Mickey's.'

He still didn't move. She picked up another gla.s.s and began was.h.i.+ng it with a little more vigour than last time.

'Good,' he said.

'Yeah. Good.' Her hands stopped in the soapy water and she looked at Jesse intently. 'Hal is Mickey's and Freddie is yours, and that's that.'

22.

Spring 1996 In the light morning mist, Jesse could see the white brick of the day marker on the cliffs cupping the entrance to Trevay's harbour. For almost two centuries it had guided the fisherman to safety.

The engine of The Lobster Pot chugged rea.s.suringly at just over ten knots. The sea was choppy and a cackle of seagulls followed the churning wake, hoping for a breakfast of fish gut and t.i.tbits.

Jesse was at the wheel. Over the last two years Edward had slowly handed the role of skipper to his son and now hardly ever came out on the boat. Not that he didn't want to. He was a victim of the success of the merger between the Behenna and the Clovelly families, and spent almost all his working hours office-bound.

Jesse knew his father and father-in-law would be pleased with the latest catch. The hold was br.i.m.m.i.n.g with the best the sea could offer. He counted his blessings.

His own boat.

Money coming in.

A son he adored.

A marriage that was happy enough.

A secret that was safe.

The longer time went on, the more he began to feel sure that the moment of madness that he and Loveday had shared would never be discovered. He and she had buried it deeply. They never spoke of it. Anyway, Hal was a dead ringer for Loveday. Reddish hair, still plump. While blond, wiry Freddie looked every inch a Behenna. Everyone commented on it.

Loveday and Mickey were happy and were now expecting twins. Jesse had cried when he'd heard. He covered it up as joy but really it was envy. He would love more children but he couldn't risk asking Greer. Risk her health. Risk the wrath of his father-in-law, who never let him forget that he would be nothing without Greer.

The only piece of grit in the oyster was Grant. Sometimes Jesse was certain Grant knew something. Snide comments. Quips with a sting.

Once, when he and Mickey had taken the boys down to the harbour to look at the boats and to give their mums a rest, they had run into Grant. He was on leave and was on his way back from the pub. He wasn't drunk, but he'd obviously had a couple, Jesse could tell from his swagger and the taunt in his voice.

'Well, well. What a stroke of luck running into you two, out with my two little nephews oops, sorry, just one nephew, isn't it?'

Grant bent down and ticked the chins of the two boys in their respective buggies. He pulled a face and little Hal laughed.

'Funny thing is, if you didn't know better, you might think these two little 'uns were related,' Grant said, through narrowed eyes.

Jesse stiffened but Mickey interjected and said pointedly: 'They'll be like real blood brothers who can rely on each other like me and Jesse.'

Grant let out a guffaw. 'Bleddy blood brothers! Be careful what you wish for, Mickey boy.'

With a raised eyebrow he went on his way, but it was the same whenever he saw Freddie and Hal toddling together. Playing together. Thank G.o.d he wasn't home very often.

The next time he'd seen Grant, Jesse had challenged him.

'Why do you keep saying stupid stuff about Hal and Freddie?'

Grant smirked. 'You tell me.'

'If you've got something to say, just say it.'

'I think it's you who's got something to say.'

'I haven't got anything to say.'

'Well that's all right then, isn't it?' Grant gave him one of his trademark sly grins and Jesse had to fight down the urge not to wipe it off his face.

Grant had been away for a few months now, somewhere in the Middle East. Apparently he was doing well and had been involved in a successful raid on insurgents. Or at least that's what he'd told their mum in one of his infrequent phone calls home.

Jesse pulled his thoughts back to the present. Nothing had been said. Nothing was going to be said. His secret was safe. Dead and buried. He concentrated on heading The Lobster Pot safely into Trevay.

Our Mermaid, Mickey's dad's boat, was already tied up alongside, its catch unloaded.

Jesse expertly manoeuvred himself next to him.

'All right, Jesse?' called Alfie Chandler.

''Andsome!' replied Jesse. 'Mickey in yet?'

'He's about an hour away. Got a cracking catch, he told me.'

'Yeah. He was gloating on the radio last night.' Jesse laughed, throwing a rope up to his deckhand on the quay. 'Ever since he started skippering Crabline, he's turned into the Midas of the ocean!'

'It was good of your dad to let him have a boat.'

'Mickey's like family, isn't he?' bantered Jesse.

'Aye. Like those two boys of yorn. Might as well be brothers.' Alfie chuckled cheerfully.

A thread of fear dropped into Jesse's stomach. First Grant. And now Alfie.

'What do you mean?' he said a bit too sharply.

Alfie was surprised. 'Well, born on the same day and that, and you and Mickey growing up together. He's more a brother to you than Grant, ain't he?'

Jesse pulled himself together. 'Oh, yeah, yeah. I see what you mean.' He should be less sensitive. It was only his own jitters.

Alfie remembered something. 'Oh, nearly forgot, your dad's looking for you. He's in Mr Clovelly's office. He said if I saw you to tell you to go and see him straight away.'