"You're going to have two children. A boy and a girl." Elsie told me confidently.
I didn't question it. Apart from the fact it was my homework she was doing.
I wasn't patient enough to sew as intricately as she did.
I was going to be a postmodern expressionist. I wouldn't need sewing skills.
"Every couple should have someone who can mend and sew, that's what makes a happy marriage." My mum told us, bringing in our supper tray.
Elsie stopped the thread from turning above my palm and carried on sewing her clown circles.
Hot chocolate filling our nostrils, as it cooled by the chair.
The night before Elsie had made me laugh so much - just as I'd taken a mouthful of the chocolatey liquid - and the specks of it were still all over my pajamas.
"They'll last you just one more night." Mum had said "Til I do the next wash."
"What about you?" I asked Elsie,she sat with her skinny legs curled under her nightie, blonde hair tied back tight in a pony tail. "How many are you having?"
She shrugged.
"Doesn't work on yourself. The needle didn't move anyway."
I turn away from the rain splattered window, and the cemetry beyond.The car sighs into ignition and I turn carefullly out of the driveway.
There aren't many people around. I often wondered what would happen if everyone decided to visit their loved ones at the same time, crowding round the graves to discuss their own mislaid plans. As I had mine today.
Looking for the advise I had always relied on her for.
Mum had said that plans were fine in principle, but you should be ready to throw them out of the window the minute labour started.
I'd had to do that twice.
I guessed the same principle could be applied to anything.Things always took you by surprise,like Pete. I had trusted him.
But things happened for a reason. He was so impractical.
Nothing actually changed after he'd gone.I missed the idea and convenience of having a partner, rather than the actuality of it.
I flicked the right indicator on, with heightened awareness of the minutae of the day.
Cars seemed to glide by in slow motion and I saw the faces inside them; gestures and expressions. I noticed the tiny flecks of sun rays climbing out of the clouds and hitting the top most point of the iron gate, winking, winking.
The puddles on the gravelled drive and tarmac road glistened with jewels, then went dull again.
We'd never got married.
I'd waited too long for him to ask me.I guess he was never going to.
I wondered what mattered when you were lying in the grave.
I went over the text again,in my head,feeling the swirling of blood inside, like a slowly gathering wave, unsure of direction.
Was gr8 2 c u this morn. U looked stunning in summer dress with hair up. Think Charmaine's mum noticed I couldn't take my I's off u.x
I turned left, flick, flick, flick, into Yewtree Crescent.
I was early picking up George and Lainie, but I'd wait for a while outside school. Decide how I'd react when I saw her.
She'd been late recently, or used the other gate. I'd thought it was strange, how she didn't wait for me anymore. How she had hung her dark head down, looking at her patterned tights and cut off denimns.
I thought she'd begun to smell of wine. There'd been a bottle open the last tme I went round for a coffee at 10.30 a.m.
Were there two glasses?
She had trained to be a cardiologist.
Her house was not clinical, but immaculate, tasteful, full of children. She'd been telling me for a while she wasn't happy with Jason. They'd had problems since his car accident. She'd found it too much to cope with.We were the only couple at school she'd invited to her 40th birthday party.To say thank you, she'd said, for all our support.
But I didn't see hide nor hair when Pete left, not of her anyway.She'd become gradually more distant.
Jason began picking up the children from school, though she didn't work. I thought he was a good husband, indulging her, trying to do all he could to get back on his feet. He did everything around the house - the mending, the repairing.I couldn't understand the way she treated him.She was always complaining about him.
After the first text she'd forwarded she'd sent me several more.
Of course, she must have realised,I had already read them several times before.
'I think you've got it all wrong.I haven't loved her for a long time - it's u. Pls can we meet.xx'
My heart stopped after that one. No matter how many times I read it.
It brought back the paranoia, the guilt and the futility of those early days.
I'd always stayed clear of other peoples' dramas until now. Always planned for a peaceful life.
The rain had stopped completely now, the sun blinding my wing mirror as I glanced to see who had pulled up behind me.It was a familair grey Yaris.
The swirling and tugging in my stomach started again.
Angry, I pushed the door open and stepped out onto the newly laid pavement. The roadworks of which had kept us in turmoil for parking, these last few weeks, leaving smuges of whitened cement across the pavestones, now flattened and like an iron had steamed out all the cracks and creases.
I waited by the car, trying to look neutral, my goose-pricked fresh completely alert.
We fell into silent step, heads bowed and watching eachothers' feet, as we entered the black, wrought iron gates of the school. Not wanting to draw attention to ourselves.
"Have you been to see your mum today?" He asked.
"Laid her down some yellow roses."I smiled. "I always used to buy them for her birthday." I exhaled , puffing out my cheeks and slipping my mobile out of my pocket.
"What do you know about these?" I asked him.
I showed him the texts I'd been forwarded, scrolling through, them one by one, watching his face failing to register a change.
"She's taken my mobile." Was all he said.
'So, what's the plan?' I asked eventually.
I allowed his fingers to brush my palm and hand, lightly.
Only Charmaine's mum, always first to arrive, waiting outside the classroom, folded black brolly in hand. She looked at us, smiling uncertainly before looking to some spot beyond us in mock oblivion.
I didn't feel guilty. I knew I could look after him better. I knew he would treat me better than Pete.
I had told Elsie that morning.
"They've been split for a while haven't they?" She asked me, over her steaming cup of hot chocolate, blowing the rising smoke toward me.
"She left him six months ago - but I think she's been planning to go back to him." I sighed.
"Am I making a fool of myself?"I asked him softly, daring to glance just slightly too long at his rugged profile. Wondering what would happen now.
It had been a year since Pete had been gone.
I wasn't one for surreptitious romances, sneaky moments - trying not to arouse suspicion.
He turned to me fully then. Parents beginning to arrive and fill up the playground.
"I'm in it for the long term.Rachel and I have been over for a long time."He smiled. "If you'll have me."
"That all depends."I smiled, taking his rough hand into my shaking palm and wrapping it up tight.
"On what?" He frowned lightly.
"Can you sew?"
