Page 79 of The Un-Apparent Heir

“Oh, good idea,” Sanne joked.

Lucy snickered. “Send George. Payback?”

“God, I love that for you. Best idea yet,” Sanne said.

“He’d do it, too. He’s worried about you, Luce. I’ll send staff down.”

Natalie picked up the receiver to buzz the staff. She placed the order while Lucy and Sanne stuffed their faces with cookies.

“They will run one up as soon as they can. The Palace Doctor is in,” Natalie said.

“I don’t need a test, honestly. I’m pregnant—again. What will I do?”

“Same thing I am. Pop out number four and tell him to get a vasectomy?” Sanne asked.

“Brilliant idea, but that assumes we’re going to fuck at all. I’d be happy to never have penetrative sex again.”

“What do you mean?” Natalie asked.

“I am healed, but I still feel pain. My body is an embarrassment. This child tore me all the way across. I am still frightened. And yet? My midwife’s advice was to power through it because it was “all in my head.” And that meant my pain wasn’t real and I had to suck it up. So I did that, didn’t get off, angered my husband, and then burst into tears when he yelled at me. That’s when he said he couldn’t do this anymore and went silent.”

Natalie’s heart broke for her friend. “Lucy, if Ed did that, I would be broken into pieces. I’m so sorry. Your midwife is wrong.”

“There is something wrong in my head for sure.”

“Lucy, it doesn’t matter what is going on. You need help, not dismissiveness. Nothing good comes from soldiering through and hoping it gets better,” Natalie said.

“You should see someone in London while you’re here,” Sanne said. “You had birth trauma. When that happens, you need time for rewiring. Otherwise, your mind and body will shut down all the time.”

“Winston and I have been distant,” Lucy said. “He’s right about that, but I just feel like I am so miserable and useless. I should be happy now. I have everything—healthy children, wealth, a husband who takes care of me—and yet it’s not enough.”

“Does he take care of you?” Natalie asked. “Or does he just provide for you and leave you wanting emotionally?”

The answer was probably too much for Lucy to handle. She didn’t answer.

“Lucy, what do you want?” Sanne asked.

She shrugged.

“Lucy, you know what you want,” Natalie said. “You do. You don’t want to say it.”

“I want to move back. I want to raise our kids together. I want to see you all and laugh. I want to feel important and needed—do something useful. George jokes about needing me around, but he does. You all do. That sounds all uppity, but?—”

“No, it’s not. I need you—more than ever, Luce,” Natalie said.

Sanne nodded. “Same.”

“I know you needed to go. We went our own ways for a bit, but I never thought you would bloody well move to Scotland and never see me again. I always thought you’d come back.”

“I didn’t want to go forever but Winston fell in love with it. He swears it’s the best way to raise our kids. You know I love my babies more than life, so I want the best for them—to give them a childhood I couldn’t even dream of.”

“Lucy, you will solve nothing if your kids see you miserable,” Sanne said.

Lucy looked down at Iona. The baby fell asleep, face smooshed against Lucy’s breast.

“Luce, you are their safe place to land,” Sanne said. “You always will be. But you must take care of yourself.”

“You cannot put an O2 mask on them until you put it on yourself. Land the plane, Lucy. If you cannot land the plane everything else falls apart—you’ll run out of fuel, crash into a mountain, or lose spatial awareness. Your happiness matters. It should be essential to Winston, too. I don’t think he realised how hard things were for you. Maybe now he does? Either way, you belong here. You must make choices, but it’s clear what you want.”

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