Page 26 of This is Where I Leave You

Luke was at his apartment door before he even realised he had left Cady’s doorstep. His mind was a swirl of emotions, most of those emotions involving striding up to that posh twat Marcus and punching him in his smug, moisturised face.

He just didn’t like the guy, and if they were seeing each other, where was he? He never came to the house and Luke had never heard Cady talk on the phone with him. In fact during their time together she never mentioned Marcus at all. What kind of name was Marcus anyway? Luke snorted to himself, turning the key to his home.

He was just taking advantage of Cady, hopefully she was see that before he had a chance to bond with the baby. When Luke thought of the baby a warm feeling spread throughout his body, he couldn’t wait to meet the little person who had already made a dent on his heart, and he hoped he would at least get to do that once. It seemed that once the baby was born, they would become a little family, and that left Luke right where he started, except he felt like a completely different person than he did a few short months ago. Dumping his rucksack down on the hook by the door, he walked through to the open plan kitchen, clicking the answering machine and coffee machine buttons as he went.

As the aroma of rich roasted filled the apartment, which was a welcome change from the smell of paint and canvases, he thumbed through his post, listening as the gallery’s administrator gave him the final details for the exhibition. The Hepworth was showing his work that very weekend, and this was Luke’s big break. He had been working for months in his spare time, which had been even harder since he couldn’t seem to tear himself away from Cady at all.

The second message jolted his mind back to the machine as Vicky’s nasally whining tones came across the answering machine.

“Lukey baby, you haven’t been answering my calls, I hope you are not angry that I spoke to your client, but she needed to know where she stood. Call me, we need to talk.”

Luke face palmed and groaned loudly. Jesus Christ, no wonder Cady acted like she did! He decided to go round the following day, and drag her along to the gallery showing if he had to. Once she was there, he felt sure he could make her understand. Then he remembered Marcus and his heart sank. They would be going to the scan together, and then probably spending the weekend together, polishing his Mercedes or going to the Oprah, if Marcus chose. He just couldn’t see Cady with him anymore then he could believe she was married to Richard. The pictures he had seen of him made him think that he was a bit posh too, a bit stuffy. Cady was the opposite, she just needed to realise it for herself. Sighing, he poured a big cup of coffee and sat down before the canvas in front of his stool. Staring at the white screen, he realised that he wouldn’t talk to Cady, he would leave her. She had made her choice, Marcus was like Richard and maybe that WAS what she wanted, and he could never compete with the salary, not till the commissions started coming in, if they ever did.

He took a huge glug of the strong brew and reached for his brush. He had one more piece to finish for the showing. The brush however, had other ideas. As his fingers reached for the handle, it quivered. Jumped twice, quivered again, and then dipped itself into the blue paint. Luke stared at the blue paint pot in horror. He sniffed his coffee and went to pour it down the drain. Great, he thought, caffeine, heartbreak and no sleep add up to a crazy artiste. He refilled his cup and taking a hesitant breath, reached out a shaking hand towards the brush. It jumped again. He grabbed the brush and squeaked out a yelp as it headed for the canvas, taking his arm with it.

“What! Ahh!”

The brush swirled and looped. Luke could only stare at his own hand being moved by unseen forces, blue paint flecks flicking off in all directions with the urgency of the movements. His hand stopped and the brush fell to the floor. Snatching his hand back, he stared at the pattern the paint had made.

Fight for her.

“What?” Luke’s eyes bulged. His spine was ice cold and he felt hot and sick. His ears were ringing in his head. Looking at the ceiling of his apartment, he softly asked, “For Cady?”

The brush jumped up from the floor, swirling on the canvas once more.

Yes, fight for her. Fight for them both.

Luke struggled to get breath even to speak.

“Richard?”

YES! Fight for her, NOW.

The brush dropped to the floor, splattering paint on his black jeans. He jumped as a bang resounded behind him. His rucksack had dropped, or been pulled off the hook, his gallery flyers were scattered across the floor.

Luke ran both hands through his hair.

“Ok Richard, I get it.”

He smiled at the ceiling. He was either crazy, or the dead husband of the woman he loved had just given him a kick up the backside.

CHAPTER 23

Georgina squinted against the Parisian sun and stuffed another pain au chocolat into her slightly expanding face. The last few days in France had been amazing; Magda was a brilliant friend now rather than an employee, and she was so excited about that baby that George had been swept up by the excitement too, and now she couldn’t wait till the baby came in March. She had visions of her and Cady round the Christmas table with Magda, pulling crackers, George with her bump and Cady with her little baby. She had never really had a family scene like that before, unorthodox as it was, and she felt…content. Work seemed like a million miles away, and for once, she was glad about that. Her boss had caved to her demands and practically kissed her feet with relief that she wasn’t leaving altogether. He had agreed that she could work from home and come to meetings a couple of times a month, and had worked with her on the no more travel clause too. George felt that she could probably travel a little for work, once she was in a routine. Magda would come too, and they could make a holiday out of it. It would be lovely for her baby to be a globe trotter, and a welcome change from her previous life in hotels. She realised now how lonely she had felt, but now she had a new life to worry about, and she was going to do the best for her child, no matter what.

She had e-mailed her parents to tell them about the baby, she contained no details about the father, just that she was happy and would continue to work. She had her response two days later, when a delivery man from Kiddicare showed up with the deluxe baby shower package, complete with stuffed toys and breast pump. The note said, “Plane tickets here when you want them darling, get Junior a passport. Much love, Mummy and Daddy.”

Magda was incensed and swore in her native tongue for a few days every time she passed the huge basket, which took up half of the newly decorated nursery. George however, felt it was a huge step for her parents to want her to visit, and she kept the note in her bedside table, the first scrap of her parents she had kept for years. The next day, she went to the post office and got a passport application form, placing the paperwork next to the note.

Becoming aware that Magda was staring at her, she reached for her tea cup and brushed the pastry crumbs from her lips.

“You is so happy, Georgina, it pleases me so. Why you want do this? Only upset yourself, seeing that pig again.”

Magda turned her head to the right, spitting onto the pavement at the word pig, making a French man wobble on his bike as he passed. The street café was a block from Ben’s office, and as today was the self imposed deadline that George had set herself, they were sat outside fuelling up before battle. Magda had called the office that morning pretending to be a prospective client and ascertained that Ben would be in the office all afternoon. They had a fake appointment at 2pm, and it was 1.35pm now.

Finishing up their lunch, they walked in silence to the offices of Marshall & Marshall. Magda kept casting furtive side glances at her pregnant friend, worried about the toll this encounter would take on her. She, like Cady, realised that for all her independence and inner fire, George was really a frightened girl underneath, never having quite got over the abandonment of her parents. And here she was, fighting for a father for her unborn child, who had been cast aside before even meeting each other.

She reached out to grab the door for her, as a man on the other side pushed his way through. They both started to apologise to each other, till Magda caught George’s shocked expression and stopped talking. The man, immaculately dressed in a smart suit, was arm in arm with a very slim, very stylish dark haired woman. Ben’s own face dropped to the floor when he saw her standing there, and before they could react, he simply steered the woman hurriedly into a waiting limo, and they were gone. George felt the woman’s eyes appraise her momentarily before dismissing her as no threat. Magda just managed to catch George as she fainted and hit the floor.

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