‘That was my biggest fear, too. That’s why I want my child to have absolute security. I don’t want him or her to move from home to home. That’s worth the trade-off to me. I truly believe this is the right thing to do.’
Lucille hesitated, topped up her cup of tea. ‘Gabby. Are you sure this is only about the baby?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘You and Zander have spent a lot of time together, and from all you’ve told me you’ve enjoyed that time—are you sure that you don’t have stronger feelings for him?’
Gabby barely even waited for her gran to finish the sentence. ‘I am absolutely sure. Zander is a good man, Gran, but he isn’t my Mr Right.’
Too successful, too good-looking, too overwhelming. She wouldn’t want to love him—she sensed that that way lay a path to doom, a return to neediness and insecurity.
‘Then I will support your choice, even if I don’t agree with it. And I will be the best great-grandmother ever.’
‘I know you will, Gran.’
Bath, the Grosvenor home
Telling his family had been tough, but once they had established that he was planning on being part of the baby’s life they did seem genuinely happy at the idea of an addition to the family.
But then he said, ‘Actually, Gabby and I are getting married.’
Silence greeted the announcement—a silence so profound that annoyance surfaced, came out in his scowl.
‘Don’t all fall over at once congratulating me.’
His parents and Julia exchanged a quick glance, and as if by tacit consent his mum spoke. ‘The thing is, Zander, you haven’t mentioned the word love.’
Damn right, he hadn’t. The word filled him with panic. Love would bring this marriage to its knees—he couldn’t sustain it and didn’t want to contemplate it. But the word also inspired guilt, because Gabby did want love and he couldn’t give it to her.
‘Gabby and I want what is best for the baby, and we like each other... We get on. There is no reason why it shouldn’t work.’
‘There are at least a dozen reasons I can think of,’ Julia interjected. ‘God knows, Zander, I think a child should have a father...’ Her voice was touched with a seldom-acknowledged sadness; her husband had decided the whole family gig was too much for him and absconded over the horizon. ‘But you can have joint custody—you will still be part of its life.’
‘Not in the same way.’ Zander turned to his parents. ‘Tell me you approve.’
Laura and Frank exchanged looks. They had one of those telepathic methods of communication that seemed to be a product of all their years together.
Laura spoke. ‘Darling, we will support whatever you choose to do, but I don’t think I do appro
ve. I want you to marry for love.’
‘Dad?’
‘I always hoped you’d find love again, Zander. I understand why you’re doing this, but I believe you and Gabby can and will be fantastic parents whether you get married or not. We will welcome both Gabby and the baby into our family, regardless of your marital status.’
Zander looked around the table, then rose to his feet. It was time to go. In this instance his family was wrong. It was as simple as that.
‘I love you all, but I want to be there for my baby as much as possible—and that means marriage.’
A few days later
Gabby surveyed her breakfast without appetite or enthusiasm and told herself that sugar-free muesli was good for the baby, who could not, after all, survive on pickled eggs alone. And she needed to hurry up. Zander would be here at any minute to take her on a day out—though he’d declined to say any more than that. Told her it was a surprise.
She spooned up the last unappetising mouthful and patted her tummy. ‘Maybe there will be pickled eggs later, baby.’
As she finished speaking the doorbell heralded Zander’s arrival. Gabby opened the door and her tummy looped the loop—was she really going to marry a man who did this to her?
Zander smiled at her. ‘Ready to go?’