returned to him just wanting what his parents had. And now what his brother had. Gary’s eldest was five and they’d added to their brood with a little girl, who was now one. Carl adored them and credited them with one of the many reasons to stay sober.
‘Can I ask you something?’ Lara said. ‘You might think it’s a bit invasive.’
‘Sure. I’ll tell you if it is!’
‘Did you and Janey not have children because of your drinking?’
‘Good question,’ Carl answered. If someone had told him on his wedding day that in the future he would be discussing his ‘first wife’ with another woman while lying in bed next to her naked form, would he have still gone through with the wedding, saving himself all that pain? He turned to Lara. ‘I think kids didn’t happen partly because of my drinking and partly because Janey had a miscarriage, then died before she got pregnant again.’
‘Oh, God, Carl. I am so so sorry. I had no idea. I shouldn’t have asked.’ Her voice wavered, full of emotion.
‘Hey, of course you didn’t know. That’s why we ask questions when we’re at the beginning. I have a messy past. It’s part of me and I have to honour it. Janey’s part of that past…’ So far he’d found out Lara had two brothers who worked in Spain. They owned a speedboat business. Her mum and dad were divorced and her dad also lived out in Spain, not far from the boys. Lara had a degree in journalism but when she graduated she could only find a job on fashion web sites. The more traditional graduate training schemes were tough to get on to. She kept being made redundant and then someone suggested she try styling. She’d flown with it, still blogged on the side, keeping her hand in with her writing.
‘We’re at the beginning of something, are we?’ she asked tentatively, smiling shyly at him from under her lashes.
‘I don’t know. What do you think?’
‘I think we could be, yes… Can I ask one more thing?’ Carl nodded. ‘Do you still want children?’ That was easy to answer.
‘Yes. Very much.’
‘So do I.’
Carl lay back and stared at the ceiling, his arm remaining round Lara. Amen to that, he thought, and surprised himself by not freaking out.
14
Louise
Why had she come to this party? Louise had attended a few Mews shindigs, but never the famous summer one where the East Dulwich Forum pretty much imploded with indignity at the residents celebrating being alive. It usually made her chuckle to read what those sad fuckwits posted about online. Get a fucking life. But recently, most things failed to make her laugh. A damp blanket of sorrow tinged everything. Even Crunchy Ice Cream bars didn’t taste the same. That was why she’d needed to find her tribe, but the grief group hadn’t been it. Though Winnie, her old boss from King’s, had turned out to be a surprise member…
‘Lou Lou, I saw you trying to sneak out, like you were avoiding answering difficult questions on the ward!’ Winnie had laughed as she walked down the steps to greet her. The sight of Winnie opened up the floodgates. All the supressed nerves and anxiety about going to the group mingled with her raw grief, forced her to break down outside the church hall, her fag forgotten on the ground.
‘Still not kicked that filthy habit then, child?’ Winnie scooped her into her ample bosom for a hug. Louise remembered Winnie loved to dole out hugs and chocolate buttons, like everyone’s mum.
Louise had wanted to leave Leeds once she’d qualified as a midwife. She’d loved it there – the clubbing scene had been on the mark – but the pull of the south had been too strong. She’d applied for jobs in Surrey, Hampshire, Tooting and King’s College Hospital in Denmark Hill. King’s had been her favoured choice and she was so glad she’d accepted it and not The Royal Surrey because then she would never have worked for Winnie. Winnie was one of those bosses you remember for ever for moulding you into a better version of yourself. So for her to materialise outside that suffocating grief group was a wonder all on its own.
‘Oh, Winnie. You have no idea,’ was all she could squeeze out between crying.
‘Lou, I do know. I’m not at that group by accident now, am I?’
‘I’m sorry, of course. I can’t get outside of my own head sometimes. I know the world carries on for