Page 36 of Be More Capybara

He reread what he’d written. Yes, that would do. He pressed Send.

He should text Helen as well in case she got a signal first.

In hospital with Lucy. Think she’s going to be ok, but Mark should call me asap. N x

As soon as he pressed Send, he realised he’d automatically added a kiss at the end. What was she going to make of that?

Lucy appeared at his side before he could think too deeply about it. ‘That was quick.’

‘Well, Daddy, I’ve got everything crossed that it might not be as bad as I thought. The midwife thinks everything is fine, but they’re going to give me an ultrasound to make sure. It might be half an hour.’

‘But how can you be fine when you were bleeding?’

‘It’s possibly a haematoma or a cervical something or other. But they’ll know more after the scan. Either way, it won’t affect the baby.’

‘Thank God for that.’ Nigel leaned closer to her and whispered, ‘Are we keeping up the pretence that I’m the father?’

‘We’ll have to now.’

‘Has Mark been in touch?’

‘No.’

‘I phoned him and Helen, but neither of them answered, so I’ve texted both of them.’

‘Thank you for trying. And for bringing me here.’

He shrugged. ‘It was the least I could do.’

‘Helen’s lovely.’

‘Yes, she is.’

Lucy was studying him intently. ‘How did you meet?’

‘Her dog nearly knocked me over on the cliff path the other day.’

‘I know that. I meant the first time.’

Nigel couldn’t help smiling as the memory of that sunny day drifted back into his mind. ‘It seems like a lifetime ago. Actually, it was,’ he added, doing the maths in his head. ‘It’s not that interesting.’

‘I’m interested.’

He hesitated, but what harm would it do? ‘It was 1992. We were sixteen. Mum was having some sort of fundraising garden party for the great and the good of Dashford.’

He could picture the scene perfectly. A gorgeous summer’s day, the sun beating down on the terrace where everyone had decided to congregate. Madness really, with the heat reflecting off the stone wall of the house, making it the hottest place in the garden. He was bored to tears serving drinks to people who were mostly his mother’s age. And then he’d spotted a tall willowy girl with chestnut brown hair loosely tied up in a ponytail. The woman standing next to her was enthusing about some topic or other. The girl had caught his eye and given him a theatrical yawn and an eye roll, making it plain that she was as bored as he was.

‘She was the only other person my age. I offered her a drink. She asked if we ever used the tennis court. I said only when my father was home, which she thought was a waste. So I grabbed a couple of tennis rackets and a tube of balls from the boot room, and we sneaked off to play. She beat me.’ He could even remember the sound of the ball whizzing past his ear as she served an ace to take the final game 40-love, just like she had the other day. ‘We became friends after that, mainly because I wanted a chance to win my pride back.’

That part wasn’t quite true. Yes, he had wanted to get even on the tennis court, but he’d been fascinated by her. She wasn’t like any of the other girls he knew. Not that he knew many, thanks to his parents sending him to an all boys school. But something was intriguing about her smile and the confident way she’d marched onto the tennis court like it was her family that owned it, not his.

‘Nigel?’

He realised he’d drifted off into his own thoughts again. ‘Sorry.’

‘I asked if you were going to see her again.’

‘I hope so.’ He wasn’t sure how much more to say. After all, he and Madison had only just split up, and here he was thinking about the first woman he’d fallen in love with - possibly the only one he’d really, truly loved. God, what a terrible thing to think. But what if it were true? And if it were, how was he going to cope with the fact that Helen didn’t feel as deeply about him?