Chapter 33

THIRTY-THREE

FREDDIE

The night of their first ever argument, he'd spent the afternoon with Dominic.

Charlotte had planned to spend the afternoon with her mother. He'd asked her again if she was going to tell her about the pregnancy and she'd shrugged her shoulders. ‘I'll see when I get there. Maybe.'

He'd only planned to have a couple of beers with Dominic in a local beer garden, but it had been so nice to sit outside in the sun, a cold pint in hand, that it'd been difficult to leave.

‘This is what we should be doing.' Dom leaned back in his chair, legs stretched out and feet crossed at the ankle. ‘I know you and Charlotte are all loved up, but don't you miss just having long afternoons on the beer with no time or place to be?'

He did miss it a little. ‘She's worth it.'

Dominic didn't know about the baby either, though Freddie really wanted to tell him. He was shaking his head. ‘Rather you than me. I'm not getting tied down to one woman until I'm at least thirty.'

His words reminded him of Freddie's mother's when he'd told her about moving into the apartment with Charlotte. ‘Why are you rushing into things?' she'd asked. ‘You're so young. There's plenty of time. Don't get tied down too soon.'

It wasn't that she didn't like Charlotte. It was impossible not to. But she did seem to have this idea that Charlotte was the one who wanted to settle down. That she had engineered the relationship. She'd feel differently once she knew about the baby, he was sure of that.

Five beers down, it took him three attempts to get his key in the lock before he let himself into the apartment. At the end of the entrance hall, Charlotte was clattering around the kitchen making herself something to eat. ‘You're home early. How was your mother?'

‘Don't ask.' She slammed another cabinet door and turned to face him with a jar of chocolate spread in one hand and a butter knife in the other. ‘Do you know what? I think we should go travelling.'

That fifth beer had definitely dulled his senses. ‘What now? What about your pregnancy?'

Jar open, she stuck in the knife and brought out a glut of chocolate to spread on the toast she'd already made. ‘Not now. Once the baby is born. Then it won't matter what either of our mothers think.'

Was he imagining it, or was she irritated with him? She wasn't making sense. ‘But I have to work. We need money to live on.'

‘Well, let's save then. We'll work up until the baby is born and save all our money and then we'll work as we go. Fruit picking. Teaching English. Whatever we can pick up.'

Was it pregnancy hormones making her so crazy? ‘It's a nice idea, but it's never going to work. I have a job. I need to work hard and build a life for us, for the baby.'

‘Those are your mother's words. She's the one who wants you to stay there. You hate it.'

She wasn't wrong about that. He did hate working there. For a start, his brain wasn't programmed to do that kind of work. And, also, he hated every boring minute of it. ‘But that's changed now that there's a baby coming. There's a reason to go to work.'

She looked on the edge of tears. It must be the hormones. ‘I feel like, if we move away, it'll all be easier.'

The doorbell prevented him from getting to the bottom of where this had all come from. It was his mother.

‘I was just passing and I thought I'd pop in with some good news.' She paused and looked between the two of them. ‘Am I interrupting something?'

Charlotte looked as if she was about to burst into tears. He had to say something. ‘No, mum. Charlotte's not feeling great.'

‘Really?' She frowned. ‘What's wrong?'

Charlotte shot him a look that had a thousand sharp words behind it. ‘Nothing. I'm fine.'

Again, his mother looked between the two of them. He needed to do something. ‘Why don't you come into the sitting room? Charlotte will come through when she'd finished her…er…dinner.'

His mother cast a disparaging eye over the thick slice of chocolate spread on toast in Charlotte's hand. But she followed him out of the kitchen.

He closed the door to the sitting room behind them just in time before his mother hissed at him. ‘I'm not stupid, Freddie. What's going on here? Have you two had an argument?'

Was it his imagination or did she look hopeful? It made him distinctly uncomfortable. ‘No, she's just been to her mother's house. It's difficult. And she's not feeling great.'

His mother's lips were tight. ‘Look, I know you don't want my opinion, but I really think you've rushed into all this, Freddie. It's too much for you both. She's just lost her father and you're both only just starting out in life. You've rushed into this and maybe you need to slow down a bit.'

He hadn't drunk five pints of beer in one go for quite a few months; he was feeling a little unwell himself. Definitely not in the mood for his mother to give him a lecture on his relationship. ‘I know you mean well. But that's not the issue.'

She took a deep breath and lowered her voice. ‘She's different from us, Freddie. I can see why you were attracted to her. She's a lovely girl, but that doesn't take away the fact that?—'

‘She's pregnant.'

The words were a reaction to stop her from speaking. But the instant they were out, he wanted to shove them back in. His mother's mouth was a circle of shock and, in the now-open doorway, Charlotte looked furious.