Coming back to the empty kitchen half an hour later and making some fresh coffee, Trevor decided to sit out on one of the loungers along the porch outside the main living space. After walking up and down, he found the door to the balcony at the end of the floor-to-ceiling windows.
Despite frail sunlight from overhead, the cloudless sky provided a beautiful panorama that reflected off the loch’s surface. Chill breezes occasionally drifted over the extended deck, and Trevor had to drag a throw from an inside sofa to drape over his legs. Sitting alone, he typed up a text message to Rudy then hit the send button. A habit of his, he waited to see if Rudy had picked up the message and whether Rudy would respond straight away, but nothing happened. When he looked up, he spotted a lone bird, white-breasted with beautifully patterned brown-and-white wings, almost chequered, swoop down gracefully and skim the surface of the loch. The lodge’s website had mentioned ospreys inhabiting the area. Rising in a perfect arc, the bird came to rest on the branch of a tree to resume its silent vigil. Alone and fending for itself, the creature sat there with no other birds snuggling up. Trevor felt an ache of sadness, of solidarity at the bird’s loneliness.
“Trevor,” came a deep voice from the balcony door.
Until his dying day, he would recognise that voice.
“Hi, Karl,” he said without turning, still taken by what he had seen. After a few moments without getting a response, he craned around to see his guarded ex standing there, his hands thrust deep into his baggy jeans.
“Everything okay?” asked Trevor. “I hear Mary’s not feeling too well.”
“Morning sickness. Which should be renamed any-time-of-the-day sickness. Burning essential oils helps. And foot rubs. She’s sleeping right now. Gets tired very easily.”
“Must be tough,” said Trevor, trying to sound sympathetic.
“She’s a fighter. Thirty weeks along,” said Karl brightly, not picking up on Trevor’s lacklustre response. “Seven months. In her third trimester. Going to be a March baby, by all accounts, if the baby comes on time. Pisces. Same as you.”
Karl stood there looking goofy, entirely out of character to the often cold and serious man Trevor had married. As Karl had been speaking, Trevor’s accountant brain had been working back the dates, and he hated himself for doing so. What good would come of knowing Karl had cheated on him? But the simple truth was that even though the divorce hadn’t been finalised until July, they had already separated when the baby had been conceived.
“Do you want to sit?” asked Trevor, nodding to the adjacent recliner.
“Is that okay?”
“For heaven’s sake, Karl. You never used to ask permission.”
Karl came forward and sat gingerly on the lounger’s edge, his hands still in his pockets.
“That’s because I can see how things have changed. Last night showed me that. You of all people know how much I look forward to these seasonal excursions. I always felt part of our exclusive group. I enjoyed time away from work and family as much as the rest of you, enjoyed eating and drinking with people I admire, people I could talk to about anything. You heard Mary last night, she tried to get me to change my mind. But I persuaded her to come, told her you were nice people and that we’d be fine once the group warmed to us. After last night, I’m not sure that’s ever going to happen.”
“Are you surprised? You know how fiercely loyal our friends are.”
“Your friends now. They’ve clearly taken sides.”
“What did you expect? You bailed, Karl. Not just on me, on them, too. You have everyone’s contact details, the same as me. You had Frank and Johnny’s email address. You could have sent them a message. Instead you dropped out of everyone’s lives, leaving me to pick up the pieces and explain what had happened. So tell me honestly, what did you expect?”
Trevor realised he had been raising his voice and made himself calm down. Karl’s brows had scrunched up, the way they did when he was trying to hold things together. Trevor took a steadying breath. He didn’t want a fight with Karl, didn’t want to make things tougher than they already were. Instead, he changed the subject.
“Pisces? Since when did you give a toss about horoscopes?”
Karl grinned and shrugged and at least had the decency to appear embarrassed. Trevor noticed a couple of grey hairs he hadn’t seen before, and Karl definitely looked as though he needed a good meal.
“Mary follows them,” he murmured.
“That’s not long off, is it?” said Trevor after a pause, taking a mental step down and offering an olive branch. “Are you ready? I mean, have you thought of any baby names yet? For him or her? Actually, do you even know the gender?”
The question seemed to visibly relax and animate Karl, a sappy expression transforming his mouth and eyes.
“All along, Mary thought we were going to have a girl. But the ultrasound said otherwise. We’re having a boy. If it was a girl, she wanted to call her Sugar. Sugar Ann. But now it’s a boy, we’re not sure of a name.”
“Sugar Ray Robinson was a guy. Hang on, Sugar Ann? Did Mary take your family name, Spice?”
“She did,” said Karl, grinning. “And I know what you’re going to say. Sugar Ann Spice. Can you imagine the stick she’d have gotten at school?”
“Seriously, Karl. You need to pick a strong name, especially if it’s a boy. You don’t want the poor sod to end up having the kind of shit childhood I had to suffer through.”
Trevor had put up with a lot of unimaginative name-calling all the way through school.
“If my son turned out anything like you, I’d be proud.”
