in with a tray of teacups and sugar bowls and milk. ‘One lump or two?’ she asked Ben.
It was a harmless question. A stupid, simple word. Lump. She meant sugar but, judging by the dark eyes and fixed jaw, Ben had a completely different perspective.
‘Oh… er…’ His gaze flicked between the two women and he looked suddenly out of his depth, which took a lot for a big, strong policeman.
He closed his eyes briefly, then opened them and fixed a smile. A pretend-everything’s-okay kind of smile, and Charlotte realised then that the lump thing was really affecting him too.
Why she hadn’t thought about that before she didn’t know. But of course he’d be reeling – about to marry a woman he might have to look after and then, possibly, lose. Or go through a lot of painful extraordinary stuff when he’d signed up for just plain ordinary. The happy atmosphere seemed to shatter, brittle as it had been. Brittle as everything felt at the moment. He nodded at Margaret. ‘Just one, please.’
‘Excellent. I’ll just leave you two to try them all and have a chat, maybe make some decisions. Here are some files with photographs, and of course we can do any variation on a theme, match the colour of your dress or flowers, etcetera. And this here…’ She heaved another file over, oblivious to the shattered mood. ‘…Is the file of toppers, anything from fun to downright romantic. I know it’s a bit overwhelming, so take your time. No hurry.’ She bustled off into the back room, from which came lovely smells and the strains of easy-listening music, no doubt to stop the growling stomachs and oohs and ahhhs at the deliciousness from filtering through and disturbing Margaret’s cake-decorating prowess.
Charlotte’s fork was still stabbed into the double-chocolate sample, at an acute angle that didn’t look as if it would stay upright for long, but she didn’t feel particularly hungry any more. Did Ben still want to marry her? Was he scared like she was? Scared about what the future held?
She looked at him and saw the dark edges under his eyes. The way his jaw twitched as his teeth ground together. The last week had taken its toll on both of them; lying in bed not touching, just staring up at the half-painted ceiling, not speaking. Sleepless, and listless. He turned to look at her. ‘You haven’t eaten anything yet. Are you okay, baby?’
‘I don’t know.’ Her stomach was feeling weird. This whole experience was getting harder and harder to deal with, raising more and more questions amid the malingering presence of panic.
‘Have some cake, you’ll feel better.’
‘I don’t feel hungry.’ It was better just to get it out in the open, wasn’t it? ‘Do you still love me, Ben?’
He twisted on the cushion to face her, his expression incredulous. ‘What the hell kind of question is that? Of course I do. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.’
‘It’s just… you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. I give you a get-out-of-jail-free card. No strings. Nothing. If it turns out I do have cancer, you can walk away.’
‘Bloody hell. Is that what you think I’m about? Really?’ He pushed the tray of samples away, across the table, edged them up against the files they hadn’t opened. ‘One whiff of something and you think I’ll bail?’
‘No. No. I just don’t want you to think you owe me anything.’
His voice was dark and fractured, but low. A strain to maintain. ‘I owe you a lot. Everything, actually. I’m marrying you, Charlotte, whatever happens. I’ve made promises I would never break. I love you. ‘
‘I know.’ But things had changed; the dynamic between them was different. It wasn’t that she was suddenly needy – she’d never needed anyone before and she’d get through all this on her own if she had to. But she could see the balance between them shifting and that made her feel uneasy. It was probably just the normal ebb and flow of relationships, adjustments to the changing sands of life. But she didn’t like it. ‘You haven’t touched me since you found the lump. Not in any way.’
‘I was giving you some space. The doctor said not to touch it, you told me. I didn’t know what to do… say. I was…’ He scrubbed his hand across his shaking head. ‘I was giving myself some space too, trying to work things out, read up on it. My first thought was cancer. My first thought was that I would lose you and I didn’t know how I’d handle that. I was trying to be strong for you by holding it all in. Stupid, eh? Especially when we have no diagnosis.’
‘And what have you read?’
‘That it’s probably nothing. That we’re being hasty… but you see so much stuff, right, on the internet? Everything’s about cancer. But you haven’t got it. You’re too… vibrant to be ill.’ This was the most he’d said about it at all. Since that hug on the day he’d found the lump he’d kept a distance, but so had she. They usually shared everything, but some of the panic they’d kept to themselves. ‘Anyway, whatever happens, we’re walking down that aisle in six weeks. And we’re eating cake. Okay? So we’d better get a wriggle on and choose which kind.’
Tears pricked her eyes and her throat was so full, so raw, there’d be no way she’d get even a tiny morsel of food down it. ‘Okay. Okay. So you’re not completely repulsed?’
He sighed. Blew out, hard. ‘By what? You? Come on, Charlie, give me some credit. I’m a copper. I see a lot of bad things. You are definitely not one of them.’
‘I didn’t mean… me. I mean… this.’ She pointed to her chest.
‘I’d love you with no breasts or three breasts.’ He wrapped his arm round her shoulder and tugged her against him, pressing a soft kiss on the top of her head. ‘For God’s sake, don’t do this. Don’t doubt me.’
Now she’d made things a hundred times worse between them, when he’d bought her flowers and brought her here in an effort to make her feel better. Blood rushed to her cheeks. She was ruining everything by concentrating on the wrong things. Even though her brain kept sliding towards the lump and her growing need to discover what was going on in her genes, she had to stop. Stop all this thinking and focus on the things that mattered to her and Ben, not just to her. She looked down at her new non-paint-streaked work top and tried to lighten the rapidly deteriorating mood. ‘Hey, maybe that’s what’s happening… Maybe I’m just growing another boob. Put me in a circus – we could make some money.’
That put a flicker of a smile on his beautiful face. ‘It’d pay for the flowers, I suppose. They weren’t cheap.’
‘They’re gorgeous.’
He shrugged. ‘You deserve them. I know I can be pretty strung-out about money, and it’s for good reason, but perhaps we can be a bit more flexible every now and then.’
‘We’re just building a life. We have a plan. It’s okay.’
‘Yup. But we can splurge every now and then. You’re worth it.’
Charlotte’s heart started to slow. Things were getting back on an even keel again. ‘I’m sorry for the wobble. I seem to be having a few of them at the moment. I think I might have upset mum earlier too. I didn’t mean to. But I told her I was thinking of looking up my birth mother. Well, I didn’t exactly say that… but we talked about it. About her.’
‘That seems a bit out of left field, Charlie.’ He looked at the tray of cake. Shook his head. The poor cake fairy was probably in her back office hearing every word and not knowing whether or not to come out. Weddings. Cancer. Adoption. All in one visit. That was pretty heavy for a Thursday evening and they hadn’t had even one mouthful yet. ‘You’ve never even mentioned her really.’
‘It’s not something I talk about, because who wants to hear it?’ Ever since Michael Maloney she’d trained herself not to mention it. Life was easier, safer, if she was on the receiving end of fewer clumsy questions and comments about being given away, sowing the seed that there was a possibility it might happen again if she got too difficult,