Jean-Paul returned to his cottage, where he lit a fire and began to express his sorrow with violent strokes of paint on canvas. Ava returned to her husband. She crept up to where he was standing in front of his bookcase, running his long fingers over the spines, and wrapped her arms around his waist. “So you’re back,” he said jovially.
“Have you eaten?” she asked.
“I found some crumbs in the fridge,” he replied.
“I bet they were delicious crumbs.”
“They were made by an expert.” He turned around. “You’ve caught the wind,” he remarked, noticing her red eyes and cheeks.
“It was blowing a gale down there.”
“So I see.” She sank into his arms. “Are you all right, Shrub?”
“I’m fine. Just a bit of a headache.”
“Do you want me to pick up the children?”
“Would you?”
“Of course. Why don’t you have a lie-down?”
“I will.”
“Did you have fun?”
“It was okay. He’s sweet,” she replied, burying her face in his sweater. She shut her eyes. How close she had come to putting in danger the things she cherished the most. Phillip held her close. “That feels good,” she murmured. But Phillip couldn’t know just how good it felt.
XXII
Snowdrops peeping through frost. The first signs of spring.
Ava awoke early. She hadn’t slept well since that kiss on the beach. Her heart beat wildly, a confusing mixture of excitement and fear that sent the blood pumping through her veins. She lay listening to the cheerful clamor of birds in the trees and thought of the garden stirring to life with the warmer weather and longer days. The dawn light spilled into the room, flooding a slice of carpet with enthusiasm and yet, for Ava, it filled her with dread. The light signaled another day’s struggle with Jean-Paul and her own, uncontrollable desires. They worked in each other’s company like a couple of magnets fighting the force that pulled them together. They talked about anything but their true feelings; both suffered the same frustration inside, and the same struggle to dissemble.
Phillip lay on his back, his hand by his ear in carefree abandon. Ava turned on her side and watched the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed with the slow regularity of a man contented with his lot. He had done nothing to deserve her betrayal. They enjoyed a solid marriage in spite of his long and frequent trips abroad. He left her in no doubt that he loved her greatly. She, in turn, held him in the highest esteem; she respected his opinion about everything and admired his intellectual brilliance. She relished his lack of arrogance, his reliability, his strong moral code, his deep wisdom. So, why did she risk it all by loving a man she couldn’t have? Was it worth losing everything for a moment’s ride on a rainbow?
She thought of her children. Those three trusting people whose lives depended on the solidity of the foundations she built for them with Phillip. If she were to shake those foundations, what future did they have? But even while she held their futures in her hands like fragile feathers she was still distracted by the irresistible draw of Jean-Paul. There was only one thing to do.
She didn’t wait for Phillip to wake up but maneuvered herself on top of him, nuzzling her face in his neck. He stirred as he felt her warm body on his and wrapped his arms around her dreamily. “I want another baby,” she whispered into his ear. Phillip awoke with a jolt.
“What?” he mumbled, struggling to consciousness.
“I want another baby,” she repeated.
“Shrub, darling. Another baby? Right now?”
She held him tightly, frightened of losing him. “Yes.”
“I think we should think this through sensibly.”
“I’ve thought it through. I can think of nothing else.” Nothing else to tie me to home so I don’t run away…I can’t trust myself anymore.
“I don’t think I could give you a baby right now even if I wanted to,” he said, pushing her gently off him. “That’s not the sexiest way to wake a man.”
“I’m sorry,” she said, rolling onto her back and throwing an arm over her face. “You know how I am. If I have an idea I have to act upon it immediately.”
“Usually one of your most endearing qualities,” he said drily, stumbling into the bathroom.
“I’m getting on for forty. If I don’t have another now I’ll miss my chance.”
“Aren’t three enough?” Her reply was drowned by the sound of water gushing out of the tap as Phillip brushed his teeth and splashed his face with cold water.
“Then let’s go away for a few days,” she suggested when he emerged. “Just the two of us.”