The Sun in Her Eyes

  His green eyes widen. ‘Oh, right.’

  Suddenly I feel twitchy and uncomfortable and really wish I wasn’t breastfeeding so I could sink a whole bottle of wine.

  ‘It’s good to see you,’ he says quietly, but I’m looking anywhere but at him. ‘I heard you had a little girl?’

  My smile is involuntary. ‘Katy.’ I glance towards her pram.

  ‘Let’s have a look, then,’ he says.

  I hesitate, but I don’t suppose it can hurt.

  So much for never seeing him again. I was naive to think that we wouldn’t cross paths at some point. There’s no way I could have avoided him forever.

  I lead the way to the pram and he crouches down beside it and lifts up the blanket. I kneel on the other side, my heart constricting painfully as he smiles a small smile.

  ‘She looks like you,’ he says.

  ‘Maybe when she’s asleep,’ I concede. ‘When she’s awake, she looks like Ned.’

  It’s true. Her baby-blue eyes changed within weeks and they now have a beautiful hazel hue. We’re not sure what colour her hair will be yet, because she hardly has any, bless her.

  Ethan slowly lowers the blanket again and regards me over the top of the pram. Reluctantly, I meet his gaze. The lights from the dance floor are flashing red, green, blue and yellow across his face. His eyes glint at me.

  ‘It’s good to see you,’ he says. ‘I’ve missed you.’

  My treacherous bottom lip begins to tremble. ‘Don’t,’ I say.

  ‘Can’t we be friends, A?’ He looks so earnest. ‘We’ve been through so much.’

  I shake my head. ‘We were never friends,’ I remind him. For me, it’s always been more.

  He nods sadly. ‘Okay. I understand.’ He stares down at the pram and I’m about to get to my feet when he speaks. ‘I’m sorry. I know I acted like a dick. I hope one day you’ll forgive me. And I do still hope we can be mates one day.’

  ‘Maybe,’ I breathe. ‘In time.’ But it will never be the same.

  He looks overwhelmingly relieved, and then we’re interrupted.

  ‘There you are!’ Tony shouts.

  Ethan closes his eyes with weary resignation before standing up to face his dad. ‘You guys ready to go?’ he asks as his mum appears.

  ‘We sure are, son,’ Tony jubilantly replies, no doubt off his trolley thanks to his own, admittedly excellent, vintage wine.

  ‘Aah, is Amber showing you the baby?’ Ruth coos. ‘Isn’t she lovely?’

  ‘Very cute,’ Ethan agrees obligingly.

  ‘Have a safe journey home,’ I say, standing up. ‘It was good to see you both again.’

  ‘You too, dear.’ I kiss Ruth and Tony and then turn to face Ethan.

  ‘Bye, A,’ he says, looking awkward as he hesitates, not knowing whether or not to kiss me.

  ‘See you later,’ I reply, giving him a quick peck on his cheek and flashing Ruth and Tony a final smile before turning round and scanning the room.

  Ned, I see with instant concern, is not standing with Nell and George. Did he see me talking to Ethan? Could he read from our body language that something went on between us?

  This is what it’s going to be like from now on, I realise miserably. I’m always going to be living in fear, dealing with my guilt. But my guilt is my burden to bear. If I ever offload it onto my husband, it will destroy his happiness, so for the foreseeable future, if not forever, I’ll have to live without his forgiveness.

  I know that my omission to tell the truth may not fit in with how others might define ‘being good’, but at the moment it feels right to stay silent.

  I’m still so shocked that I ever let a fantasy become a reality.

  I thought I was safe inside my head, dreaming for years about Ethan and what could have been. It made it all too easy to go along with it when something did happen. But I sure as hell never daydreamed about what the consequences of an affair could be – how sick and twisted everything could become.

  Fantasising is a dangerous, dangerous game to play. I plan to live only in reality from now on.

  ‘Boo,’ Ned says in my ear, making my heart skip a beat as his hands land on my waist.

  ‘You scared the life out of me!’ I exclaim, fighting the urge to smack him. ‘Where have you been? I was just looking for you.’

  ‘Popped to the loo,’ he replies, his eyes twinkling as he smiles at me. ‘Is she still asleep?’

  ‘Yes, but probably not for long. Do you think we should go soon?’

  ‘Sure. Whenever you’re ready.’ He bends down and kisses me and I can taste red wine on his lips. ‘You’re very tipsy,’ I point out with affection.

  ‘I’m drunk as a skunk,’ he corrects me with amusement.

  ‘Let’s go and say bye,’ I urge, grabbing his hand and leading the way.

  Liz and Dad are staying in a swanky city hotel, so Ned and I kiss them goodnight and take our leave, knowing we will see them before they set off on their honeymoon to Kangaroo Island on Monday. We’re heading back to London via Malaysia for a short holiday of our own.

  The two of us walk back to Dad and Liz’s house in the cool autumn air, Katy still fast asleep beneath her blanket.

  ‘Did you have a nice time?’ I ask.

  ‘Yeah.’ He smiles warmly. ‘I like your Aussie friends.’

  ‘Aah, that’s nice. I wish we didn’t live so far away.’

  Hmm, to think that earlier I deemed the distance a good thing.

  ‘Would you ever want to move back here?’ Ned asks casually.

  ‘I don’t know. Maybe we could consider it one day, when Dad and Liz are older. Not yet, though. I’d miss our friends in England too much.’

  ‘Me, too,’ he says.

  When we’re back at the house, Ned goes to brush his teeth while I do my best to transfer Katy into the cot beside our bed. She wakes up, just as Ned is returning.

  ‘Bummer,’ he mutters.

  ‘I’ll feed her,’ I decide. ‘I might be able to settle her again.’

  ‘Okay.’ He flops onto the bed.

  I carry her out of the bedroom and into the living room, shushing her while I get myself ready.

  As I cradle her tiny head while she suckles, my heart expands with love.

  I adore this quiet time with her, when it’s just the two of us. The love I feel for my daughter is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced, tenfold. I was taken aback by the intensity of my emotions after she was born. I thought I would die if anything happened to her, and I knew I would kill to protect her. If Ned is my world, she is my universe.

  She falls asleep on my chest, and I nearly nod off, too. I have to force myself to my feet, burping her over my shoulder as I return to our room.

  Ned is flat out on his back, snoring lightly. I smile at him as I gently place our baby into her crib, with Lambert at her feet.

  Lambert has been through the wash a few times, and I was slightly horrified the last time we were in Brighton when Ned’s mum unwittingly attempted to remove the fingerprint stains with Vanish. She was put out when they stuck – not much defeats her. She’d be even more perturbed if she knew what they were.

  But some things are meant to remain.

  I bend down and kiss my sleeping daughter’s face, unable to resist stroking her baby-soft head with the tips of my fingers before retreating.

  ‘Goodnight, little lamb,’ I whisper in the darkness. ‘I love you.’

  Be good.

  Acknowledgements

  Huge thanks, first of all, to my readers. Sometimes I find it tricky to keep on top of social media with deadlines looming, but I’m always smiling from the moment I start checking out your messages on Twitter (@PaigeToonAuthor) and Facebook (www.facebook.com/PaigeToonAuthor), so please keep them coming.

  Because I wanted to say more than a simple thank you for all of your support, last year I came up with the idea of launching a unique book club for my readers. It’s called ‘The Hidden Paige’ and it is free to join, so do sign up at pa
igetoon.com if you haven’t already. There will be more exclusive short stories coming from me this year…

  Thank you, yet again, to my amazing editor, Suzanne Baboneau. I’d like my readers to know that you are largely responsible for their enjoyment of my books! I love working with you – and indeed, the whole team at Simon & Schuster. Thank you in particular to Jo Dickinson, Emma Capron, Elizabeth Preston, Sara-Jade Virtue, Ally Grant, Nico Poilblanc, Hayley McMullan, Gill Richardson, Rumana Haider, Sarah Birdsey, and Melissa Four for another beautiful cover design. Thanks also to my copy editor, Mary Tomlinson.

  Heartfelt thanks to my agent Lizzy Kremer, her assistant Harriet Moore, and the team at David Higham Associates. Not only did Lizzy come up with the title for The Sun in Her Eyes, but without her, this book would not be anywhere near the book that it is. I am grateful to her in so many ways.

  In order to write The Sun in Her Eyes, I had to research everything from strokes to wineries, teaching and advertising, so I have a lot of people to credit.

  Thank you first and foremost to Ali Murray from Stroke Association. Ali is the Information, Advice and Support coordinator for Cambridgeshire, and she gave up a lot of her very valuable time to enlighten me about stroke survivors and the challenges they face. Please visit www.stroke.org.co.uk if you would like any more information, but I urge you to remember the FAST test: FACIAL weakness (Can the person smile? Has their mouth or eye drooped?), ARM weakness (Can the person raise both arms?), SPEECH problems (Can the person speak clearly and understand what you say?), TIME to call 999. The faster you act, the more of the person you save. Thanks also to Ali for recommending the book My Year Off by Robert McCrum – a very insightful first person account about what it was like to have a stroke in his early forties.

  A big cheers to Mark Stalham for sharing his remarkable knowledge about winemaking with me (over a very nice bottle of Black Craft Shiraz, I might add!) and also to his wife Katherine for helping to double check I’d got my facts straight.

  Thank you to my old pals, brother and sister team extraordinaire Dr Adam Nelson and Dr Sophie Nelson for assisting with further stroke research and Royal Adelaide Hospital details. I owe you a drink when I’m next Down Under!

  And speaking of drinks, thank you to my brother Kerrin and my sister-in-law Miranda Schuppan for their exceptional Adelaide bar research – M, I’m just sorry you couldn’t quaff alcohol at the time. FYI, the bar Amber goes to early on in the book is called Udaberri on Leigh Street and apparently it’s great, but I didn’t mention it by name because of my fictional use of Brettanomyces!

  Thank you to all of my friends for allowing me to witter on about my books, but especially author Ali Harris, Angela Mash, Annabel Diggle, Katherine Reid and Katharine Park. Thanks also to my oldest friend, Jane Hampton, for her feedback on an early draft of this book, and double thanks to K-Reid for helping with proof-reading.

  Thank you also to Ben Southgate, Nicola Farrance-Burke and Sarah Sarkozy for their help with various things. And a little shout out to Ellie Pennell, who entered a competition via ‘The Hidden Paige’ to see her name in print – I hope it made you giggle, Ellie!

  Finally, thank you to my parents, Vern and Jen Schuppan, my husband Greg, and my adorable little children Indy and Idha. Greg, you help me in countless ways and always have, and as for the rest of my family, thanks for just being there.

  Please turn over to read

  When Lily Met Alice,

  a short story I wrote for The Hidden Paige

  Introduction

  In autumn 2014, I wrote a chapter of Thirteen Weddings from another character’s point of view and emailed it out for free to the members of my unique new book club, ‘The Hidden Paige’.

  As readers of Thirteen Weddings will know, Chapter 5 features Lily and Ben from Pictures of Lily and Alice and Joe from One Perfect Summer. I asked some of you to vote on whether you’d most like to hear from Lily or Alice, and the former just pipped the latter to the post.

  My publisher very kindly agreed to print this 7,000-word short story on the following pages for those who hadn’t signed up to ‘The Hidden Paige’ in time, but please visit my website paigetoon.com to become a member if you don’t want to miss out on my free short stories in the future.

  I loved touching base with Lily, Ben, Alice and Joe again, and I hope you enjoy this snapshot into their future lives, too. So, without further ado, here’s When Lily Met Alice…

  www.paigetoon.com

  #thehiddenpaige

  When Lily Met Alice

  I wake up alone. It’s the early hours of the morning and Ben is not in bed beside me. This is not that unusual, considering, but I know I won’t get back to sleep without checking on him.

  I sit up in bed and slide my feet out onto the cold floorboards, then find my dressing gown from behind the door and slip my arms into it, tying a knot across my no-longer-flat stomach. I pad quietly out of our bedroom and into the hall. The lights are off in the kitchen, so I take a left and head for the living room, coming to a sudden stop in the doorway.

  My husband is fast asleep on the sofa, lying on his back with his bare arms cradling a tiny bundle to his chest. This is the third morning in a row that I’ve found him here.

  ‘You need your sleep,’ he told me yesterday morning when I berated him for not just bringing her into bed with us when he heard her crying.

  ‘So do you,’ I pointed out.

  And now here he is again, and he has to work again today.

  My heart goes out to him. He must be cold. It’s late March and the nights are drawing in, especially here in the Adelaide Hills. We still haven’t upgraded the heating in our home, which once belonged to Ben’s grandmother. She practically raised him, and left this house to him when she died. We’ve been living in it for about three years now, but we can’t afford much on his keeper’s salary or my part-time junior keeper wage. If only I could make more of a living as a photographer.

  ‘You can’t expect it to happen overnight,’ Ben keeps telling me.

  Still, I wish it would.

  I walk back down the hall and into the spare room, dragging the blanket off the end of the bed, before returning to the living room with it. Quietly making my way over to Ben, I lay the blanket across his sleeping body. He stirs and his eyes open, even darker blue than usual in this dim light. Poor thing, I can see now how red they are.

  ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,’ I whisper, squeezing onto the sofa beside him and touching my hand to his warm, stubbly face. ‘You look exhausted,’ I add with concern.

  ‘I’m oka–’ His sentence is cut off by the violence of his yawn. His broad chest rises and falls, the bundle moving with it. But still, she sleeps.

  ‘Oh, sweetheart,’ I murmur. ‘Let me take her so you can go back to bed.’

  He shakes his head and smiles up at me, sleepily. ‘I’m alright. How was your night?’

  ‘Better,’ I tell him with a nod. I slept badly the night before.

  ‘What’s the time?’ he asks.

  ‘Six.’

  ‘Lily, get back to bed!’ he commands in a loud whisper.

  ‘No, I’m awake now. You should go.’

  ‘I’ve got to be up in an hour anyway,’ he says, never one to complain.

  ‘I love you,’ I tell him, bending down to kiss him.

  ‘Mmm,’ he murmurs against me, the vibration tickling my lips. I deepen our kiss and he returns my gesture with increasing passion. I really want him to put his arms around me, but he can’t because they’re otherwise engaged. It’s very frustrating.

  ‘Do you think she’ll transfer?’ I ask impatiently against his hot mouth.

  ‘Let’s try,’ he replies with his own sense of urgency. He sits up, still cradling the bundle to his chest.

  I’m rigid with tension as I watch him put her down. Her eyes open and she lets out a squeak.

  No, no, NO!

  He glances up at me, his face filled with regret and apology as she continues to cry.
>
  ‘I’d better feed her,’ he says.

  NO!

  But I just nod, the disappointment crushing. A mean part of me wishes he’d let her cry, but I know that’s not Ben.

  If this is what he’s like with a two-week-old infant koala, what’s he going to be like when I give birth to an actual human baby in five months’ time?

  ‘Do you think someone else might like to take the joey tonight?’ I ask him later, over breakfast. I try to keep my voice sounding casual so he doesn’t think I’m a complete hussy who wants him only for his body. God, I really do want his body, though.

  He cocks his head to one side. ‘Mike and Janine are still on holiday until Wednesday, but I suppose I could ask Owen.’

  ‘Yes! Surely he’d love that?’ Owen is quite new so he should be overjoyed at the prospect of having a baby koala all to himself.

  ‘I don’t know,’ Ben replies with a shrug. ‘We’ll see.’

  He finds it hard to relinquish responsibility for the tiny orphans who are brought into the conservation park where we work. This little joey was knocked off her mother’s back by a car while crossing the road. The mother was killed and her daughter was badly hurt – Ben was worried he’d have to euthanise her – but she’s improved over the last couple of days. I know he’ll struggle to give her up to Owen. And now I feel bad for asking him to. At least she’ll soon be well enough to be relocated to the hospital room at work with the other hand-reared infants.

  ‘What time’s your lunch break today?’ I ask, changing the subject and reaching across to adjust the collar of his dark-green polo shirt. He’s wearing khaki-coloured shorts and brown boots. Soon it will be too cold for anything but trousers, but the weather is supposed to be nice today. Yesterday it rained practically from dawn till dusk.

  ‘I’m doing the dingo talk at 11 and then I’m on koala duty all afternoon, so I’ll probably have half an hour or so from noon. You planning on coming in?’

  ‘Yes. I want to take a few more website pics while the weather’s nice.’