Page 21 of It's Now or Never

She’d always said that she hated children and swore that she would never have kids of her own, but here she was pregnant with her first child. Angie would make the most wonderful mother. It just amazed me that it had never occurred to me before.

‘I couldn’t be happier. It’s all been a bit crazy, first thewedding and now this. Funny how your life can turn around so quickly.’

She was absolutely right there. This time last year we’d both been single girls about town without a care in the world. Now she was married and expecting a baby, and had a whole heap of responsibility on her shoulders. It certainly explained why I noticed the subtle change in her appearance; radiant, happy and tired all rolled into one.

‘What does Tom think?’

She screwed up her face and winced. ‘He was completely shocked at first. It wasn’t planned and I think he would have liked more time to ourselves before we started a family, but events have been taken out of our hands now.’ She shrugged, looking as though she couldn’t quite believe the news herself. ‘He’s slowly coming round to the idea though. He’s going to be the best dad ever.’

‘And you’re going to be the best mum ever. I just know you are.’

‘Do you know,’ said Angie, looking thoughtful. ‘This just confirms to me that it was all meant to be. It’s as though fate has stepped in and decreed that this would happen. Do you believe in fate, Jen?’

I pondered on that one for a moment. Had it been my fate to spend nine years with Paul, thinking we would end our days together only for him to have a complete change of heart at the last moment? ‘I don’t know.’

‘I do. I know it sounds daft, but I’m a great believer in these things. Tom and I were always meant to be together, he just needed a little convincing of the fact.’

She giggled, and I thought that I’d never seen her looking happier.

‘Well, I think it’s the most brilliant news.’

Obviously Fate was far too busy sorting out Angie’s love life to step in and do something about mine, but I was hopeful that my turn would be next. Perhaps Fate just needed a nudge in the ribs, a reminder that I was here, ready and waiting. Perhaps if I put out a small request to the universe, they’d be able to do a job lot and sort out my love life and everything else at the same time.

Thinking about it, perhaps I didn’t believe in fate after all.

‘Jen?’

‘Yeah?’

‘Sorry to go on, but your chilli jam, do you think it’s all right out there?’

‘Oh shit!’ At that moment the aromas of burnt sugar and vinegar so pungent it hit me right in the back of my throat, making my eyes water, wafted out to join us in the living room. I dashed out to the kitchen, grabbed a tea towel and snatched the stock pot off the hob, peering hopefully into the pan. I stuck my wooden spoon into the gooey black flecked mess and attempted to give it a stir, but that congealed blob of sugar wasn’t going anywhere.

‘Hmm,’ said Angie, looking over my shoulder, giving me a reassuring squeeze with her hand around my waist. ‘If you want my advice, darling, that recipe needs a little more tweaking.’

10

It was my final week working at Browns and by Thursday I’d cleared all my paperwork and drawn up lists of the jobs I did on a daily, weekly and monthly basis for my successor. I prepared spreadsheets, updated my filing systems and transferred the huge pile of business cards on the office desk onto the contact lists on the computer.

There was still a part of me that felt guilty about leaving Matt in the lurch, but there would never be an ideal time to leave and I’d stayed longer than I’d intended to, seeing out the busy summer period. Everyone at work had expressed their surprise when they’d learnt I was moving on. Matt had called me his right-hand woman and wondered how he would ever manage without me. A couple of times he’d asked if there was anything he could do to make me change my mind and had offered me considerably more money and a new role within the company to entice me to stay, but I knew if I didn’t leave now, I never would. I’d be collecting my pension from Browns.

With nothing left to do in the office that day I picked up my gloves and headed outside to the nurseries. I wasn’t a naturalhorticulturist, but there was always something that needed doing in that department and after a quick word with Tim, the manager there, he pointed me in the direction of a pile of compost that had been spilt over by the hebe display.

It was one of the things I’d loved about the job, the variety. If things ever got too intense in the garden centre or in the office I would come outside, get away from the crowds and find something to do with my hands. The fresh air cleared my head and being close to nature, feeling the soil beneath my fingernails, gave me a different perspective on whatever it was that was troubling me.

It was one of the things I intended to focus on in some of my online posts, the mental health benefits that came from gardening, whether you had a couple of acres to tend or just a small window box. It could be hugely therapeutic to be at one with nature.

I found myself a broom and began sweeping up the compost scattered over the floor, mulling over the fact that I had only two more days to go before I left Browns for good. In some ways I could hardly believe it. It was definitely the end of an era, but hopefully the beginning of a new one too. I hoped I wasn’t making the wrong decision. I was sure I wasn’t, but I supposed it was only natural to have the occasional wobble. I was just mentally preparing a to-do list when I became aware of someone standing to my side watching as I manoeuvred the broom across the floor.

‘Sorry,’ I said, turning around and resting my hands on top of the brush, ‘can I help you at all?’

‘Yes, I hope so.’

‘Oh my god! What are you doing here?’

Alex, who was beginning to make a habit of turning up when I least expected it, was standing in front of me, that familiarseductive wide smile on his lips. He was wearing smart navy chinos, a white shirt unbuttoned at the collar and brown brogues. He didn’t look like your average garden centre customer and I was reminded, with a heart-thumping jolt, of just how heart-piercingly, knee-bucklingly good-looking he was.

‘Is that how you speak to all your customers? Or is that tone just reserved for your special ones?’

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