Tonight was going to be his night.
Laura Baxter wrapped the blanket more tightly around her infant son’s shoulders and stared at his face lovingly. She wondered if his little nose and permanently pursed mouth would ever seem less than magical to her. She couldn’t imagine that they would. Lots of people said he looked like Gabe, but Laura couldn’t see it at all. Felix didn’t look like anyone. He was himself: tiny, unique and quite perfect.
‘Would you like to hold him?’
‘Oh, no. Thanks.’ Logan looked terrified. She and Laura were ensconced on the sofa in the drawing room at Wraggsbottom Farm, with Felix’s Moses basket wedged in between them. Gabe was out on the farm and would be gone all day, so the two girls were alone. Laura had made tea and cut some slices off the enormous Battenburg cake that Mrs Worsley had brought over from Furlings ‘in case you get a bit peckish, while you’re feeding.’ Everyone in the village had been so kind, but at this rate Laura stood no chance of losing her baby weight. Logan, by contrast, looked skinnier than ever and positively fragile in the black skinny jeans and baggy, cover-all sweater she’d chosen for today’s visit.
‘He’s lovely,’ she stammered, ‘but I … I wouldn’t know what to do.’
‘There’s nothing to “do”,’ Laura laughed. ‘You just pick him up and cuddle him. Like a doll.’
‘I’d rather not,’ said Logan. ‘My hands are shaking just thinking about it. I might drop him.’
Reaching into the basket, Laura lifted her son herself and leaned back against the sofa cushions, allowing Felix to rest against her while she chatted to Logan with both hands free.
‘Pass me my tea, would you?’
Logan obliged, and Laura could see her hands actually were shaking as she rattled the cup against its saucer.
‘It was sweet of you to come.’
‘Nonsense,’ said Logan, blushing. ‘It was sweet of you to ask me. I should have come a long time ago. But I couldn’t face it.’
‘Couldn’t face what?’ Laura asked gently.
‘You. Gabe. What I’d done.’ Logan looked down at her hands and kept her eyes resolutely fixed there.
‘It was an accident,’ Laura reminded her. ‘You didn’t set fire to the barn on purpose.’
‘Yes. But it wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t got drunk and invited all those idiots over, and smoked weed even after Seb told me how dangerous and stupid it was.’
‘We all make mistakes,’ said Laura. ‘Thank goodness the others had already gone home when it happened.’
Logan nodded. ‘And thank goodness I’d been too lazy to bring the horses inside that afternoon, or they’d all have been baked alive in their stalls.’ Her hand flew to her mouth, imagining the horror of what might have been. She let out a little yelp of distress, and had to force herself to look up at Laura. ‘I wanted to come before, to say sorry. But “sorry” just sounded so inadequate, under the circumstances.’
‘I think sorry sounds fine,’ Laura said kindly. ‘Now do eat some cake, for heaven’s sake, or I’m going to turn into the fat one from Bridesmaids.’
Logan tried to laugh, but it wasn’t working. If anything Laura’s sweetness was making this harder.
‘You saved my life,’ she said. ‘After all the mean things I said about you … you saved me.’
‘Did you say mean things about me?’ Laura looked surprised more than offended.
‘Sometimes,’ Logan admitted. ‘But none of them were true. The problem was I was poisoned with jealousy.’
Laura laughed. She had missed Logan’s melodramatic, teenage turns of phrase.
‘I loved Gabe so much,’ Logan went on seriously. ‘And you had him, and I couldn’t bear it. That’s also why I behaved like such a prat. I think I thought if I were a bit more cool, and drank a lot, and did adult things like smoking weed and going out with Seb …’
‘Is going out with Sebby Harwich an “adult thing”?’ Laura couldn’t help interjecting.
‘You know what I mean,’ said Logan. ‘I thought it might make Gabe see me in a new light.’
‘I see,’ said Laura.
Poor girl. It had obviously taken a good deal of courage for Logan to come back to the farm today and face her. Laura wondered if she’d been brave enough to confront her father as well; she asked her.
Logan shook her head. ‘I think I’d be shot on sight if I went back to Furlings.’
‘I’m sure that’s not true,’ Laura frowned. ‘I know your mother misses having you at home, and I’m sure your dad does too. Men aren’t always great at showing these things, you know.’
‘Hmmm,’ said Logan, noncommittally.
‘I ran into your mum yesterday as it happens,’ Laura went on. ‘Gringo had fallen into some sort of silage, I think, and she was dragging him back across the field for a bath.’
‘Oh, Gringo!’ Logan pouted. ‘I think I miss him most of all.’