Theadorametmeatthe café, wearing a concerned frown. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m good. Really good. I’ve gotten over the morning sickness, and now I feel great.”
“You look great.” She gave me a supportive smile.
“I’m spending all my time here for the sake of the baby. The air’s cleaner.”
“The spa opened to great fanfare.”
“Oh, really?” Although I feigned ignorance, I knew all about it. Annabel, a girl at the supermarket, had attended their opening day and told me how stunning it was.
“It’s a lovely place. All the products are natural. I think Ethan had you in mind.” She gave me that look of hers. Theadora liked to remind me that Ethan still cared, bringing music to my soul. That was one of the reasons I always dropped everything to catch up with Theadora.
“Is he still here or in London?”
“He’s mainly in London these days. Working on a few projects.” She sipped her coffee. “He’s always asking after you.”
Warmth rippled through me. “That’s nice. So what else is happening? Did Declan get the boys back?”
She shook her head. “He’s setting up an organic farm with the Newmans. He seems to like being around the land. I think he’s a natural farmer.” She smiled. “Strange, really.”
“That doesn’t surprise me. Growing up, Declan was always hanging out with the animals on our farm. He used to ask my mother lots of questions about what she was planting in the garden too.”
Theadora’s face filled with love, as it always did whenever I spoke of her husband as a boy. “I don’t mind what he does.” She exhaled. “He loves to fly. That spooks me. He’s even put his hand up to volunteer in medical rescue.”
“That’s fantastic. Isn’t it?” I studied her.
She toyed with her cup. “He’s that kind of person. But it scares the crap out of me, I must admit.”
“He’s a very experienced pilot, Thea.”
She shrugged. “He is. We went to Greece only a couple of weeks ago. He always insists on flying, and whenever he steps off that plane, he looks so blissed out.”
“There. As long as planes are well maintained, not much can go wrong.”
She touched my hand. “Are you really okay?”
“I’m great. ‘Song of the Sea’ is doing well. You know that. You did get that cheque?”
“I did.” She opened her bag and passed me the note. “I don’t need it, sweetie. I’m seriously rich.”
“You earnt it. Please take it. I’m doing really well. Netflix picked up the song for a movie.”
Her face lit up with surprise, a mirror of my own reaction when that offer, thanks to Orson’s managerial prowess, had come in.
“You’re kidding?” Her mouth remained open.
I smiled, remembering how that news had made my day. “It’s really popular. We’re doing well. Your piano accompaniment made it special. So it’s not just my success, but yours too.”
“But you wrote it,” she said, in that self-effacing way of Theadora’s. For a gorgeous-looking woman, she lacked vanity. “Are you working on any other pieces?”
“I am. But I’m not going to busk or do gigs for the moment. I’m making a living from downloads. Orson’s been plugging it.”
“How is he?” Her lowered voice reminded me of that big question that hovered over my head.
Orson knew of my pregnancy. Unlike Ethan, he’d taken it calmly. He also suggested that if it was his, he would get me to sign something. No surprise there.
I told him I didn’t want anything from him. And the look of relief on his face acted as a reminder that I didn’t really like him much. He was great at making music and money, but too selfish for anything else.