After the Honeymoon by Janey Fraser Read Free Book Online

you’ll miss those supplies you’re after.’
    Rosie flushed. Her son was no fool. He could sense the vibes between his mother and this man whom he’d known all his life. It was almost embarrassing, but something in her warned that if she didn’t take this leap of faith, she might regret it.
    ‘He’s right,’ said Greco firmly, placing his hand on her shoulder again. ‘We must go.’
    Rosie stood there for a moment, looking from the older man to the younger. ‘You’ll look after the new guests when they arrive tomorrow? They’re newly-weds. It’s their honeymoon. So don’t forget the rose petals on the bed and the heart-shaped chocolates and—’
    ‘Mum.’ Jack’s voice had an edge to it that she’d never heard before. ‘I’m not a kid any more. Give me a chance. Please. Besides, you need to enjoy yourself. See you in three days.’ He hugged her. ‘And have a great time.’

TRUE HONEYMOON STORY
    ‘My husband flaked out at the reception so I put him to bed and then went back to the party. I had a great time.’
    Anonymous, now divorced

Chapter Four
    EMMA
    ‘Mummy! What’s a hornymoon?’
    Gawain’s blue eyes stared trustingly up at hers, with that clarity and utter belief in another person that only came from a child. ‘Granny says you and Daddy are having one – without us.’
    Emma knelt down on the floor of the village hall, flicking away a piece of pink horseshoe confetti which had got caught up in the folds of her off-white taffeta bridal gown, and took her son’s small, warm hands in hers.
    ‘Actually,’ she said, ignoring the titters around her, ‘it’s called a
honey
moon.’
    His eyes widened. ‘Is that cos it’s made of honey from the moon?’
    Carefully, she tried to find the right words that would be truthful without denting the wonderful image in her son’s head.
    ‘What a lovely idea, but the moon is really made of rocks.’
    He was frowning now. ‘But what
is
a honeymoon?’
    Emma tried to sound bright, brushing away her own misgivings. ‘It’s a holiday when two people who have just got married go away for a few days on their own.’
    There was a sniff from a passing great-aunt. ‘Usually people do it
before
they’ve had kids. Still, better late than never.’
    Ignoring the barb, Emma gathered her son to her, breathing him in. God, she felt awful – and not just because she’d finally done it. Given Tom the wide gold ring that they had chosen together. Received one in turn – just as Gawain, all done up in his pageboy costume and flashing-light trainers, had called out, ‘Mummy! I need a wee-wee!’
    Everyone in the church had roared with laughter, including Tom, but Emma could have wept. Didn’t that prove that her children needed her? How could she possibly leave them for a whole week?
    Ever since Bernie and the girls had sprung the surprise wedding present on her, Emma had felt horribly uncertain and wobbly. She and Tom had never once left the children overnight: even when Willow had been born, she’d made sure she was out of hospital and back home before Gawain’s bedtime so they could all be together.
    Now, just because others had decided that a honeymoon was the thing to do, she was being torn away from the two people who meant most to her. Even more, she had to admit, than her own husband. Of course she loved Tom. But it was a different kind of love from that all-consuming, unconditional passion that meant she wouldn’t think twice about running in front of a car to push her children to safety.
    Would she do the same for Tom?
    Of course.
    Maybe.
    ‘Can we come too, Mummy?’ Gawain’s voice came out muffled against her too-stiff skirt, making her heart twist in pain. How handsome her little man looked, with that jaunty red bow tie, even though he’d insisted on wearing his Spider-Man costume underneath. How vulnerable. So, too, did Willow, fast asleep in Tom’s arms now, thumb in mouth, orange juice spilled down her bridesmaid’s dress. They needed