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Chapter Text

October 2009

Rebecca lowered herself into the chair by her husband's hospital bed.

Married less than 2 years and here she was on what was supposed to be an unremarkable Tuesday, preparing to give the doctors permission to turn off life support.  

They’d been so gentle with her, explaining everything in layman's terms, so she’d understand that there was no hope of recovery.

Honestly she’d suspected that for hours, since the moment she’d walked into his hospital room late the previous evening, to find Rupert hooked up to a ventilator and various other machines.  Seeing how unhappy the Doctors were with each test result that came in until the moment the neurologist looked her in the eye and told her there was no brain activity (and she nearly bit her tongue through to stop herself from letting loose a snarky remark about him not having much in the first place).

Not the time or place Rebecca.

Taking a deep breath she regarded her soon to be dead husband.

“Well…” she took another deep breath “I suppose this is it then, 2 and a half years of my life down the drain.  Better than 5 or… god even 10…”

Of all the indignities he could have left her with.

She stands and leans down to whisper in his ear “I want you to die knowing I will spend the rest of my life destroying everything you built.  Your precious club, your business, your name… none of it will be left by the time I’m finished and it’s your own fault.  You just had to fuck around, couldn’t control yourself, chasing after all the pretty young things… I hope they were worth it!”

Rebecca straightens up to her full height and takes a moment to smooth any wrinkles out of her dress before striding out of the room.  Once all the paperwork is signed, she walks out of the hospital with her head held high.

Two hours later she’s already on the jet flying south and she can’t quite work out why she feels nothing but rage and relief.

By the time the news of Rupert Mannion’s death breaks, Rebecca is happily ensconced on their… no her, yacht in Majorca.

The full details of Rupert Mannion’s death were plastered all over the news, Rebecca made sure of it.  He’d been indulging in fine wine and women at an upscale London club when a young woman he’d been ‘dating’ came across him and that night's conquest.  Things had escalated quickly and badly, one moment he’d been smirking at the two young women ostensibly fighting over him, the next he was on the ground, someone having tripped over a handbag and knocking him over causing him to strike his head first on the edge of a table and then on the stylish polished concrete floor.

By the time his wife arrived at the hospital and had security escort both women off the premises he was brain dead.

It just took the Doctors time to complete all their tests and confirm there was nothing they could do.

From the yacht, Rebecca instructed her solicitors to have his body cremated and advised that she would not be organising or attending a service of any kind.  If someone else wanted one they were free to do as they pleased.

When a helicopter flies overhead containing a photographer, all she does is give them the finger while they take photos of her sunbathing naked.

It’s a week before her ire cools enough to be willing to start dealing with his estate.  Her instructions are simple…

Sell everything but the club, don’t barter or negotiate.  She doesn’t want the best price, she doesn’t care, she wants nothing but the cash.

It takes months to liquidate all of Rupert’s holdings, once that’s done she terminates the agreements with his hand picked people and hires a new financial manager and solicitor to ensure she will be able to maintain the lifestyle she deserves.

All this is done from her yacht on the Mediterranean.

As for the club, she appoints a proxy, a man who she knows has no business acumen and fewer social skills.  She can watch from afar as Rupert’s beloved Greyhounds slowly crumble, made all the more satisfactory with the knowledge of her fathers love of the team.

She ignores the requests for interviews, the boats full of photographers, the articles calling her an ice queen, gold digger and all sorts of other nasty things.

A little more than 6 months after Rebecca becomes a widow, she finally ventures back to the mainland for longer than a quick visit to a small seaside town to shop or visit an upscale salon and checks into a suite at the Hotel de Paris in Monte Carlo.

She has no plan, and even considers leaving when she realises the Grand Prix is that weekend, but after a moment's consideration decides to stay.  

Grabbing her book, she heads down to see if she can find somewhere to read and drink in peace for a while.

And if she manages to find a good fuck all the better.

Hours later, as the sun is setting she’s sitting comfortably in a wine bar by the sea lost in her book.  She doesn’t notice the blue eyes watching her from across the bar, intrigued by the statuesque blonde seemingly happy to sit alone reading and sipping her wine.  He watched as she ignored everything going on around her as though she didn’t have a care in the world, yet he suspected there was more going on beneath the surface.  The more he watched her, the more he wanted to know.

Eventually he gathers his courage and his beer and stands to make his way over to her table.

“Hello?” He makes sure not to stand in her sun.

Rebecca turns to face the stranger standing by her table and raises a well manicured eyebrow at him.

At that moment he realises he’s made a grave miscalculation… he’s Dutch and they’re in Monaco where the official language is French and he has no idea if she speaks either.  With a fortifying breath he decides to try for english and hope for the best.

“I saw you sitting here all alone and I thought, I have to say something to this beautiful woman…”

Rebecca blinks in surprise and holds back a smile.

“Yes?”

He smiles bashfully back at her and shrugs “Honestly, I haven’t thought any further ahead that this…”

“Ahh” Rebecca nods and finally lets a small smile through.  He wasn’t a traditionally handsome man but there was a kindness and mischievousness in his eyes.  He was tall, probably a bit taller than her which was a change and fit as well.  Not the type of fit people got at the gym to show off but the type of fit due to an active lifestyle.

He might be the decent fuck she was hoping to get.

Marking her page, she places her book on the table and holds her hand out.

“Rebecca”

“Matthijs…” he takes her hand gently and shakes it “Mooi”

Hours pass with the two of them drinking and chatting.  First about her book, then about others they had read and enjoyed.  They then move on to music and movies.

They stay away from heavy topics, politics, religion, work and such.

They order a bottle of wine to share, followed by another before drunkenly making their way back to Rebecca’s hotel.

The fucking is as good as she hoped.

More than that she enjoys Matthijs’ company.  He’s intelligent, funny and kind.

If asked she would admit it was lust at first sight.

She wakes up the next morning hungover, with a heavy arm draped over her back and snoring in her ear.

For a moment, all she wants to do is kick him out of her bed and nurse her hangover alone and in peace but memories of hours of laughter and chatting from the night before take over so instead she leaves him to sleep.

Rolling out of bed, Rebecca heads to the bathroom and takes care of the most urgent need and then calls down to have breakfast delivered.

By the time Matthijs wakes up Rebecca is sitting out on the balcony once again reading while sipping her tea and munching on the pastries.  Seeing his shadow, Rebecca turns to smile up at him.

“Morning…” she waves her hand at the table “help yourself”

They end up spending a week together, watching the race during the day, spending their evenings at the casino or in whatever bar struck their fancy and their nights in Rebecca’s king size bed.

Rebecca hasn’t laughed this much in a very long time and the day Matthijs needs to return to Erp she realises she wants more time with him.  She wants to see where this will go and it terrifies her.

They’re sitting on the balcony in the early morning sun, hands entwined as they’re enjoying the quiet when Matthijs turns his head to study her profile.  The sun glinting off pale blonde hair, pale green eyes lit up and such a relaxed and content look on her face that he wanted to see it everyday.

“Gezellig…” he whispers.

A laugh bubbles out of her and she turns to him with a blinding smile, finally asks something that had been bugging her since that first evening “You keep saying that word… or are you just choking?”

“Gezellig. That one?” he smiles back, he makes sure to say the word as throaty as possible.

“That's the one.  Come on then. What does that mean?”

“What... Uh…” he stammers slightly and pauses to think about it “I don't know. Uh, gezellig.  There is no direct English translation, I think.  It can mean cosy. Like a warm fire.  Gezellig.  But you can also keep your mind gezellig.”  He lifts their hands and presses a kiss to her knuckles.   “Hmm.  You know, your heart, your soul.  The people you're with.  The places you go.  You know?  Even this, right now, here is…”

“Gezellig.” she whispers.

“Exactly.”

Rebecca knows in that moment she wants more time with him but she also knows she’s terrified of what that means.

She manages to keep herself in Monaco for 3 days after Matthijs leaves, 3 days that are filled with text messages back and forth between them when he isn’t working and phone calls late into the evening about everything and nothing.  

Wanting a second opinion and having missed her best friend and god daughter for the last 6 months Rebecca heads back to the UK for the first time since Rupert’s death.  Flying into Stansted airport allows her some anonymity and she manages to slip into Chelmsford without media attention.  

Sassy is delighted and yanks Rebecca through the front door so hard the two of them end up in a giggling breathless pile on the ground.  Darren looks on with a smile and two year old Nora joins them.

Late that night, Rebecca and Sassy are curled up together on Sassy’s comfortable lounge, a second bottle of wine being poured from and Nora and Darren are both fast asleep upstairs.

“Well Stinky, are you going to tell me…” Sassy pauses for a moment trying to work out which question to ask first, she finally decides on an all encompassing one “What the fuck?”

When Rebecca smirks, Sassy pushes on “I mean, one minute we’re on the phone planning a girls weekend with Jo and Cat and the next old grey walnuts is dead and you’ve disappeared off to the Mediterranean with barely a text message to explain!”

“You saw the papers?” Rebecca asks and continues when Sassy nods “In my entire life, there’s only one time I’ve been more angry than I was that day.  He had been cheating with multiple women since the day I first agreed to go out with him.  I decided then and there that I was going to spend the rest of my life spending his money on things he would wholly disapprove of and deconstructing everything he had built.” She paused to take a healthy mouthful of wine “Charities he was privately derisive of have all received healthy donations, Nora has a trust fund and I’ve been wasting my days indolently away.  You and Darren in need of anything?”

“Nah, the million you dropped in my account was more than enough” she clinked her glass against Rebecca’s.  It had been a fact of their life since the day Rebecca moved to town that her family was wealthier than Sassy’s.  Rebecca was always willing to share what she had but this was the first time she’d outright gifted a large amount of cash to her friend.

“Excellent!” Rupert would have disapproved immensely at the idea of helping out Sassy and Darren.

“I get all of that and I will happily support you all the way but there’s more… what else happened?”

Rebecca bit her lip shyly and blushed “I decided it was time to get back on dry land and Monaco is historically uncooperative with paparazzi so I figured it would be relatively safe…” she hesitates “I met someone…” Rebecca finally spits out.

Sassy’s eyes lit up in glee “Someone as in a good fuck or someone as in a good fuck plus?”

“He’s definitely a good fuck…” Rebecca blisses out momentarily at the memory of Matthijs’ talented tongue and fingers “as for the plus… there’s definitely potential there…”

“But?” Sassy asked.

“I… I’m not…” Rebecca stuttered slightly and then took a deep breath to gather her thoughts “He’s a pilot, in the Dutch Airforce… he’s everything Rupert wasn’t.  I laughed more in a week with him than in 2 years with Rupert…”

The entire week comes pouring out, everything they did together, the conversations, the fun.  When she finally runs out of things to say, Rebecca takes a deep breath and confesses the final part “Matthijs invited me to visit him in Erp and it took everything to come here instead…”

Sassy tilts her head to the side and considers her friend seriously “you want to see if it can be more than a holiday fling?”

“I really, really do…” she admits.

Rebecca stays with Sassy and Darren for a week.  Her days are spent with Nora while the toddler's parents work and evenings laughing over good food and better wine with her best friend and husband.

3 days in, she gets up the courage to ask Matthijs about visiting.

I have some free time next week.  How would you feel about a visit?

The hours before he responds are spent on tenterhooks.  Rebecca knows it’s her own fault, she messages in the middle of the day when he is on base and can’t respond.

In the mid afternoon he responds with confirmation that she is welcome whenever followed by a love heart.

Sassy smirks at the smitten look on Rebecca’s face and wonders how long it will be before she’s bringing Matthijs for a visit.

It’s incredibly different to the Rebecca two weeks into her relationship with Rupert.  At the time, she’d been incredibly coy about the three dates they had been on but Sassy had heard all about his visits to the club and the huge tips leading up to Rebecca’s agreement to go out with him.  

Sassy had never been able to work out what had made Rebecca clam up after the first date but she can imagine.

“They’re jealous darling and they’ll never understand us.  Better to keep mum about it all”

Now though, she’s hearing stories and seeing pictures and the genuine smile on Rebecca’s face in all of them… even when they are making silly faces together quells a lot of the worry.

That Friday, she drives Rebecca to the airport and sends her to the Netherlands with a strong hug and a smile.

Matthijs greets her at the other end with a kiss and takes her back to his houseboat on the Aa river where he cooks them dinner while Rebecca pokes around and unpacks her things in his bedroom.  Considering he’s only lived in it for a month, it’s really quite cozy.

A month later she’s still there.

It’s evolved into a quiet existence, Matthijs working on base while Rebecca restarts the classes required for her MBA.  The warm summer evenings are spent taking long walks through Erp or sitting up on the deck watching the sun set and drinking wine.

Her bike riding skills were incredibly rusty when she arrived in the Netherlands but improve quickly over the weeks.  Rebecca finds it incredibly freeing, getting on a bike to pop down to the shops or riding down to the local pub for dinner.

They go out with Matthijs’ friends who quickly start to become Rebecca’s friends as well.  A few meals pass and she’s being invited out for coffee, lunch and drinks independently.

Matthijs seems happy that she is starting to make her own connections here and in the back of her mind it occurs to Rebecca that Rupert would have reacted in the opposite way.  He never liked it when she went out without him, he much preferred her life revolved around him. 

In July, they spend a weekend back in Chelmsford with Sassy, Darren and Nora and as they’re preparing to leave Sassy whispers in Rebecca’s ear “I think you found one of the last good ones… atta girl Stinky!”

As far as Rebecca is concerned, that is the platinum test.

When they get home, and it is home now, Rebecca decides it’s time to fill him in on some of the things she’s talked around but never about.

Matthijs worked out very quickly that Rebecca has money, is wealthy enough that she doesn’t need to work and has a high enough passive income that she never will.  The suite in Monaco, yacht and private jet give him an idea but he’s never asked about specifics.

Her lack of skills in the domestic area was also quite telling but he was quite happy to keep cooking for them while teaching her the basics.

“You’ve never asked me about money?” She questions gently as they’re sitting up on deck enjoying the warm evening.

“You always seem to have enough to pay your own way so I never worried.  I knew you’d bring it up when you were ready.”  Yet another stark difference between the two men.

“Some of it is from a trust fund my father set up for me when I was born.” A healthy mouthful of wine is swallowed for courage, he knows she was married and her husband died not quite a year before.  “Most is from selling off Rupert’s estate.  He was cheating constantly and flagrantly during our marriage so I dismantled everything after his death.  Sold most of it off and reinvested it.  I’m more than comfortable, I can afford to buy us any house or boat we want and not even miss the cash.”  She hears his breath catch as the implications of her ‘us’ and ‘we’ hit him.

Rebecca gives him a moment to process before pushing on.

“The one thing I didn’t sell is the football club…” Matthijs is a lifelong football lover and diehard FC Utrecht fan.  She’s not entirely sure how he’s going to react to the news she’s a majority owner in an English premier league club.  “Rupert was a lifelong Richmond Greyhounds fan and purchased the club 15 years ago.  I kept it and appointed a manager to run it for me…”

“Neuk mij” he whispers.  Rebecca’s Dutch is only slightly better than non-existent but she knows that particular phrase.

“Quite so…” she agrees, the next part she’s expecting a similar response to but with a very different tone “Said manager is an old friend of Ruperts and is rather incompetent and I have no doubt he is slowly but surely running the club into the ground.  When the time is right, when Richmond is at its lowest, my plan is to go back, fire him spectacularly, dismantle the club, sell it off for nothing and leave the last of his legacy in tatters.”

Matthijs sat back and blew his breath out as he processed what he had just been told.

He’d known her for 2 months but they were two amazing months.  What he’d initially assumed would be a holiday one night stand had quickly become a friendship that could perhaps evolve into love and he had been genuinely upset when he’d had to leave her behind in Monaco.  Each day he’d looked forward to her messages and speaking with her, her silly but dry sense of humour leaving him in stitches more often than not.

After 5 weeks of living together he didn’t want to think about not being with her.

Matthijs had known about her marriage, about her husband and how he had died and Rebecca hadn’t been shy about the fact that she wasn’t actually mourning him.  Any grief she may have felt for the man had been burnt away the moment she arrived at the hospital to find the two twenty something girls screaming at each other over him.  

She grieved the years she gave him and not the man himself.

“Well… that was the plan…” she mused, her anger gone and had become genuine apathy as the months passed.  “I suppose if I hadn’t met you, hadn’t discovered this amazing thing the universe had in store for me I might still be invested in it in some way but now I’m wondering if it would be better to just sell the club now and be rid of it all.”

“I think…” he paused to make sure his thoughts were in order “There’s something you can’t quite grasp… something stopping you from taking that step and until you work out what it is, it is better to do nothing.” he turned his head to smile at her “And in the meantime we’ll eat good food, drink good wine and make beautiful love together.”

In August Matthijs took Rebecca to Hoorn to meet his parents.

Matthijs has been teaching her some basic Dutch phrases, so she is inordinately pleased with herself to greet them in their native language.

“Het is leuk je te ontmoeten” ( It's lovely to meet you )

It’s awkward for a while, Matthijs admitted to her it’s been years since he brought anyone home to meet his family and they’d started to think he would be perpetually single, or at least single until he left the military.

Rebecca missed the hushed conversation late on Saturday afternoon between Roosje and Matthijs where his mother expressed her concern about Rebecca’s intentions.

They weren’t a wealthy family, but they were comfortable and Roosje could see her son was smitten with the statuesque English beauty but worried about if she was after anything.  A military pilot was a risky profession and Roosje didn’t want anyone using him.

At first she didn’t believe him when he claimed Rebecca wasn’t after the status of bagging a pilot or his military benefits.

“Mama…” Matthijs wasn’t entirely sure how to explain without telling his mother things Rebecca wouldn’t be ready to share.  “Trust me, if anything it’s the opposite, just…” he blew out a deep breath “give her a chance, get to know her.”

Roosje squinted at her son suspiciously.  With all of his intelligence and military background, she knew her son was a dreamer and romantic.

It isn’t until Matthijs drags his mother into the study and shows her the Richmond website and owners page that she starts to come around.

Seeing Rebecca’s smiling face on the screen startles her more than she would admit.

The features are the same but the smile doesn’t quite reach her eyes.  Roosje can see a stress and deep unhappiness in the photo that isn’t there anymore.  She quickly scans the short biography, daughter and wife of lifelong fans, who inherited the club as part of her late husband's estate.

So she takes a step back and sees the way Rebecca gives her complete attention to whomever she is speaking with at that moment no matter who it is, the way her entire being lights up when she sees Matthijs, the way she watches Roosje and Joris warily, seemingly sensing something is holding them back.  Now that she’s looking for it, Roosje can see how unsure she is to navigate this particular part of the family dynamics.

In fact, watching Matthijs interact with his parents and sister is somewhat outside of Rebecca’s experience.

She’d had friends with so called normal families that she’d spent time with on weekends or after school and while slightly baffling Rebecca had always seen it as an ideal to achieve.  Sassy’s parents were just as dysfunctional as her own, just in a different way and looking back she could see where they both used each other.  Rebecca to experience a home that was open and passionate, Sassy to find a place that was quiet and she could be alone with her thoughts.

This was different again.  The genuine affection and joy the de Graaf’s took in each other was something she had longed to be a part of for as long as she could remember but she had no idea how to fit into it.

Matthijs had raved about how welcoming and loving his parents were so finding herself with a slightly chilly reception hurt more than she expected.

As the afternoon wears on, Joris starts to warm up and discovers he and Rebecca have the same sense of humour and once the two of them start giggling over a joke, they don’t stop.  It takes Roosje a little longer but by the time dinner is over, she is starting to see what Matthijs was trying to tell her.

It takes another two visits over the following months before Rebecca would categorise her relationship with Matthijs’ mother as friendly.  By Sinterklass, Roosje is genuinely happy to see Rebecca and hugs her warmly when the couple arrive.

On the one year anniversary of Rupert’s death, Rebecca refuses to acknowledge the day in any way shape or form.  As far as she is concerned there is nothing to mourn or celebrate and she doesn’t want to think about him.

She wants to live.

Rebecca doesn’t even think about seeing her parents for Christmas until he brings it up in late November.

“No need” she shrugs when he asks if they should at least pop over for a flying visit “Neither of them have bothered to reach out to me since a few months before Rupert kicked it and I have no burning desire to see them either.”

It doesn’t make sense to Matthijs, the blase attitude Rebecca has towards her parents but it’s her relationship with them and he chooses not to interfere.

One day she’ll tell him the entire story, for now he settles for the bits and pieces she and Sassy let out when they’ve indulged in a few too many glasses of champagne.

They do end up going to the UK and spending Christmas morning with Sassy, Darren and Nora before heading into London where Rebecca then introduces Matthijs to one of her own personal traditions and they spend the afternoon delivering presents to families who don’t have the means to purchase them themselves.

It’s a side to Rebecca he knew was there but hadn’t personally seen before.  Matthijs was aware that she gave financially to quite a few charities and did remote work for them for free but in the 9 months they had been together he hadn’t seen her get directly involved until now.  It has always been behind the scenes and fairly anonymous.  Watching the way she engaged the children without shaming their parents was beautiful to be a part of.

When he compared it to the way she dealt with her business associates or Cyril at the club it was quite the paradigm shift and he knew there were very few people in the world that she allowed to see this soft side.

Life continues on for them, and it feels like she’s blinked and Matthijs is coming home with flowers to celebrate their first anniversary.

As agreed, the day is kept low key, Matthijs had extracted Rebecca’s promise that no grand gestures were required.  The flat she’d bought for his birthday near his parents had left him stunned as had her casual question about if he wanted his own plane.  

As summer fades and autumn sets in they only settle further into the content little life they’ve built for themselves.

Rebecca heads back to the UK every couple of weeks to visit Sassy and Nora and it’s after one such visit things start down a new path.

Matthijs could sense Rebecca was in a strange mood when she got home from a week in the UK with her best friend and god daughter not long after the second anniversary of Rupert’s death.

As they stood together in the kitchen, freshly showered and in their comfortable robes he nudged her hip so he could get to the fridge.  She finally looked at him, eyes bright and glassy, silently he plucked the wine glass out of her hand and put it on the bench.  Once both their hands were free he pulled her close and wrapped his arms tightly around her and he waits.

She would tell him eventually, she always did, after 18 months together he was well attuned to her.

Rebecca presses her face against his neck and after several tense moments lets out a shuddering breath.  She felt safe here in his boat, kitchen and arms, more than that she was comfortable and cherished and loved and most of all happy.  She didn’t want any of this to go away but this might be the day it did.

She’d already had one relationship where she’d let her partner's desires override her own.  This time she wouldn’t, she knew what she was willing to compromise on and this wasn’t one of those things.  If this wasn’t something he wanted, as heartbreaking as it would be, Rebecca is willing to walk away.

“I want to have a baby…” she whispered so softly that Matthijs had to strain to hear, she may have been quiet but the longing in her voice was clear.

He didn’t speak straight away, but he did tighten his hold on her and a broad smile spread across his face.  He wasn’t sure when he began to envision a possible future with little ones running around, he hadn’t even allowed himself to truly dwell on the possibility just yet as it was something they had only ever discussed in the vaguest of terms.

“Ok”, he finally murmured, “Babies are good, I like babies.  Our babies will be smart and beautiful and tall.” The breath Rebecca hadn’t realised she was holding exploded out in a wet huff as he continued speaking “more than one we’ll probably need a bigger boat”

“I can buy us any size boat we need…” she pulled back enough to lock eyes with him.  Rebecca takes a moment to study his face and the truthfulness of his words.  Seeing the same man she had fallen in love with over the last 18 months, he had the same open and honest face.  Slowly a bright smile crosses her face and she pushes forward to kiss him.

They have small conversations that night, confirming this is not just something they want individually but something they want together.

The next day she books in to have her implant removed as soon as possible.

END CHAPTER 1

Chapter Text

Chapter 2

October 2011

Weeks pass and they don’t discuss the implications of either their discussions or that they’re having unprotected sex.  Both Rebecca and Matthijs are content to leave things be for now.

Matthijs continues to go to base everyday and Rebecca continues working towards her MBA and doing volunteer online and admin work for various charities.

It isn’t all quiet conversations and relaxed evenings.  They’re both passionate and opinionated people, their arguments can be long and loud as they attempt to turn the other around to his or her point of view.  Cruel words are never thrown around and maliciousness doesn’t find purchase.

Both enjoy the challenge and the sex when it is all over.

They dance to jazz music, sing along to songs in Dutch and English… Matthijs continues to teach Rebecca to cook.  Her Dutch improves by leaps and bounds, and their friends no longer laugh at her butchering of their language.  Matthijs no longer laughs at her butchering of their meals.

They laugh long and hard.

Matthijs surprises Rebecca with a weekend on the beach in Genoa for her birthday on the first of December.

Their second Sinterklaas together is again spent with his parents and sister, they don’t bring up their decision and the holiday is fun and relaxed.  

Once again, Christmas morning is spent with Sassy, Darren and Nora and the afternoon trekking around London delivering presents, this time Matthijs eggs on Rebecca’s wild stories about Santa’s reasons for running late.

Boxing Day morning is spent at the flat Rebecca had owned since before her marriage and the only piece of property she hadn’t sold off as part of the estate.  It had been her only major purchase when she had turned 25 and was able to access her trust.  At the time, she was loath to live off the trust her father set up, wanting to be as independent as possible she had taken the job at Bones and Honey to pay the bills while she continued to study.  Admittedly, Rebecca was self aware enough to know she had it much easier than her colleagues and classmates, not having to worry about making rent and always having a fallback just in case.

“I suppose we should look at a bigger place to be our London base.” She mused offhand before starting to draft an email to her solicitor.  A part of her didn’t want to give up the cosy little flat, but it was barely big enough for the two of them, let alone a baby.

“Do we want another riverboat, a flat or a townhome?” She starts listing her personal criteria on the email.

Rebecca briefly considers Surrey proper as an option but quickly discards it, no need to risk being so close to her parents.

She’d like to be close enough to Richmond in case she needs to return for long periods of time, not too far from an airport or the city.

Maybe Fulham or Chelsea.  Kensington would work as well.  They throw different ideas back and forth but don’t manage to settle on anything so the email remains unsent.  There’s something niggling in the back of her mind about this, something that doesn’t quite feel right.

In the afternoon, Rebecca attends her first Premier League match since leaving over 2 years before.  The Greyhounds are as mediocre as ever and don’t win, nor do they let Newcastle run up the board on them, the final score being 1 - nil.

Matthijs is more excited to attend the match than she is.  A number of people try to engage her in conversation about where she’s been for so long and what her plans for the club are but she waves them all off and refuses to comment or commit merely stating that ‘Cyril has everything in hand’.

He spends the car ride back to the flat staring out the window thoughtfully, his hand resting gently on her thigh, her confession about the club and their conversation about a bigger place in London playing over in his mind.  Rebecca leaves him to his thoughts, knowing him well enough by now to be confident he’ll speak to her about whatever is on his mind eventually.

When they are curled up on the sofa together, he must finally come to a decision and voices what he has been thinking about.

“I can retire with a full pension in 7 years.”  On the surface it’s quite a random comment, but there are so many layers to his tone that tells her it’s part of a much larger conversation.

Rebecca doesn’t respond verbally, but laces his fingers with hers and squeezes lightly; she's well aware of how seriously he takes his commitment to the RNLAF.  It was something she was incredibly proud of and she’d decided privately she would never ask him to change, never ask him to give his commission up for her.

“We both know we want to be together and we want to have a baby but we haven’t really talked about what that’s going to look like…” he pauses and sighs when she doesn’t say anything but pushes on.  “Will you be ok if I stay in until then?  Once I’m retired we can come and live in London or wherever you want, with our babies?” It startles her a little every time he uses the plural, they don’t even have one baby yet, but here he is talking as though they’ll have more.

Rebecca isn’t entirely sure where this is coming from, but she suspects this isn’t a new thought.  She’s been having much the same thoughts about their future, and is relieved he’s bringing it up now.

“Right now, I just want to be where you are,” she admits out loud for the first time, “and I want us to be happy.  If you want to stay in, then stay in and if you want to retire sooner, don’t worry about the money.  I can support us with no problems and you can work as a commercial pilot or do whatever you want so let’s remove money from the equation.  I’m happy as we are right now, what the next 6 or 12 months or even 6 years will bring I can’t say but…” she takes a breath as a thought occurs to her “how about we make a deal.  Every year on the 26th June and 26th December we take a day, a time out for just the two of us and do this.  We go out together, do something fun and then we sit quietly and make a final decision on what we want the next 6 months to be?”

“Ja… I like that.  So for me, I am happy with our life.  It is quiet and gezellig and fun and maybe in 6 months we will have a baby on the way, but I want you to promise to tell me if it gets too much… if you’re not happy for me to stay in.”

“Hmmmm, I promise but I need the same from you…” Rebecca hums contentedly as strong fingers start to play with the waistband of her pants searching for space to slip inside.  “We have a good plan… I’m happy with that as well” she sits up just enough to take his wine glass and place it along with hers on the coffee table and then swings her body up to straddle him.

Late that night while Matthijs is in the shower, Rebecca is poking around a property website and sees one for sale that immediately catches her eye.

It has everything they could want and more but it’s not quite right.  The niggling thought from earlier finally coalesces into a full blown realisation.  If it was just her from 5 or even 3 years before, the city would be where she would want to live, but it’s not.

Matthijs loves the wide open spaces of Erp and she’s grown to love them as well.  She wants somewhere quiet and calm to raise a family, a garden for them to play in and streets that aren’t busy.  Closing the page she starts to search further out and closer to Richmond Park.  They can keep the flat as a place for just the two of them close to the city but the house will eventually be a home.  She sees a couple of properties that are close but not exactly what she is looking for.  Opening up the email to her solicitor, she lists her requirements and instructs her to engage an estate broker to find the type of property she is after.

Once the holidays are over, they settle back into life in Erp.  Winter in the Netherlands is very different to winter in London and on the coldest of days Rebecca remains inside the boat curled up in front of the fire, working through her MBA one subject at a time.

She doesn’t care how long it takes her, she’s just happy to be using her mind properly.  It was something that she’d noticed fairly quickly that Rupert didn’t appreciate, much preferring his wife to be something beautiful to look at and not someone intelligent to speak with.  At the time Rebecca hadn’t noticed how insidious his comments were, constantly correcting her (even when she was right), interrupting her, disrupting her studies.

He never seemed to appreciate that the only reason she was working at Bones and Honey was to support herself while studying so she didn’t need to touch the trust from her father.  Promises of continuing to fund her education after they were married remained unfulfilled.

As January slides into February, Matthijs starts to notice a slight change in Rebecca.  She starts sleeping longer in the mornings, some days she’s barely stirred when he’s leaving for base where before she would get up with him and start her day.  Food she would previously eat with gusto is picked at and he catches her grimacing a number of times when certain smells waft past, wine is waved off as not in the mood for.  She doesn’t bring anything up so he leaves it and continues to watch her closely.

In a bag in her drawers, underneath her socks Rebecca has several pregnancy tests.  They’ve been there for weeks, since she first started feeling sick.

She wants to take one, she knows she should take it and she’s fairly certain it will be positive given her symptoms and that her period is now nearly four weeks late.

But she’s scared.  

She desperately wants this, desperately wants to believe that this is what her body is telling her.

She’s seen friends and heard about acquaintances go through months and years of heartbreak with every month that passes and given it’s only been 4 since she went off birth control it’s almost baffling to believe she is already pregnant.  A part of her was expecting a year to pass, the doctors visits to start only to be told it could never happen for them.

So she ignores it, pretends that the nausea isn’t getting worse, that the exhaustion doesn’t make her want to cry.  She pretends that some days she’s not so bloated she can’t do up her tailored trousers or that she’s currently going braless more often than not while she waits for new ones to be delivered.

She pretends until they’re on their way to London for Matthijs’ birthday and she spends the entire flight in the bathroom, hunched over the toilet bowl.  Even when there is nothing left in her stomach it continues to spasm and in that tiny bathroom, Matthijs manages to slide in beside her and pull her over to slump against his chest as unchecked tears stream down her face.

“Are you going to take the test now?” he asks, having been watching and waiting for weeks for her to either go to the doctor or take the test.  It hadn’t been hard to work out why she was hesitating so he let her, but now he felt it was time to stop letting her hide.

After several long seconds she nods her head “Fuck it…” her stomach spasms again “Yeah… when we get to the flat…”

This was not the way she wanted his birthday to go.

He finally gets her up back back into her seat just before the pilot announces they are beginning their descent and he watches her worriedly as her normally healthy complexion remains an ashy grey green all through their landing and the drive into the city.

He pours her into bed, confident that a nap will do her the world of good and she can take the test he caught her shoving into the bottom of her bag when she wakes up.

Matthijs will never tell her that her attempts at subtlety over the last month have been completely unsuccessful.

In general Rebecca is not a subtle person.

Rebecca sleeps through their 6:30 reservations, finally waking a little after 7, feeling only slightly better and not at all up to going out.

When she does open her eyes, it’s to the sight of Matthijs’ pyjama clad hip and the feel of his warm hand resting on her back.  The nausea seems to have abated for now and the edge had been taken off the exhaustion but she could tell it wouldn’t be long until she was back asleep.

“I feel like I’ve been run over by a fucking lorry…” she murmured as she rolled closer to him, slinging an arm over his thighs and pressing her face to him.

He just hums and twirls loose strands of hair around his fingers.

“It hasn’t been this bad…” she promises “today is the first time I’ve projectile vomited… I think it was the flying…” a contented purring noise rumbles out of her throat as he continues to play with her hair at the nape of her neck.  He makes note of this reaction for later reference.

“I know…” several long moments pass before Rebecca pushes herself upright and then needs to take several more as a wave of dizziness washes over her.  Once it has passed, she stands and heads over to where her bag is sitting on a chair…

“Bathroom sink…” Matthijs calls out softly, having already retrieved the test for her.  Looking over her shoulder, Rebecca smiles and nods weakly and makes her way into the ensuite.

He waits patiently as she uses the toilet and presumably takes the test.

“Can you set a timer for 3 minutes?” She calls out and he sets the countdown on his watch.

When she comes back out, he can see the nerves radiating off her, instead of saying anything he lifts his arm in a silent invitation that she takes and crawls back into bed to curl up against him.  Sensing she’s not in the mood for small talk, he wraps his arm around her, pulls her close and continues to read his book.  When his watch starts beeping, Rebecca jumps but doesn’t actually move.  Pressing a kiss to the top of her head, he puts the bookmark in and places it on the bedside table.

“Do you want me to look?” he asks, already knowing the answer and receives a silent nod in return.

Less than 30 seconds later, he’s back by her side test in hand.  The broad smile on his face is comforting as he holds it up in front of her eyes.

Rebecca blinks slowly and then blinks again slowly processing what she is seeing.

Pregnant

Tears pool in her eyes and she pitches forward throwing her arms around Matthijs’ neck.

“Thank you…” she whispers into his ear.

That night, Rebecca finally admits the true reason behind her hesitation.  The wound Rupert had left that she hadn’t even realised he made until it was all over and he was dead.

“It’s not that I thought I could change the twats mind…” she confessed “It’s that I let him convince me to give up my wants.  Looking back, I can see so clearly what he did.  Little comments here and there, nothing overt that would make me turn around and leave.  But enough to make me believe I didn’t really want children, that I liked the idea of children… that I would never enjoy the mess and chaos they bring or the change to our life… I think he wanted to be the centre of people’s universe.  He didn’t like the idea that someone else might be more important to me…”

“You were ready to leave that night if I said no, weren’t you?” Matthijs was stunned by the selfishness of the man Rebecca had been married to.

She can’t respond verbally so she just nods against his chest, one day she would admit to him the plans she’d been thinking of just in case… how she would stop looking for a partner to do this with, instead going down the IVF path on her own.  How the thought of getting her implant removed without telling him had even crossed her mind… she’d banished it as quickly as it came, the idea of trapping him in that way was abhorrent to her.

He promises himself then and there that he’ll never stop her from going for what she wants.  He starts to wonder and question her apparent affability with their current life.  She seldom complains or asks him for anything but he wonders how much she is giving up to live in a tiny town in the middle of the Netherlands for him.

Matthijs never wants her to look back on this time with regrets.

The next morning, while she is still not feeling the best, Rebecca orders a car to take them over to Petersham.  She’s been looking forward to this since she got confirmation from her solicitor that the offer had been accepted.

“I know we never really finished our conversation about a place here in London, but I saw this and fell in love with it immediately…” Rebecca is almost giddy with excitement as they stand in front of the stunning late Georgian house.  “It ticks all our boxes, plenty of space, the garden is huge and it backs onto Richmond Park, but it needs a ton of work…”

Matthijs stands there, staring at what is apparently their house.

“... if I ever meet the fucker that did this, we will have very unpleasant words…”

Wordlessly, he follows the tugging on his hand, through the gate and up the front path.

“... but really, it means we can do what we want, make it our own…”

He almost recoils back when she pulls him through the front door.  If the entryway was any indication of the rest of the house the ‘a lot’ of work was an understatement.

“...honestly, we’re in no rush, it’s not like we’ll be living here permanently or anytime soon but I couldn’t resist…”

When she tries to keep moving down the hallway of the nearly decrepit house she is brought to a sudden stop by Matthijs who doesn't move and who’s hand is still gripped tightly in hers.  Turning to face him she is brought up short by the look on his face…

Rebecca can’t tell if he is happy or not and her heart drops and the nausea rises.

“Are you…” she stutters slightly “do you not like it?  I can buy us something else… I just thought…”

Matthijs feels as though he’s been slapped by the unsure look on her face.  Is this something else Rupert used to do?  Not let her be excited about something, tell her she’s being ridiculous or childish?   He quickly tries to reassure her.

“I love the house and if you think we can make it perfect then we can make it perfect” he pulls her close and wraps his arms around her waist “I’m just a little worried because this hall doesn’t look exactly safe…”

“Perfectly safe” she reassures him, relieved that he was only worried about their safety “I got the contractors report earlier in the week…”

They spend the next two hours going through the house from top to bottom, planning out what they wanted to do where.  From the wine cellar and home gym in the basement to the master suite on the second floor and bedrooms and reception room on the top floor that they hope one day will be a perfect retreat for teenagers with their friends.

Dinner is spent with Darren and Sassy who watches her best friend suspiciously when Rebecca turns down wine to drink water all night but no big announcement is made and Sassy doesn’t push.

When they get home, Rebecca books in the first appointment she can with a midwife and by the end of the week it’s confirmed. She’s officially 9 weeks pregnant.

The next few weeks pass by in a haze of nausea and exhaustion for Rebecca and quiet excitement for Matthijs.  

They don’t tell anyone until Liberation Day, they spend the 4 day weekend with his parents in Hoorne.  It doesn’t take Roosje and Joris long to pick up on the changes between the couple.  While the nausea had abated, Rebecca was still battling the exhaustion and it was evident on her face.

And the fact that as soon as they arrived, Rebecca practically passed out on the sofa.

Chatting quietly with his parents, catching up with them on the last few months with Rebecca’s head in his lap, Matthijs played with the hair at the nape of her neck.  As he’d discovered in London it turned her into a purring ball of mush.

He would never say it out loud but much like a cat, Rebecca had turned up in his life, demanded his food, affection and bed and refused to leave.  Occasionally a little feral, hissing and scratching when threatened but infinitely loyal and loving when she was given the same in return.

He wouldn’t have it any other way.

Despite his mothers pointed looks and questions Matthijs doesn’t officially give anything away until after Rebecca wakes up and they’ve eaten dinner.  

Once again, Rebecca turning down wine gives her away but this time they confirm their dinner companions suspicions.

“I’m pregnant.” Rebecca’s smile is blinding “Due in late October…”

Roosje squealed and jumped up and ran around the table to pull Matthijs into a hug which Joris did the same to Rebecca.

She tried to imagine her own parents being so openly joyful, unfortunately her imagination wasn’t up to the task.

She remembers a time she felt safe and loved in her fathers arms.  Unwilling, tears spring to her eyes as Joris holds her close and whispers in her ear.

“Je gaat een geweldige moeder zijn” ( You’re going to be a wonderful mother ).

“Bedankt” ( Thank You )

Late that night, or early the next morning, Rebecca isn’t sure which, something wakes her up… after going to the bathroom she can’t get back to sleep.  As quietly as she can, she makes herself a tea, and slips out the back door and into the garden.

Now retired, Roosje was infinitely proud of her garden and spent hours everyday that she could, lovingly tending to the flowers, herbs and vegetables.  It was one of the things they’d initially bonded over.  Rebecca loved having flowers around but didn’t know much about gardening, giving Roosje a captive audience and student and while she and Matthijs didn’t have an actual garden she’d gotten quite adept at maintaining the plants they did have and creating a beautiful flowered haven up on their deck.

She loved sitting out here in Roosje’s garden.  It was peaceful… but here in the dark of night, Rebecca struggled to shut her mind down.  When they had decided to tell Matthijs’ parents about the baby earlier in the week he had asked her when they should tell hers.  Apart from the occasional text message from her mother, Rebecca hadn’t seen or spoken to either of her parents in nearly 3 years.

She should feel something about the distance, but she doesn’t.  She doesn’t miss them, she doesn’t feel as though there is some kind of gap in her life.

She doesn’t jump at the sound of the door sliding open, then closed again.  A fresh tea is placed on the table beside her and a blanket is dropped in her lap by Joris who sits in the chair next to her.

Rebecca hadn’t realised how cold she’d gotten until this moment and gratefully wrapped the blanket around herself.

“I thought I heard someone up.” he murmured and rubbed a gentle hand up and down her arm.

He’s where Matthijs gets his gentle and casual affection from.

Raising her eyes, she studies the stars still trying to work out why she was so unsettled when it hit her…

“I’m trying to decide when or if to tell my parents about the baby…” 

Joris doesn’t know how to respond.  He knows Rebecca’s parents are alive but not much more, he knows his wife has asked Matthijs pointed questions about Rebecca’s family but hasn’t received much information other than the basics.  Rebecca is an only child, her parents are both alive and living in Surrey and he hasn’t met either of them.  With this in mind he asks an open question and lets her speak at her own pace.

“Do you want to tell me why?” he asks as gently as he can.

Rebecca doesn’t know how long she sits in silence before the words start pouring out.

“When I was a little girl I would spend hours following my father around… I adored him… and I thought he adored me. He would do the dance from Singing in the Rain, carry me around on his shoulders… we would go on adventures in the fields behind our house…” she swallowed back her tears “Then one day… a Friday… my mother was away for the weekend and I was staying at my best friend's house but we were 15 and a little bit out of control and snuck back to my place to nick a bottle of wine…”

Joris didn’t interrupt, he suspected that this story wouldn’t have a happy ending.

“I heard a noise, a bang I think and we went to look and I found my father in bed with the neighbour… in all his glory with his arse in the air… Sassy and I ran, he tried to follow us but we didn’t stop and he couldn’t keep up… when I went home the next morning he said nothing…”

She drew in a deep and shaky breath.  It had been so long since she’d spoken of this to anyone.  Even Matthijs only knew the bare bones of the story.

“I don’t know if my mother knows or suspects.  Every couple of years, she leaves him, they move on, then he buys her some expensive environmentally friendly gift and she goes back to him… to my own detriment I learned not to comment or interfere…”

Out of the corner of his eye, Joris catches a lone tear sliding its way down her cheek.  Reaching back out, he takes her hand and squeezes it gently.

“I’d much rather my children not be exposed to that type of relationship” she finally admits.

Joris doesn’t speak for a long time, he thinks back to the phone call he had with Matthijs the day he got back from his week in Monaco.  He had heard the change in his son’s voice, suspected instantly he had met someone.  Then a few weeks later the occasional ‘we’ was being dropped into the conversation, by August a name and a little bit of detail was given every time he spoke with his son.

Rebecca.

It was also that August when he brought Rebecca home for the first time.  Joris had liked her straight away, liked the way she looked at his son and despite any worries Roosje made up in her head he knew then they had something real.  Something that would be hard, that they would need to work at.  Something that would be worth it if they put in the work.

That first weekend he’d seen how comfortable Matthijs and Rebecca were together, how much they’d already entwined around each other while maintaining their own individuality.

Every visit they were more and more in step together, yet still walking to the beat of their own drum.

He wasn’t as surprised by this afternoon’s announcement as he pretended to be and neither was Roosje, they’d suspected it was only a matter of time before a grandchild was on the way.

But this… this surprised him and at the same time it made so much sense, Rebecca made so much more sense now.  The way she sometimes looked so bewildered at the family dynamics and even shied away from them.  Those first few visits when the rest of the family would sit and play cards or a board game, she would struggle to navigate her way through those evenings of them sitting around the dining table, drinking, laughing, joking.

Now she was comfortable enough to join in, to laugh and joke and tease and confide.

Comfortable enough to sit with him and share her secrets in the middle of the night.

He considers her words carefully, not quite sure what she wants, if anything from him.

“I think sometimes, people who are not so good parents can make wonderful grandparents and vice versa and only you can decide if the risk is worth the reward.” 

He doesn’t want to push her one way or the other, Joris also doesn’t want to make a judgement until he’s met Paul and Deborah Welton.

“Hmmm” Rebecca hums eventually “I suppose I’m looking for a reason to go one way or the other but I’m struggling to find one…” she drained the last of her tea and turned her head so she could look him in the eye.  “I’m glad we’ll have you and Roosje either way, that our baby will have you two as grandparents.”

She stands and leans over and presses a kiss to his cheek “and thank you for raising such a wonderful son.”

“Rebecca…?” he calls softly, causing her to stop and turn around “If you want, you can call me Pa, like Matthijs does and I know Roosje won’t mind you calling her Mama…”

He stands and lets her throw herself into his arms.  

“Thank you Pa…” she whispers.

Rebecca sleeps in the next morning.

When she finally gets up, Roosje hands her a cup of tea and gives her a blinding smile when Rebecca mumbles “thanks Mama” as she slumps down in the sunniest seat in the kitchen.

When they finally get home late on Sunday evening it is to find Deborah Welton sitting on their front door step.

“Mother?” 

“Hello Darling!” Deborah smiles brightly “I left your father.”

Rebecca promptly turns around and throws up in the bushes.

END CHAPTER 2

Chapter Text

May 2012

Fortunately, Deborah doesn’t expect to stay with them and has booked herself into a hotel in town.

Matthijs manages to get Rebecca inside and into the shower, while he offers Deborah a cup of tea and they devolve into awkward silence until… 

“How long have you been sleeping with my daughter?” Deborah finally asks, causing Matthijs to choke on the sip of tea he’d just taken.

“Ahh, we’ve been together two years” he finally answers when he can breathe again.

“And you live in a boat?” Deborah looks around the cozy room, it was the exact opposite of the type of place she expected to find Rebecca.  All throughout it she could see touches of her daughter and this man she knew nothing about until Darren let it slip that Rebecca was living with someone at an event hosted by Sassy’s mother.

She’d promptly picked a fight with Paul, packed her bags and headed for the Netherlands.  Upon arrival in Amsterdam, it had occurred to Deborah that she didn’t actually know where in the country her daughter was currently living.

So she’d gone to a hotel and started to go through the recent correspondence from the solicitor that handled Rebecca’s trust.

Deborah occasionally wondered if Rebecca left it alone and in their control on purpose, a last connection and a way for them to find her if they needed to, she touched it so rarely, yet when she did there was always a clue to her current whereabouts.  In that correspondence she found a receipt for the transport of a couple of Rebecca’s smaller pieces of art to an address in Erp and so had booked herself a driver and a hotel a few days later.  Looking around, she can see those pieces on the wall.

Unfortunately no one was home when she arrived on Saturday.  After waiting several hours, she’d gone back to the hotel and decided to try again the following day. She was just about to give up again when the car had pulled up.

She was desperate to snoop around this tiny little room instead she studied the handsome Dutch man her daughter had met and moved in with sometime in the 2 and a half years since her husband had died.

“We do,” Matthijs smiled as he responded to her question about living on a boat, “it suits us just fine.” 

It was clear to him, by the look on Deborah’s face that she had already judged their home as wanting.  Already decided that it wasn’t good enough for her daughter, but this wasn’t a fight he would step into unless Rebecca asked him to.  Much like his parents were his responsibility, Deborah was hers.

The silence is just starting to become awkward again when Deborah asks another question.

“Do you have a job Matthew or are you living off my daughters inheritance?”

“It’s Matthijs” he corrected gently, not letting his anger at the insulting question show through “And I’m a pilot.”

“He’s a Major in the RNLAF…” Rebecca’s voice interrupts from the bathroom door causing them both to turn and look.  Having heard her mothers question, her voice is hard enough to crack, not liking Deborah’s implication.  She still looks pale and wan but not quite as exhausted as she did when they arrived home.

“So, what’s my father done now?” She takes the tea Matthijs offers to her and blows gently to make sure it’s cool enough to sip as she leans against him, soaking in his silent support.

Deborah considers asking about Rebecca’s lunch making a spectacular reappance 20 minutes earlier but knows her daughter well enough to know she’ll discuss it when she’s damn good and ready and not a moment before.

“He doesn't listen to me.  He doesn't respect me.  And Esther Perel says it takes two people to create a pattern but only one to change it.  I am that change.”

This is nothing new to Rebecca, she’s heard it all before multiple times but she does feel Matthijs’ grip on her waist tighten slightly.

“So you left him and came to the Netherlands?” Rebecca prodded.

“Of course I came to see you sausage.” Deborah looks affronted at the question.

“Normally you head to The Rosewood and swan around London claiming to be a changed woman until your husband buys you back…” Deborah reels back as though slapped but Rebecca doesn’t stop. “...and the last time you came to me it took you 9 months to decide to speak to me again after I congratulated you for finally leaving him, so excuse me if I’m a little skeptical of your motives…”

“Oh stop acting like a child, Rebecca.” Deborah shoots back immediately, stunned by her daughter's words and the hard look on her face.  It seems her conversation with Joris had left her a little bit raw on the subject of her parents' marriage.

Rebecca’s mouth opened to fire back but no sound came out for a long moment, finally she shook her head and let out a deep sigh.

“You know what Mother, I’m not doing this tonight.  I’ll call you in the morning and we’ll organise lunch.”

Sliding out of Matthijs’ arms, she headed to their bedroom and slid the door closed behind her with a final thud.

“She really hasn’t been feeling well.” Matthijs shrugged, if Rebecca didn’t want her mother here, then he would make sure Deborah left no matter how upset she looked.  “Do I need to call you a taxi?”

When he comes back inside after making sure Deborah actually got in the car, Rebecca is at the sink rinsing her tea cup and he can see immediately that she’d been crying.

He’s about to speak, when he sees her phone to her ear and immediately assumes she’s on the phone to Sassy so he’s shocked when he hears his fathers name.

“...Hey Pa… I was wondering if we could continue our conversation from the other night…”

Trusting his father to look after her and that Rebecca would fill him in later, Matthijs decided to go for a shower, he didn’t get far as Rebecca snagged his wrist and pulled him over to sit on the sofa with her.

Hearing Rebecca going to his father for advice and comfort both relieves and saddens him.  That she is building such a strong relationship with his family is amazing, but he can see that for every inch she comes closer to his parents, it’s further away she’s moving from her own.

But from what she’s told him, it’s been happening for over 15 years and he just gave her people to move towards.

As the conversation continues, Rebecca settles further and further into his body, her head resting against his chest.  Letting her voice wash over him, he drapes an arm over her body and his hand comes to rest on her hip for a moment before sliding down a little bit further and into her pants so he can feel the soft skin of her lower belly where it’s paunching out ever so slightly. 

The midwife had warned them at their 12 week appointment that between Rebecca’s height and solid abdominal muscles to not be surprised if it took a while for her to start really showing.  For now, it was something for just the two of them.

Eventually, Rebecca stops speaking and the only sound is Joris’ voice coming through the phone and Matthijs realises that she’s fallen asleep listening to his father telling stories.  Lifting the phone to his ear, he quietly interrupted his father.

“Hey Pa… Rebecca’s asleep.”

Deborah isn’t invited back to the boat.

Instead, Rebecca sends her the address of one of her favourite restaurants in Erp in the hope that things will remain relatively civil if they’re in public.

Admittedly, Deborah was more likely to remain calm than Rebecca was.

Their lunch is the same as all of them since Rebecca moved out of home and Deborah started to leave Paul every few years.  Rebecca had no doubt her mother would be back in that drafty old house in Surrey within the week.

While Deborah spoke on a wide variety of topics, Rebecca tried to give as little information away as possible about her life.  It wasn’t that she didn’t trust her mother, she simply wasn’t ready for this kind of intrusion into the life she was building with Matthijs.

So she has lunch with her mother every day that week, letting Deborah talk about any topic that takes her fancy.  There is the occasional pointed question about their plans for the future, if they are going to marry or plan to return to England accompanied by not so subtle glances at Rebecca’s midsection.  At the end of every meal Deborah walks away disappointed at Rebecca’s continued refusal to confide in her.  Deep down, she knows she has no one to blame but herself and her husband.

Paul hasn’t been silent either, calling her daily with promises they both know won’t last out the year.

Either way, after a week in the Netherlands, Paul finally manages to find the right gift to bring Deborah back.  As Rebecca and Matthijs are getting ready for the day the Saturday after she appears, Rebecca’s phone vibrates with an incoming message, focussed on her hair she doesn’t notice straight away and it’s not until she picks it up to leave does she see the message from her mother.

With a heavy sigh, Rebecca reads it out loud.

“Darling, your father apologised and sponsored a Beaver sanctuary for me.  Catch up next time you’re in London xoxo Mum”

She closes her messages without responding and shrugs, pretending it doesn’t bother her.

Matthijs pulls her into a tight hug and presses a kiss against her temple.  They stay like that for several long minutes before she pulls away.

“Right then… best move on.”

Life continues.

They wait another two weeks before Rebecca snaps a photo of the 12 week ultrasound and sends it to Sassy.  Almost instantly her phone rings and her best friends' delighted screams can be heard throughout the boat.

Summer starts and by the end of June Rebecca is visibly pregnant, while she was able to feel the baby wiggling gently Matthijs couldn’t yet.  They were still debating over whether to find out the gender or not, Rebecca was changing her mind weekly on if she really wanted to know.  At this point Matthijs was disagreeing with whatever she said because he could and she knew it and let him.

As promised the previous December, they take the last weekend of June and head to West-Terschelling.  They spend the Saturday wandering the town, seeing the Brandaris lighthouse and 't Behouden Huys museum.  They don’t risk a ferry trip, Rebecca is still sensitive to unpredictable movement but hike out to the sand dunes early on Sunday morning to sit and watch the grey seals sunning themselves.

Lunch is eaten back at their hotel, on a balcony overlooking the Wadden Sea.  

Raising a challenging eyebrow, Matthijs doesn’t say anything letting Rebecca take the lead.

“I’ve got nothing,” she shrugs.  “You’re healthy, I’m healthy, baby is healthy… my MBA is going well, you don’t have any problems at work… I’ve got no issues to bring up that we haven’t already addressed.  The next 6 months for me is preparing for the baby and then their first 3 months.  I don’t think anything needs to change.”

“I agree,” Matthijs leans forward to take her hand in his “which is why I’m going to bring this up now… I don’t want it to fester or become something down the road.  I was reading up on some of the government paperwork required for when the baby is born and between that and something your mother said…” Matthijs had no idea how Rebecca was going to react to this.  “I went and spoke to a solicitor, mainly to make sure I understood it all correctly.”

Rebecca nodded for him to keep going, she was trying to get better at jumping to conclusions, it was a work in progress.

“I was looking at what we would need for the birth certificate and it turns out if we aren’t married or in a registered partnership I need to formally acknowledge the baby…” he held up his hands “Don’t panic, I know you don’t want to be married again right now and you know how I feel about it.  I’ve got all the information for you to go through and we can make a decision together on how we’ll navigate it…” he takes a deep breath “Anyway your mother made an offhand comment about me living off your inheritance.  Financially we come from different worlds, your investments earn more in a day than I do in a year.  It’s a fact and it’s not going to change, but I think we do need to sit down and work out how we’re going to navigate things moving forward and possibly put some protections and agreements into place.”

Rebecca nodded slowly, it had taken them a while and a few fights to find their current balance when it came to finances.  The fists full of cash she handed to him to assist with the bills and rent had apparently been overkill and once they sat down and worked out their actual budget she made sure the cash for her share was left for him every week.  Groceries were split evenly and they took turns paying for meals out.

“Like the house in London, I love it and I agree it will be a perfect home base for us in the UK, but on my own?  I simply can’t afford to just buy a place like that to live in.  What about schooling for the baby?  You could afford to send them to any school in any country.  What I’m saying is, let’s start to have these conversations.  I’m not saying we need to pick a school now, just make sure we know how we’re going to navigate it.  Same with a home, we both know our family will outgrow the boat in the next few years and that you could buy us anything we want without hesitation but that’s not fair on either of us.  Admittedly, splitting the bills with you has left me with a lot more disposable income that I’ve been investing so I’ve built up a respectable little savings account but nowhere near your level.”

Putting the last bite of dinner in her mouth, Rebecca chewed slowly as she considered what he was saying.  Once she’d swallowed, she lay her fork gently on the plate and leaned back in her chair, hand automatically resting on her belly that had finally popped out the week before.

“We’ve sort of been living and let live with money…” she finally comments “as long as all the bills get paid neither of us is really worried about what the other does financially.  I guess… I don’t think that needs to change when it comes to household finances.  Although I do still think the split could be more equitable, I’m not up for that argument right now…” Matthijs chuckles, that had been a doozy of a fight.  Rebecca passionately trying to convince him to go to an equity split rather than equal split.

She’s not proud of it but she almost won as well when she resorted to flashing her boobs at him.

“But you also mentioned protections…?” She’s positive she knows where this part is going.

“I’m happy, things are good right now and I can’t see that ever changing but as you said we don’t know where things will be 6 months or 6 years down the track.  One of the women on base had been with her partner 20 years before they split up and things got nasty.  Every little thing is a fight, and it’s destroying her because they can’t agree on anything.  I’m wondering if we should come up with a plan for the worst case scenario so just in case we can pull it out and say here, this is what we agreed to when we weren’t angry so this is what we’re doing.  It would also ensure that the laws of wherever we are living at the time won’t force a division of assets you came into this relationship with.”

A part of Rebecca hated the idea, it was the gut punch of setting them up to fail.  Then her logical brain kicked in as his words penetrated through.  There was common sense to this approach and she could see he wasn’t very happy about bringing it up but did it anyway.

“Sort of like a pre-nup without the nuptials…” she mused, Matthijs nodded, relieved she was taking this so calmly.

“Ok, how about we each go back to our solicitors, draft up what we each feel we can live with and what we are willing to compromise on and what we are not.  They can then hammer out an agreement to be reviewed at set intervals, say every 2 years?” Rebecca proposed.  “Let me talk to my solicitor about the financial question as well.  The cost of living in Erp is significantly lower than say London or Amsterdam so whatever agreement we come up with will need to take into account changing location as well.”

“And if I get reassigned…” Matthijs mused and huffs out a laugh at the startled look on Rebecca’s face.

“Didn’t think of that…”

The possibility of reassignment burrowed into Rebecca’s mind and wouldn’t settle.  Over the few days after they returned home from West-Terschelling, she tried to work out why.  By the time Friday rolled around, she hadn’t had any luck and knew a conversation was in order so when Matthijs got home that night as they sat up on deck in the warm summer evening she finally brought it up.

“How likely is it that you’ll be transferred?”  This is probably something they should have discussed months before.

Sitting back, Matthijs thought back through his career and the rumours he’d heard recently.  He wanted to be honest with her without worrying her needlessly.

“It’s hard to say.  They’re disbanding the 311 squadron in September and it’ll take a while for things to settle and reassignments to be completed so the chances of me being reassigned within the next year are slim but not impossible.” he turns his head just in time to see relief wash over her face.  “Considering I’ve already completed 2 tours to active war zones, unless I volunteer for it, I doubt I’ll be deployed again…”

“Please don’t volunteer…” Rebecca doesn’t realise she says this out loud until he squeezes her hand tightly and brings it up to kiss her knuckles.

“I’ve done my time in the desert, unless something drastically changes or I’m ordered back there I plan to be right here.” he waits for her to nod that she’s heard him before continuing “That being said, there’s a chance I’ll be transferred internally in the next couple of years.”

“Ok…” Rebecca took a deep breath and then another processing Matthijs’ words “So, if we need to move chances are it will be somewhere here in the Netherlands… and there’s also a very good chance you won’t be deployed overseas…” she takes another breath “I can deal with that.”

“If, and it’s a very big if, if I do get deployed again, don’t stay here.” While they had some very good friends here in Erp, it wasn’t the same as having family close by.  He didn’t want her to be alone with the baby. “Go stay near Sassy or my parents…”

Rebecca hum’s, it’s not a decision she wants to think about right now, but then the weekend had brought up a number of issues she had chosen not to think about.  It appeared that wasn’t the best method of dealing with things.

“We’ll talk about that if it ever comes to it…” is all she’s willing to promise, after another moments pause she continued.  “I was looking at the paperwork you gave me and if you want I’m happy to register and I’ve got my solicitor getting all the documents together as well as drafting my side of the agreement but I don’t think we’ll get it all done before baby gets here.”

“So romantic…” Matthijs chuckles, he’d been hoping she’d agree to a registered partnership.

“You’re Dutch” she fires back immediately “You prefer blunt practicality.”

At the beginning of the 3rd trimester, Rebecca finally makes the decision to tell her parents about the baby.

She has no doubt her mother filled her father in on the fact that she was living with someone on a houseboat of all things and while she wasn’t planning on opening up full communication with them any time soon, it still felt right to let them know they were going to be grandparents.  Pulling up the same picture she sent to Sassy, Rebecca attached it to an email and sent it to her mother.

Hopefully, they would assume she is only just at 12 weeks and believe the baby will be here in the new year and not October and stop her mother from appearing on her doorstep without warning.

She’d already needed to convince Sassy not to come and stay as soon as she hit full term.  She loved that her best friend had offered but Rebecca didn’t want anyone but Matthijs there with her.  

Meanwhile, she was using her time between work and study to put her credit card to good use shopping online and in the town as well.

A part of her was tempted to go nuts like Sassy had and create the pinterest perfect baby room like they had for Nora years earlier but then Rebecca remembers those early days when the room was nothing but storage space and by the time the baby was sleeping in there, nothing suited.  Instead, she keeps it plain and simple, Roosje and Joris come down for a weekend and help Matthijs paint and put together furniture.

They end up with a cozy little room that will suit anyone who comes along.

Roosje makes a number of pointed comments about the size of the boat, worried about space as the little one grows but neither of them care.

“If it really becomes an issue we’ll find somewhere bigger, but we’ve agreed that moving in the next 6 months is complete madness.” Rebecca laughs and then grimaces as a foot lodges itself in her diaphragm.

“Baby doesn’t like it when I laugh” she reassures a concerned Roosje while gently pushing at the spot she’d worked out would get them to shift, after a few moments they did just that and Rebecca could breathe properly again.

While she’d enjoyed being pregnant for the most part, it was at the point where things were starting to become exceedingly uncomfortable.  

The midwife was happy with both baby and Rebecca’s health and everything was on track for late October.

Two weeks before her official due date, Rebecca was standing in their kitchen.  Stuck to the fridge was two lists of names, some were crossed off, others were circled or underlined.  Different pens and handwriting had added and removed options over time.

They’d almost come to a consensus over a girls name, they had it narrowed down to two names and just needed to decide on a first and middle name.

Although, Rebecca didn’t have a middle name and wasn’t convinced the baby needed one either.

They still had 3 boys names sitting there, they both had their favourites and weren’t willing to budge just yet.  

The day she officially hits full term, Rebecca is standing staring at the list of names and decisively crosses off ‘Koen’ and puts a red circle around ‘Jelka’.

Matthijs should be happy with that.  He’d been lobbying for Jelka for a girl for weeks now and she really had no issues with the name.  It was pretty, she’d just been holding out giving her approval of it so she could get her preferred boy's name.

Leaning back against the bench, she unseeingly stares at the names breathing deeply through what she’s not sure is a braxton hicks or real contraction.  If she’s honest, the regularity of the contractions she’d woken up with, tells her they’re the real thing.

At her last appointment, the baby had dropped, she was slightly dilated and the midwife had confirmed the baby could come at any time and there didn’t appear to be any issues.

Anytime was that day as within a couple of hours, the contractions were rolling through her body every 10 minutes.

Matthijs was trying not to hover, he could see the strain on her face and did his best to support her without crowding her.  It was a balance he’d been trying to find for months and he still wasn’t sure how successful he had been.

Just after the lunch she barely touched, things sped up enough for them to head down to the birthing centre.  It doesn’t take long for the midwives to get her settled into a room and they spend the next few hours pacing around until things start to speed up just after midnight.

Just after 3am their son is born, perfectly healthy, long and skinny like his parents, Romejin looks up at his mother with his father’s face, except perhaps for the chin.

Whether his eyes stay blue like Matthijs’ or transform to Rebecca’s clear green, only time will tell.

“Look what we did…” she whispers as Matthijs kisses her temple and holds her close as the baby rests on her chest, first breath and first cry completed and now he’s resting.

As soon as the medical team is confident that all is well, they fade into the background, monitoring Rebecca and the baby but letting the new family of 3 bond.

As the sun is rising, they’re settled into their room. Romejin and Rebecca have passed all the tests with flying colours Matthijs slips out of the room to call his parents.  When he slides silently back in, it’s to find Rebecca fast asleep with Romejin curled up on her chest after Rebecca had refused to put him down.  They’d both had a tough 24 hours and needed the sleep.  Watching Rebecca labour to bring their son into the world had been one of the hardest things he had ever done.  He couldn’t even imagine how hard it had been on her.

Lowering himself down into the recliner next to her bed, he lets his eyes slide closed for what feels like only a moment but when he opens them again it turns out an hour has passed and Romejin is awake and testing out his voice with little grunting noises while Rebecca speaks softly to him.

“I know… it’s been a tough day… we’re all very tired… papa is sleeping… yes you can cuddle with him when he wakes up…”

“I’m awake…” he finally interrupts and grins tiredly as she shuffles over and pats the bed beside her.

“My mother is crazy…” he murmurs and slides into the space Rebecca just made for him, letting her lean into him as she passes the baby gently to him.

“What’s she done now?” Rebecca winces slightly, she loves Roosje to bits but she can be a bit odd.

“When she got my message yesterday, she caught the train down here.  According to her, she cleaned the boat top to bottom and left us with a freezer full of meals.  She’s now on a train back home and will come for a proper visit when we are ready.”

“Are you telling me, your mother spent over 3 hours on public transport, broke into our home, cooked and cleaned for us and now she’s spending another 3 plus hours to get home?”

Matthijs nodded.

“Without stopping in to see the baby?” Rebecca is stunned “Jesus Christ… I mean don’t get me wrong, I know we said no visitors in the hospital but I wouldn’t have turned your mother away…”

“She’s desperate to see him, but she said when you’re ready you tell her when to come and she’ll be here.”  

“Hmmmm” all she knows is she wants to get home and then she’ll make a decision.

An hour passes in companionable silence, Romejin warm and comfortable against his fathers chest when Matthijs speaks softly.

“I’ve made a decision…” he murmurs into her hair.

“Yes?” Rebecca doesn’t move, too comfortable and too tired.

“If you don’t want more babies, then that’s ok and if you do want more babies one day that’s ok with me as well… watching you pregnant and then giving birth was amazing and scary and I’ll love whoever comes along, I’ll also tell you if it gets too much for me but when you say stop… we stop.”

“Ok…” Rebecca mumbles, barely awake “houd van je…” ( love you)

“hou ook van jou…” ( love you too )  

Less than 24 hours later, they’re discharged and back home in their cozy little boat.

With hot and cold running nurses and healthcare professionals at the centre it’s a bit of a shock when it’s just the 3 of them.  With Matthijs on paternity leave for the next 6 weeks, they spend the next week sequestered at home with only the Kraamzorg nurse coming and going.

Her help is invaluable, answering their questions, giving them tips and tricks on surviving life with a newborn.

As exhausted and still sore as she is, Rebecca feels something sliding into place.  It’s hard… especially late at night when Romejin is gassy and just wants to cry and it seems no matter what she does she can’t fix it or make him feel better but she can’t imagine what her life would be like if she didn’t have him.  Those first few hazy days trying to establish a good rhythm, the three of them sleeping in fits and bursts, she is so incredibly grateful at the direction her life had taken in these last three years.

The irony of her son being born 3 days before the anniversary of Rupert’s death is not lost on her.

Where would she be if not for a stray handbag?

END CHAPTER 3

Chapter Text

October 2012

By the time Romejin is two weeks old Rebecca and Matthijs feel as though they are starting to get a handle on life with a baby and are ready for visitors.  Admittedly, she’s never been this tired in her entire life and the theory of having a baby is much different to the reality of having a tiny helpless human relying on her 24 hours a day.

Months later, Joris will admit to Matthijs that Roosje had had their bags packed and ready to go for the entire 2 weeks, she was just waiting for the official invite.  Romejin was the first grandchild and their excitement was palpable.  They’d accepted years before that Imke would never settle down and was happy with her life as a single nomad, wandering the world and popping home for a visit every now and then and that at heart Matthijs wanted a family and just needed to find the right person.

Fortunately they don’t expect to stay with them, instead booking into a bed and breakfast nearby.

Rebecca remembers stories from her friends about nightmare mothers and mothers in law, who barge in demanding they be waited on hand and foot while sitting there, cuddling the baby and criticising everything… she’d seen it with Sassy and Darren’s mother and Rebecca is infinitely grateful she ended up with the other type.  Roosje wanders in, takes one look around and starts cleaning.  As far as Rebecca is concerned, everyone deserves a Roosje.

It is something Roosje and Deborah eventually find in common.  Once they love something, they love it forever.

“Mama, that can wait…” Rebecca calls out softly as she comes out of the bedroom with Romejin in her arms “come and meet your grandson.”

“Oh” Roosje jumped slightly with a gasp as she turned to stare at them and before she could blink Rebecca was in front of her gently handing the baby over.  Both Matthijs and Rebecca had sent innumerable photos and videos in the last fortnight but it wasn’t the same.

Roosje gasped again as tears sprang to her eyes, it was like looking 35 years into the past.

“Romejin, I’m your Oma, Jor, come see…” she whispered as she sank down onto the sofa.

“He should have a full belly, and does have a clean nappy, no idea how long either of those will last...” Rebecca smiles tiredly, accepting a hug from Joris who can feel the exhaustion bleeding from Rebecca.  “You two can be his majesty's warm body to sleep on for the next little while, I’m going to shower and nap, wake me if he needs to be fed or the boat is burning down…” she turned and strolled to the bathroom without another word.  15 minutes later she slips back out in Matthijs’ fluffy blue robe and disappears into the bedroom.  The owner of the robe had greeted his parents then dropped into and dozed off in the armchair.

Joris and Roosje smirk at each other, they both remembered the first days of parenthood well.

“That’s your nose…” Roosje whispered to her husband.  It was the same nose Matthijs had and Joris’ father had as well.  The de Graaf nose gene was a strong one.

“Matthijs’ eye shape but the colour will be Rebecca’s…” Joris predicted as he reached out to gently run his fingers down the baby soft skin of Romejin’s hand, with a grunt the baby’s tiny fingers turned and wrapped around his Opa’s.

Two hours later, Rebecca blearily makes her way out of the bedroom to the smell of stamppot and the sound of a grizzling baby.  Her gaze darts between the bathroom and the baby, trying to decide if it is worth it to use the toilet before the unhappy sounds turn into full blown screams.  The pressure in her bladder and still healing pelvic region makes the decision for her and she waves at Joris in acknowledgement and makes a beeline for the bathroom while Roosje chuckles from the stove.

Lowering herself down on the sofa, she takes the offered baby from Joris and gets him latched on to feed.  It still didn’t feel quite natural but was getting easier by the day.

“Water, tea or juice?” Roosje calls out softly, not wanting to wake a still sleeping Matthijs or startle the baby.

“Juice please but cut it with water, half and half…” another recommendation from the nurse to keep both her hydration and blood sugar up.  Seconds later a glass is placed in easy reach along with a bowl of bitterballen.

“Easy to eat one handed and should tide you over until lunch…” Roosje leaned down and kissed her gently on the cheek as Rebecca’s stomach let out a loud gurgle.  She’d been warned that it would feel like she couldn’t keep herself fed while she was breastfeeding but she hadn’t expected the sheer amount of food she required right now.

Lifting her feet up to rest on the coffee table, Rebecca leans back with a sigh, 2 hours of uninterrupted sleep was not enough but it had taken the edge off and she felt up to actual conversation.

“Sorry about earlier, he’s been cluster feeding until 2am and then gassy as hell after that so our sleep cycle is completely fucked.”

Joris waves her apology off “It’s fine, we were the same when Matthijs was two weeks old and would you believe my mother did the exact same thing for Roosje?  Sent us off to nap and then cooked and cleaned like a fiend for us.  Roosje remembers how grateful she was and promised herself to do the same for Matthijs and Imke.  Her mother on the other hand…” Rebecca didn’t need him to elaborate, Matthijs didn’t have many good things to say about his maternal grandmother.

“That’s a tradition I can get behind, assuming I end up a grandmother.” Rebecca returns his smile, fingers running lightly through the baby’s pale, downy hair.

Frowning at the odd object digging into her back, Rebecca put the juice down and reached behind her and pulled out Matthijs’ phone.  Looking up to see him still fast asleep, she gave in to her better devils and threw the unused throw pillow at him to wake him up.

“Oi!  de Graaf!  Wakey wakey!” she called as Joris burst into laughter and Roosje shook her head.

With a heaving gasp, Matthijs shot to his feet his gaze darting around the room wildly.

That morning set the tone for the rest of the week.  Roosje and Joris would come over, Rebecca and Matthijs would hand over the baby and go for a couple of hours of uninterrupted sleep and then they would spend the afternoon and evening chatting and keeping each other company with all five of them going on short walks before the sun set.

By the end of the week, Rebecca and Joris were no longer allowed to partner up for canasta and the teams became women versus men.

On top of that, Rebecca finally felt as though she had gotten the hang of changing the nappy of a little boy.  She hadn’t been peed on in three days and felt that was quite the accomplishment, Roosje’s suggestions had helped immensely.

Matthijs was still working on his ducking speed.

With a promise to come back for a weekend in two weeks time, knowing Rebecca and Matthijs weren’t planning on travelling with the baby until Sinterklass, Roosje and Joris headed home, leaving the little family to themselves.

It’s after they’ve left, Rebecca finally gives Sassy the go ahead to come visit and she brings Nora over for a long weekend to meet the baby in early November.

Watching her five year old cuddling her best friend's 3 week old baby under Matthijs’ watchful eyes, Sassy wrapped her arms around Rebecca from behind and rested her chin on her best friend's shoulder.

“Fucking hell Rebecca… we make fantastic babies…” Sassy whispered.

“And if anyone tells me to grow a pair in the future, I have the proof that I have in fact, grown a pair of testicles right here.” Rebecca whispered back, knowing Sassy would get a hell of a kick out of the comment.

“Good on you…”

As curious as she is, Rebecca never asks Sassy if Nora is going to remain an only child.

One day, they might get drunk enough and Sassy will tell her.

It didn’t matter how much warning she’d had from Sassy, Roosje and other friends with young children, nothing prepared Rebecca for the reality of being at home all day by herself with a baby when Matthijs went back to work.

The first few weeks before Romejin got his newborn vaccinations and going out meant a short walk along the shore felt like the loneliest of her life.  Sleep felt like a long lost memory, everything still hurt and there were days where she wondered if she would get the hang of caring for a child.

On the worst days, Rupert’s voice appeared in the back of her mind, needling her about her lack of judgment, her lack of mothering skills.  How she was never suited for this and the poor baby would be better off without her.

Most of the time, she could silence the insidious voice of the long dead man.

Occasionally it took a little more time, she would be sitting in the rocker Romejin fast asleep on her chest, all was right in his little world.  He was safe, warm, fed and loved and she remembered that she did that.  She made him, she loves him and she’ll work out the rest, or the times Matthijs would get home, weary from a long day and pull her into a hug, inhaling her scent and releasing a breath as though a great weight was falling from his shoulders just by being in her presence.

He would hold her like she was the most precious thing in the world.  He didn’t care if the laundry was finished or dinner was started.  He just wanted to be with them at the end of the day.  He wanted to do whatever needed to be done with her and wanted to hold their son.

The number of evenings Matthijs would end up pottering around the boat with Romejin resting against him in the sling…

As they learned about their son, they needed to relearn each other and learn to love this new version of each other.  They were the same and yet so, so different.

Rebecca missed their quiet weekends, when they stayed in and just existed in and around each other.  She missed the nights where they would get on their bikes and head into town on a whim for dinner or a drink.  She missed their last minute trips where they would catch a taxi over to Eindhoven and jump on the next train to wherever it was going, just for the adventure.

At the same time, she didn’t miss it at all.

It was hard, but it was worth it.

Rebecca still wasn’t sure if this was a good idea or not, but either way they were committed and pulling into her parents drive for Christmas dinner.

Turning up with a ten week old baby would either go brilliantly or they’d be back in the car and on their way back to London within 15 minutes.

Leaving Matthijs to get the bags and gifts, Rebecca reached in and freed Romejin from his carseat. 

“Oh really?” she whispered as he smiled and gurgled happily at her.  “I know, it’s not fun being trapped like that.  All alone with no one to look at or talk to…” she pulls him close and tucks a blanket around him and then grimaces as he presses his face into her neck and a long string of saliva makes its way down her front. 

“Thank you my love… is that my punishment for leaving you in there so long.”

Taking the baby bag from Matthijs, she leads him up to the front door and rings the bell.

“You don’t just walk in?” he asked and then immediately remembered the first time they visited his parents and how shocked she had been when he simply opened the door and walked through calling out a hello to his parents.

“That would be the height of poor manners.” she fired back immediately as she stepped back from the door and waited.

A few seconds later, the sound of footsteps echoed through the door and as the handle was turning Rebecca took a deep breath and steeled herself.  A part of her revelled in the way her father choked slightly and went pale at the sight of a baby in her arms.

“Rebec…” Paul Welton had been astonished when Deborah had returned from the Netherlands months earlier telling tales about their daughter living with a Dutchman in a boat as well as her suspicions that they were going to be grandparents.  When several months had passed before they finally received an announcement in the form of a sonogram attached to an email, the timing didn’t add up but they both knew not to push Rebecca for more information than she was willing to give. When she had reached out earlier that month and requested to come home for Christmas dinner for the first time in nearly a decade, they had jumped at the chance to host their daughter again, in spite of any tensions.

Tensions that he and Deborah both knew the cause of but refused to acknowledge to each other, let alone their daughter.

Since that awful day when she was 15, they’d been watching her fade from their lives.

So when he opened the door, he anticipated the man standing just behind her but not the baby in her arms.

“Happy Christmas Father.” Her tight smile started to fade when Paul stood there mouth agape after several awkward seconds before he shook himself out of his stupor and stepped back to hold the door open for them.

“Deborah…” Paul called over his shoulder “Rebecca and her young man are here…”

“In the parlour…” Deborah’s voice echo’s back and Rebecca holds a finger up to her lips and leads Matthijs through.

Now they’re inside, she takes the blanket off Romeijn and turns him to face outwards as Paul trails behind them, still unsure of what to say.

Rebecca would never forget the look on her mothers face when she stepped into the parlour and Deborah caught sight of the baby. 

“Mother, you’ve met Matthijs, Matthijs, this is my father Paul Welton…” she waits for them to shake hands “And this is your grandson, Romeijn…”

Deborah lifts a shaking hand to her mouth as tears spring to her eyes… the next thing she knows her arms are full of baby when without warning Rebecca hands her son over.

It will occur to her later that night, it was the exact same thing she’d done to Roosje.

“Hello young man…” Deborah takes his little hat off and runs her fingers down his chubby cheek.  “I didn’t expect you to be coming today, Nana doesn’t have anything under the tree for you… well I do but it’s got mummy’s name on it…” she gave Rebecca the stink eye who shrugged unrepentantly and dragged Matthijs down onto the sofa with her.

“He was born on the 10th of October… and I would have told you sooner, mother but you have a bad habit of turning up without warning.  I don’t mind you visiting but a phone call to make sure it’s a good time would be welcome.” Rebecca admitted, hoping her mother took the hint and started to call ahead when she wanted to visit.  Deborah had never admitted that the reason she never called first was she didn’t believe Rebecca would allow her to come.

“Uh, can I get either of you a drink…” Paul finally finds his voice, profoundly uncomfortable with the scene in front of him and the unemotional look Matthijs had given him as they shook hands.  He was under no illusions of what Rebecca had told him.

Paul often wondered how much Rebecca had told Rupert, from what they had found out after his death, Paul has no doubt Rupert would have immediately used the information to his own ends and wholeheartedly approved while being outwardly derisive, but this new man had made it clear with his bruising grip and cold eyes that he didn’t like what he had heard.  The father that loved his daughter deeply appreciated the protective attitude, the man who had been cheating on his wife with different women for over 30 years didn’t care to be judged.

Paul knew he had no right to comment on Rebecca’s life or choice of partner.  He’d lost that right when Rebecca was 15 but standing there now, nearly 20 years later the regrets feel overwhelming.

While he and his wife always found their way back together, he’d never managed to find a way to bring his daughter back to him… deep down, he couldn’t blame her.  Now she has a child of her own, and all he can hope for is that Rebecca is a better parent than he is.

Finally escaping the room with their drink orders, Paul takes a moment to centre himself.

When he comes back out with a tray, Deborah is sitting by Rebecca’s side, baby still securely in her lap, but Romejin is staring up at Rebecca smiling like she is his whole world.  He remembers Rebecca looking up at Deborah like that.

Perhaps it’s time, time to clear the air… 

The afternoon passes pleasantly enough, Deborah is delighted with their grandson happily changing his nappy and cuddling him throughout their meal and is visibly disappointed when Rebecca takes Romeijn back to feed him.  She also readily agrees to Rebecca’s proposal of visiting the last weekend of every month.  Paul is well aware that while he isn’t technically invited Rebecca probably wouldn’t turn him away.

Maybe.

He revels in hearing Rebecca talk about continuing to work on her masters, even though the last subject had taken a backseat when the baby had been born he is proud to hear she was planning to get back to it in the new year.  He’d known since she was born that his daughter was uncommonly beautiful but the mind that came with it was a sight to see and he was infinitely proud of her academic achievements.

At the end of the day, Paul is a coward at heart and when they are packing up to leave he smiles pleasantly, kisses the baby and Rebecca on the cheek and shakes Matthijs hands, he doesn’t speak up.  It hadn’t escaped anyone's notice that he hadn’t held the baby.  In the deep dark recesses of his heart, Paul didn’t think he deserved it.

Maybe next time and maybe not.

Watching Matthijs and Romeijn together is something Rebecca doesn’t think she’ll ever get tired of.  Matthijs is as enamoured with the baby as she is and is insistent on caring for their son as much as he can.

Once the baby started to sleep for longer stretches, life got easier.  Unlike the first few weeks, where she wasn’t sure if the fog would ever lift, her body was well on the road to healing and her mind had started to sharpen again.  It helped that despite the days when Romeijn wanted nothing more than to be held, he was so much more engaging now.  Responding to their voices with smiles, giggles and coos.

Matthijs taking care of the 5am feed and taking him out in the pram on his early morning runs had been one of the best things to happen for their routine as it gave Rebecca a chance to sleep for more than 2 hours.  Finding both yoga and pilates classes that she could take the baby to had given her a new group of friends, with young children and the relationships she built had saved her sanity on more than one occasion.

Matthijs had also been firm on finding a local babysitter to stay with Romeijn so he could take Rebecca out on date nights.  In a turn of events that Rebecca hadn’t anticipated, by Deborah’s 3rd weekend visit, they were leaving the baby with her for an evening to go out as well.   It seemed, the pointed comments made at Christmas had had the right effect and while Rebecca didn’t like holding time with Romejin hostage to her mothers good behaviour, if it meant she didn’t need to worry about Deborah turning up on their doorstep on a whim and without warning it was worth it.

By the time Romeijn is 6 months old Paul had yet to make the trip with Deborah.  Rebecca isn’t surprised, but it still hurts.  As much as she wants to ask her mother the real reason behind it, she’s scared to know the truth.  She’s also well aware that the chances of her mother telling her the entire truth is slim to none.

There had also been one particular weekend where there was a crossover of visiting parents leading to the interesting introduction of Roosje and Deborah.

Complete opposites in every way they spent the first hour eyeing each other suspiciously and while they would never be the best of friends, it didn’t take them long to reach a detente.  Watching Roosje and Joris doting on Rebecca as much as they did Romejin and Matthijs had brought tears to Deborah’s eyes knowing how much her daughter was loved and cherished.  The life Rebecca was living was better than any she had been able to imagine for her, especially when she had married Rupert Mannion.  At that time, all she had been able to see for Rebecca’s future was the life she herself had lived.  Now though, Deborah knew she didn’t need to worry about Rebecca with the de Graaf’s.

After that, Rebecca and Matthijs came to a silent agreement to keep their mothers apart as much as possible.  It would be absolute chaos if the day ever came that they joined forces.

Sinterklaas in Hoorne and Christmas in London wasn’t going to change and made December easy, but birthdays might be a little more complicated.

“Why don’t we just say to all the grandparents, birthdays will be wherever we’re living, they are welcome to come and celebrate but none of them can stay with us?” Rebecca suggests and smiles brightly when Matthijs sighs in relief and nods.

“Minimises hurt feelings and we can kick everyone out whenever we want… I love it when you’re sneaky” Matthijs smirks and reaches out and grasps her wrist gently… it had possibly been the most stressful weekend since the baby had been born.  With a tug, Rebecca stumbles towards him and he catches her, before she can blink, his other hand is on her waist and she’s being spun slowly around their tiny living area.

It was these moments she was so thankful for.  He didn’t care about the clutter or the mess their home is currently in, about his parents or her mother… all his considerable focus and attention was on her.  It made her feel like the most important woman in the world.

Rebecca doesn’t know how long they dance, spinning around the room sometimes pressed close, other times they’re dancing around each other only to step closer again moments later.

Just like they did before the baby and just like she hopes they do for many years to come.

It was a year of firsts for all of them and Rebecca revelled in every single one of Romejin’s.

The first time he smiled, rolled over, laughed… then he was sitting up, starting on solid food was an adventure in itself, getting mushy peas out of her hair had not been easy.  Creeping and crawling his way along the floor, investigating whatever caught his eye at any given moment, wrecking havoc as he left a trail of random household items in his wake.  A friend from her yoga class had recommended leaving toys hidden in boxes for him to ‘find’.  Watching Romejin explore and learn and grow was an amazing experience and one she’d feared she would never have.

Then he started to pull himself up on the furniture causing a new level of pride and worry for the parents and they spent a frantic evening moving everything a baby shouldn’t be able to get his hands on out of reach.  They’d been warned by multiple people that this was coming and probably should have been a bit better prepared for this particular event but for some reason they were completely surprised.

Romejin’s first word was not in fact mama or papa much to their amusement, instead during one of their weekly facetimes with Sassy and Nora, Romejin had crowed in delight when Nora appeared and called out gleefully and decisively “Rah!” when seeing her.

Rebecca knew that Sassy would never let them live down the fact that her son’s first word was Sassy’s daughter's name.

Sometime in between chasing her son and working, Rebecca finally manages to finish her MBA.  What had originally supposed to have been 21 months of full time study had stretched out into nearly 7 years between getting married, Rupert’s interference, being unable to find the motivation to continue until moving in with Matthijs and then taking her time and doing the course via distance and working with different charities.

She had naively thought it wouldn’t be too hard with a baby, she could just study while the baby slept.  

That was not the way it had worked out.  Instead it had taken her 6 months to crack open the books again and another 4 to finish the last subject which just left her with her final project and she could graduate and officially add those 3 important letters to the end of her name.

Rebecca Welton MBA.

If everything went to plan, she would be able to submit it in the new year.

Romejin’s first birthday dawns bright and sunny.

While they hadn’t planned anything outrageous, Matthijs and Rebecca still wanted to celebrate and had organised a picnic in the local park.

While it wasn’t the warmest day, the sun was shining and the birthday boy was happy and healthy.

All four grandparents had converged on Erp and fortunately they had all listened and booked themselves into hotels, the only person staying with them was Nora, giving Sassy and Darren a night to themselves.

The other couple would be returning the favour on boxing day, looking after Romejin while Rebecca and Matthijs had the day and night child free.

Just before 11am, the four of them arrive at Kabouterbos picnic area to set up, only to find half the work done by their parents in what they expect to be a rare show of cooperation.

Nothing formal has been organised, just good friends and family enjoying the day out.  While he is relatively happy to spend time with people he knows well, Romejin still always looks for Rebecca in a crowd, demanding to go back to her when the crowd gets a little too rowdy.

The sunny weather manages to hold until after lunch is eaten and a cake is brought out.

Rebecca cherishes the video Joris takes of Romejin smashing his little hands into it and shoving fistfuls of icing into his mouth.  Once cake is finished, there is more running around until the little ones start crashing from their sugar highs and after a minor meltdown the birthday boy passes out in his mothers lap.

With their parents' agreement to meet them for dinner later that night, they get a still sleeping Romejin and a very tired Nora home and into bed before deciding to lie down and rest themselves.  Curled up in bed together, they start scrolling through the photos they’d both taken during the day.

Amongst them, Deborah had sent Rebecca one she managed to snap of Paul walking away from her with Romejin’s hand in his.  It had taken all of her powers of persuasion to get him to come with her, she knew exactly why he was avoiding visiting Rebecca and this was one particular event Deborah wouldn’t let him miss.  She knew the already strained relationship would finally snap beyond repair if Paul wasn’t there.

There is another that gives Rebecca pause, she and Matthijs are scrolling through the photos on his phone when they come across one from late in the afternoon.

Rebecca is sitting at a picnic bench, her back resting against the table, Romejin asleep in her arms, Deborah by her side and the Welton women are looking at their children with wonder in their eyes.  In the background stands Rebecca’s father watching his wife, daughter and grandson.  There is such longing and pride in the gaze directed at Rebecca, her breath catches in her throat… she can’t process what it means at that precise moment.

It was the first time Paul had come over to visit and the first time he had seen Romejin since christmas.  A deep, dark part of Rebecca that she didn’t want to admit existed had been wondering if it was her.  Wondering if Paul would show more interest in his grandson if she wasn’t around.  She wasn’t proud of the thought and it wasn’t a pleasant one, but it was still there, hovering in the back of her mind.

Staring at this photo, Rebecca knows it is her but not in the way she had assumed.  

She doesn’t know what to do with this knowledge, so she puts it away to deal with another time.

That night after dinner, as they lay in bed together, exhausted but happy Rebecca lay her head on Matthijs’ chest and whispered

“Next year…”

“Next year, what?” he suspected he knew what she was saying but wanted to be sure.

“Once Romejin is two, I want to start trying for another baby…”

“No problem…” Matthijs agreed and pulled her close with a ghost of a smile across his lips.

They didn’t make it to Romejin’s second birthday…

END CHAPTER 4

Chapter Text

December 2013

Sinterklaas and Christmas are different that year with a toddler to contend with.  While Romejin doesn’t understand the reason behind the celebrations, he’s learned what a gift is and what is done with it.

Rebecca and Matthijs quickly learn they can’t leave any wrapped gifts in their toddlers' reach without him making a beeline towards the bright paper and tearing it off with gusto.  Enjoying the sight of the shiny paper reflecting lights, the sound of it tearing and the feel of it crumpling between his little fingers.  Rebecca can’t find it within herself to be mad when he grins up at her in delight surrounded by scraps of paper.

Fortunately they catch on fast enough and they only need to rewrap 3 presents.

Unlike previous years, Matthijs hadn’t managed to get the day off but they still made the drive North to spend Sinterklaas eve with his parents.

It made for an incredibly long day but it was worth it to celebrate with their family.

A few weeks later, they made their Christmas and Boxing day trip back to the UK.  Christmas morning was spent with her parents, then they delivered presents to families in Westbourne.  Becoming a mother had changed her perspective on her yearly trek around London, she still did her best to fulfill the wishes of and spoil the children she’d been assigned but more than ever she understood how much more important the basics were rather than just toys.

Every sack of overflowing gifts also had some boring necessities slipped in there.  A new toothbrush, hairbrush and comb set, warm socks and school supplies.

She’d also spent hours wandering the craft markets in the villages in and around Erp, letters to Santa in hand, browsing the handmade scarfs and beanies in search of the perfect match for the child she’d built up in her head and she could only hope she got it right.

At each house her shy little boy, all of 15 months old, excitedly announced that Santa “made an oops” and left their gifts at his house and he was helping “mama and papa fix!”.  Rebecca thought it was even cuter when he confused the dutch and english words.  Growing up with his parents regularly changing between the languages as well as having a set of grandparents that spoke to him in English and a set that spoke in Dutch, made for some interesting conversations with a toddler who was still learning.

Late in the evening, exhausted, they arrive at Sassy and Darren’s for a late dinner that Nora and Romejin both sleep through.

After a leisurely breakfast, Rebecca and Matthijs head up to Norwich for the boxing day match against Norwich City.

As always, Rebecca is accosted by the press and asked questions on her plans for the team and as always she waves them off and points them at Cyril.  When the menaces don’t get anything from her in regards to the team and the club, they start in on her personal life.

They never had this issue when they made the trip up to Utrecht to watch a match, she and Matthijs were left to watch in peace and had even taken Romejin to a couple of matches.  Rebecca didn’t dare bring the toddler to a premier league match, his face would be plastered all over the rags, the rumour mill would go nuts, the speculation about Matthijs is bad enough, she needed to protect her son from the madness as long as humanly possible.  She is well aware that the news will get out eventually but if she can delay it, she will.

Once the match is over with a nil-nil draw, they head back south to Walton-on-the-Naze where the two of them are planning on curling up in front of a fire for the following 24 hours and hibernating without any interruptions.

Their plan works, they don’t have a child, or parents or work to contend with and enjoy the time just reconnecting with each other, time alone like this having been a rare commodity recently.

When they get back to Sassy and Darren’s, a tearful Romejin throws himself at Matthijs with a mournful “gemist papa!” ( missed ).

“We’re all about papa right now” Rebecca shrugs at Sassy’s questioning look.  It was rather amusing, Romejin was fine with her all day at home and preferred her when out in public, but the moment Matthijs arrived home she didn’t get a look in.

Which gave her plenty of time in the evenings to get some work done, go to the gym or meet up with friends without a toddler in tow.

New Years is spent with friends back in Erp, a fun and relaxed evening with Katrijn and Pim and then life settles back down.

Deborah continues to visit the last weekend of every month with Roosje and Joris coming south regularly as well.

Paul hasn’t returned to the Netherlands since Romejin’s birthday and the more time that passes, the more Rebecca feels like she needs to go and finally confront her father.  Exactly how she wants the conversation to go, she’s not sure.  So much time had passed, she just knew the current situation wasn’t maintainable.

That spring, after 4 years of trying, Matthijs finally convinces Rebecca to go camping.  She was not a person that camps and had refused to take part in anything that involved staying in less than a four star hotel or luxury BnB since it was no longer required when she finished high school, but for Matthijs she’ll try.  

With Liberation day a Monday, they pack up Romejin and all the gear needed and head south to de Grote Hegge for the long weekend.

Camping is everything that Rebecca remembers and decides that in the future it will most likely be an adventure with papa while mama goes to a spa.

Admittedly, snuggling up close in their joined sleeping bags is the saving grace for Rebecca and waking up early on the Saturday morning with Matthijs’ hand having slipped inside her pants while asleep leaves them both giggling, breathless and shushing each other as they make good use of the forced closeness and their sleeping toddler.

They weren’t as quiet as they’d hoped if the smirks of their temporary neighbours were anything to go by.  Neither of them care, after 4 years together they still take enjoyment in each other's bodies and the intimacy that comes with it.

At the end of the month, they make the trip back to the UK for Rebecca’s graduation and seeing both Deborah and Paul in the crowd sitting with Matthijs and Romejin brings a bright smile to her face and seeing the open pride coming from her father bolsters her decision to finally confront him that night.

After dinner, with her mother distracted by Matthijs and Romejin she corners her father in his study and places a glass of wine in front of him and makes sure to stand between him in the door.

“Alright father, out with it… what the fuck are you punishing me… and in turn my son… for now?”  Rebecca knows full well that if Paul is punishing anyone it’s himself but makes a conscious choice to put him on the backfoot in this manner.

Paul startles at her words and he has to fight the tears that spring to his eyes because his daughter believes she is the problem.

As much as he has avoided the issue, he never wanted Rebecca to believe she was the problem and not him.  Gathering as much of his courage as he can Paul finally addresses the issue he’s been hiding from for over 20 years.

“I’m not trying to punish you…” he starts “and I’m most certainly not punishing Romejin.  Your little boy…” his voice catches and he needs to take a moment to gather his thoughts.

“Fucking hell Rebecca, you are the most spectacular achievement of my life…” he makes sure to look her in the eye, so she can see just how serious he is.  “And watching you living out this magnificent life you’re building has driven home just how badly I fucking failed you…” he finally says the words she needs to hear out loud.  “I failed you with my silence and in spite of that you have succeeded in everything you’ve set your mind to…watching you graduate today, I am so proud of you and when I stood there on his first christmas and saw the way Romejin looked at you, you were his whole world, you still are and both of you deserve better.  I thought you’d be happier if I stayed away… Your mother was so fucking excited when she found out you were pregnant and then seeing her with Romejin, I hoped if I distanced myself you would allow her closer… I didn’t want her to suffer more because of me.  I’ve wronged her enough and I didn’t want to add not seeing our grandson grow up to the list.”

It’s quite possibly the most honest thing he’s ever said, that he acknowledges Deborah has suffered because of him softens Rebecca ever so slightly.

“Well… shit…” Rebecca takes a deep swallow of her wine unsure of how to respond, after another mouthful she finds what she hopes are the right words.

“I hated you for a long time… in fact it’s such a part of me I’m not sure what I’d do if I didn’t hate you… yet you’re still my father and I love the memories I have of spending time with you as a child, no matter how tainted they are… It's those memories I want Romejin to have with you, without that taint.  I want him and any other children I might have to have wonderful memories of wandering out into the fields to feed the horses with you, of learning how to ride and being absolutely sure that you will catch them… laughing as you dance and tell silly stories… I want him to have a grandfather he can love…”

‘Even if I can’t’ is left unsaid.

“He’s old enough now to ask for Nana, ask when she will be coming to visit… he doesn’t ask for you…” Rebecca drains her glass and turns for the door, only being stopped by her fathers quiet voice.

“I want all of that as well…”

“Then you know what you need to do!” She doesn’t turn around as she throws the final comment out.

When she arrives back in the parlour, Deborah gives her a knowing look while Matthijs takes her hand and pulls her close.

None of them are surprised when Paul doesn’t come back downstairs.

Waking up in their finally fully refurbished house in Petersham, something doesn’t feel right.

Her nose is blocked and her body aches all over, the snuffled breathing from the other side of the bed tells her Matthijs will wake up feeling similar and if both of them have picked something up then there is a very good chance Romejin will be sick as well.

She doesn’t even have time to think about all three of them being sick at once when the sound of little feet comes pattering across the room next door, followed by a hiccoughing sob and the door being pushed open.  Rolling over, Rebecca gets her arms out just as Romejin hits the side of the bed and grabs the 18 month old to haul him into the bed with them.

He’s more than just sleep warm, Rebecca can tell straight away he’s running a slight fever and cradles him close.

He was growing up too fast for her liking, yet he was still her baby.  They’d moved him out of the crib just after easter as he’d outgrown it and while he was starting to wean himself, he still fed to sleep at night and came to her for comfort when he was unhappy or scared… or feeling sick like he was now and his little hands were pulling at her top.

“Mama needs to go to the toilet first.” she whispers and presses a kiss to his cheek.  He wasn’t quite ready for toilet training just yet, but both Rebecca and Matthijs firmly believed in explaining things honestly to him.  He was well aware of what happened in the bathroom, just hadn’t quite connected it to something he would need to learn yet.

They always used the proper name of body parts, and didn’t shy away from answering possibly uncomfortable questions.

It also appeared as though he wasn’t content to wait in the bed with Matthijs and scrambled after her as she hauled herself out of bed.

The slight dizziness was disconcerting but she shook it off and went to relieve herself, trailed by her toddler.

Once she’s used the toilet, washed her hands and drank a glass of water, she lifts a whining Romejin up and quickly uses a warm washcloth to wipe his sweaty face before carrying him back to the bed where she settles them next to a still sleeping Matthijs.

She’s tempted to wake him up then and there but decides to leave it for now.  If she lets him sleep now, then she can hand Romejin over once they get home and put herself straight to bed.

By the time they get home that night, all three of them are running fevers and congested.  While Matthijs calls in sick for work the next day, Rebecca calls the GP to get them booked in, both of them well aware that it’s most likely a virus and there is nothing to be done but to wait it out.

She’s right and the three of them spend the next two days huddled up in bed together absolutely miserable.  Romejin refuses to sleep in his own bed or even let Matthijs take him so Rebecca spends those days with a coughing, snotty weighted blanket.

Matthijs starts to pick up first, followed by Rebecca and finally Romejin a few days later.

It’s mid June by the time they are all 100 percent, except Rebecca can’t seem to shake the exhaustion and vague nausea that’s been plaguing her.  It’s not until she gets a whiff of breakfast one morning half way through the month and her stomach turns enough to send her to the toilet retching and gagging that she starts to wonder.  Sitting on the floor, gulping back deep breaths, she tries to count back the weeks and realises the number since her last period is much higher than it should be.  High enough that she should have noticed quite a while back.

Too high to be ridden off as stress over her graduation or from being sick.

Finally getting her stomach under control, she flushes the toilet, washes her hands and quickly brushes her teeth before starting to dig through the cabinets looking for the pregnancy test she knows won’t be there.  Giving up, she exits the bathroom and heads for the bedroom positive she left one in her sock drawer.

Rummaging around, she finally finds what she is looking for and yanks it free with a “Ha!”.

Stopping in the kitchen, she drops the test on the counter and pours herself a big glass of water and starts to drink it down.

From his place at the stove Matthijs raises an eyebrow and waits.  He’d noticed how tired she’d been but rode it off as the last vestiges of their cold but as soon as she’d paled and ran for the toilet the thought took hold and he started doing his own mental calculations.

After four years of living together they were both well acquainted with each others bodies and the ebbs and flows of hormones and changes they each went through on a regular basis.  He was normally much more cognizant of when her period was due but apparently the last few weeks had thrown them all off.

Finally realising Rebecca isn’t going to be the first to say something, he speaks up “Makes sense…” he nods at the test.

“A lot of fucking sense.” she agrees while refilling the glass.  She’d used the toilet just before being sent running back in there and was trying to fill her bladder as quickly as possible, now that the thought had taken hold she needed to be sure.

It takes two more glasses of water and half an hour in which she jitters her way around the kitchen, attempting to distract herself.  Glancing at the clock, she has around 15 minutes before Romeijn wakes up and wants an answer and to get her reaction out of the way before then.

Heading back into the bathroom, she double checks the instructions and takes the test, leaving it on the counter and heads back out to wait with Matthijs’ company.

“3 minutes?” he confirms as he sets the timer on his watch and then places some lightly buttered toast in front of her, knowing she needs to get food into her stomach.

When his watch starts beeping and Rebecca doesn’t move, Matthijs knows it’s up to him to check again and heads into the bathroom and mere seconds later is back, test in hand.

Handing it over he watches carefully as she takes in the result and cycles through a myriad of emotions from disbelief to joy.  Finally after a painful few seconds she speaks.

“You have until Christmas to teach your son how to use a toilet, I’m not changing two sets of nappies at once.”  She pokes him in the chest to emphasise her point before bursting into tears.

“No problem,” he draws her into a hug “Are we happy crying, sad crying or crying just because?”

“Happy crying…” she confirms “Baby is coming a little sooner than planned but that’s ok… it’s brilliant.”

“Ok…” Danika looked over Rebecca’s chart and blood test results “Looks like we have conception on or around 5th of May” the midwife smirked “Someone had fun on Liberation Day… that gives you an approximate due date of 26th of January but if this one is anything like Romejin don’t be surprised if you go a little bit early again.”

Rebecca smirked back “Matthijs took us camping, not my cup of tea but the early morning shagging was fun, didn’t expect to make another baby though.  We weren’t even trying.”

Danika had been her midwife with Romejin and Rebecca was ecstatic to find her available again.  A woman her age who was experienced and knowledgeable about everything childbirth and pregnancy related, was no nonsense when it came to her profession but with a dry and biting sense of humour that Rebecca appreciated.

“Everything looks good so far, you’re fit and healthy, HCG levels are right where we’d expect them.  I’ve got the standard pack here for you but you remember the do’s and don’ts?” Danika confirmed and Rebecca nodded.

“Excellent.  We’ve got your Rhesus results on file from last time and you’ve consented to the standard blood test and screenings, we’ll call you if anything out of the ordinary comes up.  In the meantime, rest as much as you can with a toddler, take care of yourself and we’ll see you in a few weeks for your 12 week appointment.”

In the week since she’d taken the test, all the pregnancy symptoms she’d experienced with Romejin had come roaring in and were even worse than with him.

She was nauseous most of the day and the exhaustion made it felt like the baby was sucking the life out of her.  The early evenings were the worst, meaning as soon as Matthijs arrived home, she handed Romejin over and put herself to bed, occasionally getting back up to vomit but mostly she just lay there and felt sick.

With her mother, and possibly father, due for a visit that weekend Rebecca didn’t know how they would keep this quiet.

Roosje and Joris visiting not long later would be just as tough to keep it from and they really didn’t want to announce anything until they hit the second trimester.  Hopefully both sets of parents would allow them the illusion of keeping it a secret.

Her body had a completely different plan as when Deborah and Paul arrived they entered the boat to the sound of Rebecca throwing up in the bathroom.  The nausea and vomiting had been getting worse throughout the week, leaving her barely able to function, to the point where Matthijs was trying to convince her to organise a sitter to come and take care of Romejin for several hours each day.

Raising a questioning eyebrow, Deborah’s gaze darted between Matthijs and the bathroom door.  The man in question just smiled and brought a finger to his lips hoping they got the hint.

Over the last two years, he’d learnt exactly where Rebecca’s lack of subtlety came from.

His efforts were all for nothing, when Rebecca finally managed to get herself out of the bathroom Deborah smirked and asked “something you want to tell us sausage?”

“Absolutely not!” Rebecca scowled and stumbled her way to the bedroom to lie down.

“Romejin, do you want to go to the park with nana and grandpa?” Matthijs knew Deborah would never be able to turn her grandson down and when faced with his excitement allowed herself to be dragged out by the toddler followed by a quiet and nervous Paul.

He had bought them a little time.

Sticking his head into the bedroom he found Rebecca still awake but curled up on her side, eyes squeezed closed and breathing deeply.

“I tricked them into taking Romejin to the park…” he lowers himself onto the bed next to her and runs gentle fingers through her hair.  “Do you want me to stay or join them?”

His heart broke a little as a tear leaked out of her eye and dripped onto the pillow.

“Come on…” he crawled into the bed beside her and pulled her close, letting her head rest on his thighs as he rubbed her back soothingly.  Seeing her so miserable was gut wrenching for him.  Normally so vibrant and energetic the combination of pregnancy and a toddler was wreaking havoc on her.

2 hours later Rebecca is fast asleep and they haven’t moved when the sound of footsteps up on deck cause him to look up and grimace slightly.  Easing out from underneath Rebecca, he slid the bedroom door closed and hoped she would sleep for a while longer.

Deborah was first through the door, holding it open for Paul who was carrying a sleeping Romejin.  He led the older man through to Romejin’s room and quickly got the toddler settled into bed.

When they got back out, their bedroom door was open and Deborah was leaning over her daughter, concern almost vibrating from her as she checked over a still sleeping Rebecca.  Since the day they’d met, Matthijs had never doubted Deborah’s love for her daughter and seeing the way the older woman looked at her but he also understood Rebecca’s doubts.  The months of silence that had cut 19 year old Rebecca to the core, even the lack of contact during her first years here in the Netherlands had reinforced the belief she was far far down in her parents list of priorities but in the 18 months since they had introduced Romejin, Deborah at least had made a genuine effort to be part of their lives.  It looked like Paul was turning a corner as well after Rebecca’s chat with him.

They were much better grandparents than parents.

Maybe she would be willing to stay a bit longer, come over during the day and give Rebecca a break.

Putting the kettle on he focussed on making tea and coffee for the three of them.  By the time the tray was ready, Deborah was back out watching him carefully.  Canting his head upward, they followed him up onto the deck to sit in the afternoon sun.

“How long do we need to pretend for?” Deborah breaks the uncomfortable silence.

“We’ll officially tell you at your next visit in July” he’d tried to tell Rebecca it was no use attempting to keep it from their parents but his partner was a stubborn woman.

Sunday is much the same, Deborah and Paul come over in the morning and take Romejin down to the park, leaving Rebecca to sleep and Matthijs to take care of her and do their meal prep for the week.  Matthijs doesn’t ask if they can stay another few days to help while he is at work but he can see the calculating look in Deborah’s eyes and knows he doesn’t have to.

Without warning on Monday morning, Deborah arrives just before Matthijs is due to leave for the day and sends Rebecca back to bed with a stern look which sets the tone for the rest of the week.  As much as her daughter grumbled, it was all for show and she is incredibly grateful that her mother has taken the initiative in this instance.  It’s a huge weight off both of them, knowing Deborah is there to watch Romejin if needed.

Deborah stays until Roosje arrives and once again, he worries about their mothers conspiring but in this particular case of them conspiring to ensure Rebecca and Romejin are taken care of he won’t fight against it.

As July and summer take hold, Rebecca gets over the worst of it and starts to pick up again. By the time they go in for the 12 week ultrasound she is inordinately pleased to report it’s been 3 days since she threw up.

Danika is slightly concerned to see Rebecca has lost more weight than expected and recommended but after hearing about the last few weeks nods in understanding.  As long as she makes up the difference plus the recommended half a kilo a week in the next few weeks she isn’t too worried.

They’d briefly discussed bringing Romejin with them but knew he wouldn’t understand what was going on and Matthijs not having to entertain him while Rebecca was getting checked made it easier all around.

As promised, when Deborah and Paul arrive at the end of July they’re greeted with a copy of the sonogram from 2 weeks earlier and a much healthier Rebecca, while she was still struggling with nausea, she was nowhere near as sick as she had been the month before.

“I spoke to Tish…” Deborah is sitting at the kitchen table while Rebecca makes them tea, even with her back turned, Deborah can tell Rebecca is rolling her eyes and chooses not to comment.  “She told me it’s another boy and not to panic, he’s just impatient and always will be.”

Rebecca’s eyes flickered to the two pieces of paper stuck to the fridge.  One was their original list from two years previous and the second a fresh list.

3 names had been transferred over to the new list, 2 girls and a boy.  Picking up a pen, she wrote Liesel in the girl column as Deborah snorted something about contrariness under her breath.

In two weeks she would cross it off but Deborah doesn’t need to know that.

Joris and Roosje are just as overjoyed at the news.

Once again, they debate constantly on whether to find out the gender or not.  Matthijs once again disagreeing with whatever Rebecca wants on any given day, neither of them any more fussed about it than they were with Romejin.

When she calls Sassy to let her best friend know, Rebecca is a little taken aback at the lukewarm congratulations she gets but doesn’t push.  Both she and Matthijs had picked up on the tension between Darren and Sassy when they had stayed over the previous Christmas.

It felt as though every time they visited, the other couple was unhappier and unhappier but neither of them would open up about it.

The day after the call, Rebecca sends Sassy a message inviting her and Nora to come and visit them for a few days before Nora goes back to school in the hope that Sassy will open up if they are face to face without her husband there.

A week later Sassy has left her on read.  It’s not the first time this has happened.

With a shrug she smiles sadly at Matthijs when he asks if she’s responded yet.

“Sassy is a gorgeous, brilliant woman whom I love without conditions but she’s never dealt well with feeling inferior… you know how I got the nickname Stinky.  Whatever it is, it isn’t really about me…”

Rebecca and Sassy’s relationship is something he doesn’t often interfere in but every now and then, he’ll try and offer an outsiders opinion especially if he can see it’s hurting Rebecca.  He’s seen it go in both directions, one of them throwing out a careless comment that will hurt the other.  Admittedly, Sassy is much more cutting than Rebecca is and he’s seen the edge of cruelty that is occasionally exposed.

“Does it ever feel like she does have conditions?” he asks gently “She’ll love you as long as she can feel superior in some way?”

The look on her face tells him she realised this a long time ago and they possibly even fought about it over the years.

“It never lasts long… she’ll have worked through whatever it is by Romejin’s birthday and be here as promised.” It’s a weak excuse and they both know it, but Matthijs is willing to let her get away with it for now.  She’s a little too raw for him to push her any further.

He still remembers the day Rebecca had told him how they had become friends, there had been something off about the way Rebecca told the story at the time and when he’d met Sassy a few days later he’d never managed to shake the uncomfortable feeling.

“I was 12, the new girl in town… I was already taller than all the other children in my class and I filled a B cup quite respectfully by then… it didn’t help that my parents were the wealthiest either… Sassy told everyone that my nickname was Stinky and they’ve all called me that ever since.”

END CHAPTER 5