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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

Chapter Text

October 2014

Romejin’s second birthday does not dawn bright and sunny.

Not trusting the weather report, Matthijs sticks his head up on deck, sighs in frustration and heads back down to let Rebecca know while drying his head off with a towel.

“It’s pouring…”

“Fuck!” A few days shy of reaching 6 months pregnant, Rebecca swore around the mouthful of Ontbijtkoek ( Breakfast Cake ).

“Fuck mama?” Romejin repeated… Rebecca really had been trying to curb her swearing in front of Romejin who had taken to parroting everything his parents said.

It wasn’t working and the two of them had officially been declared a bad influence at playgroup.  Fortunately the other mothers found it more amusing than anything else.

“That’s a mama only word” she corrects gently, hoping that this particular tactic will work.  As amiable and sweet natured as Romejin is, he can also be fairly stubborn.

“Plan B?” Matthijs asks.

“Plan B” Rebecca agrees.

Plan A had been another picnic in the park, this time with a number of other toddlers from the playgroup Rebecca had been taking Romejin to, but when the weather reports from earlier in the week had predicted freezing rain all weekend they had quickly organised a backup by reaching out to one of their friends who was travelling and more than willing to let Rebecca and Matthijs use their house.

Grabbing her phone, Rebecca quickly sends out a message to everyone with the new address.

A part of her still held out hope that Sassy would respond or reach out in some way but there had been nothing but 6 weeks of silence.

Not even Deborah knew what was happening with her, despite still being acquaintances with Sassy’s mother. 

Sassy had never been silent for this long in their 20 plus years of friendship.  Normally a week or two passed and she was finally responding to Rebecca, pretending it never happened.  Never had Rebecca not been the one to initiate contact.

Rebecca always let it pass before, reached out and made sure Sassy knew she was there when she was ready.

The irony of it was how much Rupert had tried to separate the two of them.  Rebecca hadn’t seen it at the time but with the benefit of hindsight she could see what he had been doing and the more work she did with organisations supporting underprivileged children and people escaping abuse the more she realised just how close she had come to becoming one of them.

While she couldn’t see Rupert becoming physically abusive, he was controlling and narcissistic.  Constantly putting her down in the guise of ‘giving his opinion’.  Instructing her on what to wear and what to eat and the derisive look in his eye when she went against his wishes.

She could now see how he was starting to isolate her from the friends she’d had before they met, especially Sassy.  

“I was thinking of heading up to Chelmsford to see Sassy and Nora next week.”

“Sorry darling, didn’t I tell you, we’re expected…”

Plans she didn’t know about and that couldn’t be broken would suddenly come up, plans Rupert claimed to have told her about.

“Silly girl, always so forgetful”

Maybe it was his time in the military but Matthijs was incredibly meticulous about things like their calendars.  Everything was shared the moment it was considered, he’d taken to the smartphone technology like a duck to water when it came to organising things, if it wasn’t in their phones it wasn’t confirmed.  He hated being surprised and wasn’t a fan of last minute changes to plans, it was honestly a relief to Rebecca, being with someone so organised and on the ball.

The first time she had asked for his opinion on an outfit he’d shrugged and leered at her.

“You’re the sexiest woman I’ve ever met, wear what you want, I'll undress you just the same…” and he had… once before going out, then again when they got home.

Even the weight she’d gained throughout her pregnancies had been shrugged off, as much as society had conditioned her about her weight and looks he still looked at her with that twinkle in his eye he’d had in the wine bar in Monaco.

He never judged her friends and encouraged her to go out without him and make connections.  In his opinion, they both needed a life outside of each other to make their time together more precious and would only offer an opinion when asked.

So when Sassy hadn’t responded to her or turned up for Romejin’s birthday she’d looked at Matthijs with sad eyes that night and asked what he really thought about it.

“I think I don’t like the way she speaks to you sometimes…” he told her for the first time.  “It feels like…” he paused, wanting to ensure he didn’t misspeak.  “It feels like, from the stories you’ve both told, she's fine as you said, as long as she can feel superior in some way.  I can’t really say for sure, she was fine when we met and when we had Romejin because she married before you and had Nora first but now with a second baby on the way and them having problems… like you said Sassy is feeling inferior again.  Personally I wonder if it’s healthy, to never know if she is going to be set off if we have good news…”

They were sitting on the sofa, after putting an exhausted Romejin to bed, his hand chasing the gentle movements in her belly that he had only just been able to feel in the last few days.

“I don’t know any other way to be friends with her…” Rebecca admitted before picking up her phone.

Whatever is happening or that you’re going through, ignoring me isn’t going to make it better.   I can’t and won’t make myself less to make you feel better over something that isn’t my fault.  I won’t be initiating contact again, the next move is up to you.

She doesn’t send the message that night, instead leaving it as a draft.

A month passes with nothing from Sassy so Rebecca finally sends the message which is read but never responded to.

Rebecca wonders if the time will ever come that the decision doesn’t hurt.

They still go to London for Christmas, spending the morning with her parents and the afternoon delivering gifts and at a little over 8 months pregnant a part of Rebecca regrets making the trip.  Everything aches, and feels unwieldy and she’s constantly exhausted but it’s still an amazing two days.

Romejin is left with her parents on boxing day for their biannual check in day.  They have nothing major planned, she’s too pregnant for anything beyond lunch out.

Neither of them have anything serious to bring up and they end up chatting about plans they were making for years in the future.  With 4 years until Matthijs can retire nothing was urgent, except…

“We’re going to need a bigger place to live once this one gets moving.”  Rebecca comments once they’ve finished eating, having avoided the idea of moving for months now.

“Okay…” Matthijs grins.  “We’ll start looking in the spring.”

Once they're home, Rebecca decides that she’ll be planting herself on their sofa for the next few weeks while waiting for the baby.  Based on the stories she'd heard from friends and family, Romejin was the easiest toddler in the world to deal with and she was incredibly grateful for it, but he’d just turned two so it remained to be seen if he stayed that way.

If he had to hit the terrible twos, Rebecca can only hope he waits until his sibling is sleeping for more than an hour or two at a stretch.

New Year passes quietly, just the three of them and none of them are awake to see 2015 come in.  The braxton hicks contractions get stronger and the baby drops.

At her appointment with Danika on the 2nd, the midwife studies Rebecca carefully.

“Officially, you’ll be 37 weeks and in early term by Monday, but you’re a few centimeters dilated and the baby has dropped and is in a good position.  That being said, if you go into labour before I see you next Friday, it’ll be a hospital birth, while they’re measuring a good size and you both look healthy, it’s better to be safe than sorry.”

That night the contractions started to get a little stronger but still random.

By the early hours of Monday morning it seemed baby de Graaf number two was as impatient as Deborah (Tish) predicted and Matthijs calls into his commanding officer to let her know he won’t be in that day, or even for the next 6 weeks.

Romejin would be staying with good friends, they’d done a few practice runs to make sure he was comfortable sleeping over in the weeks leading up to Christmas so when Matthijs dropped him off with Katrijn and Pim there were no tears.

Getting home, he found Rebecca breathing through a contraction as she clutched the bench.

“8 minutes apart and 30 seconds long…” she confirmed as he pressed his thumbs into the tense muscles of her lower back.

“Did you speak to Danika?” he asks as she pushes herself upright and lets herself lean back against him.

“Hmmm, she said 5 minutes and we head into the hospital, no birthing centre for this one.”

The next two hours are spent pacing around the boat as the contractions come closer and closer together.

Bastiaan is born just before midnight, 2.8 kilograms and 47 centimeters long.  Despite his impatience, he is perfectly healthy and while the medical staff are watching him closely no intervention is required.  When his weight is announced, Rebecca briefly wonders just how big he would be if he’d been born closer to his due date.

Once they are both cleaned up and settled in their room, Rebecca is exhausted but too wired to sleep.  Shuffling to one side, she pats the bed next to her and Matthijs crams himself in with her.  With her legs bent and the baby resting on her knees they study him together.

“That’s your nose…” Matthijs wraps an arm around her shoulders and lets her snuggle close.

“Hmmm, and your ears…”

It’s nearly 3am before they finally lay the baby in the bassinet beside them and get some sleep and just before 6 Matthijs’ watch begins to beep.  Reaching over, he gently shakes Rebecca awake and helps her out of the bed.

Biting back the tears at the sharp aching through her whole body, Rebecca lets him help her to the bathroom and then back to bed, where he gently picks up Bastiaan and changes his nappy before handing him over.

“Good morning…” Rebecca whispers and runs gentle fingers down his nose and tickles his ears to wake him up to feed.  It had worked on Romejin, whether it would prove to be just as effective on her second son only time would tell.

His tiny bottom lip pokes out and starts to tremble, unhappy about being woken but both Rebecca and Matthijs knew it was better to wake him up and get his belly full and then let him stay asleep and wake up hungry in an hour.  It was all well and good to feed the baby when he demanded it but they both knew he would occasionally need to be woken up to eat if he was deeply enough asleep.

Experience with Romejin taught them the hard way not to let a baby get hungry.

Once Bastiaan is fed and burped, Rebecca unwraps the blanket and tucks him into her open pyjama top letting the baby rest skin to skin on her chest.  Once he’s there, he lets out a sigh and relaxes, warm, safe and comfortable.

Relaxing back, Rebecca closes her eyes and relishes in the feel of the warm weight and light puffs of breath against her skin.

Pulling out his phone Matthijs snaps a photo and sends it to all four of their parents.

Bastiaan Koen de Graaf 5/1/2015 23:39.  All healthy and happy.

Initially, Romejin does not take well to his baby brother.

Their first introduction in the hospital does not go horribly, Bastiaan sleeps through it and Romejin seems intrigued by the tiny human.  His parents had attempted to explain that the moving in his mama’s belly had been a baby and this was the baby but he couldn’t quite put it all together yet.

Once they are all home though things change.  The change to his routine and Rebecca’s attention being split does not go over well with the toddler.

He doesn’t understand why his mama is sleeping or holding the baby all the time instead of playing with him.

As with Romeijn, they refuse all visitors for the first two weeks in an attempt to settle in as a family of four, so when her parents arrive precisely the moment they are told they can, she hands a fed and sleeping baby over to her mother, picks up a teary Romejin and disappears into her bedroom.

“Wake me if he gets hungry or the boat is burning down.” is called over her shoulder.

“We’re all very tired…” Matthijs shrugs and lowers himself down into the recliner as Rebecca’s soft voice comes from their bedroom, reading to Romejin and giving him the attention he’d been craving and if she is honest, she’d missed this time with her first born.

The reaction when his parents arrive a few days later is much the same.

By the time Matthijs returns to work when Bastiaan is 6 weeks old they have found a semblance of a routine.  

Rebecca was feeling better and more up to wrangling both boys by herself and once Bastiaan received his first vaccinations she started walking down to the playgroup again leaving her with a much happier toddler and other mothers that were more than willing to snuggle the baby so she could focus on her oldest for a little while.

Parenting two is very different to parenting one and once again she and Matthijs find themselves having to relearn each other through the changes to their family.

Driving home on a cool spring evening, Matthijs was unsure on how to break the news he received earlier that day to Rebecca.  It was a part of military life they hadn’t experienced together yet as he hadn’t been transferred since meeting Rebecca nearly 5 years earlier.

Now he had to tell her they were moving, moving away from their friends and their comfortable little home that admittedly was feeling a bit too small now that they had Bastiaan.  At 3 months old, he didn’t take up much space but with the four of them in the boat, they were all feeling the pinch and they’d been looking for a house.  They were happy in Erp, Matthijs knew he would be just as happy in Woensdrecht.  He knew a few people stationed there and would make new friends and as long as he had Rebecca and the boys to come home to he would be fine, but Rebecca had a good group of friends and Romejin loved the playgroup they went to.  The move would not be as easy on them.  He could only hope they would settle in quickly and easily.  Hopefully the connections he made on base would flow out to Rebecca and the boys as well.

The promotion to Lieutenant Colonel was a nice bonus, as was the idea of spending the years before he put in for retirement training cadets.

They hadn’t discussed it since before Romejin was born but Matthijs knew he would be retiring in a little under 4 years time.  He knew Rebecca would never ask it of him, but after spending the entirety of his adult life in the military he was certain he would be ready for something different by then.  There were days he felt ready to retire now.  Everything they did and everything they planned right now revolved around his career and he was getting ready for that to end.

What they did after that was yet to be decided but he suspected they would be moving to London.  

With this in mind, the last thing Matthijs expected when he walked in the door was to find Rebecca and both the boys in tears.

Bastiaan had spent most of the previous night crying because he is a baby and they cried, and it looked like the day hadn’t been any better.  It didn’t help that the 3 month old had only wanted his mother who had barely slept in the last 36 hours, if he was reading the room correctly that hadn’t changed so it wouldn’t surprise him if they had skipped playgroup or a walk down to the park.  Skipping a trip somewhere to play left Romejin with more energy than could be expended in their living room, the state of which attested to this.  Toys, crayons, clothes were strewn everywhere and their 2 and a half year old was sitting in the corner, with big fat tears streaming down his face while the baby cried in the bassinet and Rebecca cried on the couch.

Deciding the boys could wait while he checked on his partner, Matthijs lowered himself onto the sofa and pulled Rebecca towards him.

“That bad huh?” he murmured into the top of her head and only got a wet huff in response.  “What do you need?”

“A back garden…” she hiccoughed out followed by “sleep”

He managed to keep his chuckle contained as her exhausted body slumped further into him.  Both those things had been on her must have list for months.

“You’ll get your back garden.” He promised.  She could have any house she wanted.  “As for sleep… go, take a shower then lie down.  I’ve got the boys.”

Deciding that tidying up can wait, he quickly gets the boys dressed and leaves a note telling Rebecca they’ve gone for a walk and heads out into the cool spring evening.

Bastiaan cries from the carrier strapped to his chest the entire short walk down to the park but starts to settle as Romejin shrieks in delight at finally getting to run around and play after being stuck inside all day.  As much as Matthijs doesn’t like to see any of them cry, he enjoys spending this time like this with his boys, doing nothing of great importance in the grand scheme of things.  Just being with them and as much as he wished Rebecca was there as well and able to enjoy playing, this particular evening it was more important for her to be alone, to rest.

By the time he returns home an hour later, the boat is quiet and the boys worn out.

Opening the fridge, he sighs in relief to see they still have a couple of their pre prepared meals for Romejin, and that Rebecca had managed to pump so they had a couple of bottles for the baby.

Heating them up, he quickly gets the boys fed, bathed and Romejin to bed while Bastiaan remains stubbornly awake but at least he’s not crying anymore, so he turns the television on low and lets a movie play in the background while Bastiaan sits contentedly in his lap shaking the colourful plastic keys.

By the time 9pm rolls around, Matthijs knows Rebecca will be feeling it in a few hours if she doesn’t feed Bastiaan now so he takes the sleepy baby into their room and gently shakes her awake.

Letting out a quiet chuckle as she takes the baby without opening her eyes, he heads back out and cleans up the living area and gets breakfast and lunch prepared for the following day and then heads to the shower.

By the time he’s back in the bedroom, Rebecca and Bastiaan are both fast asleep.  He gently transfers the baby to the bassinet and slides into bed himself.

Tomorrow was Saturday, he could tell her about the transfer then.

The rest of the night was fairly quiet, the baby waking for his regular feeds but not screaming through the dark hours as he had during the week.  As they had done with Romejin, Matthijs got up with the baby at 5am, gave him a bottle and then took him out in the pram for his morning run.

When they get home, the boat is still quiet.  Romejin had woken sometime in the hour he had been gone and joined Rebecca in their bed, the little boy struggling just as much as the rest of them with Bastiaan’s constant crying over the last few weeks.  Bringing up his phone, he snaps a quick picture of the pair of blonds in the bed, moves the bassinet into the living area and puts the sleeping baby down and goes to shower before starting breakfast knowing the smell will rouse both of them soon enough.

Prepping the night before definitely made the chore easier.

A little before 8, Rebecca stumbles out of the bedroom and into the bathroom with barely a grunt and Romeijn trailing right behind her, not long later he hears the sound of the shower and Romejin is running towards him, green eyes lit up with glee.

“Papa made pancakes?” he hit his fathers legs at speed and squealed in delight when he was tossed lightly in the air.  Pannenkoek was a rare treat that both Rebecca and Romejin loved.

By the time Rebecca came out of the shower, dressed only in her robe, Romejin was settled at the table and Bastiaan had woken and was looking around from his place in Matthijs’ arms, breaking into a bright smile and squealing with joy when his mother comes into view.

“Oh, do I have a happy baby this morning.” she smiles back and takes him in her arms, giggling when his little mouth latches onto her chin.  “Yeah, mama’s food goes in there Bastiaan’s food doesn’t come from there.”

“Bottle at 5…” Matthijs confirms before kissing her on the lips.  “Are you feeling a little more human now?”

“Much more human.” She sits down at the table and steals a bite of pannenkoek from a scandalised Romejin’s plate.

“Mama!” green eyes go wide.

“Papa will bring us both more and thank you for sharing with mama.” she placates the toddler as Bastiaan starts to grumble. 

By the time Bastiaan is suckling away, a cup of tea is in front of her and a plate of sliced up pannenkoek is placed between her and Romejin that they both help themselves from.

Seeing the way they are demolishing it, Matthijs puts another one on to cook while he eats his own breakfast.

A few hours later, when both the boys are napping, Matthijs grabs the baby monitor and takes Rebecca upstairs where they sit in the warm spring sun and drink their tea.

“I got pulled in by my commander yesterday.” he starts and when he knows he has her full attention he pushes on.

“They’re transferring me to the training centre at Woensdrecht.  I need to report there in 4 weeks…” he left it at that and allowed her to process the news.

With only the bird calls and quiet splashes of the river to break the silence he sits there nervously, they’d discussed this in the past and every time Rebecca had reassured him she would be fine with moving wherever he was posted but now it was real.  They would be packing up and moving, maybe if the boys were a little bit older or they hadn’t had Bastiaan yet he would be less apprehensive.  He wished Bastiaan was at least sleeping through the night.

“Right…” she finally blows out a breath “Do we need to find our own housing or will the Air Force provide us with something… actually don’t bother, if we ask them, we’ll just have to take what they give us.  I’ll get my solicitor to put out some feelers.  4 bedrooms, a garden, walking distance to shops and no more than… what, 20 minutes from base?” she looks at him and smirks at the surprised look on his face.  “Did you expect me to yell and scream, be upset?  We talked about this multiple times and I have a just in case plan that I update regularly and a list of people I can pay exorbitant amounts of money to to make this as easy as possible for us.  Assuming we can find somewhere to live, I can have us packed up and on our way within the fortnight.  I told you, wherever you are is where I want to be.”

Four weeks later, Rebecca is supervising the movers as their belongings were moved from the truck to their new house, she had Bastiaan strapped to her chest and Romejin to her back.

Matthijs was incredibly impressed with the core strength that took, that she was striding around the house bossing everyone around while carrying nearly 20 kilos of children.  He’d offered to take one or both the boys, but she’d waved him off claiming he’d be more useful making sure their furniture was in the right place and put back together correctly so they all had a place to sleep that night.

The weekend after the news came, the four of them had headed north armed with a list of properties for rent that her solicitor had found and spent two days inspecting them and exploring the local area.  They’d chosen a little cottage in Hoogerheide that wouldn’t feel painfully big like the London house did, but still had more than enough space for the family of four.  

Including Rebecca’s garden.

Deborah had made the trip over, ostensibly to help but at times was more of a hindrance and had been sent into town by Rebecca to do some shopping for the boys' bedrooms.  She’d offered to take Romejin with her to keep him out from underfoot, but by that time he was fast asleep and slumped against his mothers back.  Of all of them, the two and half year old was taking the move the hardest.  He didn’t understand why they needed to move and was struggling with all the changes and had been clinging to Rebecca.  He’d only just started getting used to the baby and now things were changing again.

Bastiaan didn’t even notice, at 4 months he had a full belly, clean nappy and warm place to sleep so all was right in his world.

Living in Hoogerheide was very different from their life in Erp.

It was more than the larger home and busier city… it was the initial loneliness as they settled in with only each other.

The first week was the hardest, Bastiaan, who had been sleeping for a solid 5 hours in the night had regressed back to waking every 2 hours and Romejin, unused to the stillness and different noises, had ended up in their bed more often than not.

Rebecca missed her friends.

It was made harder by Matthijs getting barely any time off and was expected to report for duty the Tuesday after they moved.  They barely had the house livable, thankfully her mother had decided to stay for the week and was happily entertaining the boys while Rebecca unpacked and got the house organised.

Then Deborah went home and life had to go on.

The boys finally settled down, Romejin in his own room and Bastiaan was sleeping better again.  Matthijs came home with invitations out to dinner and Rebecca found playgroups and a gym within walking distance.

Before they can blink, Romejin is turning 3, then it’s Sinterklaas and Christmas and then they’re celebrating Bastiaan’s first birthday.  Life is hard, but life is good.

The only news about Sassy and Nora comes from Deborah who is still in touch with Sassy’s parents.  Apparently the marriage is breaking further and further down and they are growing unhappier as each day passes.

Rebecca hasn’t reached out in over a year and isn’t planning too.  Sassy had made the choice for both of them.

Bastiaan is a completely different child to Romeijn.  Where Romejin has always been shy and quiet, Bastiaan is boisterous and unafraid of anyone, toddling up to whoever is around even if he doesn’t know them.  Since the moment he had learned to crawl, he had been on the go and had yet to stop.

Rebecca never thought she would be the type of parent to leash her child but here she was with a 14 month old that didn’t want to be carried and refused to remain in a pram, he wanted to walk or run on his own two feet and she could never predict which direction he would choose to go.  Bastiaan wanted to see everything and meet everyone and her heart couldn’t take it anymore.

So now he was leashed.

The first time Roosje and Joris saw it, Rebecca was terrified they would judge her.  Instead they both burst into peals of uncontrollable laughter and it took them quite a while to calm down enough to explain.

“Matthijs was the same…” Roosje finally gets out between giggles “And if the stories Joris’ mother told me are true, so was he.”

“So when you cursed me to have a son like me, this is what you meant?” Matthijs glares at his mother but there is no heat behind it.  Turning to her partner Rebecca levels her own glare at him and holds out the end of the leash.

“Your genes, your fault…” She shook it gently at him with a steely look until he took it with a resigned sigh knowing he would be on Bastiaan duty when they were out for the foreseeable future.

Even the leash wasn’t always enough and occasionally Matthijs would end up picking him up by his little belt and would walk around with the raging toddler dangling by his side.

So while physically Bastiaan was a blend of the two of them, apparently everything else was his fathers fault.

In Chelmsford, Sassy dropped bonelessly onto the sofa as Darren slammed the front door as he left the house after another fight.

Opening up her messages she scrolled until she found ‘Stinky’ and opened it up to read the last message Rebecca sent.

Whatever is happening or that you’re going through, ignoring me isn’t going to make it better.   I can’t and won’t make myself less to make you feel better over something that isn’t my fault.  I won’t be initiating contact again, the next move is up to you.

The screen blurred as tears pooled in her eyes.  She missed her best friend.

With a deep swallow, she made her decision.  This wasn’t something that could be done via text, making her way upstairs she quickly packed overnight bags for herself and Nora and took the 7 year old to her grandparents.

The next day, just after lunch she pulled her rental car up to Rebecca and Matthijs’ houseboat… well she thought it was theirs, it didn’t take her long to realise it wasn’t any longer.

The man who answered the door apologised profusely, he’d lived there for nearly a year and had no idea where the former residents had moved to.

Her pride wouldn’t let her pick up the phone and call to find out where they had moved to.

END CHAPTER 6

Chapter Text

March 2016

As it turned out, one of the only ways to get Bastiaan to sit still was a football match.

They’d debated back and forth on whether he was ready to go to a match with them or if they should get a sitter.  There had been no such discussion around taking Romejin, they simply packed him up and got on the road.

At the end of the day, Matthijs had won her over with a shrug and “We’ll never know until we take him…”

So the four of them had made the drive up to Utrecht for a match against Ajax.

When the players take the pitch and the whistle is blown, for the first time since learning to crawl, Bastiaan sits still, staring in wonderment.

One of the things Rebecca loved most about living in the Netherlands is that they could go to a football match without cameras being shoved in her face.  She could take her boys to a match without worrying their pictures would appear in the papers or online that day.  It helped immensely that very few people from England actually knew where she was living and the people they knew in the Netherlands either hadn’t made the connection or didn’t care.

The moment Sassy was standing outside their previous home, they were sitting in the stands, in 3 premium seats, Romejin between them and Bastiaan being passed back and forth.  All four of them in their red and white kits

If fleet street caught sight of her in another team's kit the scandal would be horrendous and Rebecca didn’t care.

As much as she'd craved a back garden for the boys to play in, Rebecca is unable to completely hide her disgust when Romejin discovers worms.

Not long later, he discovered bugs and spent hours searching for them and studying them.

And he loved bringing whatever he’d discovered to his mother for her to exclaim over.

It was their second summer in Woensdrecht and she let the boys run around their garden as much as they wanted so long as the weather remained fine.  Even then, on rainy days, she would occasionally sit on the porch with a cup of tea while they ran around and got themselves muddy just to get them out of the house for a while.

But why did it have to be worms?

Three days before Christmas Rebecca did not expect to be staring at a positive pregnancy test.

While she wasn’t upset about the prospect of another baby, getting pregnant had not been on her 2016 to do list.

She hadn’t even brought up another child with Matthijs, wanting to wait a little bit longer before trying again.  With Bastiaan about to turn 2 and Romejin starting school the following September, she’d been considering starting to try for a third in the summer.  Admittedly, she was positive he would be happy about it, having maintained the stance that she could have as many babies as she wanted.

Two weeks later, her heart drops as the midwife frowns at her blood test results and sends her for an immediate ultrasound.

As Rebecca sits in the waiting room alone, she regrets waiving off Matthijs’ offer to request the afternoon off to come with her.

When she’d booked the appointment with the midwife she’d assumed it would be the same as every other initial appointment she’d had.  They go over her blood test results, confirm the approximate due date and how her previous pregnancies had gone and book in for the first ultrasound a week or two later.

The technician doesn’t let her see the screen and while they’ve always been stoic in the past, there’s something in her eyes she is unable to hide.

In that moment, Rebecca knows deep down that something has gone terribly wrong.

After another lonely and anxiety riddled wait the midwife calls her back into a consulting room and confirms her fears… the pregnancy isn’t viable.

Anembryonic Pregnancy.

Numbly, she looks where the midwife points on the scan where the placenta and the empty sac are.  There’s no baby in there and possibly never was.

“...I’m sorry Rebecca…”

A lone tear spills out of her eye and makes its way down a pale cheek as she processes everything that feels impossible to take in.  Leaning forward, she takes a deep gulping breath in an attempt to hold back the sob that’s wants to escape and within moments the midwife is by her side, rubbing a gentle hand up and down her back.

She misses Danika.

Several long minutes pass before she finally manages to clamp down on the grief.  She needed to get through this appointment, get home and then once she was alone she could break down.

“What happens now?” she manages to ask as she accepts the offered tissues and water.

“You can wait, your body should begin the process of expelling all the tissue fairly soon and the miscarriage will be complete another two or so weeks after that.  We can induce the miscarriage with medication or you can request a curettage.  All of the options have their pros and cons…”

Rebecca nodded mechanically “Can I… do I…” pausing to take another deep breath she tried again.

“Do I have to decide now or can I talk to my partner first?” She knew what Matthijs would say.  She knew he would tell her to take care of herself first and foremost, to make the decision she could live with and he would support her no matter what but she didn’t need his words, she needed his presence.

“I’ll give you some information on each and a referral to the gynaecologist, I’ll also include things you need to keep watch for…”

When she gets home an hour later, referral and information in hand, Rebecca knows she isn’t in any condition to look after the boys and asks the sitter to stay until Matthijs gets home.

She drops all of the paperwork on the bench, unable to look at it anymore.  Up in their bedroom, she slowly undresses and heads to the shower.  Once the hot spray is beating down on her, stinging with every hit the sobs she’s been holding back finally erupt.

When the sobs finally abate, she drags herself out of the shower and dries off, forcing herself not to look at her belly or let her hand linger there.  Overcome by exhaustion she pulls on her warmest pyjamas and crawls into bed.

Trying not to think about what might have been, she drifts off into an uneasy sleep and dreams of things she doesn’t remember but leaves her with dread sitting like a stone in the pit of her stomach.

When she wakes hours later, the room is mostly dark and a warm little body is curled into her chest.  Looking down, fresh tears spring to her eyes as she sees Bastiaan’s peacefully sleeping face.

Leaning down she pressed a kiss to his curly blonde hair, her wild little boy, who always had to be moving and exploring throughout the day but when the sun set he sought her out for cuddles and comfort.

“He insisted…” Matthijs’ soft voice came from the other side of the bed “They both did…”

Rolling over gently, she squinted and found Matthijs sitting up on his side of the bed, Romejin snoring softly between them.

In his lap was the information packet the midwife had given her, the pages slightly crumpled as though they’d been read multiple times.

They probably had, and the phone by his side would have been used all evening for him to do his own research.

“I called my commander and requested emergency leave for the rest of the week.  I can take next week if I need to as well.” he murmured as he reached out and laced his fingers through hers.

“I don’t know what to do…” she whispered.

This isn’t a conversation they should be having with the boys in the room and if she is honest with herself, she isn’t in any condition to be discussing it right now anyway.

“So we sleep and we’ll talk about it tomorrow…”

Bastiaan snuffled and pressed himself further into her chest.

“Do you want me to move them to their beds?” he asks, already knowing the answer.

Rebecca shakes her head lightly “They’re fine… I’d prefer them close.”

Closing her eyes, she tries to drift back to sleep but her mind is too crowded, too noisy and nothing she tries calms it down.  She doesn’t know how long passes before she speaks again.

“Tell me a story… something from your younger days in the military… something ridiculous and unbelievable…”

It was one of the first things about him she fell in love with… his ability to tell the most outrageous stories in the most believable way.

Eventually she drifts off, comforted by the rumble of his voice.

The next morning, she still doesn’t have an answer.

A part of her wants it over and done with, doesn’t want to be pregnant a second longer than she has to if there isn’t going to be a baby at the end, another part is still hoping that the technician and midwife were wrong, the blood test showing negligible HCG levels and scan showing there was no growing baby was wrong.

That come August, Romejin and Bastiaan would have another sibling, maybe a little girl they would love and torment in equal measure or another boy to add to the chaos and leave her even more woefully outnumbered than she already was.

Deep down she knows no mistakes were made, that it isn’t to be right now and pretending otherwise will only hurt herself, she knows she’ll request the mifegyne when she sees the gynaecologist the following day.

Matthijs knows as well, he always seems to know…

There are so many things they can talk about endlessly and so many things they don’t need to say, that they just know.  After nearly 7 years together they’ve seen the other rage at the world, grieve loss, find joy and laughter.

The days when he comes home and Rebecca just knows he doesn’t want to talk about it, he just wants to forget the outside world and exist in their little bubble for a while.  Or when Rebecca needs space, she’s overstimulated and touched out and needs to be left alone.

When they need to stand side by side or when they need to stand behind the other and hold them steady.

It’s the equal partnership that she hadn’t seen growing up but she’d always hoped for.

He watches her all throughout the day, carefully and with sad eyes, Rebecca isn’t made of glass but she’s far from unbreakable.

When they get home from the clinic, the doctor having confirmed everything the midwife had told her, she puts the misoprostol safely in her bathroom drawer ready to take as directed.

Despite the freezing cold weather and the incredibly short day, Matthijs bundles the boys up and takes them out into the garden to play while Rebecca sits on the porch underneath a warm blanket and with hot tea in hand.

It doesn’t take long for Romejin to decide he’s had enough of playing and the four year old to join his mother, snuggling up under the blanket on her lap.  She listens with a smile on her face as he describes all of the things he’d seen and done in the half an hour he’d wandered the yard with his father and brother.

The waiting is almost unbearable but precisely as directed when she gets up on the Saturday morning she inserts the misoprostol and lies back down and waits.

The waiting is excruciating.

By lunch time the cramps have set in and Matthijs hovers over her worrying, he’d offered to call his parents and ask them to take the boys for a few days but she’d refused.  Rebecca wanted to keep them close.

When she wakes up on Sunday morning it’s to find she’s bled through the pad, her pyjamas and onto the sheets below.  Matthijs silently sends her to the shower and quickly strips the bed.

Standing under the hot spray Rebecca can’t take her eyes off the blood running down her thighs and mixing with the water before going down the drain.

Logically, she knows it isn’t their baby, it never was, it never had a chance to become but her heart still aches.

When she had told Matthijs she wanted a baby over 5 years before a part of her had thought they would have one and be done.  She would have her baby and be happy with that, but as sick as she’d been, as hard as pregnancy was on her body and as exhausting caring for a growing child while balancing her work was, she'd loved every minute off.

Telling Matthijs on Romejin’s first birthday that she wanted to eventually try for a second hadn’t been a new thought, she’d been considering it for months, weighing the pro’s and con’s.  Money wasn’t a factor, nor was time… she was blissfully happy with Romejin and the day he’d taken his first steps from the safety of his fathers arms towards her she’d decided another baby could only add to it and her mind was made up.

Then they’d had Bastiaan, a much more fractious infant and the opposite of his brother in every way but she’d been right, nothing had been lost and so much had been gained.

A sharp cramp shoots through her lower abdomen and tears spring to her eyes at the pain as the blood continues to flow.

Rebecca doesn’t really like it but she lies to her mother when she calls to cancel her planned visit the following weekend, claiming the boys picked up something at playgroup and all four of them were sick.

Matthijs spins the same story to his parents a week later, while Rebecca has been cleared by the gynaecologist and the miscarriage is complete they need time and having to entertain parents will not help.

Both the boys picked up on their parents mood and as a result become clingier and more unwilling to be left with a sitter but as the weeks pass and winter gives way to spring, life settles back down once more.

Once summer is in full swing, Matthijs surprises Rebecca, instead of a quick weekend getaway for their bi-annual check up, he’s organised for the boys to stay with his parents and spirits her down to the yacht on the mediterranean for a week.

It’s the longest they’ve had alone together since Romejin was born and the week is good for them.

They have no work, no children, no chores.  Just the two of them…

She misses her boys, of course she does.  They both do but they needed this time to reconnect and are making the most of it.

On their last night anchored off Formentera, they lie together out on deck staring up at the stars.  She has her head resting on his shoulder while their fingers are entwined.

“When I retire, let’s take a month off and do something like this…” he rumbles out after a long stretch of comfortable silence.

“When’s that again?” Rebecca asks.

“I get my 20 late next year” he squeezes her lightly, the arm wrapped around her drifting lower to cup her hip.

She hums contentedly “So after that christmas we all head to where it’s summer.  The Seychelles or South Pacific somewhere…”

She hadn’t realised his retirement was coming up so quickly.  Since the day he brought it up, it had always felt so far off in some nebulous future and a part of her had wondered if he would really be ready to leave the military.  Now though, with him speaking so wistfully of life after it was becoming a reality.

“And after that?” she prods slightly wanting his thoughts on what came next.

“I think…” he pauses, trying to find the right words “I think by then you’ll need to be in London, you have unfinished business there…”

Rebecca wants to ask if he’s talking about Sassy, whom she hasn’t spoken to in nearly 3 years, or about the club that they’ll attend the occasional match for and is finishing lower and lower on the table with every year that passes.

Or both.

“So when we get back from our month of indolence, we pack up and move to London.”

He sounded so sure that it was the right move for them, so she nods and grins as his hand slides lower and she raises herself up to lie on top of him.

Romejin and Bastiaan were ecstatic to see them.

As much fun as they’d had with their oma and opa they missed their parents.

At the end of July they plan a weekend with everyone in Hoorne, including her parents who turn up in the Netherlands without fail for a weekend every month no matter where they are.  The past few years have improved the relationship between Rebecca, Deborah and Paul incalculably.

Admittedly, things are still a bit icy between Rebecca and her father but she isn’t willing to risk the relationship her boys have with him.  They adore their grandpa and he adores them in return.

She hates him as much as she loves him…

Joris glanced at his son as Matthijs watched Rebecca hose down their 4 year old and 2 and half year old boys.  Romejin had gotten it into his head to jump in the muddy puddles and Bastiaan had followed along like a little shadow leaving the two of them covered in mud and muck from head to toe.  Nearby, Paul looks on, chuckling, the two grandfathers having encouraged the boys and are nearly as muddy.  Seeing how much fun they were having, Matthijs had happily joined in as well.  This was the type of boys will be boys behaviour they were happy to encourage.

Rebecca plans on turning the hose on the three adult men next and is fully prepared for the consequences from Matthijs.

Joris still adored Rebecca and could see his son was just as smitten with her as the day he first brought her home.  It was also infinitely clear how much Rebecca adored Matthijs and their boys.

“Will we be getting another grandchild any time soon?” Joris asks quietly, causing Matthijs to jump a little.  He knows his son well and concern shoots through him at the grief that flies across Matthijs’ face but is quickly hidden.

“Maybe” he shrugs.  “I told her after Romejin was born it was up to her.  However many babies she wants I’ll be happy with.  When she says we’re done, we’re done but well… we’ll see.”  He knew his partner well, knew how happy she was with their boys and how much the miscarriage just after Bastiaan’s birthday had hurt.  Neither of their parents knew about it and he knew she had needed time to heal both physically and emotionally from it but she’d made a few offhand comments over the last few weeks that made him think she was ready to try again.

There was also the fact that in the months immediately following the miscarriage, Rebecca had been incredibly paranoid about using birth control, ensuring they always had a stock of condoms available and they were used every single time.  She had even talked about going back on birth control herself, but since their week in the mediterranean she’d once again become much more lax about it.  Not worrying if they got caught up in the moment and forgot.

Both were surprised when Rebecca went pale, then a sickly shade of green before dropping the hose and heading inside.

“Or baby number 3 is already on its way.” Joris commented as Matthijs went to check on her, leaving the boys in their grandfather's capable hands.

When he gets inside, he finds his mother is already with Rebecca, clucking over her as she vomits into the kitchen sink having been unable to make it to the bathroom.

Knowing how much Rebecca hates being touched and fussed over when she is being sick, he attempts to divert his mother who gives him a filthy look but acquiesces and steps back. 

Deborah walking in while this was happening didn’t help, but at least she didn’t try and crowd Rebecca.

Once their mothers are out of the room and her stomach is empty he guides her to sit at the table and hands over a glass of water, watching her carefully as her eyes dart back and forth in thought and he knows she’s counting.

“I should have had my period just after we got back from our trip” she eventually says, and he can see the fear in her eyes and hear it in her voice.

Kneeling down in front of her, Matthijs takes her face in his hands and waits for her gaze to meet his.  When it does, he can see the unshed tears in her eyes.

“I’m not going to ask if you’re ok, that’s a stupid question.  You’re scared, so am I, I don’t want to watch you go through that again but don’t borrow trouble ok.  You’ll take a test, we’ll find out for sure and take each day as it comes.”

He should have expected one of their mothers to corner him when he got back from taking Rebecca to the place they kept around the corner from his parents, but he didn’t so Matthijs is surprised when Deborah is waiting by the front door.

“When?” she asks without preamble.

“When, what?” He knows what she is asking about.

“Firstly, if you think Roosje and I weren’t eavesdropping on the two of you, well…?” she shrugged and smirked at him “and secondly I know my daughter, I know she’ll tell me when she’s ready and not a second before but based on your conversation I’m guessing she lost a baby?” There's something deeply empathetic in Deborah’s gaze and Matthijs softens but after a moment of thought decides not to give her anything, if Rebecca wanted her to know she would tell Deborah herself.

“The boys still out the back? He asks instead.

Seconds later he’s fending off his own mothers questions and Roosje walks away with as little information as Deborah did.

She didn’t even need to ask Matthijs to attend the first appointment with the midwife, as soon as it was booked in he was reorganising his schedule.

It was a nerve wracking appointment, but they left with tentative good news.  Everything appeared as it should.

The following weeks are spent on tenterhooks but they are also approaching Romejin’s first day of school and the day when they went shopping for school supplies is bittersweet, Rebecca couldn’t believe her first baby was starting school.

They’d had him in pre-school 2 half days a week for the last year but this was different, this was proper school 5 days a week.

Romejin was more than ready but Rebecca wasn’t.

Even so, on his first day Rebecca and Matthijs walk him down to the school, Bastiaan riding his fathers shoulders.

That afternoon, they stand outside Rebecca chatting with one of the other parents while Matthijs occupies Bastiaan and when Romejin appears his face lights up at the sight of his mother and he runs straight into her arms.

Bastiaan doesn’t know what to do with himself with Romeijn in school, he’d been used to having Rebecca to himself for the 2 half days but 5 full days was a completely different story.

“No school!” Bastiaan demanded as he tried to tug Romejin’s bag from his older brother's grip on the following Monday.

It was not a good start to the morning.

Rebecca had been up for hours, sitting by the toilet wishing the nausea either developed into full blown vomiting or went away altogether and not this in between state she’d been stuck in for weeks.  

At least with the boys, she’d had periods where the nausea abated and she felt human again but this little one had decided she needed to feel mostly miserable all of the time instead of completely miserable some of the time.

So dealing with a disconsolate toddler was not on her to do list.

Reaching down she pried his little fingers from the bags straps and once the bag was free lifted him into her arms.

“I know…” she whispered and then winced as he shrieked in rage and tried to throw himself backwards.  “I know, you miss Romejin when he’s at school… I want him home with us as well… but he has to go…” 

Pacing back and forth she continued to whisper nonsense.  Big feelings were hard for a 2 and a half year old.

Eventually his shrieks give way to sobs and despite it only being 8 in the morning the sobs die down and his body is slumped into hers in sleep.

Glancing at her watch, Rebecca sighs, she has just enough time to walk them down to the school.  Fortunately they had all eaten breakfast before the meltdown so she straps Bastiaan into the mostly unused pram and they head down.

The rest of the week is just the same, and the week after.

Eventually though, Bastiaan settles into the new routine making their mornings that much easier and their days much calmer.

The 12 week scan goes well and despite Rebecca fast approaching her 40th birthday, it appears both she and the baby are healthy.

Rebecca and Matthijs keep the news to themselves until the day after Romejin’s 5th birthday party.

At 15 weeks, the baby is making itself known earlier than with both the boys, but the weather is cool enough that she can hide her belly with a jumper or jacket.

Their parents are all delighted at the news and while Romejin understands in a way what a new baby means, Bastiaan doesn’t and frowns in consternation when Joris asks him if he’s looking forward to being a big brother.

“Romejin’s the big brother, not Bastiaan!” he states confidently before running off to tell his papa that opa is confused.

There was something different about this pregnancy and Rebecca couldn’t quite put her finger on it.  Other than the consistent low grade nausea and occasional vomiting, she hadn’t been nearly as sick as she’d been with the boys, and it felt as though the baby was sitting differently as well.

While they were at the 20 week anatomy scan, she thought she could see something different and when they get home she lays one of the print outs side by side with the same scans from when she was pregnant with the boys and her suspicion deepens.

Something definitely appears to be missing from the new one… she decides not to tell Matthijs.  He can be surprised.

After she goes to bed that night, Matthijs pulls out the images and checks the exact same thing, he quickly decides not to tell Rebecca and let her be surprised.

In early December, Matthijs notifies the Airforce of his intention to retire the following December and starts the long process said retirement requires.  It’s not a surprise to his commander as when he’d transferred to Woensdrecht he’d been quite honest about his long term plans.

As always, they spend Sinterklaas with Joris and Roosje and Christmas in London and although it’s the 4th one in a row they don’t see Sassy, Darren and Nora, Rebecca is starting to wonder if she misses Sassy or just the idea of her.  She doesn’t need to wonder the same for Nora, she knows she’s missing out on her goddaughters life and it hurts.

She regrets that Romejin hasn’t seen his godparents since he was one, regrets that Bastiaan has never met them and it appears as though the new baby won’t either.  Despite her regrets she still chooses not to reach out.  She won’t give that power back to Sassy.

Rebecca is just into the 3rd trimester when the anniversary of the miscarriage comes around.

Romejin was settled back in school after the christmas break and she and Bastiaan have their daily routine down pat.  Admittedly, it’s a routine that will be thrown out the window come March.

Once the boys are in bed, she and Matthijs spend the evening curled up on the couch together, the fire crackling and soft music playing in the background, the two of them chasing little hands and feet around Rebecca’s belly.

“They’d be 6 months old by now…” Rebecca murmurs, her grief no longer sharp but a dull ache of what might have been.

“I know…”

“Then we wouldn’t have this little one…” she muses, having had to deal with getting this pregnancy confirmed not long before she would have been due to give birth.  It had been quite the mind fuck.

“Yeah…”

When Deborah offers to come and stay in the weeks leading up to Rebecca’s due date so she can look after the boys when the baby is born, Rebecca’s first instinct is to refuse.

“Remember how hard it was on Romejin when you brought Bastiaan home?” Deborah pushed on “I can stay with the boys while you’re in hospital and then if you need me to, walk Romejin to school or take Bastiaan to playgroup once you’re home.”

Deborah makes a good point.

Rebecca eyes her mother suspiciously wondering if this is an attempt to circumvent their two week rule or if it is a genuine offer.  She doesn’t like thinking of her mother like that but she needs to look after herself first and foremost.

“Let me talk to Matthijs…” She eventually says; they had already discussed a few different options for the boys when the baby was born but hadn’t made a decision yet.

When they discuss it alone later that evening, Rebecca has become more worried about upsetting Roosje by having Deborah look after the boys.  So much so that she calls Roosje to make sure it won’t be an issue.  Matthijs tries to reassure her that it won’t be but Rebecca hears the hurt in her mothers voice every time they get Roosje and Joris to look after the boys.

“Your mother already called me about it…” Roosje laughs off her concerns “It’s fine, we live closer and look after the boys all the time.  I told her I didn’t have a problem and to call me if she needs back up.  I know what your two rascals are like.”

With a due date of mid March, Deborah decides to stay after she and Paul visit the last weekend of February, popping over first thing in the morning to walk Romejin the school and entertaining Bastiaan to let Rebecca get a bit more rest. 

Jelka Sabri de Graaf is born on the 7th March 2018

END CHAPTER 7

Chapter Text

March 2017

The contractions had been coming on and off all weekend and just when Rebecca thought they were regular enough to be real labour, they stopped.

Contrary little thing.

That was until the Tuesday afternoon when they didn’t stop and she passed the mucous plug.  Slowly but surely they came closer and closer together.  Rebecca slept as much as she could and when her mother got there Wednesday morning to walk Romejin to school it was to find Rebecca on the yoga ball breathing through a contraction.

“Do I have time to go get my overnight bag?” Deborah asks as she presses a kiss to Rebecca’s temple.

“Take Bastiaan with you just in case” Matthijs answers for her.  Things had been slow going so far but they were at the stage where anything could happen.

When the two of them get back to the house an hour later it’s empty.

It seemed that once things got going they moved faster than with either of the boys and unlike her brothers, when Jelka is born just after 1 that afternoon she didn’t rage at the world.

After the first kitten cries and she is laid on her mothers chest Jelka quiets down straight away, wide blue eyes attempting to take in the fuzzy world around her.  

“We got our Jelka!” Rebecca grins up at him with a blinding smile.

As with the boys once they are settled into their room alone, Rebecca and Matthijs snuggle into the bed together to check the newest member of the family from head to toe, commenting on the shared features.

“How do you think she’ll handle the chaos?” Matthijs runs a gentle finger down the baby’s cheek that he is positive came from Rebecca along with the eye shape and nose but the lips, chin and complexion was all from his side.

Rebecca hummed and let her head drop to his shoulder.  “I think she’ll have her papa and brothers wrapped around her little finger and will be the instigator in some chaos but get none of the blame…”

They decide not to bring the boys to the centre to meet their sister, instead Matthijs heads home for a few hours in the evening and explains mama will be bringing their sister home the next day and patiently answers their questions as he shows them the photos on his phone.

Bastiaan is still stubbornly caught on the fact that he is the little brother while Romejin is the big brother and doesn’t appear to be in the mood to change his mind on that fact.  Hopefully once he meets his sister and has a physical baby to refer to it will sink in.

After putting them both to bed, he leaves Deborah in charge and heads back to spend the night with Rebecca and Jelka.  When he arrives, it’s to find Rebecca standing by the window swaying and singing softly as Jelka eats.  Matthijs would swear to anyone who’ll listen Rebecca gets more beautiful with every year that passes and he’ll never get tired of the sight of her with one of their babies.

The next day, after the final checks they get home to an empty and mostly tidy house in the early afternoon.

With a few hours before Deborah brings the boys back the 3 of them settle in for a nap and by the time Deborah is letting herself and the boys in, Matthijs is awake but Rebecca and Jelka are still asleep.  Closing the bedroom door gently behind him Matthijs smiles at his mother in law in thanks.

“Let me know if you need any help.” Deborah presses a kiss to his cheek “I’ll be in town until Paul comes over for us to meet the baby, maybe a bit longer if Rebecca needs me.”

Once the front door is closed, Matthijs gives the boys an afternoon snack just as he starts to hear movement in the bedroom telling him that Rebecca is at least awake.  They’d agreed he would bring the boys in when Jelka was asleep and settled, trying to do an introduction with a screaming newborn would lead to disaster.

It’s another half an hour before he hears their bedroom door click open and his watch beeps with a message from her telling him the coast is clear.

“Boys…?” He calls them over and waits until he has both of their attentions before crouching to get on eye level with them.  “Do you remember what I told you about your mama and your sister?”

Bastiaan’s face screws up in confusion as he shakes his head but Romejin’s eyes light up as he nods his head.

“Mama and Jelka will be home today and they’ll be very tired and we need to be calm and gentle with the baby.” The 5 year old parrots seriously.

Bastiaan copies his brother and nods his head eagerly.

“Good boys!” He praises both of them.  “Do you want to see your mama and meet your sister?”

Both of them promptly forget to be calm and jump up and down cheering.

Chuckling, Matthijs didn’t bother to try and quieten them down, they would learn quickly not to wake the baby and the baby would get used to the noise.  Taking their hands in his he first takes them to the bathroom to wash up then leads them back to the master bedroom where Rebecca is in the bed and the baby in her bassinet.

A bright smile crosses her face as the boys run for the bed and scramble up to join her, he watches from the door as the 3 of them chatter away, the boys filling Rebecca in on everything that had happened in the last 36 hours.

Slowly, Rebecca loses Romejin’s attention as he creeps back to the side of the bed to try and see into the bassinet.  Looking up to lock eyes with Matthijs, Rebecca nods her head and he steps forward to scoop the baby up.

“Romejin, come sit next to mama…” she slides Bastiaan to her left and pats the bed with her right hand and waits until they are both settled before holding her arms out to take Jelka from Matthijs.  Pulling out his phone, he pulls up the camera and starts to record the interaction to send to their parents.

Laying the sleeping baby on her thighs, Rebecca watches the boys closely as they take in their sister for the first time.  Bastiaan is the first to react, reaching out to touch her.

“Be gentle…” she warns him softly, Romejin doesn’t need the warning.

As first meetings go, it’s not a disaster.  Bastiaan is older than Romeijn was when introduced to his newborn sibling and understands a bit more.

Rebecca and Matthijs are also more experienced at dividing their focus between the older children and a newborn.  It helps that the spring weather is beautiful and Rebecca can sit in the garden with the baby while the boys play and even leave her sleeping in the shaded bassinet while she and Matthijs join them in their adventures.

Rebecca even recovers better from the birth than she did with the boys, bouncing back faster which is a surprise.  Everyone had warned her that it would be harder to recover the older she got but it seemed the opposite was true.

Or perhaps it was simply she knew her limits better in the early weeks.

It also helps that there are times Romejin gets to the crying baby before either of his parents and they find him standing by the bassinet talking quietly to his baby sister or patting her gently the way he sees his parents do.  Bastiaan’s little hands are diverted away from the baby more often than not, he understands the concept of gentleness but is still learning to put it into practice.

For the first time when the grandparents arrive to meet the new baby, Rebecca doesn’t need to hand the baby over and take herself off for a nap, instead getting to enjoy the first few moments as Deborah cuddles her granddaughter.  

Watching her father tear up when Deborah gently hands the baby over proves that she did the right thing confronting her father all those years before.

It doesn’t take long for Paul to doze off in their recliner, Jelka sleeping contentedly on his chest and Rebecca can’t stop herself from pulling out her phone and snapping a photo.

She doesn’t question why too deeply.

It doesn’t take Rebecca long to notice that as Jelka grows and becomes more aware of her surroundings she constantly follows her brother's movements and voices when they are all in the room together.

Her first smile is at 8 weeks old and Rebecca’s suspicion that she will be a Daddy’s girl is strengthened when it is given to Matthijs when he walks in from work one evening.

It’s only fair, considering how much of a mama’s boy Romejin has always been.

The first day Rebecca feels comfortable walking Romejin to school while maintaining control of the pram and Bastiaan is an adventure in itself.  Matthijs had been doing the school run until he went back to work, and Rebecca had driven back and forth and kept the baby in the car until she had her 8 week vaccinations.  Now Jelka was a little older and her immune system was a little more developed. Rebecca was trying to get into a new routine.

The four of them would walk down to the school to drop Romejin off, then head to the shops to pick up any bits and pieces needed before the weekend before heading home.

Sometimes they stopped at the park and sometimes they went straight home.  Most afternoons they would go to a playgroup before going back to the school to pick up Romejin.

Jelka was a hit both at the school and playgroup, a happy and easy going baby she didn’t seem to care who was holding her and while Rebecca was cautious about who she handed the baby to she was always grateful when someone cuddled her so she could wrangle Bastiaan.

With Matthijs wanting to save up as much of his leave as possible for his retirement payout they decided to skip any type of trip away during the summer, settling for weekends in Hoorne and London.

Matthijs was hoping to take the boys camping for a week the following summer, Rebecca had waved him off and firmly stated she and Jelka would have a girls week while they were gone.

Camping was an adventure with papa and Jelka could join them once she’d turned 2.

The year seemed to fly by and at the same time crawled.  With so much change approaching it seemed as though they didn’t go a week without having to organise something or start some kind of preparation for their move.

Jelka would barely notice the move and never remember living in Hoogerheide but Romejin and Bastiaan had friends and lives here and relocating to London would be harder on them.  Rebecca and Matthijs were trying to prepare them as much as possible, using phrases like ‘when we live in London’.  They also started speaking more English at home, both the boys were more comfortable speaking Dutch but could hold basic conversations in their mothers language.

After Romejin’s 6th birthday, Rebecca got the boys to help her create a calendar for the rest of the year.  It had Oma and Opa’s visits marked, along with Nana and Grandpa’s, Rebecca’s birthday was marked, then Sinterklass a few days later.  Coloured in bright blue was the 14th of December with ‘Papa’s last day of work’.

Christmas was bright red and green, then on the 29th Romejin had drawn a rough plane with holiday written on it.  Although it wasn’t as rough as she’d expected from a 6 year old, he was showing more interest in artistic things these days.

January was left blank except for Bastiaan’s birthday on the 5th but the 8th of February had a house and the union flag marking the day as the one they flew into London.

How well it would work preparing the boys, they didn’t know but they could hope.

It’s also just after Romejin’s birthday that Jelka starts creeping along the ground, attempting to get to her brothers whenever they are around.  Eyeing the baby as she speeds across the floor Rebecca wouldn’t be surprised if she walked earlier than either of the boys in an attempt to keep up with them.

Smirking as the baby shrieked in rage when her brothers disappeared through the back door leaving her behind, Rebecca leaned over and scooped Jelka up and carried her out into the back garden where Bastiaan and Romejin were kicking a football back and forth.  It still surprised her that Bastiaan was more coordinated than Romejin despite being two years younger.

“See…” Rebecca whispered in the crying baby’s ear “they didn’t leave you behind.”

Tucking the baby tight against her hip, she walks down onto the wet grass.

“Can mama and Jelka play as well?”

On boxing day, Rebecca and Matthijs left the children with Deborah and made their way to the Dog Track with Paul for the Greyhounds match against Norwich City.

They were absolutely decimated, losing 4 - nil putting them in the bottom two teams on the table.  Unless they won or drew every match for the rest of the season, relegation was guaranteed.  Pulling Cyril aside at the end of the match, Rebecca questioned him gruelingly and extracted a promise from him that the team would not be relegated.

“You don’t need to worry about a thing…” Red faced and sweating, Cyril badly attempted to reassure her.

“I will say this once and once only…” Rebecca loomed over him, using her height to her advantage “If my team is relegated then the blame will be placed entirely on yours and Cartrick’s shoulders!  Not the players or the other staff, the two of you.”  She hopes he will never find out that she doesn’t actually care if the team is relegated, she’ll be firing him at the end of the season either way.

Not allowing him to respond, she turned on her heel and made her way over to where Matthijs and Paul were chatting with the Milk sisters.

Blanche and Bianca are as horribly dull as ever and cornered Matthijs regularly to talk at him about god knows what.  They adored him and he tolerated them, but they would be very useful tools in the preparations for her return to England full time.  She looked forward to the day she could finally buy out their shares and wouldn’t need to see them anymore.

Sliding in between Matthijs and Bianca, she laced her fingers with his and put on a bright smile.

“Ready darling, if we don’t get going soon mother will have lost complete control of the children.”

Rebecca still didn’t know how word of the children had not gotten out beyond their small circle and to the eyes and ears of the press.  As predicted, the Milk sisters eyes lit up at the mention of children.  Admittedly, she’d never brought them to a match in England and hadn’t attended any when she was visibly pregnant.

“We didn’t know you had little ones…” Blanche questioned “but then you’ve been so distant since Rupert died, we barely see you.”

Biting back the urge to snap at her for bringing up Rupert, Rebecca merely smiled “Oh yes, 3 in fact and as I said we really should be getting back.”

It wouldn’t take long for word to spread but they would be disappearing off to the Caribbean for the next 6 weeks and hopefully by the time they returned and moved into the house in Petersham full time the worst of the gossip mongering would be over.

The house in Hoogerheide was all packed up and everything was scheduled to be moved to Petersham by the first week of January and by the time they arrived in time for Romejin to start school in February everything should be set up for them.

When they left the Dog Track, Paul headed home to help Deborah with the children while Rebecca and Matthijs headed into the Rosewood to get ready for their night out at Brasserie Zedel.

Late that evening, they’re full of good food, pleasantly tipsy and snuggled into a booth enjoying the jazz music and the ambience

Neither of them notice another patron taking photos of them and as neither of them have twitter they don’t see the post gushing about the loved up couple.

Just after 1am they stumble out into the freezing winter night, Matthijs pulls Rebecca close as they laugh and kiss in the snow.

It’s after 10 that morning by the time they wake up, they take their time on a leisurely lunch before heading back to her parents.

When her father opens the front door it’s with a screaming Jelka in his arms who immediately throws herself at Rebecca, crying and babbling her unhappiness with the amount of time her mother has been gone.

“She was fine until she woke up this morning…” Paul shrugged as he opened the door all the way.

The next 2 days are spent quietly with her parents and they head to the airport on the 29th.

While the children are all used to flying by now, the 11 hours is a longer flight than any of them have been on.

They’d planned for this as much as they could, boarding late in the evening long after the children's bedtimes so they’d sleep through most of the flight.

Well, the boys slept through being carried from the car to the plane's bedroom, at nearly 10 months old Jelka wakes as Rebecca lifts her out of the car seat and cries her way through lift off, batting at the painful pressure in her ears.  Finally settling down once Rebecca gets her latched on, the swallowing helping to pop and relive them.

They both know she won’t stay settled for long so without a word, Matthijs swaps the baby for a wrap and changes her nappy while Rebecca gets herself set up.  Once the baby is comfortable against her chest Jelka dozes off again and her parents recline their seats to get as much sleep as possible.

It isn’t the best nights sleep, Jelka wakes up frequently and both boys come looking for their parents at various times until they give up and all five of them end up napping in the queen sized bed.

Once they’ve landed, they are picked up and driven to the marina where they take a small boat out to the yacht Rebecca was paying through the nose for full service on.

It was worth it though, they had nothing to do for the next 6 weeks but spend time as a family.

They spend the first afternoon exploring the yacht and getting to know the staff, especially Anna who Rebecca had hired to help them wrangle the children.  If they were honest, it was to help with the other two while Rebecca or Matthijs chased after Bastiaan.

They spend the first week anchored off Aruba, getting used to life on a boat again.  They discovered quickly that they needed to make sure the doors from the bedrooms to the deck are locked at night as on the first morning Bastiaan had made his way up the stairs and upon seeing the clear blue water had bolted straight for the stairs he remembered led to the lower deck and the water, only to be grabbed by Matthijs who had been up for an hour to watch the sunrise and had seen the moment Bastiaan had decided to ignore all of their warnings and instructions from the night before.

Tossing the 3 (nearly 4) year old lightly so he was facing him, Matthijs frowned as he held his wild son under his armpits.

“And where are you off to?” he asks sternly.

“Swimming!” Bastiaan announced gleefully, having not yet realised he was in trouble.

“Uh huh… without mama or I?” he wasn’t willing to put Bastiaan down just yet, not trusting his self control.  It took all of Matthijs’ own self control not to chuckle as Bastiaan processed the question and realised what was happening and his little face dropped.

“Sorry papa, I forgot.”

“I know.” He finally pulls the little boy close and sits them down.  “Do you remember why mama and I made that rule?”

The face Bastiaan makes is pure Rebecca in deep thought.

“Because you and mama don’t want us to get hurt so we can’t go down there unless you, mama or Anna are with us.” He proudly announces.

“That’s right…” Matthijs presses a kiss to his temple “Mama and I want you safe.”

That isn’t the last time either of them catch Bastiaan trying to get down to the water and he gets more than one time out and even a few whole afternoons where he’s banned from the lower deck and spends it pouting by one of his parents' side as his siblings play with the other.

Knowing Romejin would be missing 6 weeks of formal school, Rebecca had reached out to the school he would be attending in Petersham and confirmed where he was expected to be at the start of spring term.  They set aside some time each day to work with him on the lessons he would be missing to make sure he was up to speed with his peers when he went back to school.

There were a few places, Rebecca noted, that he was already ahead and others he was woefully behind simply due to the differences in the education systems.  She focussed on those areas first and started looking into a decent tutoring service just in case.  He was only 6 though and a part of her was screaming that she was overreacting and he would catch up in time.

He was also a very clever little boy, having inherited Matthijs’ logic driven mind along with Rebecca’s problem solving skills.  The older he got, the more interest he was showing in understanding how things worked, always looking to build and create.  At first she’d thought he would be the one to follow Matthijs’ footsteps and become a pilot but that was starting to change as his drawing started to take precedence over building.  It was interesting to watch as his understanding of the world expanded and influences other than his parents and grandparents, how he was changing and growing.

The next 5 weeks are spent hopping from island to island, Aruba, Curacao, Bonaire before heading east to Grenada then north through St Vincent, St Lucia and Martinique.

Some days they didn’t leave the yacht, relaxing, swimming and playing; others they explored whatever island they were anchored near at the time.

Anna was a godsend as an extra pair of hands, sitting with the baby while she napped or chasing after one of the boys.  Watching out for all 3 while they slept and Rebecca and Matthijs had date nights.

Hundreds of photos were added to the camera rolls on their phones.

They know Jelka will never remember the trip and Bastiaan will only have vague memories but they are already planning for future summer holidays.  Neither Rebecca or Matthijs had travelled to this part of the world before, there was so much to see and experience and they wanted to expose their children to as much of it as possible.

“Do we have to go back?” Rebecca asked one night as they sat under the stars a bottle of Argentinian malbec nearly finished between them.

“What, you want to spend the rest of our lives travelling from island to island, playing in the sun all day?” Matthijs snorted and scratched at the beard he had been letting grow.  Having been clean shaven while in the military, he was now taking the opportunity to experiment with his facial hair.  Rebecca had vetoed a mustache but didn’t mind the scruffy look he had going at the moment.  A full beard might be interesting but was months away if he was patient enough to let it grow.

“Why not?  It’s not like we actually need to work…” she giggled “We can teach the children ourselves, show them the world, spend our nights just like this, drinking good wine and having fantastic sex in the moonlight…”

“Oh really?” Matthijs leered at her and put his wineglass on the table and reached over to take hers from her hand before sliding off his deckchair and climbing onto hers to hover over her.

“Is it the moonlight that makes it fantastic?” he asked as he nuzzled her neck, before planting a kiss on her pulse point.

“It certainly adds to the ambience… oh…” her voice hitched as he started kissing his way down her body.

9 years and 3 children on, they knew each other's bodies, knew what to do and where to touch to elicit a positive reaction.  She knew the exact way to draw her finger over his thighs and he knew the exact spot to run his tongue over and make her eyes roll back in bliss.

They knew when the other was too tired and just needed to be held and when they needed to be left alone or when they needed to be drawn close and made to forget the world outside each other.

“Is it only the ambience?” Matthijs’ hand drifts lower and hovers close enough for her to feel its heat but doesn’t make contact with her skin.  Rebecca knows he’s teasing her, drawing it out… knows what he wants to hear.  She could continue to play the game but she’s too aroused.  From the pitch and timbre of his voice, she knows he is too.

“You are certainly a critical part of the fantastic sex…” she concedes as he continues to kiss his way further and further south.

Returning to the dreary London winter was a shock to all of them and within 24 hours of arriving all three of the children were sick.

It was nothing worse than a common cold.  It was a fact of life with children, they got sick and weren’t very particular with whom they shared their germs and various bodily fluids with.  All three of their children appeared to become clingier the worse they felt

That was how Rebecca ended up awake just after midnight, a whimpering Jelka on her chest, refusing to be put down and a sniffling Romejin sleeping with his head in her lap while Bastiaan slept wrapped around Matthijs’ legs.

Parenthood was not glamorous, and anyone who said otherwise was delusional or lying.

Jelka let go long enough to sneeze, shooting snot and mucus down Rebecca’s chest before latching on again, not even drinking anymore, just suckling for comfort.

“Urgh…” she cringed, and accepted the wet wipe Matthijs held out.

She’d get up to wash them both down but that would wake up both Romeijn and Jelka and it just wasn’t worth it.  A wet wipe would do for now.

The three children settled into life in London better than Rebecca and Matthijs expected. 

Romeijn is enjoying school, he’s made friends and Rebecca and Matthijs are encouraging him to pick a sport to play.  He doesn’t seem overly interested in any of the team sports they offer but he agrees to at least try so they decide to start with cricket and go from there.

Matthijs is a little bit scandalised when Rebecca suggests it but her argument about their lives already being soaked in football and it would be good for him to be exposed to other sports wins him over.

Bastiaan tells his parents he loves going to nursery but refuses to speak anything but Dutch while there, despite being able to speak English perfectly well.

“Just refuse to answer him” Rebecca shrugs at the teacher when she asks her about the language issue.  “He’s a stubborn little shit but when he realises you won’t play along he’ll come around.”

“Hallo mama, we hebben vandaag op de glijbaan gespeeld en puzzels gemaakt” (Hi Mama, we played on the slide and did puzzles today) Bastiaan ran up to her with a big smile on his face.  Smirking at the teacher, Rebecca ignores Bastiaan even as he tugs on her skirt to get her attention.

“Other than that, how’s he behaving?” Rebecca continues the conversation, hoping to demonstrate how to deal with her second son when he was being stubborn.

“Mama, luister je naar mij?” (Mama, are you listening to me?)

Both she and Matthijs had been very clear with the boys that they needed to speak english outside of home and it was ok if they got mixed up or couldn’t remember the right word for something.  Bastiaan was being his stubborn little self… all four of their parents laughed uncontrollably with every story they told.  Apparently Matthijs’ impulsiveness combined with Rebecca’s stubbornness gave them Bastiaan.  Even with all of that, Rebecca suspected there was something deeper which she was planning on dealing with today.

It didn’t mean she would let up on him over this.

He was still tugging on her skirt and Bastiaan knew exactly what his mother was waiting for.  He’d never managed to outstubborn her and she wasn’t going to let him start now.

Eventually the 4 year old gives up.

“Listen to Bastiaan Mama!” he finally demands in English as he stomps his little foot.

“Oh, so you do remember mama’s rules about being polite and not using words other people can’t understand in front of them?” She raises an eyebrow.

And, oh she’s seen that glare on her partner's face many times before and she needs to hold back a chuckle, instead levelling her own unimpressed look.

It was quite impressive how long he managed to hold his own before crumbling.

“Yes mama…” he sighed pitifully.

“Now, say goodbye to Miss Lucy.” 

“Dag mevrouw Lucy” he makes one last attempt to win the battle of wills.

“Ah hem…” Rebecca coughed and raised an unhappy eyebrow causing Bastiaan to heave out another sigh.

“Bye bye Miss Lucy…” he hung his head and waved with one hand while the other was taken in his mothers.

Rebecca can swear she hears the staff giggling as the doors close behind them.  When she gets out to the car, Jelka is still fast asleep with the driver keeping an eye on her and she quickly gets a still pouting Bastiaan into his booster seat.  

Once they are moving, she knows he can’t get away from this, she looks at her son.

“Why won’t you speak English at school?” she asks gently, they hadn’t been pushing him too much hoping it was just a hiccough but it had been weeks and they knew something deeper was happening.

He doesn’t respond verbally, just shrugs and won’t look at her.  Reaching out, she runs a gentle hand through his curly blond hair.  There has been so much change in the last 6 months and she thinks she knows what the real issue is.

“Bastiaan, mama zal het begrijpen... mis je Hoogerheide?” (Bastiaan, mummy will understand... Do you miss Hoogerheide?)

Seconds pass before tears pool in his blue eyes and he nods while biting his lip.

“Ik mis oma en opa en onze tuin is anders en het is hier lawaaiig” (I miss oma and opa and our garden is different and it's noisy here) .  So many big things and so much change for a four year old to get used to.

“Do you know something…” Rebecca switches back to English and really wishes she could pull him into her lap.  “I miss your oma and opa as well, and I miss all the flowers we planted together in our old garden but the noise doesn’t really bother me…”

She pauses and lets him take in her words before continuing.

“How about mama and Bastiaan start a new garden together, we’ll drop Jelka home with papa and go buy some seeds and some pots and make a garden just for us.  Then tonight, we’ll call oma and opa and ask them to read to you…”

Rebecca didn’t tell him Joris and Roosje were coming for a visit that weekend.

They wanted it to be a surprise.

It’s still a little too early and a little too cold for planting the bulbs they pick together that night, but Rebecca picks up two little planter boxes that they can put into the conservatory for now.

Bastiaan only occasionally drops into Dutch at school after that.

END CHAPTER 8

Chapter Text

February 2019

The first match they attend of the new year is an away match against Crystal Palace and astonishingly the Greyhounds manage to draw it nil-nil.

From the visiting owners' seats Rebecca and Matthijs cheered at the appropriate times and spoke politely with Palace’s owners and the various VIP’s loitering around.

“Fucking self important windbags…” Rebecca muttered as they finally made their escape and slid into the back of the Jag she’d insisted on taking.

They’d talked many times about when to bring the children to their first Premier League match, whether it should be a home or away match.  Eventually Rebecca had shrugged in resignation.

“We can’t keep them hidden forever and I’d prefer we take them to the Dog Track over another stadium.”

The first weekend of March, just a few days before Jelka’s first birthday, saw the 5 of them making their way through the hallways of Nelson road.

As always Romeijn walked calmly by his mothers side, Bastiaan was now much better about not taking off to see whatever caught his attention walking on Rebecca’s other side, his little hand firmly gripped in hers as Jelka took it all in from the safety of her fathers arms.

Once they reach the owners suite, they settle in with the boys between them and Jelka demands to go to her mother just after the first whistle blows.

“Mama…!”

As always, Romeijn watches with vague interest and Bastiaan is practically vibrating in excitement at being at a live match.  Come next season, Rebecca suspects if given the option Romejin will stay home and Bastiaan will insist on attending.  She can even foresee tantrums in her future when she refuses to take him to away matches that could impact school.

The first photo to be posted to social media shows Bastiaan excitedly pointing at something on the pitch while Rebecca and Jelka listen intently.

That particular user is kind enough to blur the children’s faces out.

Others aren’t but there is very little she can do about it.

Rebecca and Matthijs refuse to comment or answer questions about the children and let people speculate as much or as little as they want.  There’s no mistaking that she is their mother and they’re just relieved no one is following them around, although Rebecca suspects it’s only a matter of time before the gossip rags get going and she has her solicitors ready to intervene if necessary.

Meanwhile, Matthijs was completing the conversion of his military pilot’s license into a private pilots license and had been studying for his instructor's qualifications while waiting for the credit report from the RNLAF.  He knew he had more than enough flight hours to get his EASA qualifications, it was mainly a matter of passing the appropriate theory and practical exams.

Other than attending the occasional match, Rebecca was staying away from the club on purpose.

“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.”

It would be 10 years in October since Rupert had died and while she hadn’t gone out of her way to harm the club, she certainly hadn’t done anything to help it either.

But that was all going to change.

She’d inherited 55% of the club from Rupert and had been quietly buying up additional shares for years and now owned 80% of it, her parents owned 5% and the Milk sisters along with a handful of others had the last 15.  She was hoping they would all jump ship when the team was relegated and she or her parents would be able to buy out said 15% leaving the Welton’s wholly and solely in control of AFC Richmond.

No one would stop her from renaming the training centre then, amongst other changes.

“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.”

She’d done nothing for quite a while.  Over a year in fact, it wasn’t until they’d attended the boxing day match just before she fell pregnant with Romejin that Rebecca had truly decided the path she was going to take.

On the whole, she and Matthijs lived a low key lifestyle, the trip to the Caribbean had been their biggest holiday to date and she hadn’t bought any more property after exchanging on the house in Petersham.  Her income far outstripped her outgoings and she’d reinvested a lot of that money and started putting vast amounts away with the idea of putting it into the club.  Building a club she would be proud to hand over to her children.

It was why she’d continued to stay away and let the club fail.  It wasn’t out of some desire for vengeance against a man who had done her a favour by dying 10 years before.

It was out of a desire to build something better for her children and knowing it all needed to come crashing down first.

While the Greyhounds did manage to win against Bournemouth and Huddersfield Town, it wasn’t enough to pull them out of 3rd last and therefore relegation.  In fact, the two clubs were relegated along with them.

They were out of the premier league and now the real work began.

Glancing out the office window at the training pitch and then at her watch Rebecca turned to Matthijs.

“Take them down to the pitch.  Training doesn’t start until 10 so once the players come out you can either sit in the stands and watch or come back up here, hopefully I’ll be done by then.”

“The boys’ll probably enjoy watching for a little while.  I’ll keep them down there until you come and find us.” Matthijs hoists Jelka up into his arms and herds the boys out the door.

With a giggling Jelka in his arms, he gently kicks the ball back and forth with his boys.  

It was moments like these that made Rebecca’s offer of being a kept man so appealing, but they both knew it wouldn’t last.  He would miss flying too much, but giving private flying lessons and the occasional chartered tourist flight would scratch the itch enough and allow him more time with his family than working full time as a commercial pilot.  They’d discussed getting a part time nanny but it didn’t seem necessary just yet and had tabled the subject until December.

So caught up in the moment, he didn’t hear the yelling from across the pitch straight away.

“GET OFF THE PITCH!...”

Eventually he turned towards the voice to find a man in a Richmond uniform running towards him waving his arms frantically.

Unsure of exactly how to react, Matthijs quickly guided the boys to the sidelines as the man got closer, yelling the entire time.

“YOU CAN’T BE ON THE PITCH…”

The man is breathless when he finally makes it over to them, unsure of this person who is yelling at them, both the boys hide behind Matthijs’ legs with Bastiaan peering around curiously.

“Sorry, sorry…” Matthijs apologised “Rebecca said it would be ok until the players got here.” he tried to reassure the staff member.

“Rebecca? As in Rebecca Welton?  Ms Welton, who owns the club?  Said you could bring your children out onto the pitch…?” The disbelief in the strangers voice was clear.

“Well, technically they’re our children” Matthijs shrugs “Hers and mine…”

“Oh god… shit, I’m sorry, take the whole pitch, as much as you want…” the younger man tried to backpedal maniacally once he realised who he had been screaming at “I can tell the team to wait until you’re done…”

“Hey…” Matthijs interrupts the rambling “We’re just burning off a little bit of energy.  We don’t need the whole thing and I’ll take them to sit in the stands once training starts.  I’m Matthijs…” he shifted Jelka slightly in his arms and held out his hand.

The young man stared at it baffled long enough for Matthijs to get concerned.  “And your name is?” he pushed.

“Oh… Nathan, Nathan Shelley, I’m the kit man.” The offered hand is finally taken in his sweaty one.

“Nice to meet you, this is Jelka… say hello to Nathan…” he jiggles the 15 month old gently.

“Hoi…” little fingers waggle.

“...and this is Romejin and Bastiaan” he points out each of the boys in turn.  “Jongen, dit is Nathan (Boy's, this is Nathan)."

Once the boys have shown the manners Matthijs knows they have but don’t always remember he addresses them directly “Now, Nathan works for mama, that means if he says you can’t be somewhere you need to leave immediately and find me or mama.” he turns to Nathan “If they don’t listen let us know straight away we’re not planning on letting them run around the club by themselves but you never know.  They’re good boys but…” he shrugged “the very young do not always do what they are told.”

Nathan nods, still unsure of how to react around this man who is apparently with Ms Welton.  Although, now he thought about it, Nathan does remember seeing their picture in the Sun.

The next few minutes are a painful attempt at small talk as Matthijs tries to get to know the kit man who appears to be terrified of saying the wrong thing.

Eventually he starts speaking a bit more freely, when Jelka distracts him just enough simply by being a cute and curious toddler.

“…and with the rumours I heard about Ms Welton…” he catches himself as Matthijs’ face darkens.

“What rumours?” He presses.

“I… they…” Nathan stutters for a moment “I personally don’t believe them…” he finally spits out.

“What rumours?” Matthijs asks again, his voice going hard in what Rebecca called his Lieutenant Colonel voice.  Very few people disobey that voice… except Rebecca and he only ever did it once.  She laughed in his face and threatened to kick him in the bollocks if he ever tried it again and made sure he understood that if he ever treated the children like his cadets a kick in the bollocks would be the least of his worries.

Nathan takes a deep breath and knows he’s not going to get out of this “the main one is, Ms Welton was cheating on Mr Mannion with you and the night he died was set up by her so she would be free to be with her lover… which again was apparently you.” He cringes and takes a step back and is completely baffled when Matthijs bursts into laughter.

It’s one of the most absurd things he’s ever heard and he hopes Rebecca gets as much of a laugh out of it as he does.

“Let me assure you, we didn’t meet until 6 months after he died and the day we met, I’d just finished an 18 month deployment to a war zone.  The first time we were even in the same country at the same time was when we met in Monaco… and before you ask, Romejin is our oldest and he’ll be 7 in October.”

Nathan quickly does the maths in his head and is a lot relieved that the rumours were wrong and Matthijs took hearing about them so well but given the uncomfortable turn the conversation has taken, he excuses himself to finish setting up for the team.

An hour later, Matthijs is sitting in the stands, Bastiaan is watching training wide eyed, while Romejin reads a book and Jelka dozed in his lap when Rebecca joins them.

He can see the ripple of unease go through the team at the owner's appearance but they relax quickly when it becomes clear she’s not planning on interfering.

Lifting Bastiaan up, she sits down next to Matthijs with the little boy in her lap.

“It’s done, we’re locked in now…”

“No going back…” he agreed and reached out to take her hand and squeeze it tightly.

An hour earlier, in the office, Rebecca had sat herself behind the desk before Cyril even deigned to arrive for the day so when he did finally turn up he was immediately placed on the backfoot by the sight of the club owner sitting behind his desk, waiting for him.  In one of the seats was the club's head of human resources, she waved a careless hand at the other.

“Good morning Cyril, take a seat.” Her smile could be construed as pleasant, but there was a dangerous spark behind it.

“Rebecca…” his mouth dropped open.  “I didn’t know you were coming in today?” he dropped into the seat bonelessly.  Rebecca hadn’t stepped foot in the owners office since taking over nearly 10 years before.  She’d barely been to the club, only attending a handful of matches.

“Hmmm…” She smiled again, this time it was all teeth and much more dangerous.  “You can’t be that fucking surprised that I’m here as when we spoke in December you reassured me that everything was under control, that my team wasn’t in true danger of relegation.  Either you were lying to me or you hadn’t grasped the severity of the situation.  Which was it?”

Cyril’s mouth opened and closed a few times but no sound came out as he attempted to come up with an acceptable excuse.

None came…

“Well?” she pushed.

After another five seconds of silence, Rebecca decided she wasn’t going to get an answer of any kind, let alone an acceptable one.  Admittedly, the outcome had been decided before any of them stepped into the room.

“Well, as owner, I’ll be enacting the clause in your contract that allows me to terminate you… immediately.”

“But…” he attempts a rejoinder but fails miserably and wilts under her glare.  He was never a strong or brave man.

“You have half an hour to collect any of your personal belongings.  Elizabeth is here to make sure you don’t take anything you shouldn’t.  If any items are left behind, I’ll have them couriered to you.  Now do fuck off you useless twat.”  Placing her glasses back on, Rebecca turns to her laptop.  Somehow this final dismissal was more embarrassing than his firing.

Once she had escorted Cyril out to his car, Elizabeth returned to Rebecca’s office and sat back down in the chair and studied the club owner for a long moment.

“So… what’s next?”

The firing of Cyril Rutherford did not cause the waves through the club Rebecca expected.

In fact, the look of relief she caught on many of the staff’s faces was quite concerning.  Something to dig into later.

The day after, she started redecorating the office.  The kitschy and gauche artwork was removed along with the ugly and unwieldy desk.  She had a small divider put in to create a play area for the children and a comfortable corner lounge added as well as all the colours softened.  It’s her mother that has the tree coat rack delivered.  Where on earth Deborah found it, Rebecca has no idea.

The first full day she spends at Nelson road, Jelka came along as well.  Romeijn was in school and Bastiaan in nursery until the end of July, after that the boys would be splitting their time between Matthijs and the club until Romeijn went into year 2 and Bastiaan started Reception.

The morning had been quiet, Jelka happily playing while Rebecca worked and continued to get herself up to speed on the day to day business that was a football club.  

As the start of the season grew closer, Rebecca could see just how endemic the problems at Richmond were.

Cartrick ran roughshod over the entire staff, seeming to be of the opinion that as the Manager he could do whatever he wanted and Rebecca was looking forward to the day she corrected that assumption.

She had already had a number of very private conversations with both HR and legal on how she could get rid of him without buying out his contract, it would cost money the club didn’t have and she didn’t want to put it up herself.  There were a few clauses she knew he had breached, but without proof she couldn’t yet do anything.

Little did she know that the first nail in the coffin would come that very afternoon.

Rebecca put out some lunch for Jelka to munch on at 12, knowing the toddler would graze on it for a while.  Sitting on the couch Rebecca ate her own lunch and enjoyed the toddler chatter, answering whatever questions Jelka came up with, with her limited vocabulary the most common one was “what?” followed by a tiny finger pointing at something.  It still blew her away how different each of her children were.  At this age Romejin had been a shy little boy, always hiding in her arms whereas Bastiaan was boisterous and outgoing, wanting to meet and chatter to anyone and everyone they came across.  Jelka seemed to fall partway in between.  She didn’t shy away from people, nor did she approach them with the lack of caution Bastiaan did.

Which was a genuine relief, not having to worry about this toddler wandering up to a stranger.

Once she’d had enough, Jelka used Rebecca’s legs to haul herself up onto her mother’s lap and started to push at her shirt.

Unbuttoning her blouse and unhooking the maternity bra, Rebecca got them both comfortable and Jelka happily suckling away tapping a rhythm only she knew lightly against Rebecca’s sternum.  

Jelka’s eyelids were starting to do the long, slow slide closed as a precursor to her afternoon nap when the office door slammed open and George Cartrick entered without knocking or being invited.

“While I appreciate the sight of that impressive chest, that’s not really appropriate to do in public.” he sneered at them.

In her arms Jelka stiffened then curled closer into Rebecca.  Up until now people like George Cartrick weren’t inside their families orbit and the toddler had never heard someone speaking to her mother that way.

“I’m absolutely positive I didn’t just hear you attempt to tell me where I can and cannot feed my child?” She kept her voice pleasant and one hand running up and down Jelka’s back soothingly.

She’d been scrolling through emails, and suspecting that this conversation was going to be a doozy, Rebecca pulled up the camera and flicked it over to video and hit record.

George didn’t even notice when she turned it towards him.

She couldn’t wait until she could fire him, but first she needed to find a replacement.  She wanted someone new, fresh and unexpected.

It would happen eventually, Rebecca was positive that sometime in the near future the right person would cross her path, she just needed to wait and watch.

In the meantime, she would have to settle for putting the misogynist in his place.

“I also don’t see how it’s any of your fucking business…” her glare remains in place even as she keeps her voice soft and gentle, not wanting to upset Jelka.  “I’ve fed all three of my children in all sorts of places.” Something in the back of George’s mind is trying to tell him he’s in danger “the privacy of my home, restaurants, the beach, parks, friends homes even at football matches with thousands of fans in the crowd and you’re trying to tell me that in the privacy of my office that you barged into without knocking or permission to enter that it’s a problem?” she cocked her head to the side and waited.

It really was quite amusing to watch him attempt to form a response to her, she was less amused when he began to lash out.  

“Look love, I’ve got to get back to training.  I’m just here to let you know to pass on the Nigerian lad, Obi something… he’s not worth it.  Also to let McCraken, Cockburn and Canterbury go.  They’re a drag on the team.”

“Firstly, don’t call me love.” she fires back “Secondly, I’ll be meeting with each player privately to understand their preferences before making any decisions on the makeup of the team.  Now if there is nothing else, see yourself out please.”

Rebecca is somewhat worried about George’s blood pressure, if the shade of red his face turns is any indication.

“I don’t know who you think you are…” George finally sputters out.

“I’m the owner of this club and the woman who holds your future in her hands.  Don’t think I didn’t notice just what the players you recommend we let go have in common.”  She deliberately uses her feminine pronouns to bait him, fortunately or unfortunately he doesn’t take that particular bait, instead he huffs and storms out of the room.

Hitting the stop button, Rebecca saves the video to her cloud account and looks down at Jelka who is staring back up at her, tears in her blue eyes.

Matthijs’ eyes and it broke Rebecca’s heart to see the fear in them and a brief flash of regret hits her.  Should they have stayed in the Netherlands?

“I’m sorry my girl…” Rebecca leans over to press a kiss to her daughter's forehead.  “I know, he was angry and rude and I’ll try not to let you see him again.”

As June passed Rebecca managed to wrap her head around the intricate business that was a premier (championship) league club.

There were a lot of moving parts and one of the people who had been a font of useful knowledge was the clubs communications director Leslie Higgins.

A nervous, twitchy man that took his sweet time finding his voice around her.  For the first little while he stuttered his way through their meetings interspersed with the occasional choking sounds.

“Oh for god's sake Higgins, spit it out!” she finally snapped one day when they were discussing the advertising budget and the man promptly choked again.

She’d been trying to get to the bottom of his nervousness around her but hadn’t had much luck.  She and Matthijs had discussed, and laughed, about it at length and suspected it had to do with the rumours the kit man who Matthijs befriended, had mentioned.

Rebecca suspected she knew the source of the rumours.

Rupert’s brother Randolph had never liked her and had kicked up hell when he learned the terms of Rupert’s will.

He had not been happy to find out Rebecca was the sole beneficiary of his brother's estate and had made half hearted attempts over the years to have it overturned but none of the solicitors he’d engaged had taken him seriously.

It didn’t help that when she had sold off everything the flood of shares had crashed the value of his own holdings which had infuriated him even more.  Unlike her, he still hadn’t made up his losses and was haemorrhaging money.

In a broad sense, Rebecca didn’t give two shits about Randolph Mannion.  He was her arsehole former brother in law but it seemed he had taken exception to her return to London and was bad mouthing her to anyone who’ll listen.

Even the papers were starting to pick up on what he was saying.

Unnamed Sources state…

Richmond rages at relegation…

Welton whines at worrisome week…

She hated unnamed sources, she really wished they would have the fucking guts to either put their names to the quotes or say it to her face.

Matthijs had started hiding the sports section of their morning paper from her, but it didn’t stop her from checking the online rags.

It also appeared as though Leslie Higgins didn’t know what to believe either.  Was she the bitter, vengeful shrew being reported in the press, still angry a decade later or the woman he was slowly getting to know.  The woman who listened to him intently and took his opinions seriously, who had an open door policy for all the staff and players.  Who had quickly learned the names of every staff member at Nelson road, knew their roles and was starting to get to know them and if Leslie didn’t miss his guess was quietly filing away the personal information she was picking up.

All the while, he suspected, she was pretending to be above it all.

But he’d seen quiet moments that others hadn’t necessarily seen and they made him think.

Her door had been cracked open one afternoon and he had heard Rebecca speaking softly to someone, peering through he could see her stretched out on the sofa, toddler in her arms fighting sleep.  He’d seen her in the carpark, leaving for the night and sliding into the front seat of the land rover being driven by her partner… husband…? partner… and he’d heard the joyful greetings from the two boys sitting in the back and the happy chatter back and forth between mother and children.

It was quite the conundrum, watching her eviscerate business people in one breath and comfort her child in another.

“Higgins… Higgins… Higgins…?” Her voice finally broke through his musings late one afternoon as they discussed the roster amongst other sundry things.

“Beg pardon…” he choked slightly as he was startled out of his musings.

Rebecca huffed in frustration.  It was times like this she missed her quiet little home office that she worked independently from and she mostly interacted with others via email.

“I said, you seem to know a little bit about everything to do with the club and the sport.  Don’t think I haven’t noticed that you’re the first to get any speculation about player movements.  Then I asked if there was any up and coming player in the world that the premier league is watching to sign when they age out of under 21’s or under 23’s and could we get them first?”

Not answering straight away, Higgins rolled the question around his head.  It was a smart move, they lost most of their older heavy hitters and wouldn’t be able to sign anyone who could get a better premier league deal but maybe they could get some young talent who were hungry to prove themselves and would fight to get them promoted.

He started to flick through player names in his head, there were a couple of 18 and 19 year olds that were being watched carefully by the scouts and one in particular stood out.

“Diederick Ketter…” he finally said “incredibly talented 18 year old box to box midfielder, he’s been playing under 21’s for PSV Eindhoven and rumour has it everyone here is watching to see how he goes over the next year or so before approaching him.  If he proves himself this season there’ll be a massive bidding war.  Although from what I’ve heard he’s unwilling to even meet with anyone outside of the Netherlands right now.  There’s also a few defenders in Australia and a striker from Scotland I would look at.”

He watched as a thoughtful look crossed Rebecca’s face, along with something he’d started to privately call her sneaky face.  Then she picked up her phone and typed out what he assumes is a text message and before putting it back down.

“And the Nigerian boy Cartrick told me wasn’t worth it?  What are your thoughts on him?” she reaches for her cup of tea and lifts it to take a sip, staring at him expectantly.

“Ahhh… Sam Obisanya, 20 years old, defender in the Nigerian league and to be honest more than anything I believe he needs the challenge and he will rise to meet the higher level of competition here.  There’s also Jamie Tartt, Mr Rutherford was speaking to Man City about getting him on a loan contract for the season.  Are we still interested?”

“Hmmm, sign Obisanya and get me the information on the Australian and Scottish players.  As for Tartt, let me think on it.  There are rumours about his attitude and I’m not sure I want that in my club.” She says after a moment's thought.

“You… ah… want to go against the manager's wishes…?” he asks hesitatingly, not wanting to bring Rebecca’s ire down on himself but feeling as though the question needed to be asked.  “Right, that’s a yes then…” Rebecca didn’t need to say a  word, merely had to stare him down ominously, the sheer idiocy of the question apparent and her unable to hide her incredulousness.

They meander through several other topics of club business, particularly around his area of communications over the next half an hour.

Just as he was about to leave Rebecca’s phone pings with an incoming text, she glances at it briefly and a broad smile crosses her face along with a glint of superiority in her eye.

“Tell legal to prepare a 2 year contract for Diederick Ketter.” She waves him out of the room as she picks up the phone and unlocks it to make a call and lifts the phone to her ear.  As he’s easing the door closed, she starts speaking.

“Hallo Katrijn, ik heb het weer in Erp gecheckt en het is daar beroerd. Ik zit nu in de zon als de lucky bitch die ik ben.”  (Hello Katrijn, I checked the weather in Erp and it's miserable down there.  I'm sitting in the sun right now like the lucky bitch I am.)

Two weeks later Leslie trailed behind Rebecca, Diederick and his parents as the owner showed the three of them around the club.

There was something suspicious going on and while he couldn’t prove anything he had a strong suspicion Rebecca already knew the Ketter’s.  Despite the four of them speaking Dutch the entire time he could see something in their body language.

Late that afternoon when the two of them are alone in her office he eyes her carefully and wonders if asking is a good idea or not but pushes forward anyway.

“Ah… Ms Welton…” he starts before choking slightly and digging deep for a little bit of courage “I was wondering… the Ketter’s?” he stops at her smirk and instantly knows he was right without her telling him.

“I thought you’d picked up on that” she waves at the other chair and they both sit down.

“Katrijn Ketter served in the RNLAF with Matthijs.  She and Pim looked after Romejin and Bastiaan for us all the time when we lived in Erp… I knew the first time I saw Diederick kicking a football he had something special.  All of 9 and I could see the talent oozing out of him, it was astounding.” 

Leslie didn’t speak but waited as a soft smile crossed Rebecca’s face and he assumed she got lost in her memories for a moment.  He’s not sure if she realises she’s accidentally confirmed something for him that many people had been wondering about.

Leslie tucked away the fact that she had lived in the Netherlands and both of her boys had been born there.  No one else needed to know.

“Diederick and I would prefer it if our prior relationship did not become public knowledge.” Rebecca levels a severe gaze at him.

“Of course,” he agrees.

END CHAPTER 9

Chapter Text

July 2019

The summer passed quickly, and as the new season approached Rebecca found herself more and more anxious about getting rid of Cartrick.  She wanted him out of her club and it was becoming more and more apparent that she may just need to fire him and buy out his contract.

She was loath to do that, so she decided to wait a little bit longer.  Christmas, she decided, if nothing happened by Christmas she would force him out.

On the plus side, all the other shareholders had actually sold off their stakes in the club when they had been relegated and Rebecca and her parents had gleefully purchased said shares leaving them in complete control of AFC Richmond.

Two weeks before the season was due to start, Rebecca quietly left the country and flew first into New York and then over to Wichita.  She doesn’t even remember how she came across the video.  Initially amused and a little bit incredulous at the dancing, then she became intrigued and started to dig and the further she dug the more she wondered.

It was only a fact finding trip, Rebecca swore to herself.  Nothing more than that.

Matthijs would be flying into New York with the children 48 hours later and which would hopefully cover the first part of the trip and leave everyone back in England none the wiser.

Ted and Beard sat in their office, going over the roster for the upcoming season.  The Wichita State Shockers had just won the whole thing and they wanted to make sure the momentum they had wouldn’t be lost.

All the players and support staff had left for the day, so it was quite a surprise when there was a firm knock on the door.

An even bigger surprise was the statuesque blonde that came through the door when he called out “come in”.

“I’m looking for Ted Lasso?” adding to the surprises was the clear english accent.

“Well you found him so come on in Hank Pym!” Ted grins and stands to greet the stranger.

“It’s Rebecca actually, Rebecca Welton.” She steps through the door and closes it behind her before holding her hand out for Ted to shake.

“Howdy Ms Welton, this here is Coach Beard and I’m Coach Lasso?  What can I do you for?”

“Oh, call me Rebecca, Ms. Welton's my father.” She loves the startled looks on their faces but pushes on “I’m hoping you can assist me with something, from what I understand at the beginning of your previous season you took over as team manager?”

“Yes ma’am.” he nods and gestures to the visitor's chair for her to sit down.

“And over the course of that season, under your leadership you won the entire fucking thing?  Correct?” She asks.

“Yes ma’am.” Ted glances at Beard who is attempting to discreetly type something into his phone.  Ted assumes he’s googling ‘Rebecca Welton’.

“Excellent!” She finally takes the chair with a broad smile.  “I’m not sure how much you know about association football, but I own a team based in London that admittedly I haven’t really been paying much attention to.  I was under the impression the man I appointed to run the club in my absence was doing an acceptable job, that is up until May when we were relegated from the premier league to the champions league.”

Ted is completely lost.  While he understands the individual words, as a sentence he is lost.  Luckily Beard jumps in.

“Association Football, known here as soccer.  The Premier league is the top of 5 levels of competition throughout Britain.  Relegation is demotion to the league below and very bad for a club.” 

“Precisely.” Rebecca snaps her fingers and points to Beard, pleased at least one of them understands her.

“Well, I’m not sure how I can help you cause you could fill two internets with what I don’t know about the sport y’all call football.” Ted huffs out a laugh.

“No Ted, I don’t need you to know about football.  What I’m hoping you can tell me is how the fuck you did it?  How you turned around what from all reports was a fucking dumpster fire of a team to champions?”

Ted’s eyes went wide at the casual swearing but accepted it as a genuine question.

“Well Boss, it’s like this… we had a good group of talented boys but there was no cohesion.  It was every man for himself out there.  I just needed to remind them that they were a team and they each had their part to play in order to make them all a success.”

Rebecca squinted at him, trying to work out if he was being purposefully vague or not.  A quick glance at Coach Beard didn’t give her any more information.

“No, it has to be more than that… I’m sure that was a wonderful starting point but a change that vast…?” She challenged him.

Out of the corner of her eyes she could see a faint smile of approval cross Coach Beard's face and knew she was on the right track.

Perhaps she could get them to open up a bit more with a more relaxed setting, it will be months before she can work out what prompted her to make the offer.  To work out why she trusted these two men so quickly and completely.  

“I’d really like to talk more about this. My family is holidaying in the Hamptons, would the two of you and your families be interested in joining us for a few days?  I’ll cover all the costs and there is plenty of room.”

The house they were staying at in Southampton was right on the beach, and the week they would be there was their last chance for a break before the season started, Romejin went back to school and Bastiaan started reception.

Not that she would admit it but Rebecca was still baffled by the fact that she had two school aged children.  They’d quietly talked about keeping Bastiaan in nursery for another year but he needed the challenge of full time school and if she was honest they were hoping to burn off more of the seemingly never ending energy the little boy had.

Or at least spread the suffering around.

She watched as the two men had an entirely silent conversation, well silent if you only consider verbalised words.

Ted Lasso has one of the most expressive faces she’s ever seen.

Coach Beard’s was less shouty but still quite verbose.

“Uhh, well let me talk to my wife but a couple of days on the beach sounds like an easy A.” he pauses momentarily “Our son Henry is 7, that won’t be an issue will it?”

“Not at all,” Rebecca reassures him “It’s actually quite providential, my oldest is 7 in October I’m sure the two boys will get along famously.”

Pulling a pen and paper out of her bag, Rebecca quickly scribbles her number and email address down and hands it over to Ted.

“Talk to your wives…” she smirks as Beard shakes his head and lifts his hand to make a slashing motion against his throat so she starts again, “Ted, talk to your wife and give me a call and I’ll make the arrangements.”

A part of her doesn’t expect to hear from them but sure enough 24 hours later an unfamiliar number is calling her and sure enough it’s Coach Lasso confirming the invite was legitimate and then she reassures both the Coach and his wife that there was room for their son and Coach Beard.

She flies back to New York, and as requested finds the house already set up and the kitchen fully stocked.

The next 24 hours are blissfully quiet and still for her.  She sleeps in, sets her phone on do not disturb so only Matthijs’ calls will get through and spends the day lying on the beach reading a book she’d been trying to finish for months.

So early the next morning when the SUV containing her family pulls up she’s relaxed and ecstatic to see them, throwing herself first into Matthijs’ arms before hugging the boys and lifting a grumpy Jelka out of her car seat.

The next 2 days are spent quietly, they spend most of the day on the beach and venture into the local town for lunch.

Their first night, once the children are asleep Rebecca and Matthijs sit out on the deck listening to the waves and talking quietly.

Like always, they meander from topic to topic able to talk to each other about anything and everything, eventually Matthijs guides them to a topic that had been on his mind for the last few months.

“Speaking of babies, are we finished having babies or do you want to try for a fourth?” he’s never really had to beat around the bush with her, there’s been the occasional time where he was a little more circumspect on how he brought something up but there was never anything he was afraid to speak with her about.  Even so, he doesn’t push any further, lets the question hang between them so she can answer in her own time.

“I’m worried I’m a little old for more babies” Rebecca eventually sighs and turns her head to face him.  “I like our babies, we make amazing babies but I also don’t want the pressure of trying to get pregnant…” She paused and took a moment to get her thoughts in order.

“So… more babies?  Maybe one more but only if it happens naturally, so we keep on doing what we’re doing and if I get pregnant again brilliant and if I don’t it’s not meant to be.” She held her hand out to him and he took it with a smile of his own.

Late on the Friday afternoon, Jelka is napping and the boys are playing quietly while Rebecca and Matthijs prepare everything for dinner when the Lasso’s and Coach Beard arrive that evening.

Rebecca really needed to find out what his first name was.

Dinner was nothing fancy, they just planned on barbecuing out by the pool and giving everyone a chance to get to know each other and relax.

“From what little I saw, he’s the opposite of Dutch.  He speaks in metaphor and some kind of bastardised version of rhyming slang which is strange and frustrating but he seems nice and friendly.  It was hard to get a read on his assistant coach and I didn’t meet the wife so no idea about her…” she filled him in as she chopped vegetables and he marinated the meat.

Their flight had landed an hour before and if Rebecca’s estimate was correct they should be arriving in the next 15 minutes.

Sure enough, just as she was getting Jelka up from her nap the sound of a car pulling in echoed around.

By the time she was coming back downstairs with a still grumbling Jelka in her arms, both the boys were at the open front door peering through it where she’d heard Matthijs tell them to wait.

She could see Bastiaan vibrating in excitement, as always Romejin was much more restrained.  Making her way to them, she opened the door wider and peered out in time to see Matthijs and Ted shaking hands while a little boy and a nervous looking blonde woman watched on.

Plastering a broad smile on her face, Rebecca pushed past the boys and made her way over trusting Romejin to keep Bastiaan inside.  It worked one out of three times, the other two they would be alerted by Romejin’s frustrated voice calling his brother's name leaving either her or Matthijs to chase after their middle child.

She still blamed Matthijs’ genes and therefore made it his responsibility to chase the four year old.

Sure enough as she was shaking Michelle Lasso’s hand Bastiaan made a break for it, deciding to try something other than physically chasing him down, Rebecca turned and bellowed across the yard.

“Oi! Kom terug met je achterste in huis!” (Oi!  Get your backside back in the house!)

It was quite comical seeing Bastiaan skid to a stop, eyes wide and shocked.  While he had heard her yelling before, it was the first time she’s raised her voice at him.  Raising her free arm, she points at the house and glares as Bastiaan’s shoulders drop and he turns to walk back to where his older brother is waiting.

Behind her Beard and Matthijs snorted in amusement.

“My apologies,” Rebecca turns back to them.

“It’s ok” Michelle tries to reassure her “He’s what?  Four or five?”

“Four and with absolutely no restraint or self preservation.” Matthijs confirms.

“That was Bastiaan, Romejin is 6 and did what he was told and waited at the door and this is Jelka.” Rebecca jiggled her daughter lightly, who only pressed her face into her mothers neck with a sleepy grumble.

It doesn’t take them long to get everyone and their luggage inside, Rebecca takes the four from Kansas upstairs to show them their rooms.

“We weren’t sure if Henry would prefer to bunk in with Romejin, by himself or with you.” She opens the door to the room they had prepared for the Lasso’s.  Michelle eyed the door the two boys had already gone through and were already chattering away over a lego set.  Taking the hint, Rebecca cocked her head towards it and led Michelle over to look into the bright and airy room that contained a set of bunk beds and their sons sitting in the middle of the floor oblivious to their mothers.

“Hey Hen?” Michelle called and waited for the 7 year old to look up at her “Do you want to sleep in here with Romejin?”  They didn’t need the boy’s response of a broad smile was enough.

Leaving them to it, Rebecca continues to show them around upstairs before giving them time to unpack and freshen up.  Before going back downstairs she sticks her head back into Romejin’s room.

“Boys, we’re putting out nibblies for afternoon tea, come down stairs when you’re ready.  Henry, make sure your parents know where you are.”

It doesn’t take long for everyone to make their way back downstairs and Matthijs hands out drinks.

The conversation is slightly awkward at first but eventually Ted’s innate friendliness and Matthijs’ ability to chat with anyone take over and it starts flowing easily.

Rebecca decides not to push Ted and Beard for any information about their coaching method and style until the next day.

Instead she and Michelle chat about their personal educational experiences and the differences between attending university in the UK and college in America and then segue somehow into the challenges of raising little boys.

Neither of them are surprised about the stories the other tells.

“I’m kinda grateful I ended up with the lego and comics boy…” Michelle mused at one point.

“Yes, I got one of those and then to counter him I got the other brand as well… the kind who headbuts goats…” Rebecca snorted and then showed Michelle the picture of the bruise from when Bastiaan had done just that.

Eventually they all drift out onto the patio and Matthijs reassures them the property is well fenced off and the children can’t get out and down to the beach by themselves.

‘Bastiaan proof’ was the exact phrase he’d used, and they’d checked, watching closely as the four year old tried every trick he could think of to get out of the garden and it gave them immense insight into their son’s thought processes.

Leaving Matthijs to cook and watch Jelka, Rebecca joins the boys kicking a ball around.

At one point when she glances up to the patio she sees Beard sitting on the ground next to her little daughter having what appears to be a very serious conversation while Matthijs, Ted and Michelle speak by the barbeque.

Minutes later she doesn’t see Ted shake his head in surprise “Appearances can be deceiving…” he murmurs.

Following his gaze Matthijs smirks “Let me guess, she blew into your office in a power suit that probably cost more than you make in a month so seeing her running around with the children is a little unexpected.  Especially given your first conversation left you with the impression that she is loud, brash, demanding and probably a bit prissy?”

It was highly amusing to see Ted blush in embarrassment and Michelle giggle.  That was the exact impression Ted had gotten and passed on to his wife.

“Rebecca enjoys defying expectations and she doesn’t let many people cross the personal and professional barrier.  Not many people in her professional life are allowed this close to our home life and to the children…” Matthijs really hopes they understand what he is trying to say.

“And we qualify as professional?” Michelle raised an eyebrow while keeping one eye on her son.

“Yes” Matthijs didn’t hesitate to answer “She came to speak about the club, that’s professional and the only reason she’s comfortable enough to let you this close is you have no connections with the Premier League.  Don’t misunderstand, the children have attended matches, been to the club and met staff and players but she doesn’t let them into our home life quickly or easily.”

By the time dinner is ready everyone seems to have relaxed and the conversations flow naturally.

Matthijs talks about his time in the air force and love of flying, Ted shares stories about his coaching career and while Beard contributes colour commentary he doesn’t offer anything personal.

As the sun starts to set just before 8pm, Matthijs and Michelle herd the boys upstairs to get ready for bed.  Jelka is fighting sleep in Rebecca’s arms so she is grateful when Ted and Beard take the initiative to start washing up.  Hoping the movement will help settle her daughter, Rebecca steadily walks back and forth between the kitchen and patio, taking a dish or two inside with every trip.

It works and Jelka’s body slumps further and further into her shoulder, laying her down in the playpen, Rebecca finally has both hands free to finish clearing up.

The next morning she startles awake at the sound of the back door slamming and Romejin’s voice echoing up the stairs.

“Mama, Bastiaan probeert een fietshelling te bouwen!” (Mummy, Bastiaan’s trying to build a bike ramp!”)

She hears the door open again and another voice reassures her enough that she’s not bolting down the stairs.

“No need to panic Boss, there’s full adult supervision.” If she was a little more awake, Rebecca would try and work out where Ted got the inspiration to call her boss.  Maybe she’d ask him later today.

Later in the morning, Matthijs and Michelle take the four children out to the beach, leaving her to speak with Ted and Beard without interruption.

“I’m assuming you’ve done a satisfactory amount of research on me and the Greyhounds?” She sat down with her tea.  It is Beard who answers her question.

“Rebecca Welton, became the majority shareholder when you inherited your late husband's estate.  Said husband died quite the scandalous death and you disappeared to parts unknown.  Every now and then you and Matthijs would appear for a match, sometimes with years between appearances.  No one can confirm exactly where you were living or what you were doing during that time but at the beginning of the year you moved back to London with Matthijs and 3 children in tow… Considering Matthijs is Dutch and you and the children are all fluent in Dutch I could make a strong argument for you spending most of the last decade in the Netherlands.”

Raising her cup in a mock toast, Rebecca smiles at the mysterious man.

“Not bad at all.  I’ve done my own research on the two of you and spoken to various people and do you know what they said?  You’re unorthodox, you don’t just see the team as the athletes taking the field but the team is everyone from players to support staff to the fans and everyone in between and none of them are willing to speak a bad word about you…” Rebecca sighed, she’d been waffling back and forth on how much to tell them, how much to admit.  Something deep inside her knew she could trust these two men.  Trust them with her children, her club and most of all some of her secrets so she pushed on and hoped this wouldn’t come back to bite her.

“10 years ago when I fled London after Rupert's death I wanted to destroy his legacy.  I sold off everything but the club and the plan was to neglect Richmond until it failed and then dismantle and sell it off.” She watched Ted blink in surprise but interestingly Beard simply nodded as though he’d already had his suspicions.  She made a mental note to try and discuss it with him privately.

“I was more than angry, I felt betrayed by Rupert and the hatred that I had for him…” still to this day she can’t even put it into words but they both nod in understanding, as though they understand precisely what she is unable to explain.  “It took time but I started to heal, and I met Matthijs… finding a partner who loved me for more than just my body, who I can talk to about anything and everything.  He encouraged me to finish my masters and find work that was fulfilling and made me happy.  Neither of us are perfect, we fight and both have good days and bad days but we’ve muddled through the last 9 years and now most days I barely even remember I was once married to Rupert Mannion.  Instead of destroying something I want to build it.  I want to be able to leave a club and community to my children that they will be proud to be a part of.”

Ted had not been sure what to expect when Rebecca invited them to New York for the weekend.  As Matthijs had pointed out the previous evening, her professional persona was incredibly different to the person she was in private.  Watching her play with the boys, not even hesitating to include Henry, had been an unexpected insight and her confession even more so.

This was a woman who was proud and confident and not afraid of her own power.

“Here’s the thing…” Ted takes a breath “You can provide all the training in the world, have the most talented athletes in the world but it don’t mean a thing if they don’t have support and belief.  Every single young man on our team needed something different from us, it took a bit of time but once I worked out what that was and how to instill the belief in the team and each other.  Well once we did that the sky’s the limit and I’m guessing your team is exactly the same.  Once they believe in themselves and each other, once they get the individual support they need so they can then begin to support each other… well the jobs half done because that support and belief will flow out onto the field and you get a team full of incredible individuals who can work as a unit.”

There was something so incredibly earnest about Ted Lasso and yet she could see a darkness in him, hidden deeply beneath the happy go lucky persona.  Rebecca couldn’t name it, nor did she believe it was dangerous to her and her family, but it was there and she felt as though understood it.

It was a darkness she had lived with since she was 15 and discovered her fathers infidelities, a darkness that had tainted her every relationship until she forced it into the light, first by speaking of it with Matthijs and Joris and then by finally confronting her father.

She wondered where Ted’s darkness came from.

“It’s about the individual,” she murmured in understanding, “making sure each person is the best version of themselves so they can contribute to the whole…”

Rebecca stared at him thoughtfully.  Everything he was saying made sense and she could appreciate Ted’s people first mentality.  She was trying but as the owner and after being absent for so long there was an invisible wall between herself and the rest of the club she was struggling to break through.

Rebecca was also well aware that the talent was already inside the club, she had someone who would make a brilliant manager but Roy wasn’t ready yet.  He wasn’t ready to give up his boots and he needed someone to mentor him through the transition from captain.

In that moment she makes a decision that changes the trajectory of her life and the future of the team in ways that will take years to truly understand.  Walking over to her bag she pulls out the same notebook and pen from earlier in the week and quickly scrawls the salary she’d be willing to pay them.

“My current manager won’t be in that position for long.  I’m working on forcing him out of the club and I have in mind someone to take over eventually but he’s not ready yet” she finally admitted.  “I think you’re the one who can get him over the line, he’s a brilliant tactician but needs to learn how to balance that with long term strategy and manage the players as humans and not just athletes.  So how would the two of you feel about coming to England to manage my football team for say, 3 years?  Get us back into the premier league and help me build something that is sustainable?”

She could see their eyes light up with immediate interest and hesitation at the same time, then Ted’s gaze strayed over her shoulder to the backdoor and she knew he was seeing his wife and son.

“Michelle and Henry are more than welcome.  I would organise everything, housing, visa’s and the pay… Michelle will be able to choose if she wants to work or study, maybe get fully qualified and come back to Kansas as a department head.  London has some wonderful schools, we can organise housing for you close to us so Henry can attend the same school as Romejin and Bastiaan.” She realises she may have gone a little too far, they haven’t even said yes yet.

Beard is the first to speak after a strange silence drops over the house.

“Why are you trying to get rid of the current manager?”

“Where shall I start?” Rebecca huffed and rolled her eyes.  “Officially it’s his poor performance over the last few seasons.  Unofficially I could name any number of things, he’s a misogynist who wears these tiny little shorts that force me to see his testicles, he’s cruel and racist and I don’t want him anywhere near my club.  I have enough to buy out his contract but I’d prefer not to spend the money on getting rid of him.  His performance isn’t going to improve anytime soon and I’ve taken to recording any conversations with him.  Eventually he’ll say something that will allow me to fire him outright without any legal issues.”  She lets that sink in before pushing the paper over to them.

“Now, I’m going out to the beach, talk to each other.  Ted, talk to Michelle and Henry.  I don’t need a decision right now, I don’t even need one this weekend.  If you have any questions just ask, please don’t make assumptions, ask.”

Without giving them a chance to respond she stands and heads upstairs to change into her swimming costume and pick up her book.

When she comes back downstairs the two of them are deep in discussion, she doesn’t interrupt, just slips out the backdoor and through the garden.

Out on the beach she discovers someone has made a mini bike track in the sand that Bastiaan is riding back and forth through.  Romejin and Henry are building a sandcastle under Matthijs’ watchful eye while Michelle trails after Jelka who is crouched down inspecting a shell with all the focus she has.

First, she heads over to Matthijs and presses a kiss to his cheek and when he pulls her close she presses her lips to his ear.

“I offered Ted and Beard a 3 year contract…” she whispers “No idea if they’ll accept but I had to ask.”

Content that her children are all ok, she makes her way over to the umbrella Matthijs had set up, she grabs one of the towels and lays it out in the sun before settling herself on her stomach and opening her book.

It isn’t long before Beard is joining them and Michelle heads back to the house after he whispers something in her ear.

He doesn’t give anything away to Rebecca so she has no idea what they are thinking.

Watching her little girl turn to the inscrutable coach and raise her arms with a pout brings a smirk to Rebecca’s lips as he lifts her up and they head towards her.  Her mouth then drops open in surprise when they get close enough for her to hear Beard speaking to her in Dutch, she thinks about asking him about it but is too relaxed and content in the sun to bother right then.

“Coach is taking Michelle out to lunch.” He sits under the umbrella and plops Jelka on the sand between them.  “If you and Matthijs want to go out for dinner, we’ll be happy to watch the kids.”

“Thank you but we’re fine.” she smiles “We’re actually heading home via Hoorne and leaving the children with Matthijs’ parents for a few days.”

Jelka crawls her way over to her mother and climbs onto Rebecca’s back, slumping onto the sun warmed skin with a tired sigh and Rebecca knows it won’t be long before she’s asleep.  Shuffling slightly to make herself a bit more comfortable, Rebecca goes back to her book while Beard keeps an eye on the boys.

Jelka doesn’t sleep for long, and knowing they would all need to head back for lunch soon Rebecca marks the place in her book and takes her down to the water where the 3 little boys are splashing around under Matthijs’ and Beard's watchful gaze.  Wading out into the water, she holds the toddler tight and lets the waves splash up over both their bodies, laughing along with Jelka who squeals and giggles as the cool water washes over them.

Behind them, Matthijs snaps the perfect picture of the two of them laughing together just as Rebecca looks over her shoulder.

“Mama!” she turns at hearing Romejin calling for her.  “Is it lunch yet?  We’re hungry.”

END CHAPTER 10

Chapter Text

July 2019

By the time Ted and Michelle return late in the afternoon the rest of them have eaten lunch, been back to the beach for a while before heading back to the house in the mid afternoon.

Romeijn is reading quietly up in his room while Beard entertains Henry, Bastiaan and Jelka and Matthijs takes the opportunity to nap.

From her spot on the lounge Rebecca is doom scrolling through instagram while keeping an ear on the four further down the yard.  Jelka would need to lie down sooner rather than later and the more energy Bastiaan burned off the better as far as she was concerned.

Looking up when two shadows cross her legs, she smiles at the Lasso’s and pretends she doesn’t see the strained looks on their faces.  Her feeling that all is not well in Lasso land was correct. 

The way Michelle stiffens when Ted presses a kiss to her cheek before going to join Beard sends a jolt of concern up her spine.

“Ted told me about the offer…” Michelle is the first to speak after settling herself on the sun lounge next to Rebecca.

Rebecca hums and locks her phone before turning to give Michelle all of her attention.

“And what are your initial thoughts?” She asks gently.

“I don’t even know where to start…” the other woman huffs and gives herself a moment to gather her thoughts.  “Financially… if we’re sensible we come home debt free and with a really healthy savings account.  From a career perspective it could be good for both of us…”

“And yet you’re hesitating?” Rebecca has known this woman for 24 hours but she likes what she’s seen so far and if given the time and opportunity she can see them becoming good friends.

“It’s just a lot… I told Ted to take the job if he wants it but I don’t know if I want to come too…”

“It’s a big decision” Rebecca concedes “selfishly I hope he does accept but why wouldn’t you want to come?”

Michelle doesn’t answer straight away, how could this woman understand?  She couldn’t understand…

“Ted and I…” she starts but doesn’t know how to proceed.

Neither of them get a chance to continue as the sound of little feet running in their direction and a voice calling Rebecca’s name cause them to look up and see Beard at the end of the garden and Jelka toddling towards them.  Nodding to acknowledge that she’d seen the little girl, Rebecca watched her carefully as she covered the last few meters and lifted her into her lap when she hit the side of the lounge.

“What’s wrong little one?” Rebecca asks as she takes in the tear streaked face and trembling bottom lip.

“Bastiaan duwt mij”

“Bastiaan pushed you?” She cuddles the little girl close.

“Jelka speelt ook…” 

“Ah, you wanted to play with the ball as well…” she pouted back “And I’m guessing the big boys played a bit too rough for my little girl?”

Next to her Michelle chuckled silently as Jelka nodded seriously.

“How about you sit here with mama and Michelle for a while?”

“Ok…” Tucking her head into Rebecca’s chest, Jelka contented herself watching her brothers play and Rebecca knew it wouldn’t be long until she drifted off to sleep, her morning nap had been short and it had been a long day of playing.

“Ever since she was a tiny thing she’s tried and failed to keep up with the boys.”  Rebecca’s hand drifts up and down the toddlers back gently.  “Now, I know we barely know each other but I’m hoping that will change.  If you choose to confide in me, I’ll keep your secrets… I’ll even start by telling you something not many people know…”

Rebecca waits until Michelle nods her acceptance.

“Before I was with Matthijs, I was married.  It wasn’t a long nor auspicious marriage, a little over 2 years.  When he died and it came out that he’d been cheating on me, I was shocked but not surprised because he cheated with me on his first wife…” Rebecca paused to let Michelle take her admission in.

“Most of that is public knowledge and well reported in the press, what most people don’t know is the day I met him I was working at a bar, he came in with his then wife and was the life of the party… buying everyone drinks, the centre of attention, left me an enormous tip and returned a week later without his wife and asked me out.  I turned him down and what followed was 6 weeks of… well looking back I can see how he wore me down, integrated himself into my life and psyche.  I'm not proud of how I let him essentially buy me with promises that in hindsight he would never be able to keep.  I honestly believe he would have destroyed me then discarded the husk that remained.”

She swallows deeply, this wasn’t a topic she spoke of often and it never got any easier.

“Anyone who knew us back then, looked at our marriage from the outside would gush and say how fortunate I was… they would never have seen how slowly and surely I was losing myself… so in a way I can understand how something can look so good and pure from the outside but when you are in the centre you are lost and directionless, unable to move or breathe.”

Michelle doesn’t know exactly how to react to that.  Hearing this woman, who she had honestly begun to suspect had a picture perfect life put into words something she’d been struggling with lifted the weight on her ever so slightly.

“I love Ted…” she decides to start with “he is a good man and an amazing father… his unending positivity is great at the beginning but after a few years leaves you with nowhere to go when things are hard, when you have to make tough decisions and you’re the only one acknowledging the negative parts… I’m trying to feel the way I used to… get back there but…”

“You’re not the woman who married him and he’s not the man you married.  The two of you have grown and changed, become parents, established your careers and something has changed, something intrinsic?” Rebecca asks.

“I think part of the problem is, I’ve changed and he hasn’t or he won’t let me see the change.  We met in college and god, it was so easy back then.  We were young and broke and the world was at our feet and now it feels as though the world is on my shoulders and I don’t know how to explain to him that belief doesn’t make everything better.  You need to look the bad stuff in the eye, acknowledge it and work through it.  I need him looking with me and not just being the cheerleader.”

Rebecca wondered how much catharsis the other woman was getting from someone just sitting and listening and not judging her, she doesn’t know either Ted or Michelle well enough to take a side.

“I’ve been seeing a therapist…” Michelle spoke again “he convinced me to bring Ted along for couples therapy…” Michelle stopped abruptly at the startled look on Rebecca’s face.  “What?”

“Oh…” Rebecca paused, unsure if the offhand comment Sassy made to her over a decade before would be helpful or accurate “just something a friend said to me once, she’s a child psychologist, something about never treating the family as a group and the individual child at the same time so there wasn’t a conflict of interest.  I wonder if it’s the same with couples therapy?  Perhaps something to double check.”  Michelle blinked in surprise, that had never occurred to her.  She’d just been relieved to have someone backing her up.

The two of them drop into slightly uncomfortable silence, the sounds of Jelka snoring and the quartet playing in the background.

“How about you and Matthijs?” Michelle isn’t even sure what she’s asking.

“What about us?” Rebecca barked out a laugh.

“How did you meet?” Michelle decides on what she hopes is a safe question.

“I was enjoying a good book and a fantastic bottle of wine in Monaco and he walked up to me and said ‘I saw you sitting here all alone and I thought, I have to say something to this beautiful woman…’ it was lust at first sight.  We spent the next week together, sometimes we even got out of bed then he went back to Erp and I went home to see friends.  Two weeks later, I turned up on his doorstep, moved in and never left…”

“That’s it?” Michelle giggled “A week of fantastic s-e-x in Monaco and you moved in?” her eyes darted to a still sleeping Jelka.

Rebecca hummed and decided not to point out that Michelle’s discretion wasn’t needed. “He also made me laugh and we could talk about anything for hours on end.  We still can and I think that’s what has kept us going.  We connected physically, then mentally and he’s my best friend, he’s the first person I want to talk to about anything… even when he’s annoying me it’s him I want to bitch to about my irritating partner.”  She laughed to herself.

“One time… god years ago, Romeijn was a baby and we were fighting about something, I don't even remember what now.  It got to the point where Matthijs said ‘I’m too angry to be reasonable so I’m going for a run’.  He packed Romeijn up in the pram and off he went.  20 minutes later I was just about to get into a steaming hot shower when he called me and said ‘I need to complain about my partner to my best friend’.”

Michelle laughed and then teared up slightly as what Rebecca said hit home, she couldn’t remember the last time she and Ted could talk to each other as friends.  The other woman didn’t notice and kept speaking.

“To be honest Michelle, we were in a very different situation to you and Ted” Rebecca sighs. “We were in our 30’s, he was well established in his career and I was financially stable.  We weren’t 22 year olds just starting out.  We both knew what we were willing to compromise on and what we weren’t and we both had the experience to be blunt about it.  If it came down to it I would have walked away and as hard as it would be, I’m still willing to and so is he.” Rebecca finally turned her head and caught how distressed Michelle was becoming. “We’ve never promised each other forever, I want forever with him but I refuse to promise a man forever again.  We promise each other 6 months and when we get to the end of that 6 months we tell each other what we need from them to promise another 6 months…”

“What if one day you don’t think you’ll make it?” Michelle’s throat is tight and she needs to force the words out.

“We say it… we have two days a year that are sacred for us.  We go out and do something fun just the two of us, then we sit quietly and decide together what we want the next 6 months to look like.  I’m not saying we let things sit and fester in the meantime and only talk on those two days but… 

“Nothing is off the table on those days and nothing is off limits…” 

“Precisely” Rebecca reached her hand out with a small smile which broadened when Michelle took it with her own.

“I don’t think I’ll make it 6 months…”

Rebecca’s heart breaks for the other woman.

The rest of the weekend passes quickly, Rebecca answers the random questions she is asked about the job and the club and spends quite a bit of time trying to explain the rules of football to Ted.

Mathijs tries to help but more often than not descends excitedly into Dutch as he tries to explain the different levels of competition and how the sport works.  At 4, Bastiaan has an impeccable grasp of the game and is much more helpful to his mother.  Even if Ted never quite grasps the offside rule.

She doesn’t comment on how relieved Michelle looks every time Ted’s intensity is directed at someone else.

She also notices Ted has a habit of immediately bypassing critical aspects of a problem and into a solution, sometimes without all of the information or letting the other person complete their thought.  It appears as though he relies heavily on Beard to take in all of the details and context.  It makes them a powerful team.

After lunch on Sunday, Rebecca pulls Michelle into a tight hug as they’re packing the car “Ted doesn’t need to accept the job for us to be friends…” she whispers in the shorter woman’s ear and knows the comment is taken in the spirit in which it was offered when the arms around her waist tighten momentarily.

The rest of their trip is quiet and relaxed, they spend most of it on the beach but also head into the city to sight see.

They take the children to Time Square, the Statue of Liberty, they purposefully ignore FAO Schwartz.  As much as Rebecca and Matthijs want to indulge in their teenage selves they are not letting their children loose in the store.  

By the time they are ready to head back to Europe, Rebecca still hadn’t heard anything from Ted and Beard.  She decides to give them another week before checking in.

Glancing around the cabin to make sure both the boys were asleep, Matthijs then turned to Rebecca and considered her for a moment.  She’d been avoiding this discussion for months, since they moved to London and now she couldn’t escape it.

They’d discussed this in the past but had decided to wait until the boys were a bit older before they revisited the topic.  

“Ok…” he made sure to keep his voice low enough not to wake them up. “Last time we talked about this you said not until I’m retired.  The time before you said when the boys are older.  The boys will both be in school this year and I’ve been retired for over 8 months…”

Rebecca knew exactly where this was going and she knew she was going to have to say yes this time.

“... I think we should get a dog.” he finishes and there is something so earnest and pleading in his face, Rebecca needs to bite her lip to stop herself from laughing at him.

Huffing out a sigh, she pulled out her phone and emailed him the list of reputable breeders  and the information on different breeds she’d been collecting.

“No bully breeds, nothing that will grow up to be mistaken for a pony and no working dogs.  Spaniels and terriers are my preference, labradors and retrievers are acceptable” she laid her seat back and pulled the sleep mask over her eyes knowing he would stay awake looking at her research the entire trip to the Netherlands.

An hour later Matthijs pokes her awake to ask a question.

“Do we have to go to a breeder or is a rescue acceptable?” He looks so earnest as she lifts the mask just enough to glare at him with one eye.

“A rescue is fine, same rules apply…” she grumbles and lowers the mask again.

Two days later, when they are finally home and the children settled in bed, Rebecca checks her email and finds one each from Ted and Beard accepting her job offers.  She quickly responds, acknowledging the acceptance and letting them know the club's legal department will be in touch in the next few days to start the process of negotiating and signing the contracts and obtaining everything they’ll need to work in England for the next few years.

A third is from Michelle.

The first part is general catching up on what has happened in the week since they saw each other.  Halfway through she mentions that Ted and Beard had sent their acceptances earlier in the day.

The longer the email goes, the more Rebecca can see Michelle relaxing into it.

We’ve stopped marriage counselling for now.  I spoke to a couple of people about your comment and they all agreed that it’s not healthy for my therapist to be our therapist.  It was strange, when I told Dr Brianson he reacted as though it was a personal insult and I’m really not sure what to do about it.  It’s made my weekly sessions really uncomfortable.

I’ve been thinking a lot about your’s and Matthijs’ 6 month agreement and I don’t think the way you do it will work for us but I did give Ted a couple of things that I need him to do between now and December.  If it all works out, Henry and I should be joining him in London by Christmas.  Whether we stay together or not, I still don’t know…  I’m hoping the distance and space will help me see things a bit clearer.

I don’t want to get divorced but I also don’t think I want to be married to him anymore.

When Rebecca starts drafting her reply she opens it with

Are you looking for commentary on what’s happening in your life or just someone to vent to?  I can do either or both.

Then proceeds to fill her new friend in on the rest of their holiday.

The Greyhounds draw the first match of their championship league season and lose the second, the anticipated tantrum from Bastiaan when he isn’t allowed to come with her to away matches is just as severe as they’d expected, the four and a half year old would much prefer to go to football than go to school.  Their third and fourth matches are drawn and by September the paperwork has all gone through and the visas approved.  Ted and Beard are due to fly in on the 1st of October and according to Michelle she and Henry are supposed to be joining them at Christmas.  A part of Rebecca is wondering if the other woman will change her mind and their plans and stay in Kansas.

All she needs to do now is to fire Cartrick, she could do it now but as much as she despises the man, she doesn’t want to leave the team without a manager for a month.

In an effort to start their working relationship on the right foot, Rebecca sets up weekly facetimes with Ted.  They talk about more than Football, in fact he surprises her by opening up the first one with.

“First concert and best concert?

She’d been so surprised by the question that she’d answered the same for both.

The Spice Girls.

Although once she’d stopped to think about it she should have answered Lowlands for her best concert, she was sure Ted would let her pick the 3 day music festival that she and Matthijs had attended multiple times.  The best year had been the first he took her too, they hadn’t managed to make it to the last few, she made a note to get tickets for the next one and organise for the children to stay with Joris and Roosje.

When Ted mentioned Kenny Rogers, Rebecca knew he and Matthijs would spend hours debating over who sang it better.  Rebecca still couldn’t get him to listen to the original version of ‘She believes in me’, much preferring André Hazes’ version of anything.

It was also during these chats she got more insight into the man she had hired, his ability to see the good in anything which was unfortunately not tempered by the acceptance that not everyone could be brought around.  Some people you need to leave to their fate.

She also noticed he was oddly unaware of himself about certain things and that not everyone saw his endless optimism as a positive trait.

According to Michelle his mother was much the same.

It was on their fourth phone call that Ted brings up Michelle and how stressed out she is at work.

Apparently one of her students was being particularly difficult and he kept trying to help her and she didn’t want to accept his help.

“You can’t fix everything, Ted.” Rebecca doesn’t mean for it to come out so harshly.  “And sometimes all trying does is make things worse…”

“But she’s struggling…” she can see how genuinely distressed he is “she said she’s feeling closed in and overwhelmed… like she can’t breathe…”

Rebecca tries not to roll her eyes, she really does but she fails miserably.

“Let me guess, you started hovering and trying to fix every little thing that may or may not be upsetting her?”

He nodded guilelessly, not having caught on to what she was trying to say.

“That’s not fixing it Ted.” She pauses for a moment and thinks through the options “here’s an option.  Book her in for a long weekend at a spa, she can get pampered, read, nap, whatever she needs.  You and Henry can survive for 4 days without her!  Give Michelle some space to just exist and feel without any responsibilities.”

“Is that what Matty does for you?” Ted isn’t completely sold on the idea but he’s willing to give anything a try.  Rebecca isn’t sure how Matthijs will feel about the nickname, she’s not a fan.

“Once a month, I spend the day at the salon and get the works, hair, nails, facial, massage.  Then friends and I go out without children or partners and pretend we’re 25 again.  The following fortnight he gets the same, a day to spoil himself with absolutely no responsibilities.  Then once a week we each get the option of an evening without domestic responsibilities, no cooking, no cleaning, just playing with the children and if it’s been a really bad week no children.  The other will take the children out to the park or we send each other up to our room for an adult time out to decompress.  Not sure if it will work for you, but it works for us.” 

“We are not perfect…” Rebecca muses “We are absolutely not perfect, not as a couple and not as individuals, we fight badly… a week before we came to America we had a fight about god knows what, I don’t even remember.  I ended up so angry that I taped a picture of him to the punching bag and spent an hour thumping away at it… but we accept that we can’t fix everything for each other, sometimes we just need to give the other space to work it out for themselves.”  She really does enjoy the stunned look on his face.

A few hours later a text message from Michelle pops up on her phone.

Whatever you said to him, thank you.  I’m really looking forward to my weekend of being pampered.

With a smile she texts back You’re welcome and I’ll make sure to book you in with my stylist and beautician when you get here.  She’s absolutely brilliant.

It’s also in September, she and Matthijs take the children down to the local RSPCA and they come home with a 6 month old chocolate labrador crossed with something, possibly a staffordshire terrier but they’re not entirely sure, called Billy.

Despite still being a little apprehensive, Rebecca can admit he’s a sweet pup who settles in well.  For the first few weeks, she watches him with Jelka especially carefully but doesn’t see any worrisome behaviour around the 18 month old.

It’s Matthijs Billy truly bonds with and even though neither will admit it they are both aware that the dog was truly for Matthijs.  His military lifestyle and then Rebecca’s reticence had been the only thing stopping him from getting a dog years before.

Now though, Billy accompanied him on his morning runs, when he walked Romejin and Bastiaan to school and even out to the airfield.  According to Matthijs, Billy loved going up in the Fokker C.V that she had spent years tracking down for him and then having restored.

Rebecca loved going up in the plane with him as well but she had been relieved when Matthijs suggested they wait until any of the children were 10 before he took them up in the tiny two seater.  They’d all been up together in the cessna he used for teaching multiple times.

“Too many tempting buttons for little hands to push…” he’d told her when she first brought up the subject.  “By 10 they’ll be old enough to sit in the front seat alone and I won’t have to worry.”

“Are you sure?” Rebecca raises her eyebrow as she watches Bastiaan fall out of a tree.

The final nail in George Cartricks career comes when Rebecca least suspects it.

She catches the tail end of a comment he makes to a reporter and knows she has him on a confidentiality breach.  It does nothing in Cartrick’s favour that it’s the 10th anniversary of Rupert’s death and she’s feeling a little out of sorts due to the ‘memorials’ that are popping up.  She has no doubt it’s Randolph’s doing and it’s leaving her constantly dodging requests for comment on her late husband's supposed legacy.

With Ted and Beard flying in on Sunday evening, Rebecca waits until first thing Monday morning to call him to her office.

Knowing it will get nasty, she makes sure both legal and HR are there and leaves Jelka with Matthijs for the day.

At the last moment she also invites Leslie to join them.  She can see immense and untapped potential in the man and wants to see how he copes with the confrontation that’s about to happen.

“Take a seat George…” he seems completely unaware of what the other occupants of the room mean.

“Right love, I’ve got training in a minute, so whatever it is you need to get off your impressive chest, let me have it…”

Before she can even formulate a response he bizarrely continues speaking and digs the hole deeper.

“Although at least you’ve got your top done up this time, is the little one with that house husband of yours?”

Her hackles immediately rise and she has to fight to keep her posture relaxed and non combative.  It’s never been her strong suit, nor has keeping her emotions off her face.

“Do you mean my partner of 9 years?” Rebecca manages to grind out as she glares at Cartrick “the man who has spent the last 20 years as a pilot in the Royal Dutch Air Force and after retiring with the rank of Lieutenant Colonel, took a well deserved break and now runs his own business?”

Matthijs’ military service wasn’t common knowledge around the club but Rebecca did enjoy the look of disbelief on George’s face.

“But that’s not why we’re here.  I’m going to be blunt with you, your fired”

Later, she would tell Matthijs that the face he made was what Romejin called a shocked Pikachu face and she’d almost burst out laughing when that flashed through her mind.

“Yeah right…” he stared at her for a moment “What the fuck for?”

“I suppose I could go for any number of reasons, really.  Your casual misogyny, for one.

“What?”

“I know, it's a big word.  Ask one of your daughters what it means.”  She waits a beat for him to realise she’s just insulted both his intelligence and his parenting.

“Or perhaps it's your performance, having led this team through a season that is so remarkably bad we were relegated.  Or maybe it's because you insist on wearing those tiny shorts that force me to see one of your testicles.”  He shifts uncomfortably as though trying to hide them.  “And there's the other one.  Liam and Noel.  Though, perhaps not an oasis.  Still, if I'm being completely honest, George, you're fired because I'm the owner now and when I caught you revealing confidential information to the press I knew I could fire you outright without buying out your contract.” 

“What the fuck are you talking about?  I didn’t tell anyone, anything.” Rebecca could see on his face he knew exactly what she was talking about.

“So you’re not the one I saw and heard telling the Sun confidential medical information on Dani Rojas’ recovery?”

His jaw dropped open and he knew he was sunk.

“Now do fuck off you fat twat!”

In the background, both legal and HR dropped their faces into their palms while Leslie choked on air.

Well that had gone exactly as she predicted, badly.

Rebecca heaved a sigh of relief as George Cartrick raged his way out of her office, no longer Richmond’s manager or her problem.

Ted and Beard had arrived the day before and were sleeping off the jet lag hopefully ready to hit the ground running the following day.

“Can you get John and Tony for me please?” She instructs her assistant.  If this was going to work she needed these two men on side quickly.  Their knowledge and experience would be invaluable.

Cartrick was probably still in the building, being trailed by HR when the two assistants made it to her office.  Both looking worried for their own future.

“Right…” Rebecca waves her hand for them to sit opposite her at the desk.

“Firstly, I’ve just fired George Cartrick.  I’m sure it won’t be too hard for you to work out why.  I also want to reassure you that I have no plans to replace either of you.  If you wish to resign after this conversation that is your choice and yours alone.”  She held eye contact with them long enough for them to realise how serious she was.

“I already have a replacement lined up and he’ll be starting tomorrow.  At first you are going to think I’m absolutely mad, and I just might be but hear me out before jumping to conclusions.”

She watches them exchange confused glances and with a deep breath pushes on.

“As you are well aware, Richmond is not short on talent, our players are brilliant and I’ve long suspected that the two of you do the actual work and Cartrick took the credit?”

They didn’t need to say anything, the looks on their faces told Rebecca they agreed with both points.

“So, if we have the right players on the pitch and the right trainers then there must be something else we’re missing and that is community and cohesion.  I’m well aware that my absence hasn’t helped things, that Cyril was not the leader I had hoped he’d be and will take responsibility for that and am trying to correct it.  This is why it’s taken me so long to remove Cartrick, I wanted to be sure that his replacement filled the precise gap we have here at Richmond.  I want someone who can help us build unity and community here in the club.  To that end, I’m bringing in…” she paused for a moment, she’d been trying to work out how to describe Ted and Beard and had not yet been successful.  “I’m bringing in a manager who will be able to focus on that.  Here’s the mad part, he has no experience in association football, never managed a team at any level, doesn’t know any of the rules… he’s also American.”

The horror that crept over their faces told her everything she needed to know about their thoughts on her hiring Ted.

“I’ve given them a 3 year contract and two specific goals for their time in Richmond.  Help us get back into the premier league and prepare the person I have in mind to manage the team long term.  That person has everything we need in a manager and has the potential to be brilliant at it, they’re just not ready yet… and from what I understand neither of you are looking for that particular promotion.”

Tony stared at her with an unreadable look on his face but she could see the thought process flickering behind his eyes as he thought through what she had just said.

Rebecca could see the exact moment he put all the pieces together.

END CHAPTER 11

Chapter Text

October 2019

“Fuuuuuuck…” his eyes lit up.

“What?” John’s gaze darts between the other two, confused.

“She wants Kent to be manager when he hangs up his boots.” Tony turned back to Rebecca “I’m right, aren’t I?”

“Precisely,” Rebecca grinned, “but we’re not telling Roy that, so I need you to keep mum about this.  In fact, I would prefer it if the salient details of this conversation do not go beyond the 3 of us.  It won’t be long before George’s firing reaches the press, I’ll make an official announcement on his replacement later in the week once Ted has met the team and had a chance to settle in.  Now can I assume you’ll be giving the new manager your full support?”

They both nod, still stunned by what they had just been told.

“Excellent, please have the team in the press room after training today.  I’ll fill them in myself then.  Lastly, I’m looking for someone familiar with today’s PR environment, nothing full time but someone who can provide recommendations and guidance.  I have my own contacts I have reached out to but I’m looking for someone…” She pauses and gathers her thoughts for a moment, “someone unexpected, who can straddle both the football world and the real world.” 

She’d been meeting with PR firms for months but none of them felt right and she wasn’t happy with the plans any of the so-called experts had presented her with.

Both men nod, as they are exiting the office John turns back “You know who you should talk to about PR?” Rebecca smiles and nods in encouragement “Keeley Jones, knows her shit, she does.  I can send you her number?”

He looks so adorably nervous, but smiles back when Rebecca’s face widens into a genuine grin.

“Excellent!”

When the text message with her contact drops through a few minutes later she immediately dials the number and she’s not surprised when it goes straight through to voicemail.

“Hello Ms Jones, this is Rebecca Welton.  I was given your number by Tony Pickering and I was hoping we could meet.  Give me a call back when you can…”

It’s a few hours before she gets a text message in response.

Seriously, who the fuck is this?

Rebecca blinked in surprise at the unexpected message.

This was the person John recommended to her to talk to about PR?

Closing the app down and slipping her phone into her pocket, Rebecca decided a considered response was required for this.  She had the more important business of addressing the team.

She’d closed the press room for the day and while there was a roving reporter or two wandering Nelson Road she didn’t need to worry about a press conference.  In fact she’d had Leslie cancel all press events for the club this week.  She wanted to get George off the premises and give Ted and Beard a couple of days to settle in before making a formal announcement.

First she needed to fill in the players, leaning against the desk she watched as the thankfully, freshly showered team filed in and sat in the seats usually reserved for the press.

It was interesting to see who sat together.

It seemed Diederick and Sam’s fledgling friendship was still going strong, he would loudly and crudely deny it but she had seen the way Roy had taken both the young men under his wing, supporting them on the pitch in his own inimitable fashion.

Once she is certain everyone is there, she nods at John and Tony who close a door each and stand guard to ensure they are not disturbed.

Glancing around, she takes note of the various attitudes and looks she is getting.  While the players are used to seeing her around the club and at matches now she didn’t really interact with them yet.  She was hoping today would start to change that.

“Everyone…!” She calls trying to get their attention, some of them quiet down and turn towards her.  Others she notes can’t hear her over their teammates and others still she suspects are ignoring her.

“OI!” Roy stands and bellows impressively, causing immediate silence to drop over the rest of the room “Shut the fuck up you fucks!  Ms Welton wants a word.”

“Thank you Roy” she smiles and nods at the captain as he sits back down.

“This morning I fired George Cartrick.  Your new gaffer will be starting tomorrow.  Questions?”

There is a beat of stunned silence before the room erupts.

Despite their initial shock, the team took Cartrick’s departure rather well as far as Rebecca is concerned.

Back up in her office alone, she takes her phone out again and decides not to respond to Keeley’s message, instead trying to call again.

This time the phone was picked up.

“Whoever the fuck you are, pretending to be Rebecca Welton is not the way into my pants.”

Pulling the phone away from her ear and glaring at the device for a moment Rebecca quickly makes a decision and hits the button to request a video call.

“Ms Jones, perhaps we should make this a video chat” she says as she waits for it to connect.

The call connects just as she is lowering herself onto the sofa and the reaction is instantaneous.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry Ms Welton…” the younger woman looks horrified.

“Oh please, call me Rebecca and I’m rather impressed by your call screening tactics.” She can see Keeley physically gulping.

“Re… Rebecca… hi.  I’m Keeley, but you know that… shit… I’m so sorry, I’m just really nervous now…”

“Please don’t be, as I mentioned in my message Tony Pickering gave me your number.  I’ve spent the last few months trying to find a PR firm, I’ve met with quite a number and not one of them have managed to hit the brief I’ve given them.  I need someone who understands both the football world and the real world, someone who will help me promote the club and the players while ensuring my family's privacy is protected.  Do you happen to know anyone who could help with that?”

She watched, fascinated as she saw Keeley turn the problem over in her mind, it was lightening fast and Rebecca can imagine she’s flipping through a mental list of scenarios and contacts running each of them through Rebecca’s request.

“Let me guess, every single one of them tried to convince you to use your very cute children in ways you aren’t comfortable with claiming that not giving their names would be enough protection?”  Keeley finally spoke, making Rebecca heave out a sigh of relief.

“Precisely, they attend matches with me so I know I can’t stop the press from getting their picture but we do want to minimise just how exposed they are and how much insight people get into my private life.”

“Kind of like finding the balance between acknowledging their existence and importance without actually talking about them and putting them in front of the camera?”  The intense look on Keeley’s face tells Rebecca she is taking the request seriously.

“That’s actually fairly close to the brief.” Rebecca admitted.

“Can you give me a couple of days?  I won’t give anyone any details, but I’d like some time to think more about this so I don’t give you shit advice.” 

Keeley was the first person she’d spoken to about this that had not immediately started firing off ideas, instead taking a moment to process her request and ensure she understood it completely.  It was rather refreshing.

“Certainly…” Rebecca flicks over to her calendar “Can you come by the club later this week so we can discuss it further?”

There’s something in the way Keeley’s eyes light up and at the same time she looks deeply insecure.

Rebecca briefly wonders if anyone has ever sought Keeley Jones out for her mind over her looks.

Late that afternoon, when she is sure the club will be empty, Rebecca pulls into The Green and picks up Ted and Beard.

“Welcome to England!” she smirks as they do up their seat belts “How’s your first day been?”

“Coach here kept looking the wrong way when crossing the road.”  Beard immediately and shamelessly tattles on his best friend, causing Rebecca to bark out a laugh.

“Make sure to look both ways and hold his hand then.”

She keeps the conversation light on the short drive back to the club, where she gives them a quick tour and hands over the wifi password and their access passes before they get back in the car and head for her house.  She keeps the conversation light, knowing that once dinner is finished and the children are in bed, it will become much more serious.

It’s really rather amusing to see Jelka’s eyes light up and squeal happily when she catches sight of Beard.  Sometime in the two days they spent together her toddler had become enamoured with the man.

“Baard Baard!”

“Jeltje!” he plucked the toddler up and tossed her lightly in the air causing wild giggles to reverberate through the house.

Rebecca loved that sound.

When she comes back downstairs after getting Jelka and Bastiaan to bed and Romejin reading quietly in his room, Ted, Beard and Matthijs are still at the dining table chatting away.  Topping up her own wine, Rebecca slides into the empty seat between Ted and Matthijs, lacing her fingers with her partners when his hand drops gently onto her thigh.

The next hour, they are treated to Ted’s meandering views on London.  Everything from the taste of the water, the cars travelling on a different side of the road, the quality of the barbeque sauce, their driver taking them via Tower Bridge.  They hear all about Ollie and his father in law’s restaurant and Ted’s promise to go there sometime, which apparently Rebecca and Matthijs are expected to join them at some date in the future.

It’s not hard to see the nerves radiating from him accompanied by the jittery words.  Eventually, Rebecca knows she needs to intervene as he’s showing no sign of slowing down.

“Ted… Ted… TED” it takes 3 tries, getting louder with each repetition of his name for Rebecca to break through and quieten the man down.

“I know you’re nervous…” she holds up a hand to stop him from interjecting “Don’t try and tell us you’re not.  I now know more about Arthur Bryant sauce than I thought possible.  I’m fucking nervous about introducing you to the team, I’m nervous about their reaction and the reaction of the fans and the press." She pauses trying to decide how far to go, but in for a penny “I’m worried I’ve brought you here only to set you up to fail… that this is nothing more than an exercise to boost my own ego.  To prove to the other owners that I can do whatever I want and fuck them and their ideas on what is proper football.”

A high pitched whistling sound escapes Beard's mouth as Ted gapes at her.

“Well Boss…” Ted’s eyes darted around the room as he worked through her admittance “Right… okay… well, you know… ummm”

Beside her Matthijs snickered, he was used to this side of Rebecca.  The side that could be almost brutally honest without being cruel.  It was one of the things he adored about her, it meant she could cut through bullshit incredibly fast but it hadn’t always been tempered by real life.  Growing up with money and all the opportunities she could want, then marrying a multi millionaire and inheriting everything when he died had left her with an occasionally breathtaking lack of awareness of the real world.  Back then, as far as Rebecca was concerned nothing couldn’t be fixed by throwing money at whatever was wrong.

He’d watched her struggle to settle into a simpler life, a life where no one knew or cared who she was or how much money she had.  A life where they cooked their own meals and cleaned their own home and didn’t have chauffeured cars at their beck and call.  They wanted to give their children all the opportunities they could while making sure they were raising little people who would be able to stand on their own two well grounded feet.

Matthijs couldn’t count the number of times they'd needed to scrape the charred remains of her attempts at cooking off various surfaces but by the time Romejin came along she was somewhat competent in the kitchen and the two of them now enjoyed cooking together.  It had been a steep learning curve for both of them.  Matthijs having access to more money than he thought possible and Rebecca learning just because she could afford something it didn’t mean they needed it to be happy.

“Too much?” Her gaze flits between a still stuttering Ted and an amused Beard, who lifts his hand to show her his thumb and pointer finger millimeters apart while mouthing ‘little bit’, but it appears it had done its job and broken Ted out of his spiral and the man quickly rallies.

“I’m gonna be honest with you Boss.  Beard already brought up all of those points when we talked about this job you offered us.  We know we’re in for a bit of an uphill battle with the team and we know the press isn’t gonna be kind to us to begin with but I’m confident we can win them over and I ain’t ever met a team owner that didn’t have a healthy ego so nothin new there.”

Rebecca released the breath she hadn’t realised she was holding.

“Well, I’ve managed to buy you a day or two on the press front.  I’ve cancelled all media events for the club for the rest of the week, on top of that it’s a bi week so we don’t have a match until next Saturday.  That being said, Cartrick’s firing will leak by morning if it hasn’t already.  I’ve already left instructions that no one is to comment and I will make a formal announcement in due course.  The team knows you’ll be starting tomorrow and not much more than that.” She paused for a moment “I didn’t want to colour their own impressions of you, so however you want to play your introduction to the team I’ll support you.”

Ted and Beard exchanged glances and Rebecca wouldn’t be surprised if they had already discussed this.

“Well Boss, here’s what we think…”

The next morning, after walking the boys to school, Matthijs drops Rebecca and Jelka at Nelson road.  They’d talked multiple times about getting a second car but Rebecca preferred to call the car service when needed.

They’d offered Ted and Beard a ride or a car service but they’d refused, claiming the walk from their flats would do them good.

It had surprised her when Ted had only asked for a small flat to start with, claiming he wanted to find a place for them on his own.  Apparently Michelle and Henry would be flying over in a few weeks for a long weekend and the plan was for the three of them to go house hunting together.

Michelle’s recent correspondence had Rebecca wondering if she really wanted a place for the 3 of them or a place just for her and Henry.  Either way, she’d put Ted in touch with the right people to find them homes to look at and if she’d given them instructions to only show properties in the same school catchment as her, well… that was her business.

Striding through Nelson road with Jelka trotting along, Rebecca can’t help but notice the looks she is getting from the people she passes.  They’re used to the children trailing along with her by now and knows word of Cartricks firing has worked its way through the rest of the club.  She’s genuinely astonished, the press didn’t have it yet.

How they react to Ted will be the true test.

Surprisingly he turns up in her office as she gets herself settled behind the desk.

“Hiya Boss!” his head pops through the door.

“Ted, come on in.” she waves him towards her.

“Baard Baard here too?” Jelka perks up and stares at the closed door, hoping he’d be following Ted.

“Sorry Miss Jelka, Beard isn’t here right now.” he ran a hand gently over her straight blonde hair and returned the pout she gave him.

“So last night, I couldn’t sleep and ended up baking and thought heck, I might as well share the love…” he held out a small pink box.

Squinting at him slightly, she reached out and popped the lid open.  Her eyes lit up when she saw three slightly uneven rectangles of what smelled like shortbread.

Without even thinking about it, she reached in and took one of the buttery biscuits out and brings it to her lips.

The first taste is divine and before she can even attempt to curb her words an astonished “Fuck me!” explodes from her lips.

“Fuck Mama?” Jelka immediately repeats much to her chagrin.

Dropping her head in resignation, that’s three for three that she’s taught to swear and Matthijs will never let her forget it.

“That’s a mama only word sweetheart…” she half heartedly attempts to correct before looking back at Ted.  “You made these?”

He nodded, the shock of her reaction fading into a delighted smile.

“What will it cost me for the recipe?” she asks around a second bite.

“I’ll tell you what, how bout I bring you another batch each morning and we can call it biscuits with the boss?  We can have a quick catch up, keep gettin to know each other and make sure we’re readin from the same cheat sheet?” he proposed.

“Seriously Ted, I’m not going to make you bake me biscuits every day but I will pay you an exorbitant amount for this recipe.” she pauses and goes back over what he’d said “And yes we can do biscuits with the boss, but not every day.  I’ll let you know my schedule and when I’ll be at the club.”

“Well, I’ll take what I can get… so, where were we up to?” Ted plops himself down in one of her visitors chairs “We’ve done first concert, best concert, favourite book and meal… oh yeah , movies.  Let’s go by genre, favourite musical?

“My favourite musical or the musical I pretend is my favourite to stop my children from rioting?”  she shoves the last of the biscuit in her mouth, planning on saving the other two for later in the day.

Throughout the day she purposely avoids the dressing room and the areas the players frequent in an effort to keep to her promise of allowing Ted and Beard to connect to the team in their own way.

The only person she sees from the team is Tony, who sticks his head in her office just after lunch.

“Are you sure about this?” he asks.

“Absolutely!” Rebecca is fairly certain she’s being asked about Ted and Beard, so she gives him her most confident and reassuring smile.

That afternoon, her phone beeps with a message from Matthijs confirming he’s on his way to the club with the boys to pick them up.  Gathering their bags and a sleepy Jelka, Rebecca makes her way out of her office and towards the car park.

The last thing Rebecca expected was for the door to the carpark to open as she entered the tunnel.

It was slightly more baffling to see Ted’s face peer through and then disappear but the door remained open.  When she finally arrived, as she suspected her new gaffer was standing holding the door for her.

“That’s a long time to wait, Ted.” she smirks at him.  She rushed for no one but a hungry newborn.

“Well I respect you didn’t hurry.” he shrugged, after 2 months of face timing and emails back and forth, they were starting to build the beginnings of a solid friendship.  It helped that she got on with Michelle and Matthijs liked both the Americans and she could see the friendships only deepening in the future.

“So, how was your first official day?” They'd discussed how difficult his first few weeks with the team would be and neither of them were under the impression that it would have gone well but Ted knew they were working towards an institutional change and it would take as long as it takes.

“Whatever y’alls smallest unit of measurement is over here is about how much headway I made.” Rebecca is pleased to see he doesn’t seem in the least bit intimidated or upset.

“Ahh…” whatever response she was going to give is lost by the loud music and even louder engine of the car that screeches into the carpark and skids to a stop in front of them.

“Solid entrance…” Ted mutters just loud enough for Rebecca to hear as Keeley Jones slides out of the driver's seat.  What she’s doing at the club, Rebecca has no idea and chooses not to ask.

“What would you rather be?  A lion or a panda?” She asks both of them, despite the fact that she has no idea who Ted is and has only ever spoken to Rebecca once over the phone.

“Panda…”

“Lion…!”

They both answer at the same time, not helping Keeley’s conundrum at all.  Hearing the others answer, they turn to stare at each other in shock.

“Are you crazy?” Rebecca is the first to recover while holding back a laugh.

“No, panda’s are…” Ted attempts to defend his choice but Rebecca isn’t having it.

“Fat and lazy and have piss-stained fur…”

“No, I was gonna say…” he attempted but Rebecca kept going.

“Lions are powerful and majestic and rule the jungle.”

“Tell that to an elephant!” Ted fires back before turning to Keeley.  “Oooh, can I be an elephant?”

“No” she shakes her head “Lion or Panda.”

“Panda…”

“Lion…!”

Rebecca and Ted turn to each other again and then burst out laughing, confusing Keeley even more.  Rebecca is the first to get control of herself.

“What’s black and white and red all over?” she asks the two of them.  Keeley shrugs while Ted excitedly asks what.

“A panda that gets anywhere near a fucking lion…” 

“Fuck Mama?” Jelka mumbles sleepily causing Ted and Keeley’s eyes to go wide but before Rebecca can say anything else another voice floats over to them.

“Mama, we komen te laat” (Mummy, we’re going to be late) the three of them turn towards the waiting vehicle to see Bastiaan leaning out the rear window.

“Coming!” she calls over her shoulder before giving Ted and Keeley a nod goodbye.“Ted, Ms Jones, I’ll see you on Friday.”  As she's walking away she smirks as she hears Keeley talking to Ted.  

“That Rebecca is an intimidating, very tall woman… I mean the minute she locked eyes with me, I started sweating.”

Ted’s response is lost as she buckles Jelka in and then slides into the passenger seat next to Matthijs.

Over the next couple of days, she can almost feel Ted’s positivity floating up from the dressing rooms.

Not everyone is sold on him yet, but when the requests start coming up, like the showers need fixing and the snacks in the machines need to be better quality Rebecca doesn’t hesitate to approve them immediately.

Then she calls Ted upstairs and explains to him that he doesn’t need her approval to call facilities management, and that food services can be contacted directly about the snacks.  It’s a bit of a wake up call for Rebecca, the administration for a professional football team is vastly different to what he had to do for a college team.  After training finished on his third day, Rebecca spent the afternoon with Ted and Beard walking them through their budget, what they were responsible for and who from each department he needs to contact for what.

“The budget is tight…” she sighs once they’ve gone through everything “Relegation meant we lost a huge amount of advertising revenue as well as a number of our top tier players.  Fortunately we were able to get a handful of younger players with a ton of potential and who are desperate to prove themselves.  If we can get promoted, we’ll keep all of our current players and get our budget back.  It’s why your primary goal for the rest of this season is to get us promoted back to the premier league.  We’ll sort everything else out next season.”

When Keeley arrives for their meeting, Rebecca is sitting on the lounge with Jelka in her lap reading.

After Rebecca calls for her to come in, she’s surprised when the younger woman toes her shoes off and plops down on the other end of the lounge as though this isn’t her first time in Rebecca’s office.

“I’ve decided not to be afraid of you anymore!” She announced without preamble.

“I didn’t know you were…” Rebecca can’t keep the surprise out of her voice.

“Oh yeah, I was like fucking terrified of you… you walked in here and ripped everything to fucking shreds and are working that amazing arse off to put it all back together while the press must be making everything a fucking nightmare… doesn’t it just piss you off how they just make shit up about you?”

“Dat is mama only words.” Jelka scolded Keeley over the top of her book.

“Clever girl, Keeley is allowed to borrow mama’s words today.” Rebecca kisses the top of her daughter's head as Keeley blushes and mouths ‘sorry’ at the other woman.

With a shrug Rebecca continues “It’s one of the reasons I stayed away so long.  No one knew or cared who I was.  I could live my life without being under a microscope, I still find it hilarious that Matthijs and I went to matches at Utrecht all the time and no one noticed there was a premier league owner in the crowd.”

Keeley’s jaw dropped at the admittance and Rebecca kept speaking.

“And that little tidbit stays between us.  I know you’re here to talk PR which means you will be privy to things I don’t want getting out to the general public.” Her expression turned stoney as she waited for a response.

“I get it, what happens in Rebecca’s office, stays in Rebecca’s office, yeah?”

Rebecca nodded “Excellent, what do you have for me?”

“I’ve got a couple of ideas.  Basically you want to update Richmond’s socials and start to control the public's perception of you without exposing the kids, yeah?”

Rebecca raised a surprised eyebrow, that was almost exactly what she wanted to do but she hadn’t said as much to Keeley on the phone.

“Yes, that’s almost exactly it.” She agreed as Keeley chewed on her lip for a moment.

“Right, then fuck some floppy cock PR firm.  Set up a verified insta that you have complete control of and start posting.  If you have someone you trust enough to manage it, they can post on your behalf so you don’t have to worry about it.  As for the club, maybe focus on the players instead of the club as a whole.  The best campaigns are the ones they believe in so maybe talk to them first about what they want to be involved in and how they think they can contribute.”

Rebecca nodded all the way through Keeley’s explanation and everything she said was making sense.  She likes the idea of having complete control over her own account, the only person she’d trust right now to post for her was Matthijs and he would just fill her feed with planes and Billy.

“What is it you do again?” There is something intriguing about Keeley Jones.

“I’m sort of famous for being almost famous…”

“Right, well do you actually do marketing and PR or just give advice when you’re not being almost famous?” Rebecca has an idea, possibly a whim.

“I’ve set up a couple of things for Jamie, my boyfriend and Isaac here at Richmond, they’re friends and I get 10%.” The pride Keeley takes in this accomplishment makes Rebecca smile.

“Well, if you want to work with any of the other Richmond players, you have my support.  I’d also like to hire you on an adhoc basis to work with the clubs marketing and communication team to bring our socials up to date.  Nothing full time, maybe 10 hours a week to give advice and make recommendations?  Anything you organise with the individual players will be between you and them.”

“Mama?” Neither of them realised Jelka had been listening the whole time.

“Yes my love?” Rebecca looked down at her, she should have known better.  At this age they are little sponges, taking in everything going on around them and spitting it back out with the subtlety of a train wreck.

“What's floppy cock?”

Keeley’s eyes went wide and she slapped both hands over her mouth just after a rough “Fucking hell” slipped out.

Rebecca bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing.

“They are Keeley only words” mirth danced in her eyes and she lifted Jelka off the couch and placed her on the ground “Off you pop, go play while mama and Keeley finish talking.”

When she was sure Jelka was sufficiently distracted an inelegant snort erupted from her mouth.

“Oh my god Rebecca, I’m so sorry.  I did not mean to teach your kid more swear words!” Keeley babbled.

“Don’t worry too much about it, I’m a much worse influence on my children than you could ever be.”  Rebecca attempted to reassure her.

Unfortunately for both of them, Jelka doesn’t believe that those words are for her mother and Keeley only and it takes them weeks to get the 18 month old to stop using the phrase ‘fucking cock’ at every opportunity.

As it’s Rebecca’s fault, Matthijs deems it her responsibility to deal with it and all the repercussions.  The worst of which is when she innocently looks up at Paul and quite seriously asks if he is a fucking cock.

Fortunately her father takes it all in stride, knowing Rebecca got her penchant for swearing from him so at least Jelka comes by it honestly.

END CHAPTER 12

Chapter Text

October 2019

Rebecca was rather impressed that she had managed to keep her plans for the management team under wraps for as long as she did.

A week after Ted arrived, she finally fronts up to the press.

In a now, Keeley approved plan, she doesn’t make Ted face them just yet, instead getting in front of the camera’s herself.

“As you are all aware, AFC Richmond and George Cartrick have officially parted ways…” Rebecca stood in front of the podium, she didn’t plan for this to be a long or involved press conference.  She wouldn’t be taking questions or inviting commentary on her decisions.

“A new manager has been appointed and has started with the team.  The person I’ve chosen to lead our wonderful team will be introduced to you fine members of the press later in the week.  I expect you to be as considerate and welcoming as they are.”

She nodded to Leslie who began handing out the information packets on Ted and Beard.

“At this time, we will not be taking any questions, but  I will see you all on Friday for the pre-match briefing as we prepare to face PNE.”

Nodding her head at the room decisively, Rebecca turned and strode out of the room with Leslie close behind as the various journalists exploded and started yelling questions at her back.

It was her hope that the vultures would, over the next few days, vent themselves out on speculation and be somewhat decent to Ted.

When the press room door closes behind them, she turns to Leslie with a thoughtful look.  “Who amongst the press core would you trust to give Ted a fair interview?  One that is honest and not sensationalised?”

She kept her eyes firmly on Leslie and away from the owner's wall where the picture of Rupert was still displayed.

As much as she barely remembers she was once married to him, it didn’t mean she wanted to see the twats face if she could help it.

“Perhaps Trent Crimm from the Independent.” Leslie suggested after a moment's thought “He’s rather even handed all things being said.”

Rebecca nodded in thought, it wasn’t a bad suggestion “let’s wait to see how things go over the next few days.  Plan to approach him early next week but don’t do it until I give the go ahead.”

Ted’s first press conference doesn’t go as badly as they’d feared, nor does it go as well as she’d hoped.

They’re a salty bunch and she smugly tells them that to their faces.  Rebecca also accuses them of abandoning all sense of manners and hospitality.  Seeing them seethe and grumble at her words but then simmer down in the face of her glare is a massive boost to her ego.

She’s still deciding on if they are going to reach out to one of them for a private one on one with Ted.  What is published over the next 48 hours will be very telling and a part of her hopes Mr Crimm proves Leslie correct.

She’s not sure Ted spraying the front row with a mouthful of Pellegrino is a good or a bad thing.

The match against PNE is a smashing match and she can see the change in the team already.  It’s subtle, they seem more in sync and to be communicating better.

Turning her head just enough to catch Matthijs’ gaze, he nods his head.  He can see it as well.

Behind them Katrijn and Pim cheer loudly as Diederick scores at the beginning of the second half.  Their son is thriving at Richmond, having made friends and is improving by leaps and bounds under Roy’s tutelage.  He and Sam’s friendship flowing out onto the pitch and the two of them have the makings of a formidable pair.  They just need a striker to sync up with them.

They end the match with a win and another 3 points, putting the Greyhounds solidly in the top third of the table.

Rebecca holds off on allowing the one on one, not happy with what the traditional press is saying, instead allowing Keeley free reign to plan a social media bombardment starting with Rebecca.

They start with a five part video series of Rebecca giving a tour of the club, then they move on to rapid fire questions.  They haven’t discriminated between player, management team or support staff and the questions range from best goal to favourite baked good and everything in between.

As their followers, hits and likes all go up so does the sentiment for the team.  Ted is invaluable in the work he is doing in the community as well, simply by being there and being open and friendly with everyone.

By the time Michelle and Henry arrive for a visit in mid-November the team has settled into a good rhythm.  Ted has started to smooth out the roughest of attitudes and the impact was clear.

It was also when Rebecca announced AFC Richmond’s first annual benefit for underprivileged children.  She’d always been baffled by Cyril’s reticence to engage in charity works and no matter how hard she pushed he wouldn’t give it more than a token effort and without being there in person to enforce it, it had been difficult to get any traction.

She was neck deep in planning mode for the event scheduled for 2nd February 2020.

While she’d assisted with many events from behind the scenes over the years, this was the first time in a decade that Rebecca was organising one start to finish.

In truth, she was looking forward to it.

Keeley was having a field day, preparing their social media blitz for it and the more time Rebecca spent around the younger woman, the more she understood that when Keeley said she wasn’t going to be afraid of her anymore it really meant that they were going to be friends.  

When Keeley Jones decided she was going to be friends with someone, there wasn’t a whole lot you could do about it, not that Rebecca minded.  Keeley was a refreshing delight.  With very few boundaries and even fewer qualms about flirting with both Matthijs and Rebecca equally she always enjoyed her afternoons with the model turned PR guru.

The weekend Michelle and Henry were there, Rebecca tried to balance making them feel welcome while still letting Ted have time with his family.  

That weekend happened to be an away match against Charlton Athletic, with them only having to go across town, Michelle and Henry rode with the team and then joined the rest of the Richmond people in the West Stand.  Trusting Henry and Romejin to behave themselves, they let the 7 year olds sit with Terry Higgins in the row in front under the watchful eyes of Leslie and Keeley while Michelle sits next to Rebecca.  Rebecca was quite delighted with her idea to suggest Leslie bring his youngest along to give Henry another friend.

“How’s London treating you?” Rebecca sits back down after passing Jelka to Matthijs.

“Well, it’s warmer than Kansas right now so that’s a point in its favour” Michelle grins.

“Hmmm” Rebecca hums and raises a well manicured eyebrow, knowing what Michelle was doing.  “After the match, we’re sending our offspring for some quality time with their fathers and going for dinner.” She declares, causing Keeley to whip around with delight in her eyes.

“Oh, I know this great place that does the most amazing cocktails!” then she wilts slightly “Sorry, I didn’t mean to invite myself along.”

“Nonsense” Rebecca leans forward to squeeze her shoulder “Leslie, would Julie like to join the 3 of us for dinner tonight?”  Keeley’s eyes light back up and she jumps on her phone to book them a table while Rebecca books them a car service and Leslie calls his wife.

She’d only met Julie Higgins once in passing but she seemed like a lovely woman and the more connections she could give Michelle here in London the less likely she was to refuse to move at the last minute.  She just wished this was a weekend Katrijn was here to watch her son play, that would make the night even better.  

Charlton isn’t having a good season, 3 months after promotion and everyone is already predicting they’ll be relegated back to league one.  It doesn’t stop her boys from playing their very best and the Greyhounds run up the board.

Diederick scores his first hat trick of the season and the entire Richmond delegation leaps to their feet to cheer him on.

Sitting at the table Keeley booked for them at Callooh Callay in Chelsea, Rebecca orders herself ‘A gentle caress of the inner thigh’ to start the night off with while Keeley immediately requests a ‘Daddy Issues’, Julie has a ‘Poor life choices’ and Michelle decide to try a ‘Bees’.

The next morning she wakes up in her own guest room, dog piled in the bed with the other 3 women, grass in her hair and a wicked hangover.

If the photos and drunk texts she sent Matthijs are any indication they had a brilliant night out but It’s never discussed again.

They also repeat the night a number of times over the years.

They take the boys out of school for a few days in December to fly to Hoorne for Sinterklass.  Both Rebecca and Matthijs immediately pick up on a strange tension between Joris and Roosje.  Matthijs ends up taking his father out to the local pub to see if Joris will talk to him alone.

While they are gone, Rebecca notices some changes around the house.  Knick knacks and baubles that had spent the last 10 years in one place had been moved, what had once been matching shoes by the door were now mismatched.  The dishcloths are no longer stacked neatly in a drawer, instead scattered in different places.  Roosje’s once immaculately kept garden was a little ragged and not at all what Rebecca was used to.  It occurred to her that this hadn’t happened all at once and when she thought back over the last few visits she realises that whatever is going on has been happening for a while.  Possibly since before they moved to London at the beginning of the year.  It was the distance between visits that finally allowed her to see the changes.

Roosje had never mixed up her boys before but on this visit she called Romeijn, Matthijs more than once.  Rebecca has seen pictures of Matthijs at the same age and the resemblance is uncanny but neither Roosje or Joris had mixed them up in the past and she’s worried.

Matthijs doesn’t tell her what he and Joris discussed straight away, waiting until the children are all in bed and they are alone.

“Pa thinks it’s some kind of dementia…” he finally admits when they are curled up in bed together “but mama won’t go and see anyone or even admit something is wrong.  He doesn’t want me to bring it up with her either…” he shuffled down so his head was resting in her lap.  Rebecca didn’t say anything, just let her hand drift gently up and down his back.

“I know he’s right.  If I say something mama will just get upset which will start a fight and pa will need to take her side so she doesn’t feel cornered but then she’ll feel bad about the fighting which is what he doesn’t want to happen but I don’t think I can leave it alone… and what about pa, it’s not fair on him to be left alone to deal with all of this… and Imke, she’s off travelling again, who knows when she’ll be back.”

Rebecca adored Matthijs’ younger sister but she only ever came back to the Netherlands to earn enough money to go travelling again.  The last they’d heard she was somewhere in Laos.

When there is a long stretch of silence, Rebecca finally speaks “I can do it… say something to her, be the bad guy so to speak and then you can take her side and maybe she’ll open up to you…” she suggests quietly and she can feel him huff out a breath in thought and waits for him to respond.

“No,” he eventually says “That’s not fair on any of us either.  I think we’ll just have to wait and watch… maybe visit a little more often.  I know it’s hard with the boys in school and the match schedule…”

“Fuck the match schedule!” she interrupts him firmly “And the boys will be fine missing a little bit of school right now, it’s only reception and second year.  If you, if we need to be here more then we’ll work it out.”

Matthijs rolled over to look up at her.  He knew she wouldn’t make the offer unless she really meant it.  Years before he had worried that she was letting him have too much, and was giving up too much for him.  Erp had less than 2000 people that called it home and she had happily made a home there.  He had always promised himself that once he was retired it would be her time.  This was her time, to run the club, to use that brilliant mind and be in the spotlight.  He took the boys to school and picked them up, Jelka was with him when she had meetings and he worked all of his teaching flights around hers and the children’s schedule.  If he had to go back home more often it would leave her alone with the children while still getting the club back on its feet and one of them would suffer.  He knew she would pick the children every time, he didn’t want to force her into that choice.

They’d already discussed getting a part time nanny and decided against it for the time being.  They both knew that might change when the team was promoted and Rebecca needed to keep up with the premier league schedule.

It was Rebecca’s time and he would keep the home fires burning for her as she had for him for nearly a decade and that was the deal he made with himself and now she was offering to step back again and put his parents first.

“They’re coming over for New Years and Bastiaan’s birthday.  Let’s see how things go between now and then before making any decisions…” he says instead.

Rebecca lets it go for now, once they’re home and he’s had a few days to process they’ll discuss it again.

It’s a week before Matthijs brings his mother up again after a phone call with her.

“At the beginning she thought we were still living in Erp” he sighs “asked me if you were feeling better yet…”

With a trembling lower lip, Rebecca pulls him into a tight hug.

As hard as they try to keep it from the children, Romejin is old enough to notice something is happening and while Bastiaan and Jelka pick up on their parents' stress, neither of them are old enough to understand it.

They’re both reluctant to try and explain anything because they don’t actually know what’s going on.  

Instead they turn the children’s focus to the upcoming Christmas holiday and Rebecca distracts them with helping to put together the sacks full of gifts to be handed out on Christmas day.  It had taken her and Matthijs quite a bit of work when Romejin was smaller to work out how to keep them believing in Santa while getting them involved with this particular family tradition.

“We’re just pretending it was Santa…” they’d finally settled on “You get gifts from mama and papa and oma and opa and nanna and grandad… well their mama’s and papa’s can’t always buy them nice things like we can, so we help them out and pretend it was Santa so the mama papa don’t feel bad.”

Jelka had a good grasp of gift giving and receiving and the boys encouraged her to help them come up with wild stories to explain why the gifts from Santa were late.  She didn’t quite understand why they were doing this but that would come with time, just like it had with the boys.

Rebecca will never admit to anyone but Matthijs how surprised she is when Michelle flies in with Henry as planned on the 27th of December, but they do and the two of them are quickly settled into a flat halfway between Rebecca’s house and where Ted has been staying at Paved Court.  At the same time she is also unsurprised when Ted doesn’t move in with them.

Neither Ted or Michelle confide in her on exactly what arrangement they’ve come to and Rebecca can see how much Ted is struggling with it.  It was one thing for them to be separated by the ocean but another for his wife to be living 10 minutes away and not let him be there too.

“I don’t quit on people…” he’d told her multiple times and it told her volumes about him.

All through this the team was going from strength to strength, nipping closely at Leed’s heels for the auspicious spot of being at the top of the table with West Brom trailing behind Richmond.

Roosje and Joris’ visit over new years cements Rebecca and Matthijs’ worries about Roosje but there is still nothing they can do about it.  Joris still doesn’t want either of them saying anything to her and Roosje won’t admit there is anything wrong.  All they can do is organise their schedules to try and spend more time in Hoorne.  Rebecca quietly pushed any formal business to later in the week to give her Monday’s and Tuesday’s completely free, telling anyone who asked that it only made sense after spending most Saturdays and Sundays on club business.

With the benefit getting closer and closer, more of Rebecca’s time is spent refining the details.  She’s under no illusions that the night will be perfect, there’s no such thing but she’s done her best and is sure it will be enjoyable no matter what.

Leslie’s competence shouldn’t surprise her, but it still does and his assistance with getting the benefit planned is incalculable.

After another long evening of planning and attempting to get a start on the seating plan they’re walking out to the carpark discussing how the club and the players can leverage a better charity profile when a thought occurs to her.

“Leslie, what does a director of football operations do?” she asked, surprising him momentarily and she appreciates that he takes a moment to think before answering her.

“It varies from club to club I suppose.  I know a few DFO’s, in general they all do a lot of logistics, travel and scheduling arrangements.  Team and club strategic planning, facilities, player contracts.  I guess managing anything that happens off pitch… and they have a rather lovely jazz band that I can’t join…” he trails off wistfully.

Rebecca rolls all of that over in her head and regards him seriously for a long moment.

“So, everything you’ve been doing for me for the last 6 months?” her question causes that odd choking sound of his to return and she doesn’t wait for him to answer.  “Right, first thing tomorrow go and see Liz, she’ll have a new contract waiting for you, then call the other DFO’s and demand to join their jazz band.”

Turning on her heel, she walks over to the waiting town car and slides into the back before Leslie can react.  Pulling her phone out she quickly emails HR and instructs them to draw up a DFO contract for Leslie backdating it to the start of the season and confirming she’ll find the funds for his back pay.

Then she emails Leslie and makes his first order of business replacing himself and his second setting up an interview between Ted and Trent Crimm.

The reporter had been very even handed with his articles about the club in general and Ted in particular and she wanted to reward that.

“Ahh” The Monday before the benefit, Rebecca’s eyes lit up as Michelle stuck her head into the office after dropping Henry off with Ted “I was just about to call you, do you have a dress for the benefit this weekend?”

“I do, but I have three questions.  Where can I get a Rebecca endorsed sitter for Henry, where can I get my dress dry cleaned and can you make sure it’s appropriate?”

“Matthijs’ sister will be staying at the house with our 3, Henry is more than welcome to join them.  In fact, if you want to get ready at the house, let me know.  Bring the dress by the club tomorrow and I’ll send it off with mine and Matthijs’ suit and I couldn’t give a fuck about appropriate!”  Rebecca grins “if it makes you happy to wear it then go ahead.  Hell you could wear a tux if you wanted to.”

Michelle got a glint in her eye that Rebecca knew spelt trouble for someone… possibly her, most likely Ted and Beard.

“That’d be interesting for next year.  You and I in tuxes, Ted, Beard and Matthijs in gowns…”

Delighted at the concept, Rebecca nodded her head.  

“Or, there’s an LGBTQ+ benefit in June, Keeley and I have been talking about getting a table.  The five of us, Keeley’s boyfriend, Leslie and Julie, Beard and a plus 1, all of us in drag?  I’ll talk to the organisers, make sure they’re ok with it, I’m positive I can convince Matthijs and if Julie agrees Leslie will too.  Can you get Ted on board?”

“Absolutely!” that wicked grin is back but there’s something behind it.

“And, I’ll look right fit in a top hat and tails.” Rebecca looks back at her laptop and decides she’s finished for the day and closes it.

“Coffee?” She knows very well by now not to offer either Ted or Michelle tea and only does it to Ted to tweak him.

“Sure” Michelle comes fully into the office, closes the door behind her and curls up on the very inviting sofa.  She’d been in England nearly a month and for some reason hadn’t been able to line up schedules with Rebecca for the two of them to catch up without others around.  They’d seen each other at matches and school drop offs and pickups but never alone. 

Once the required beverages are in each of their hands and Rebecca is seated on the sofa she regards Michelle softly.

“How are you feeling about the move now that you’re actually here?” She finally speaks, but Michelle doesn’t answer for a long time, her gaze is fixed on the cloudy sky outside.

“Henry has settled in really well.” she finally speaks knowing that isn’t what Rebecca is talking about.  “Ending up in the same class as Romejin really helped, it turns out Roy’s niece Phoebe is at the same school, just in a different class.”  Rebecca blinked in surprise, she hadn’t known that.

“I still have a couple of units to finish to qualify to teach here.  Once I have them, I can register to be a casual teacher and I’ve applied to Kings College for my Masters.” Michelle takes a deep breath and finally turns to look at Rebecca.  “I don’t know how to reconcile moving to London for Ted only to ask him for a divorce when I get here…” Tears pooled in her blue eyes, Rebecca stayed silent but reached out and took her hand.  This explained why Ted was so scattered in the days following Michelle and Henry’s arrival.  Most people assumed it was just his excitement at being reunited with his family, she knew better now.

“God I loved that man…” Michelle whispered “He never wants to quit on anyone or anything… isn’t willing to walk past anyone without making sure they’re ok and he constantly tears pieces of himself off to give away to someone else and he never lets anyone see the damage and to get him to realise that it wasn’t quitting… it was letting me go, setting me free and it is such a weight off my shoulders… and I am so relieved…”

Rebecca didn’t know what to say, Michelle wasn’t the first person she’d known and cared for that had gone through a divorce and she was certain she wouldn’t be the last.  Was there even a right or wrong thing to say here?  She adored Ted, he was quickly becoming a good friend and someone she knew she could rely on and the more Michelle told her the more she became worried about the both of them.  At least she knew Ted had Coach Beard whom she was sure was looking out for him, maybe she should check in with the assistant coach under the guise of how he was settling in.

“I think I’m also lonely… I know I’ve got you… but you’re running the club and have 3 kids to chase after…”

“Hey, hey, hey…” Rebecca finally stopped her “Yes I have plenty going on but it doesn’t mean I won’t make time if I need to.  So how about you join the pilates class I do every Thursday evening.  Drop Henry here with Ted to spend the night, we can go together and then go for a quick drink and catch up afterwards…” Michelle nodded as her shoulders slumped in relief “Secondly, I’m going to ask you something, it’s a question I ask myself all the time and that’s, did you make the choice you can live with?”

“You know, I don’t think we ask that question enough.” Michelle’s eyes widened in surprise as she processed the question.  “We’re raised to look after everyone around us, to make ourselves less for them.  Not be selfish or do anything that might offend or hurt and to answer your question, yes I did.  I made the only choice I could live with because the other option was destroying me.”

“Then the rest will sort itself out.” Rebecca nodded firmly “Yes Ted is hurting right now, you both are and that’s natural and expected but all you can do is move forward.  Co-parent Henry and learn to live in your new reality.”

Matthijs raised his eyebrow “so you’d wear a suit and I get to wear one of your dresses?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, I’ll buy you something pretty to wear!” Rebecca retorted as she flicked through the different suit styles and colours on offer, missing the unamused look he gave her over the pot he was mashing potatoes in.

“Do I have to wear heels?” He finally asks and Rebecca knew she had him with that question.

“Only if you want to.  I’m sure we can come up with something that will look good with combat boots.” Rebecca finally looked up at him and burst out laughing at the glare he was giving her.

“If you don’t want to do this, I’m not going to make you dress up in drag, I promise.” She slid off the stool she had been sitting on and made her way around the bench and wrapped her arms loosely around his waist and waited.

“I’ll do it…” he puts the potatoes aside “Only for you and you’ll be paying me back in sexual favours.” he turned so they were face to face, noses almost touching.

Rebecca hummed and pressed a quick kiss to his lips “You don’t need to dress up for me to do you those types of favours…”

Just as his hands were making their way south to pull her closer and their lips were about to meet again the sound of smashing glass echoed through the house followed quickly by Bastiaan’s voice.

“Uh oh…”

Without even having to discuss it, Matthijs pulled out his phone to call their regular glazier and Rebecca went looking for the dustpan and brush as a football rolled lazily past them.

For all they talked about the event, they didn't end up getting a table that year.  Maybe in 2021.

The next day, Rebecca sees the perfect opportunity to have a chat with Coach Beard without Ted present when her assistant shows her his RSVP with both chicken and steak ticked.

Striding over to her window she peers through it and spies just the man she needs to speak with, throwing it open, she leans out.

“COACH BEARD!”

It takes a few tries to get his attention.

“CAN YOU COME UP TO MY OFFICE PLEASE!” Expecting her request to be followed immediately, Rebecca closes the window and goes back to the seating chart she and Leslie have been working on for nearly a fortnight.

Smirking to herself as he taps on her door 2 minutes later, Rebecca instructs him to close the door and take a seat.

“First thing, for dinner on Sunday it’s either chicken or steak, you can’t have both.” She looks at him expectantly.

“Okay.” is his concise response.

“So which would you prefer?” She huffs when he only shrugs “Fine, you’re having chicken” to which she receives a thumbs up.

“Alright then, secondly, do I need to worry about Ted?”

He was unable to hide his surprise as his eyes widened slightly and mouth opened and closed a few times as he processed the question and then tried to decide how to answer.

“I’m not asking for you to betray a confidence but I know what Michelle asked him for when she arrived.  I’m under no illusions that this is something he is going to grapple with for sometime to come.”

“Oh boy…” Beard finally speaks.

“Can I assume that as always, you have his back?”

“Yes ma’am.  And his front if needed.”

Rebecca eyed him suspiciously, unsure of if he was being purposefully obtuse.

“Fine then, let me know if I need to intervene, off you pop.”

10 minutes after Beard went back down to the pitch, Rebecca realised she needed to confirm who Ted’s plus one is.

Making her way back to the window, she reopens it.

“TED!”

Rebecca had been incredibly discerning when selecting their outfits, making sure her royal blue lace dress was complemented by Matthijs’ suit.

If the way jaws were dropping as they made their way up the red carpet to the photography pool were any indication then her efforts were paying off.

Ahead of them was Keeley and her boyfriend Jamie, while Ted, Beard and Nate were behind.

Squeezing Matthijs’ hand nervously, Rebecca took a deep breath and blew it out in an attempt to get rid of her jitters.  Since moving back to London, they’d attended a few events together but nothing that required them to be photographed.  There had been quite a few events that she had attended with Rupert and she’d hated every time she’d been required to stand on a red carpet and be photographed for the press and be picked over for every little thing.

Rupert hadn’t helped at all, what she had thought was noble blunt honesty was nothing more than his way of covering his own insecurities and putting her down.

‘Keeping you humble’ had been the exact phrase he’d used.

“You know something…” Matthijs tugged her hand gently as Keeley was dipped and kissed “I love your mind and your heart.  I love your temper and that filthy mouth that you’ve passed onto all 3 of our children.  I love your body and you’re still the sexiest woman I’ve ever met so if attending more of these events means I get to see you dressed up and making everyone seethe in jealousy at just how hot you are, I will gladly attend as many of these as needed.”

It was such a Matthijs thing to do.  Compliment, objectify and boost her ego all at once and a broad genuine smile split over her face.

They stepped in front of the press pool, as Keeley and Jamie stepped off, hand in hand and posed.  A little awkwardly at first but they relaxed into it when Keeley’s voice echoed over them all.

“Look at her, she’s fucking FIT!”

END CHAPTER 13

Chapter Text

February 2020

The evening was going smashingly.

Everywhere Rebecca looked, people seemed to be having a good time.

Her opening speech had gone over well, Ted’s pep talk by the bar giving her another reprieve from the nerves radiating through her entire body.

Knowing there were a number of people she would need to kiss the arse of during the evening, she had charged Leslie with ensuring that her table was only friends and people she wouldn’t have to put a front on with, which was how she ended up seated between Matthijs and Pim giggling at their very dutch colour commentary as she inhaled the incredibly delicious soup that she’d selected as a starter.

When they started mocking Cheryl Barnaby, she was relieved there were only 2 other Dutch speakers in the room.

“Wie is die geile oude zak?” (Who’s the horny old bag?) Pim nods towards her.

“Geen idee, Rebecca kan haar niet uitstaan.” (No idea, Rebecca can’t stand her though.) Matthijs replied and received a swift kick under the table.  At least her heel didn’t draw blood this time.

“Stop it!” she whispers while trying and failing not to laugh.

Peering around her husband, Katrijn caught Rebecca’s eyes and rolled her own at them.  Standing Katrijn kicks Matthijs out of his seat and shoos him over to hers so she and Rebecca can look at the red carpet photos while the boys gossip.

In between entree and mains, the first part of the auction started.  The MC engages the entire room and gets a solid response for Sam, Jack, Jeff, Tommy, Moe and Isaac.  After mains is served Diederick, Colin, Gareth and Roy will take their turn.

When she’s in the bathroom fixing her makeup before the main course is served, Rebecca catches Keeley’s attention.

“I just saw the red carpet photos online and thank you for telling me your trick for posing…”

“Glad to help…” Rebecca is immediately worried at Keeley’s uncharacteristically restrained reaction.  That and she’d seen the tense conversation between Keeley and Jamie at their table.  Keeley had shared the details of her relationship with Jamie enthusiastically so it was concerning to see her so down.

Turning to lean against the vanity, Rebecca regarded her friend.  Keeley never remained silent long and she had quickly worked out that if she waited silently, Keeley would start talking to fill the silence, it was something she had in common with Ted.  Sure enough, seconds pass and Keeley is speaking again.

“Can I have a sip of your drink?”

It wasn’t exactly what she expected, but she let her have one anyway.

“Oh, yes.”

“Thanks.”  Keeley makes her way over to where Rebecca is and sits in the chair next to the vanity.  “In anything else, I hate olives.  I think the little, like, orange clitoris thing is really freaky.” She takes a noisy sip and then asks a question that makes Rebecca laugh.

“Have you ever dated a footballer?”

“Sorry.  I shouldn't laugh. It sounds…” she searches for the right word “judgy.”

“No, it's okay. You are a bit judgy.” Rebecca doesn’t know whether to be offended or not, before she can decide Keeley pushes on “So when I was 18, I dated a footballer that was 23.  Now I'm close to 30, and I am still dating a 23-year-old footballer.” Keeley chuckles darkly “I'm Leonardo DiCaprio.  They are pretty fun though.  Simple, rich, fit.”

Rebecca studied her and wondered what Keeley was looking for and decided her fledgling friendship with Keeley was strong enough to handle a tough question.

“What about accountable?” she eventually asks.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I mean, everyone makes mistakes, but… I spent 2 years married to a man who refused to take accountability for a single thing” Rebecca mused as Keeley took another sip of her martini “And the last… god… nearly 10 with a man who takes too much responsibility, who takes accountability for things that aren’t his.  I know which I’d prefer any day.” She smiled gently and slid the martini over to Keeley and left the younger woman to her thoughts.

When she arrives back in the ballroom, Rebecca glances around, trying to find Matthijs.

Finally spying him by the bar, concern shoots through her at the tension in his shoulders and the tilt of his head.

She’s seen this before, mainly with mouthy young cadets who need to be taken down a peg or 3.  The last time had been at his retirement party and apparently he’d caught a few of the young men making inappropriate comments about her.  He never reacted well to that.

Not wanting to draw any more attention to herself than necessary, Rebecca calmly makes her way towards him.

He doesn’t see her approach but she hears the last part of whatever conversation is not going well for the man Rebecca can’t identify.

Matthijs smirked dangerously, he didn’t often need to come to Rebecca’s defense, she was more than capable of taking care of herself but she wasn’t here, so he would happily correct their assumptions.

“Yes, she’s been at home with the children, there’s nothing wrong with that, it was her choice.  It was also her choice to study and get her MBA while looking after the children.  Do you have an MBA?” He kept going as the idiot in front of him shook his head.  “While doing both of those things she was also volunteering for charities, working behind the scenes helping out with administration and events for them so they didn’t have to pay someone and could direct those funds elsewhere.  Have you done anything for charities other than throw money at them to make yourself look good?”

He waits a beat before firing his final rejoinder off “And she looks better in a skirt and heels than you do, trust me, I’ve seen the photos!” he hadn’t, he had no idea who this person was, just that he’d been mouthing off.

“Darling, there you are” Rebecca slides up next to him and he knows immediately that she heard what he was saying and has come to the most likely correct conclusion.  She smiles, but it is all teeth and shark like “and to whom do I have the pleasure of meeting?”

It turns out to be no one of particular importance and Rebecca promptly forgets his name as he walks away seconds after introducing himself.

Tucking an arm around his waist, Rebecca leans into Matthijs and accepts a gentle kiss while the bartender makes her another martini.

“Have I ever thanked you for that?” she asks quietly.

“For what?” He thinks he knows but doesn’t want to assume.

“For that…” she kisses him again “For never assuming or demanding.  For accepting my choices and supporting them and being accountable for your own?”

“Isn’t that what a good partner is supposed to do?” He smiled and studied her for a long moment wanting to give her more than that brief comment.  “Do you remember our second Christmas?  We went to the boxing day match and afterwards, it was the first time I mentioned retirement.  When you shrugged off my question about being ok if I stayed in until I got my 20 years?  Said you were happy as we were and you would support me if I wanted to stay or if I wanted to leave and you would tell me if that ever changed.  It meant so much to me that you left it up to me and I promised myself that I would always give you the same.  So don’t thank me for it, just keep being you, because you’ve done the exact same thing for me.” He rested his head against hers momentarily before changing angle just enough to kiss her.

“Zullen jullie ooit stoppen met vies te zijn?” (Are you two ever going to stop being gross?) they turned to see Diederick rolling his eyes at them with a grin.  Rebecca laughed and reached out to pick up her drink

“Nee hoor, hou je suf, jongetje!” (Nope, suck it up little boy!) She clipped him lightly in the back of the head as she walked back to their table.

“Je hebt ons al 10 jaar zien slijmen. Wanneer stop je nou eens met klagen?” (You've been watching us suck face for 10 years.  When are you going to stop complaining?) Matthijs picked up his beer and followed her.

Something odd happened during Roy’s auction.  Rebecca could see Keeley and Jamie arguing about something beforehand and then Keeley started bidding for Roy.  It struck her as strange as Rebecca had asked her outright if she was going to bid on anyone and Keeley had emphatically said she wouldn’t be.

Putting it to the back of her mind for now, Rebecca knew she would hear all about it later in the week when Keeley came to the club.

With the auction finally complete, most of Rebecca’s official duties for the evening were done.  All she had to do now was introduce the musical act and she could start to relax and stop counting her drinks.

Making her way back up to the stage, Rebecca glanced out at the crowd.  For a first attempt of the club to raise money for underprivileged children it had all gone smashingly.

All of their first team had put their hand up to be auctioned off for a date and Rebecca had thrown in a couple of experiences that had gone down well.  Over the next four weeks, the winning people would get to spend a match day with the team, watching warm up and training and then sitting in the owners box during the match.  Even Matthijs had donated a sunset flight for her to auction off which made them a nice amount.

“Hello everyone!” She stepped up to the mike and raised her arms to shush the crowd.

“First of all, I’d like to thank you all for coming out tonight in support of AFC Richmond and our desire to raise desperately needed funds for underprivileged children.  I’m still waiting on the final tally of what we’ve managed to raise tonight. As soon as it’s available we’ll be posting it up on our various social media platforms.  I’m also very pleased to announce that all proceeds will be split between two charities.  The NSPCC and Kidscape, there are information pamphlets available if you would like to know exactly where your money will be going.  I have also been working with the Make-a-wish foundation and have committed AFC Richmond to granting several wishes for children with terminal illnesses over the next 12 months…”

Her eyes met Matthijs’ as he smiled proudly and clapped with the rest of the guests, once it died down she spoke again.

“The formal portion of the evening is over and I’d like to introduce our musical act.  I thought about getting us someone big and flashy but then I was wandering down by Richmond Green with Coach Lasso one day when we came across an incredibly talented young man.  At Coach Lasso’s suggestion I decided to engage him for tonight's event, so without further ado, please welcome to the stage, Cam Cole!”

Exiting the stage to where Ted and Leslie were waiting for her, her smile was bright and giddy.  This night wouldn’t have been possible without the two men beside her, or the man who was making his way through the crowd, pride oozing from every pore.  When Matthijs finally managed to get to her, he wrapped his arms around her and pressed a kiss to her cheek.

“Mijn liefste, je bent geweldig en ik ben zo trots op je” (My love, you are amazing and I am so proud of you) was whispered in her ear before she turned her head to capture his lips with her own.  It doesn’t take long before she’s lost in the feeling of his hands on her waist and his tongue running along the seam of her lips requesting entrance.

She’s not sure how but eventually the sound of a throat clearing awkwardly cuts through the music, blushing, Rebecca pulls back and smirks at her partner before turning to the two men pretending to be studying the ceiling architecture.

“Gentlemen, your help with tonight has been invaluable.  Thank you and I appreciate you.  Go, have fun and take tomorrow off.” She tells them before dragging Matthijs off to the dance floor.

It’s nearly 11pm when the party starts winding down and a slightly tipsy Rebecca is standing outside thanking people as they leave while Matthijs supervises the last of the clean up for her.

She’s seeing off someone who she should probably know but doesn’t when Ted and Beard make their way towards her.  She could see that they were both a bit tipsy as well, Beard more so than Ted who grinned happily.

“You know Boss, you should throw parties more often!” Ted grins at her but the sadness he’s been unable to completely hide is still peeking through.

Rebecca let out a tired laugh “No thank you, once a year will be enough.  Again, thank you for all your help with tonight…" She waved them off and they headed towards the green and their flats just as Keeley was making her way down the stairs, two bottles of champagne clutched in her arms.

“Do you wanna go get like, really drunk?”

Rebecca didn’t even hesitate, Matthijs would understand and could get himself home “Yes I do…”

“Then we can go like, rob a bank or something?”

Taking out her phone, she shot him a quick text telling him she was getting drunk with Keeley and not to wait up and with a giggle climbed into the back of a tuk tuk.

The next few weeks fly by.  The team manages to win or draw every match, closing the gap with Leeds and boosting the team's confidence with every point gained.

They finally get word that Dani Rojas has finished rehab and will be able to start training with the team in mid-February.

It’s on that particular freezing cold mid February morning that Keeley comes into her office unusually hesitant.

“Hey babe… I just came over to check on you.  Make sure you’re ok?” The concern is radiating out of the younger woman.

“Course I’m ok” Rebecca stares at her, confused “Why wouldn’t I be?” 

Keeley’s face fell and Rebecca’s stomach dropped.  Whatever Keeley knew that Rebecca didn’t could not be good.

“I thought I’d be the one to comfort you, I didn’t think I’d have to be the one to tell you” she slid into the chair and took a fortifying breath, knowing no matter what Rebecca was going to be hurt by what she had to tell her.  If it was true, the destruction that followed would be far reaching.

“There’s a picture… in The Sun…”

“Don’t read The Sun!” Rebecca interjected, her heart hammering, she had just been waiting for a reason to ban that particular publication from her club.

“Right… shit…” Keeley took a deep breath, she knew this had to be done.  “It’s a picture of Matthijs… in a restaurant… with another woman…”

Rebecca didn’t even have a chance to process what Keeley was trying not to say, let alone respond before her office door flew open and a panicked Matthijs fell through followed quickly by an enraged Roy.

“It’s Imke…” he managed to get out before Roy grabbed him.

“You fuck…” the Captain tried to drag him back out of the office.  “Are you trying to fucking run her off for another 10 fucking years?”

She didn’t even know Roy cared.

“Roy, stop…” she held her hand up and turned to look at Matthijs, hurt and confusion radiating from her “What about Imke?”

“The photo, it’s from dinner with Imke last week…” he explains and Rebecca’s eyes slid closed in relief.  

“Roy let him go” she holds her hand out to Keeley, as she reopens her eyes and locks gazes with Matthijs.

Once a copy of the article is in her hand, she quickly glances over it.

“They really think you’re having a scandalous affair with your sister?” She attempted a lighthearted remark but all three of the others could see the hurt and anger it was hiding.

“Ew” Keeley and Roy both relax at the same time.

Matthijs is still watching her, he knows this isn’t her real reaction.  The explosion is building and he doesn’t want anyone else to get caught in the blowback.  He can handle it, he knows it isn’t personal and he knows what to do next.  The others would probably bluster around and try to comfort her without allowing her to truly work out and through her anger.

“Roy, is the team using the weights room today?” he asks.

“Not till the afternoon.” He confirms.

He cocks his head questioningly at Rebecca who nods and heads into her bathroom where she has a gym kit.

“Rebecca and I are going to the gym, she’s going to pummel me for a while, try and keep everyone else out of her way if you don’t want their heads ripped off.” He told the other two “I’m going to get my gym bag from the car, tell her I’ll meet her back here.  Can one of you watch Jelka?” He eyes the oblivious toddler playing by the coffee table.

On their walk through the club, no one can meet either of their eyes as they quickly dart out of the way.  Rebecca’s dark and furious countenance scatters them back with merely a glare.

As promised the gym is empty and after a quick stretch and warm up, they face off against each other Rebecca doesn’t even hesitate with a hard jab.  She doesn’t even aim for the pads and Matthijs has to move fast to get his hand in front of his face.

An hour later, Nate walked past the gym and peered inside to see Rebecca and Matthijs circling each other.  Both sweating and breathing hard, Matthijs had a set of boxing pads raised while Rebecca punched at them.

Roy had already made sure everyone knew the truth about the article and the photo.

What he didn’t expect to see was the tear tracks on Rebecca’s face and he certainly didn’t expect to hear her asking “why the fuck can’t they leave us in peace?”

Backing away quickly, he tries not to think about what she really meant.

Spending nearly 3 hours in the gym boxing with Matthijs had done her the world of good.

The rage she’d felt at the lies The Sun published had mostly been worked out and was now at a low enough simmer for her to function properly.

Once they’d showered and changed, the two of them made their way back to her office where Keeley was entertaining Jelka and working on a response for Rebecca.  She knew they couldn’t let something like this go and she didn’t want them to.

“Right!” Rebecca looks between Matthijs and Keeley as they eat lunch.  “What are our options?”

Keeley waits a beat to see if Matthijs wants to say anything first before speaking up.

“I have an idea that doesn’t involve the kids or the two of you taking part in a cheesy loved up photoshoot… admittedly I still think that’d be great but…”

“It’s not us.” Matthijs interjects, Keeley pitched them the idea regularly and they always shot it down.

“Yeah, we don’t need to stage anything for the two of you to be cheesy and loved up” she winked at Rebecca “Honestly, the best approach might just be the straightforward one.  Ted’s got a press conference about the match this weekend, go to it, someone’ll ask the question and you can respond and set the record straight.” she shrugs and settles back to give them time to consider her idea.

It’s always intriguing to watch them have a conversation without speaking.  That’s what happens after nearly a decade together, she supposes.

“What would you recommend I say?” Rebecca finally asks.

“Ernie Lounds, The Sun, I have a question for Ms Welton” While they’d made sure Ted knew the truth, they had decided not to warn him about their response if she was asked the question, knowing his genuine reaction would only work in their favour.  Stepping forward, Rebecca nods curtly for Ernie to ask his question.

“I was wondering if you’d care to comment on the photographs taken of you partner with another woman?”

Except for the sounds of the cameras clicking, the press room dropped into silence.  Rebecca could feel all the gazes burning into her.  Behind the desk Ted was stunned at the outrageousness of the situation and looked as though he was about to speak up.  Holding her hand up to silence him as she stepped forward, Rebecca took a deep breath.  Keeley had prepared her for this and her gym session with Matthijs earlier in the day had taken care of the initial rage.

“Perhaps you should have reached out for a comment before publishing the photo.” She smiles unpleasantly.  “The lack of journalistic integrity shown by the publication of the photographs and article is breathtaking.  I say that because, I remember that day and if the picture had been taken from a different angle it would show me sitting in the booth with them and if I’d been asked about it I would have gone on the record stating the other woman is my sister in law who was visiting us for the week.” She smirks as Ernie goes pale and the rest of the reporters turn to glare at him.  

“I’d go as far as to accuse both the photographer and yourself as the author of the article, Mr Lounds, of journalistic malpractice.  To deliberately choose a photo that can be easily taken out of context and to deliberately write an article with the intent to cause as much harm as possible?  That’s a new kind of low and it’s not welcome in my club.  Please see yourself out and hand over your press pass to Mr Higgins, you’re banned from the grounds and I’ve revoked The Sun’s privileges.”

At the back of the room, Keeley, Matthijs and Leslie stand proudly in silent support.

By the time Rebecca gets back to her office, her phone is already ringing, flashing up the owner of The Sun’s number.

After a moment's thought, she declines the call.  If Charlie wants to be a cock and let his paper treat her this way, she has nothing to say to him.

Knowing she won’t get anything worthwhile done, Rebecca leaves with Matthijs and plans to spend the rest of the day quietly at home with him and Jelka.

When the three of them walk down to the school together, Billie trotting by their side, to pick up the boys that afternoon, she can feel the eyes on her and hear the clicks of the cameras but she’s grateful that they aren’t approached.  At the school gates, Michelle gives first her then Matthijs a strong hug.

“Ted messaged me, I’ve already corrected a few assumptions” she whispered in her ear.

When they get home, they hustle the boys through an afternoon snack and getting changed out of their school uniforms and with a little over an hour of light left they slip through their backgate and into Richmond park on their bicycles.  With Jelka comfortable and warm against his back, Matthijs and Rebecca race the boys back and forth and round and round.  By the time they get home, the sun has set and they are all tired and hungry but happy, the short adventure exactly what they had needed.

The next day’s Sun has a spread of pictures of the 5 of them walking home together with the title.

Welton wages war on writers!

Rolling her eyes, she instead reads Trent’s version of events in the Independent and is treated to a much more balanced article.

According to Keeley, twitter and instagram had blown up in support of her and the backlash against the Sun was getting worse and worse with every hour that passed.

Hopefully it will all pass fairly quickly and the vultures will turn their attention elsewhere.

As for Rebecca, her attention is taken later that day, first by the news that Dani may have reinjured his knee and then by Sam’s arrival in her office.

She was quite flattered by the invite that evening to help them get rid of this so-called curse on the treatment room and his impassioned words when she demurred.

“I apologize, but I can't take no for an answer.  Coach thinks it will only work if the whole team is there, and Ms. Welton, it's your team.  So you have to be there, please.  At least think about it.”  He really is an endearing young man.

“I’ll think about it” is all she is willing to promise.

That afternoon when she brings it up with Matthijs, she is a little surprised by how impassioned he becomes about her going back to the club to participate.

“You can’t take things like this lightly, Rebecca,” he lectures and then proceeds to tell her stories of the different bases he’d served at and the types of curses they had on them.

Who knew the military and footballers had this in common.

That’s how she ends up in the dressing room listening as each of the players tell their story and drop their item in the bin.  When it is her turn she steps forward with the stiffened cardboard between cold fingers.

“I’ve kept a copy of the order of service for my sham of a wedding all these years as a reminder.  A reminder of where I’ve been and where I am choosing to go.  A reminder that the path may be hard and full of surprises but the destination must be my choice and no one else’s… a reminder to not allow anyone power over my choices and my path and I can choose who walks it with me.” She drops it in the bin.  “Fuck the haters!”

“Fuck the haters” the team repeats as though saying amen.  Little do any of them know, that particular phrase will become part of the Greyhounds lexicon for decades to come.

She steps back, meeting anyone's gaze who dares look at her.

Some of the stories they hear that evening are heartwarming, others are sad and others are downright ridiculous.

“This sand is from a beach in St. Barts.  This is the first beach where I ever… It's the first beach where I ever slept with a supermodel.”

Over the next few weeks, they celebrate Jelka’s second birthday, a draw and 2 more wins.

It’s the day before Matthijs’ birthday that the team heads up to Leeds.  He won’t be able to make the match, but is hoping to join her on the Saturday night after his sister and parents arrive to visit for the week.

Rebecca has the two of them booked in at a BnB in Filey for the Sunday and Monday nights for a quick getaway.

Keeley was a little worried about just how pensive Rebecca was on the flight up to Leeds.

Nothing specific had been said or done, it was just a feeling.

It wasn’t until they were in the hotel suite and the blushing doorman had made a hasty exit that Rebecca admitted what was on her mind.

“If he hadn’t died, it would’ve been our 13th anniversary… Rupert and I…” she blinks as she tries to sort out her thoughts.  “I love Matthijs, I love our children and our life and I don’t want to imagine who I'd be without them but every now and then…” she sighs and her eyes drift off to focus on the wall behind Keeley’s shoulder so she doesn't see the signs.

Before she could process it, Keeley had thrown herself forward and wrapped herself around Rebecca.

“He’s been dead for over 10 years but every now and then I stop and wonder what if.”

“Fuck babe…” Keeley finally lets go and steps back, Rebecca had told her enough about her brief marriage to Rupert Mannion to know that she wouldn’t be standing in front of the same woman if he had not died.

Shaking her head, Rebecca takes a deep breath “Nope, I’m not letting the fucker get back in my head.  We need to focus on the Leeds match, so let's order a bottle of champagne, get changed and relax and find somewhere to go and have dinner, yeah?”

They’re not in any rush, as they split up and go to their rooms at opposite ends of the suite.

The first thing Rebecca does is call down to the concierge for their champagne, unfortunately it hasn’t arrived by the time she’s in a comfortable robe and slippers.  Deciding to give it a bit more time, she quickly calls Matthijs’ who is attempting to corral the children and unashamedly uses the phone call from mama to get them all in one place and relatively calm.

How long they will remain that way, who knows.

It still hasn’t arrived when she gets off the phone, so she calls back down to see where it is and takes the opportunity to get them a table booked at the local steakhouse.

Admittedly, Keeley’s responses are a little bit strange so she heads back out into the living area to find her friend staring at the TV stunned as her own image is reflected back.

“Guests also have access to our state-of-the-art gym, filled with the latest in workout technology.  Like kettlebells!”

“Oh, my God.”  Rebecca drops to the sofa by Keeley’s side.

“Leeds has much to offer when it comes to nightlife.  From pubs and clubs, to the great Asian pastime of karaoke!”

“I don't even remember doing this.” Keeley can’t take her eyes off the girl on the screen.

“Right” Rebecca takes the remote from slack hands and turns the television off “Enough, this weekend is about having fun and living in the present.  When that champagne arrives we are going to get drunk and have a nice meal.  Alright?”

“Yeah, sounds good”

Both of their eyes light up when there is a knock at the door, assuming it is their champagne finally being delivered, but when she opens the door to a familiar brunette, Rebecca’s mouth drops open in shock as she comes face to face with her former best friend for the first time in nearly 6 years.

“‘Ello Stinky!”

So much for leaving the past in the past.

END CHAPTER 14

Chapter Text

March 2020

Later, Rebecca will decide that what hurts the most is the way Sassy pushed her way through the door as though she had a right to be there.

The way she walked in, the exact same Sassy who had walked out of her life, as though no time had passed at all.

In another life, Rebecca may have let her.  In another life where it was Rebecca that faded from Sassy’s life for one reason or another she would have welcomed her childhood friend and taken whatever was thrown at her.

That isn’t this life and that isn’t the Rebecca that stands at the still open door.

“Florence…?” Rebecca’s voice is hard as she interrupts something about still getting the big room.  Sensing the tension and seeing the anger bubbling in Rebecca’s eyes, Keeley stays quiet on the sofa.

Sassy turns around and sees the hurt and anger as well and knows she is the cause of it.  She knows that she won’t get anywhere with her usual show.  Rebecca has seen it too often and knows what it hides.

“Figured it was time to catch up.” She shrugs, feigning carelessness.

“Really?” Rebecca is in disbelief “After 6 years you decide, what the fuck I’ll go and see Rebecca?”

“Come on Stinky, don’t be like that.  You didn’t come see me either.”

“I’m not the one that stopped answering calls and replying to messages.  I told you I wouldn’t be reaching out again and the next move was yours.”  Rebecca snaps back and then takes a deep breath to centre herself.

“Look, we have dinner plans, you’re welcome to join us at The Restaurant at 8pm but right now isn’t a good time.  You can get the address from the concierge” Rebecca stepped forward and held the door open a little wide as a clear sign for Sassy to leave.

Rebecca almost caves when Sassy slumps in resignation, but she remembers that feeling of loss when all her attempts to reach out were met with silence.  She remembers the hopeful look on Romejin’s face whenever her phone rang.

‘Sass and Rah?’ he’d ask and start crying when she had to tell him no and Matthijs’ words when he had to comfort her later ‘I think I don’t like the way she speaks to you sometimes…’

Nodding her acquiescence, Sassy moves back to the door “See you at 8 then.”

When the door clicks closed again, Rebecca slumps against it with her eyes squeezed shut and Keeley watches her worriedly.

“Babe?” She finally asks.

“Flo Collins was my best mate when we were little.  She’s a brilliant child psychologist, mother to my 12 year old goddaughter, Romejin’s godmother and she disappeared from my life nearly 6 years ago.  When I called to let her know I was pregnant with Bastiaan she just… disappeared and I never found out why.”

“And just now is the first time you’ve seen her since?” Keeley asked softly.

“Yes…”

If she was entirely honest, Rebecca was incredibly grateful for Keeley’s presence as a buffer between herself and Sassy.

The fight that was brewing between them would not be pretty and despite it being 6 years in the making Rebecca wasn’t sure if she was ready for it, ready for the truths bubbling below the surface to come spewing out.

Sassy spends their entire meal, telling stories and pretending nothing is wrong while Rebecca smiles stiffly and occasionally contributes.  When the food is finished and Sassy slips out for a cigarette, Rebecca gulps down the last of her wine and regards Keeley for a moment.

“Amazing isn’t it how time can change the stories we tell and how a single event can be remembered by two people so differently.”  She doesn’t say how much time can change your perspective, how much it can change your view of someone.

Keeley nods and smiles sadly, Rebecca had warned her to take Sassy’s stories with a grain of salt.

Pushing back from the table, Rebecca heads to the bathroom and to take care of the bill.  A part of her wants to send Sassy away, another part wants to keep her close and she isn’t sure which will win.  For now, she invites Sassy to the match with them the following day in the hope she’ll be able to find the courage to confront Sassy and Sassy will find the courage to tell her the truth.

The win against Leeds United was a massive coup for the team.  They were the top team in the EFL Championship and the favourites for promotion this season and Richmond beating them 3 to 1 put them in an incredibly good position going into the final 5 weeks of the season.

When Rebecca arrives in the dressing room after the match with Keeley and Sassy in tow, the celebrations are loud and boisterous.  She’s needlessly introducing Ted and Sassy who had apparently run into each other the night before when Roy gets up on one of the benches.

“Oi!” he yells, causing the entire room to pause and look at him “Listen up!  None of you are going back to the hotel tonight.  'Cause we did something today that no one thought we could do, including us!  So, we're going out, we're celebrating, and we're gonna rub it in this city's fucking face!”

“Roy! Roy! Where are we going?” Rebecca thinks it’s Sam that asks.

“Keeley?” he pulls Keeley up to stand next to him, who rolls her eyes but throws her arms out anyway.

“Well, Leeds has much to offer.  From pubs to clubs to the great Asian pastime of…”

The entire room screams out “Karaoke!” together.

Someone, she’s not sure who finds a club that has everything they’re looking for.  Karaoke, food, drinks and dancing and she pays an exorbitant amount to reserve one of the private rooms for them.

By 8pm they’ve all changed and are converging on the club.

Once inside, Rebecca hands her card over to the bartender and sets up a tab for their drinks then makes sure she only gets top shelf gin for the rest of the night.

Two hours and more than a few drinks in, Arlo and Declan are at the microphone and Rebecca is returning from the bathroom when two arms wrap around her from behind.  It’s only Keeley’s look of delight that stops her from throwing her elbow into their nose and instead turns around to find Matthijs grinning at her.  When she’d spoken to him earlier in the day, his parents' flight had been delayed and he wasn’t sure he’d get up to Leeds that evening.

With a tipsy shriek, Rebecca wraps her arms around his neck and presses her lips to his.  When his hands grip her waist just so, she knows what he wants and with a little jump, her long legs are wrapped around his waist and he’s pressing her against the wall and her tongue is slipping inside his mouth.  

So lost in each other, it takes some time for the catcalls and whistles to penetrate.

When she does finally pull back slightly and look over Matthijs’ shoulder, it seems like the entire team is staring at them wide eyed.  They were always shocked to see such open and carefree affection from the owner and her partner.

She didn’t see Sassy’s glare from the back of the room.

Tucking her head down so her mouth is next to his ear she hopes only he can hear her “I’m so fucking happy you’re here.  I don’t think I could survive Sassy without you much longer.”

Someone, Matthijs she suspects, puts her down for a song.  It feels brilliant to surprise everyone when she starts belting out ‘Let it go’.  The stunned yet delighted looks on the team's faces gives her a boost of confidence.

Just as she hits the chorus, she notices Ted pushing himself up from his seat and stumbling out of the room, catching Matthijs’ gaze she can see he’s caught it too but Beard hasn’t.

Matthijs slips out after him and by the time Rebecca has finished the song and managed to extricate herself from the crowd and get outside, the two men are sitting on the curb.  

Ted looks terrible.

Sliding down onto the curb beside him, Rebecca wraps an arm around his shoulders.  She can feel the way his breaths are coming fast and uneven. 

“I don’t know what’s happening to me…” he finally manages to stutter out to no one in particular.

“Looks like a panic attack” Matthijs murmurs, he seldom spoke of it, but he had seen this multiple times in the military, especially when he’d been deployed.

Rebecca hears him and wonders for a moment if Ted does as well or if the noise in his head is too loud for anything to truly penetrate.

“Am I goin crazy?” he finally asks.

“No more than anyone else.” Rebecca pulls him close “There we go, you’re alright” 

The three of them sit there in silence, on a cold and wet night in the middle of Leeds.  

“I think I need to call it a night.” Ted eventually manages to speak.  “Gonna go back to the hotel and just get a good night's rest, you know?””

“Would you like us to walk back with you or do you want to take my car?” Rebecca immediately asks but is waved off.  They promise to let Beard know where Ted is and worriedly watch him walk off into the night.

“He’s not ok” Matthijs murmurs under his breath.

“Not even close to it.” Rebecca agrees “But he’s got Beard and Henry and us and we’ll keep an eye on him.”

“Yes we will.” He takes her hand and leads her back inside.

Hours later, when they finally stumble out of the club Rebecca and Matthijs beg off going to another club with any of them.  All Rebecca’s drunken mind really wants to do is take Matthijs back to their hotel room and ride him until his eyes roll back in his head.

And given the way his hands are squeezing her arse and pulling her close, he feels exactly the same  

Making sure Keeley will be ok, Rebecca lets out a shriek when Matthijs gets impatient and lifts her over his shoulder to walk towards their car.

“Hang a sock on the door or something…” Keeley calls out, wondering if she should find somewhere else to sleep for the night.

With a giggle, Rebecca salutes her and Roy over Matthijs’ shoulders.

“I bet they’re into some really fucking kinky shit…” Roy grumbles in her ear.

“Yeah they are!” she waggles her eyebrows at him.

They don’t rush, meandering their way through the dark and wet streets of Leeds, Keeley chattering most of the way with Roy occasionally grunting out an opinion.

When she gets back to the suite, surprisingly alone, she notes it’s not actually a sock on Rebecca’s door knob but a lacey silver g-string that matches the sparkly top she had been wearing.

Smirking, she makes her way to her own room and if she’s ever asked she’ll pretend she wasn’t listening in.

Roy was right, they are kinky fuckers.

When Rebecca wakes up the next morning, dull light is streaming through the open curtains, she’s still naked and draped over Matthijs.

Her body is dotted with bruises and bite marks from thigh to neck and when she pushes herself up she smirks at the scratch marks down his back.

He’ll be feeling that for a few days.

Leaving him to sleep, she heads to the bathroom and steps into a steaming hot shower.

The morning passes quietly, they send Keeley home on the bus with the boys and have a leisurely brunch together.

“This is going to be really fucking unpleasant…” She warns Matthijs as they wait for Sassy to arrive, Rebecca having finally agreed to hear her out. 

“I know, I also know no matter what is said, you’re going to be a mess afterwards.”  He’d agreed to wait in the bedroom and not interfere unless it appeared as though one of them was going to physically harm the other.

Just after 10:30, Sassy knocks on the door and Rebecca lets her in.

“So, how many gremlins have you popped out now… 5, or is it 6?” Sassy sneers slightly as the door closes behind her, still on the defensive from Rebecca’s coldness towards her over the last 24 hours.

“3, which I know you already knew.”  Rebecca rolled her eyes, knowing exactly what Sassy was doing “I was pregnant with Bastiaan the last time we spoke and Jelka turned 2 earlier this month.”

Sassy paused and realised Rebecca wasn’t going to rise to that particular bait, in fact she wasn’t entirely sure how to deal with the Rebecca in front of her.  6 years had changed both of them and bridging the gap would be difficult if not impossible 

Years ago Rebecca would have been the first to speak, the first to try and cross that bridge, now she sat silently staring at her former friend, one well manicured eyebrow raised in expectation.

“I came to see you…” Sassy finally spoke when the silence became too uncomfortable for her to bear “Fuck… 4 years ago but you weren’t there, the guy who answered the door said he’d been living there nearly a year.”

“We moved to Hoogerheide when Bastiaan was a few months old…Matthijs was transferred…” Rebecca quietly tells her.

“So of course you followed along…” There's something about the tone of Sassy’s voice that raises Rebecca’s hackles.

“Yes I did, because that’s what you do in a relationship. Sometimes you compromise and sometimes you sacrifice, do you really think London is his first choice of places to live?  Absolutely not but I sacrificed a hell of a lot over the last 10 years so he could finish his career and he is willingly doing the same for me now!” She took a deep breath in an attempt to calm her temper but the derisive look on Sassy’s face didn't let her.  “And considering you haven’t been around to witness our life or our relationship you don’t get to judge us.”

Sassy rears back as though slapped, Rebecca had always been the apologist and peacemaker in their friendship.  The woman standing before her was neither.  There was nothing left for Sassy to say but the truth.

“I was jealous ok, you call me out of the blue and say your pregnant again, tell me what you think is a cute story about forgetting to pack the condoms for a weekend away… it hurt and I didn’t know how to tell you… four years… that’s how long we’d been trying for another baby and nothing worked I’d finally accepted that Nora was going to be an only child and here you were telling me you got pregnant again without even trying… it hurt.”

Rebecca’s mouth dropped open at the shouted admittance.  She’d suspected there was something like this, it had been the way she had been congratulated on her pregnancy with Bastiaan. 

“Firstly, I’m sorry you went through that, that you were suffering, I’m sorry that you felt you couldn’t confide in me, couldn’t come to me…” Rebecca took another deep breath “but how dare you punish me, punish my son and your daughter because you were jealous, for weeks everytime my phone rang he asked if it was Nora and Sassy.  He adored the two of you and we both grieved your absence.  How dare you turn up after all this time and treat me as though I was the problem…”

Sassy stepped back in shock at Rebecca’s anger.

“You’ve always done this, attacked me and punished me when your life is out of control, and don’t try and play it off as ‘I’m mean to beautiful women’.  Do you think I would have judged you?” Rebecca snapped again “Turned on you?  For fucks sake Florence…” she shook her head her anger draining out of her as fast as it had come “Do you know something?  It’s been years since I actually missed you.  There was a time I would have done anything, absolutely anything for you and then one day I realised I missed the idea of you and when I realised that I realised, I had people already in my life that filled that gap.  I don’t need you…” Rebecca took a deep breath and stared Sassy right in the eye “and I’m not sure I want you… Nora will always be welcome in my home and my life but you… unless you can come back to me with something more than you destroying 25 years of friendship over something I had no control of and no knowledge of then I don’t want to hear it.”

Rebecca managed to hold herself together until they reached the BnB in Filey, Matthijs watching her worriedly the entire hour and a half drive.

Working her way through this new iteration and new information would take time and he was willing to give it to her.

When they were seated in front of the lit fire, glass of wine in hand, she looked at him with glassy eyes, tears slowly dripping down her cheeks.

“All these years, I suspected it was something like this.” She finally speaks after a long stretch of silence.  “That it was something that neither of us had any control over.  You and I have been so lucky, our babies have come to us so easily and I can imagine doing the same if our places were reversed… having to pull away just to survive.  What I can’t imagine, what I can’t see myself doing is blaming her and staying away.”  Perhaps if her life had gone down a different path and the red thread of fate unspooled a different way the roles would be reversed…

She drops into silence and Matthijs lets it hang, only the crackling of the fire and their breathing breaking it.

“I’m sure I’ll find my way to forgiving her one day…” Rebecca drains her wine glass and refills it again, staring into the fire the whole time.

April brings the final weeks of the season and the team are riding the high of defeating Leeds.  They rip through QPR, Luton and Barnsley with little to no effort and it starts to look as though they’ll be able to overtake Leeds for first place.

Something starts, then stumbles and starts again between Keeley and Roy and Rebecca watches it all with wry amusement hoping this will be something good for both of them.  Since that day in her office when he needlessly threatened Matthijs on her behalf she and Roy had spoken a few times and had the beginnings of, if not friendship then good acquaintanceship.  Perhaps friendship will come in time.

She and Ted never talk about what happened outside the club in Leeds but she continues to watch him carefully.  Michelle was right, he gives and gives and gives, tearing pieces of himself off for everyone else and never takes something for himself.

Rebecca and Matthijs decide to celebrate their 10th anniversary by returning to Monaco but they can’t seem to get the timing worked out.  Neither set of grandparents is available and Imke has disappeared off to India so they put a pin in the trip and try to find dates later on in the season break that work for everyone.  It doesn’t help that the high season is coming up, meaning just about everything is booked out.

Perhaps just a quick trip down to the yacht for a long weekend.

She should be looking forward to their all but guaranteed promotion and the break that comes afterwards but something is draining Rebecca.  Possibly the stress of running the club and the approaching seasons end along trying to keep up with the children, possibly some type of virus she’s picked up.

Possibly something else… she begins to think as Easter passes, then a week before the final match Rebecca and Jelka arrive home from the club later than usual and Matthijs could see immediately the strain was weighing her down.  Richmond was a hair's breadth from getting back into the premier league.  On some level, it didn’t matter how the team played, they were guaranteed promotion, on another level they were out to prove something.  Prove they deserved it and for that they needed to overtake Leeds for first place.  Matthijs wouldn’t be surprised if Ted and Beard were showing it as well.

If they drew or lost, it was second place for them.  Ironically for Leeds, it was a bi week for them so it was all down to how the Greyhounds played against Sheffield Wednesday.  They’d beat them once, they could do it again, especially with the match being played at Nelson road.

Sending Jelka into the living room to play, he grabs her gently by the elbow and pulls her into a tight hug.  At first she stands stiffly, unable to let go of the tension but eventually she heaves out a shuddering breath and wraps her arms around his waist to lean against him heavily.

“I feel awful…” she eventually whispers.

“Go, have a bath and relax…” he presses a kiss to her temple “or do you want something to eat first?”

“I just want to sleep…” She admits, the mere thought of food sends her stomach into spasms and after several more minutes she pushes away and starts to make her way up to their bedroom, taking the time to stop and check in on the boys and spend a few minutes each with them.

Rebecca is mostly asleep by the time Matthijs comes into their room but she stirs when the ensuite light comes on.  She listens as he uses the toilet and the sound of the tap comes on then the light buzzing of his toothbrush and she knows the exact moment he found the surprise she left in there.

Several more minutes pass before he comes out and sits down on the bed beside her, reaching out he runs gentle fingers through her hair and see’s she’s still awake enough to talk.

“I’d honestly started to wonder if it would happen again… the other 3 all came so quickly or unexpectedly…” he murmurs, they’d never had an issue conceiving before and they hadn’t used contraception since getting back from America the previous summer.

“I had visions of Jelka starting school and then getting a big surprise” she reaches up to take his hand as he huffs out a laugh “but I’d be 45 by then and probably would have called it.”

Leaning down, he pressed a gentle kiss to her lips and then climbed into bed behind her and wrapped his body around hers, his hand drifting down to cup her lower belly.

The next morning, they get the boys off to school and spend a few hours going through the NHS website to work out the differences between the Netherlands and the UK for maternity care and set everything that they need into motion.

Going back through her calendar, Rebecca raises an eyebrow at him “If my calculations are correct, guess what we did on your birthday?”

“That was a good night” he leered at her.

“Keeley still thinks we’re kinky fuckers and while she’s not wrong, I’m not sure I can take the dirty jokes when she finds out this baby was probably conceived that weekend.”

Throughout the rest of the week it starts to become obvious that she isn’t well.  At their morning biscuits with the Boss, Ted watches her with worried eyes, noticing immediately when she doesn’t bite into the shortbread with the same gusto.  It’s also telling when she leaves Jelka with Matthijs, struggling to keep up with work and a 2 year old in the office.

Unlike when she’d been pregnant previously, she didn’t have the option of setting her own schedule at home.  No one had noticed when she worked odd hours, whereas at the club, nothing was missed.  Rebecca supposed she could simply work from home again, but something told her to be at the club.  It was important that she be present and seen.

The reality is, she only needs to get through the next two weeks and then she’ll be able to spend most of the rest of the first trimester at home.

She thinks Leslie has an inkling as to what is going on, fortunately the man is smart enough not to bring it up.  Instead, he sends a message to Matthijs asking the other man what he can do to help.

The response he gets is an instruction not to wake her if he catches her napping, as far as Leslie is concerned this is common sense and not at all helpful.

That Saturday, knowing it’s going to be a long evening, Matthijs slides out of bed and closes the bedroom door behind him, leaving Rebecca fast asleep.

On his way out, he pockets her phone, that way he can screen any calls or messages and only wake her if it’s urgent.  Everyone who counts has his number as well and if she doesn’t answer or call back they’ll call him.

It’s nearly 10am before she stumbles down stairs, her complexion an ashy green and he worries she won’t make it through the match without having to go and throw up.

Fortunately, once Rebecca gets something in her stomach, she rallies and the worst of the nausea passes.  When the 5 of them arrive at Nelson road just after 2, she still looks a little off but much healthier than she did earlier in the day.  It doesn’t stop Michelle, Keeley and Leslie from worriedly eyeing her.

The match starts out well, Dani scores in the first 10 minutes and then Diederick just before half time.  Sheffield Wednesday managed their only goal 50 minutes into play but the Greyhounds responded with two more in quick succession from Moe and Richard.

With 15 minutes of match play left, Sheffield manages to slip a striker through and he’s speeding up the pitch.  Over confidence had left the Greyhounds in all the wrong places to intervene, Diederick and Dani are fast but have too much ground to cover and she knows they won’t make it.

Surprisingly it’s Roy who manages to run the striker down, Roy who had been plagued with injuries for the last two seasons, who had been getting slower and slower.  The whole club could see just how bad it was getting, the whole world could and the only person who wouldn’t admit that Roy Kent was struggling was Roy Kent.  So seeing him running down an opponent 15 years his junior was astonishing.

“Come on ROY” Keeley grabs her hand and clings to her as she tries not to jump to her feet.

Romejin, Bastiaan, Henry and Terry have no such compunction and are hanging over the railing jumping up and down. 

Just outside the box, Roy finally catches him and slides forward in a beautiful tackle, both men tumbling to the ground.

Too much time passes after the Owls striker has bounced back to his feet and Roy is still lying on the ground. Sam is the first to reach their captain and to a roaring crowd helps his mentor to his feet.

He’s here!

He’s there!

He’s every fucking where!

ROY KENT!  ROY KENT!

“Well, we apologize for the fruity language as the crowd serenades Roy Kent with a song that's echoed through the Premier League for more than a decade… And he's getting up.”  

“Roy Kent will never leave on a stretcher.”

“As Kent comes off, he claps the fans in gratitude. Kent has been a fan favorite because he always left everything he had out on the pitch, and he did so tonight.”

Beside her, Keeley jumps to her feet and disappears into the lounge and Rebecca has no doubt she is headed to the dressing rooms to check on him.

Rebecca knows deep down that the next time Roy stands on the pitch it won’t be as a player.

When the final whistle was blown, Richmond has maintained their lead and wins the match 4 to 1.

“God I need to vomit…” Rebecca whispers in Matthijs’ ear as he wraps his arms around her, lifting her feet off the floor as the stadium around them erupts in joy.

Dressed in their Richmond kits, Leslie takes the four little boys down to the pitch to celebrate with the team.  Henry is hoisted on his fathers shoulders, while Deiderick takes Romejin, Bastiaan is with Isaac and Terry ends up with Zoreaux.

Jelka had long before passed out in Julie Higgins lap and didn't stir.

It takes over an hour for everything to settle down enough for the team to meet in the dressing room for a final debrief from Ted.

“Y’all played a heck of a game out there.  We went out there strong and confident and proved we’re the top team in the league…”

Rebecca doesn’t just watch Ted, but she takes a moment to lay eyes on the players as well.  They are all silent and listening intently to their gaffer who knows very little about proper football but so much about people.  She can see how much they respect Ted and Beard.

“Take your rest and in 6 weeks the real work begins.  Let's celebrate now. Let's celebrate together and then we can be a gosh-darn goldfish.

“Onward. Forward.”

It was remarkable how this man from Kansas could rally a team around him with nothing more than empathy, positivity and belief.

The celebrations are still going strong when Rebecca and Ted slip away from the crowds to have a quiet chat in her office.

“Tea?” she asks.

“No. Tea and I are still on a lifelong hiatus, yeah.  I'll take a little water though, please.”  She pours him a glass of pellegrino and finishes making her own tea.  Rebecca does know better than to offer that particular drink to Ted, but she does enjoy tweaking him every now and then.

And what she wouldn’t give for a celebratory glass of champagne!

“While the result was as expected, it was still a thrilling match.” She sits opposite him on the sofa “What are your plans for the break?”

“Henry has a few more weeks of school until his… What do you call it?  Half term break?” Rebecca smiles and nods.  “Michelle and I have agreed that we’ll stay here for this one and then she’ll take him back to Kansas for a few weeks in August.”

“Ahh, any grand adventures planned?” 

“No ma’am, me and Henry are just going to play tourist here in London.”

“That sounds like a marvellous time.  Matthijs will be taking our 3 camping in Kogerstrand for a few days, he’s still trying to convince me I’ll enjoy it if I go…” she scowls slightly “It’s not working and I doubt it ever will.

Ted studies her carefully. “Sounds like fun, maybe I’ll see if Henry and I can make a couple of weekend trips during the break.”

“Indeed…” she sips her tea and then places the cup down “Onto business.  The next season is currently scheduled to start on the 8th of August.  The players will be returning to start training by the first week of July.  In the meantime, I’ve sent you a list of players who have indicated they are either retiring or transferring, I have Leslie working with the scouts to identify replacements.  Once we have a list of potentials we’ll need to sit down and work through who we want.  Leslie and I both have our thoughts but at the end of the day you’re the manager and will have the final say…” she paused and regarded him for a moment “Finally, don’t be surprised if Roy is added to that list.  If he officially retires we need to decide what our next steps will be.”

Rebecca doesn’t see it coming… Instead of answering her Ted reaches out to pick up his glass of water and takes a huge gulp not realising it’s sparkling water.

The water explodes from his mouth and coats her entire face.

“The bubbles!” he exclaims and then looks up “I’m sorry, did I get you?”

Stunned beyond comprehension, Rebecca can only nod.

END CHAPTER 15

Chapter Text

May 2020

The week that follows Nelson road is a ghost town with only a skeleton staff on site.

If she is honest, Rebecca is grateful for this as it means that when she wanders in around lunchtime having slept as long as her incredibly sensitive stomach will let her and then spending an hour or two in the bathroom, throwing up whatever she had managed to get into her system, there’s no one there she needs to put on a show for..

With each day that passed, it was taking longer and longer for her to get out of the house and Rebecca knew from experience that in another week or so she would be at the peak of her morning sickness.  There would be very little hiding just how sick she was and her best option would be to hide herself away if she wanted to keep the pregnancy under wraps for the time being.

Enough people were already suspicious, Beard was bringing her ginger tea, Leslie had taken the initiative to handle a number of meetings that she really isn’t needed for yet and she is positive Ted is reporting back to Matthijs on her well being.

All that being said, they manage to complete everything they need to.  Leslie and legal will handle the offers they’ve decided to make, Ted and Beard have convinced her to promote Nate to assistant manager and the three of them will spend a week or two planning and strategising before taking a well earned break.

At the end of the week, Roy informs them of what they’ve known since he limped off the pitch and watching him cry in front of the camera’s formally announcing his retirement sets off both Rebecca and Keeley.  She hadn’t meant to cry along with them but the baby hormones floating through her body mean all of her reactions are slightly left of normal.

All of Ted’s overtures about joining the management team  are met with silence, grunts or fucks and Rebecca quietly tell’s Ted to back off for now.  Roy needs time, once the season starts and he’s had time to rest and process he might be a little more open.

Once she’s completed all of her official duties Rebecca heads home, where she plans to hibernate for the foreseeable future.

When half-term break rolls around at the end of May, the idea of spending most of the week alone doesn’t sit well with Rebecca, so at the last minute she packs her bags and slides into the car with Matthijs and the children.  Rebecca spends the week either lying in the sun or sleeping while Matthijs takes Romejin, Bastiaan and Jelka on adventures all around Kogerstrand.

Maybe camping isn’t as bad as she thought.

When she returns to the club a month after they were promoted, physically she is feeling much better and while the nausea and exhaustion hasn’t fully abated it is nowhere near as bad as it was.

Rebecca is also rather astounded to see her tight work skirts are in fact too tight already.  Having spent the last few weeks in more forgiving outfits this was quite the surprise.

Just on the cusp of the second trimester, the midwife has confirmed everything looks perfect so far but she hadn’t expected this so early.

Admittedly, once she thought about it, she remembered that she had started showing earlier and earlier with each successive pregnancy so it shouldn’t be that much of a surprise.

“Fuck!” she exclaims, causing Matthijs to stick his head into the dressing room to see what is wrong.  Rebecca stands there in a bra, stockings and a skirt that won’t do up.

Cocking his head to the side, he studies her figure “Ahh, baby is making itself known.”

It wasn’t much, if he didn’t know what he was looking for he wouldn’t be able to see it.  He wouldn’t see the slight widening of her hips and the gentle curve of her lower belly, just enough to have her flicking through clothing options.  Her hourglass figure had always been stunning and she knew how to dress to take advantage of her perfectly proportioned body, early pregnancy enhanced the curves just enough to take it up a notch and Matthijs would never apologise for appreciating it.

Normally, Rebecca would give the same in return but not when she was still feeling off and trying to find something to wear.

“Maybe a dress with a little more give…” she muttered under her breath, feeling his heated gaze.  Stopping to look over her shoulder, she glared at him “no more comments from you, you horny shit.”

It would be another few weeks before she made it to that magical middle section of pregnancy where her energy came back, she wasn't yet feeling unbalanced and unwieldy and the brilliant combination of hormones left her hair shiny, skin glowy and overall horny as hell.

Finding a pale green dress that was made of more forgiving material, Rebecca let the skirt drop to the floor and kicked it to the side.  It wouldn’t be worn again until over a year after the baby is born.

Over the next two weeks, Nelson road slowly comes to life as people start trickling back in from their breaks.

Once the players return from their breaks the first week of July, preparation for the upcoming season is in full swing.

After the bonus’ had been paid out of their first place prize money and she set aside what was needed for signing bonus’, Rebecca had sunk the rest of the money into the facilities.  Desperately needed repairs and upgrades were made to both the training and match day pitches as well as starting the process of replacing the seats in the main stadium.

It was part of Leslie’s long term strategy for the club and Rebecca had been impressed with the plan he presented and promised him the funds for these projects over the next few years.

And if Rupert’s picture happened to get lost or damaged while the hall of owners was refurbished, there was nothing she could do about it.

It was also that week that Rebecca knew she was out of time.  At nearly 15 weeks pregnant, there was no hiding it from her friends anymore.  Admittedly, she was fairly certain Keeley was the only one who hadn’t caught on, having been working on the continent and then gone on a short holiday with Roy since the end of the season.  Ted and Leslie were both fathers and knew the signs and Beard had an odd 6th sense.

“Holy shit babe!” Keeley stopped short as she stepped through the door and saw Rebecca in person for the first time in over a month “What the fuck have you changed, cause that hair and that skin is fucking amazing!”

Rebecca manages to get away with not answering her question by squealing and wrapping her friend into a tight hug.

The two of them settle down on the sofa and start exchanging stories of what they’ve been up to which eventually rolls around into Keeley and Roy’s sexual exploits which the younger woman then uses as a way to steer the conversation to Rebecca and Matthijs.  She’s always trying to get Rebecca to share more details.

“The way I heard you two going at it in Leeds…?” Keeley smirked “That was a proper, back blown out, walking funny, ploughing!  I needed a cigarette at the end.”

Rebecca blushed and then smirked back, knowing Keeley would hold the next piece of information over her head for eternity and not caring “Pretty sure that was the night he got me up the duff again…” and then she waited.

It was incredibly amusing to watch as Keeley whispered the phrase back to herself, eyes darting back and forth, processing the news.

“Holy shit Rebecca!” the younger woman squealed and then threw herself at Rebecca.  “He got you pregnant with drunken birthday shagging!”

“I told you his penis is exceptional!”  Admittedly she had been rather drunk when admitting that to Keeley, Michelle and Julie.

“So when is the newest collab due to arrive?

“I’m not quite 15 weeks, so mid December”

“Stand up so I can get a proper look…” Keeley jumps back and tries to pull Rebecca to her feet, who lets her with a fond smile and then lets Keeley spin her in a slow circle and study her.

“I can’t quite…” she frowns until Rebecca is completely side on and then she sees the gentle outward curve and drops back down to the sofa..  “Fucking hell…”

“Quite so…” Rebecca smiled again and sat back down.

“Is this like an ‘oops baby’ thing or were you trying and didn’t tell me?” Keeley reaches out a hand to rest it on her belly.

Rebecca hums as she tries to work out how to explain it.  “We weren’t actively trying for another baby, we just weren’t doing anything to prevent it” she finally settles on “I’m a little old for getting pregnant without assistance and we are more than happy with the three we already have so we left it to the universe.”

Keeley nods, the explanation very Rebecca and Matthijs.

“Was it like that with all of them?”

“Romeijn was planned, we had a conversation” Keeley didn’t need to know the conversation was Rebecca saying she wanted a baby and Matthijs saying ‘ok’.  “I went off birth control and he was on his way a few months later.  Bastiaan and Jelka… I like to call them semi planned.  We’d decided to start trying for a second once Romeijn was two, I was 6 months pregnant on his second birthday as for Jelka…” 

Keeley almost stopped Rebecca there, there was a look on her face… a look of pain and longing.

“I had a miscarriage just after Bastiaan’s second birthday.” She finally admitted, Keeley being the first person outside of Matthijs and medical professionals she tells about the miscarriage “when I fell pregnant with Jelka I hadn’t said out loud that I was ready to try again but…”. She takes a deep breath and shrugs.

“So while we hadn’t sat down and said time for another baby neither of them were completely unplanned, just a little sooner than we thought… and this one here, I’d honestly started to think I wouldn’t get pregnant again but they’re more than welcome to join the madness.”

“Hmmm” Keeley smiled again “I’m so happy for you two, you're like the perfect couple.”

“Ha!” Rebecca couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled out of her “We are not perfect.”

“Oh no?” Keeley fires back “You’ve made it 10 years, this is your fourth baby that I’m guessing isn’t an attempt to fix something and you have wicked good sex which I’ve personally witnessed!  What about your perfect relationship which I am so jealous of is not perfect?”

Rebecca opened her mouth to reply but then Keeley’s words sunk in and she took another moment to think about what the younger woman was really saying.

“We’re not perfect” she finally reiterates “Not as a couple and certainly not as individuals but… even when we fight we choose each other…”

“What do you mean?” 

“Well, Joris, Matthijs’ father, once said as long as we remember it’s us against the world we should be able to work through anything and he was right.  We chose each other, if I needed to I’d walk away from Richmond in a second for him.  What’s amazing is that he knows it, accepts my willingness and will fight tooth and nail so I don’t have to… when we were first talking about starting a family he asked me if I’d be ok if he stayed in the Air Force until he got his 20 years.  What he didn’t ask, what I didn’t let him offer to do was to retire early.  I made sure he knew he didn’t need to do it for me, if he wanted to retire early I would support him but it wasn’t a requirement for us to start a family or continue the relationship.” Rebecca pauses wanting to confide in her friend, without giving away too much. 

“That day in the wine bar I found a partner who supports my choices, he’ll ask questions and happily discuss anything to make sure we’re on the same page but at the end of the day he trusts me to do what is best for my own mental and physical health and vice versa.  We are willing to prioritise each other over anyone, including the children when needed.  There are times when in order to take care of my three monsters, first I need to take care of Matthijs and vice versa.  There were days he would get home to absolute chaos, screaming children and mess everywhere and the first thing he did was check on me and there were days he had nothing left to give so I gave him the space he needed to regain his equilibrium.”

Across from her tears welled in Keeley’s eyes.

“Did you never think about getting married?”

“We discussed it several times and as I’d already had the big religious ceremony and Matthijs is solidly agnostic we decided it wasn’t for us.  We have what’s called a registered partnership in the Netherlands which is very similar to a civil union and without all the pomp and circumstance.  Neither of us are interested in changing that.” She shrugged and leaned back and studied Keeley carefully.  “What brought all this on then?”  This conversation had become much heavier than Rebecca anticipated, she leans back and pulls Keeley with her so the younger woman and leaning against her shoulder.

“Roy and I… we’ve been together a couple of months and… I want this to work, you know?” Keeley finally admits.

“You and Roy aren’t Matthijs and I.  You’re different people to us, you each come to the relationship with your own histories and baggage which makes things different so the only advice I can give you is the same advice Joris gave us.  Make sure it’s you and Roy against the world and not each other…”

“Yeah, I like that…”

Throughout the day, Rebecca officially tells Leslie, Ted and Beard the news and extracts promises to keep it to themselves as she wants to tell Julie and Michelle herself.

That afternoon, she and Michelle meet up on the green with their boys after school.

While the boys run around, she and Michelle sit on a bench and catch up.

“You finally going to tell me your news?” Michelle smirks, having worked out Rebecca was pregnant weeks before.

“If you’ve worked it out for yourself, do I really need to tell you?” Rebecca fires back immediately causing Michelle to laugh.

“Yes, because I can suspect but unless you tell me…”

“Oh alright then, this is me officially informing you that I’m pregnant.”

With a happy squeal, Michelle wrapped her arms around Rebecca who laughed in delight.

A deep dark part of Rebecca wonders how Sassy would react to the news.  She hadn’t heard from her former friend since that night up in Leeds and she suspected she wouldn’t.  Technically the ball was in Rebecca’s court and she wasn’t ready to do anything yet.  She didn’t need Sassy, she just needed to decide if she still wanted her.  Now wasn’t the time so she put it away for later.

As the opening matches of the season approach the entire club is befuddled to see that every single pundit has Richmond coming last and being relegated again.

Beyond befuddlement, Rebecca is enraged.

“Bloody hell!  All of them. All of them have us finishing last this season.  Every newspaper, every television pundit, every lonely middle-aged sports-blogging loser writing in his mother's basement.”

Leslie opened his mouth to comment, but closed it again, deciding she didn’t need to know about Terry’s sports blog.

Their first match against Brighton is an away game, and with the boys on summer holidays they drive the whole family down for a long weekend.

The nil-nil tie is a little disappointing but better than an outright loss and Ted reports back that the team is still trying to find its rhythm with Isaac as captain instead of Roy.  Rebecca is honest with him that she doesn’t really care where on the table they finish so long as they aren’t relegated again.  It’s a rebuilding year for them.

Their visits to Hoorne are getting harder and harder to cope with.  Everytime they go and see Roosje and Joris it is clear that Roosje is getting worse and it’s not until they are visiting one day and Romejin comes in from the backyard with a screaming Jelka in his arms that things are brought to a head.  Handing his little sister over to his father, Romejin tells them that ‘Oma scared Jelka’, Rebecca and Matthijs finally confront her.

From a distance in the backyard, Roosje had mistaken Jelka for Imke and while Rebecca couldn’t fault her for the mistake, Jelka had the same colouring as her aunt but up close her facial structure was more Rebecca.  It was when the little girl had run up to her, Roosje had panicked thinking her own daughter had gone missing and in the process terrified her granddaughter.

It broke Rebecca’s heart that it had come to this, but she’d always been able to trust Roosje with the children and if she couldn’t anymore, Roosje needed to know and needed to know why.  Matthijs doesn’t stop her from confronting her mother in law over it and it seems that this is enough for Roosje to finally admit that something is wrong. 

It’s weeks of tests and doctors visits and sporadic updates from Joris before they get a definitive diagnosis.

Alzheimer's disease.

While still in the early stages, it’s a heartbreaking diagnosis and Rebecca once again offers to step back from the club so they can spend more time with his parents.

When she is again refused, she instead starts looking into care homes in London and quietly pulls Joris aside during a visit at the end of August.

“Say the word and I’ll move the two of you to London.  We have excellent doctors and care facilities and if something happens we’re not a plane ride away.”  She doesn’t mention money, she doesn’t need to.  Joris understands that implicit in the offer is her willingness to pay for everything.

He doesn’t take her up on the offer immediately but he also doesn’t immediately turn her down which she takes as a win.

Throughout August and September, the baby continues to grow and make itself known, and Rebecca and Matthijs continue to prepare for their family to increase in December.  Romejin and Bastiaan start years 3 and 1 respectively and settle into their new classes well.  Romejin and Henry Lasso are joined by Phoebe in Ms Bowen’s class.

The team starts to settle a bit more, their confidence boosted by beating West Brom, Sheffield and Wolverhampton, tying with Crystal Palace and Tottenham but losing to Man City and Leicester.  

The losses weren’t a surprise but managing to tie with Palace and Spurs was astonishing.

Knowing it can’t hurt, Rebecca approves Leslie’s request to bring in a therapist for the team.  They offer Sharon Fieldstone a 6 month contract to start with and if everyone is happy Rebecca confirms she’ll make the position permanent.

It doesn’t take long before they start seeing the effect she is having on the individual players, but for some reason Ted doesn’t react well to Dr Fieldstone's presence at the club.  She suspects it’s nothing to do with the woman herself and everything to do with her profession.  From what both Michelle and Ted have told her in confidence she knows his experience with therapy hasn’t been good and it’s showing in his attitude.

What is also astonishing is the conversation Rebecca has with Keeley and Ted in mid October.

It was late in the afternoon and she’s chatting with Ted about the schedule for the next few weeks when Keeley sticks her head in and asks to talk to them

“Oh!  Ted, good, I was wanting to speak to both of you.”

Waving her friend in, Rebecca refuses to get up from the sofa, at not quite 7 months pregnant she felt it was her right to sit exactly where she wanted to and stay seated out of comfort.

Keeley takes a deep breath, her gaze darting between Rebecca and Ted, she visibly steels herself.  “So you remember my ex, played for Man City, yeah?”

“Jamie Tartt?” Rebecca confirms “walked away to do a reality TV show at the end of last season?  Pissing off Man City because he walked out on months of negotiation for his new contract?”

Keeley cringed “that’s him, he kinda found me at lunch today, apparently he’s having trouble finding a team to play for and wanted to know if I could put in a good word for him with the two of you…”

Rebecca’s first instinct is to refuse outright.  Between the stories she’d heard from Man City’s owner and Keeley herself, she worries Jamie Tartt is the wrong personality for their team.

In this however, Ted is the more level headed of the two of them.

“From what I’ve heard he’s an ace striker, might be just what we need.  Two aces is never a bad hand to hold.” Ted looks between them “but I also thought ya’ll had rules about who can move where and when?”

“You’re not wrong on either point.” Rebecca admits “Having another striker of Dani Rojas’ calibre would absolutely be a boon and there are rules about transfers but I assume Jamie is a free agent, meaning we wouldn’t need to involve Man City to bring him onboard.  I’d need to double check with Leslie but I believe he would also be unable to take the pitch until the transfer window so even if he did sign with us he couldn’t play a match until February.”

She winces as a tiny foot or elbow jerks into her kidney.  This was not the pleasant part of pregnancy.

“He’s not a bad bloke, not deep down.  He’s just a bit lost.” Keeley shrugs “I think he could do really well here once Ted gets in his head”

“Ted, perhaps you should meet with Jamie and Leslie.  Get to know the young man, Leslie can clear up any questions about the rules and start the initial negotiations to see if there is common ground.” Rebecca winces again as a foot or elbow hits the exact same spot but this time it stays there, a constant painful pressure.

“You ok there Boss?” Ted looks at her concerned as she shuffles and presses at different parts of her belly, trying to get the baby to move.

“This stubborn little thing insists on shoving their tiny feet and elbows into my kidneys.” Her fond smile belying her words.

Keeley’s whole body shudders and an odd trilling sound erupts from her mouth as Ted nods knowingly.  Michelle had complained about the exact same thing with Henry.

“I’m sorry, I love you and I’ll love the baby but it’s downright freaky.” Keeley did not cope with feeling the baby move much to Rebecca’s amusement.

“That’s nothing, wait until they’re bigger and you could take a plaster cast from the little foot that’s sticking out.” She laughs again at the horrified look on Keeley’s face.

“How much longer until they’re due to take the field?” Ted asks.

“Pitch” Rebecca corrects automatically “and around 10 weeks but mine tend to run a little early.” Rebecca admitted “Romejin came at 38 weeks, Bastiaan, the impatient little shit just got over the line into early term instead of preterm and Jelka just missed the 38 week mark so don’t be surprised if this little one arrives any time in the first two weeks of December.”

As sinfully comfortable as her sofa was, Rebecca knew another couple of weeks and she would struggle with getting up from it so she was enjoying it while she could.

“I can not wait…” Ted’s excitement was palpable “There’s nothing like snuggles with a brand new baby and we’ll be over there to say hi quicker than you can say ‘cookies and cream’!”

“Yeah, anything you guys need, I will not be leaving that waiting room until I see for myself you guys are ok and meet the newest member of the family.” Keeley agreed from her spot leaning against Rebecca who paused and went back over their comments before realising both of them would need to be told specifically her and Matthijs’ expectations.

“No visitors in the hospital.” She quickly informed them both.  “In fact, we probably won’t even tell anyone when I go into labour, in the past we’ve only told our parents, everyone else has found out once we’re home… and don’t just turn up at the house.  Matthijs won’t even let you in the front door for the first two weeks unless I give the go ahead, which I won’t by the way.  Once we’re settled and our parents have visited I’ll message you and organise a time for you to visit.” She keeps her voice firm.  Seeing them about to protest she pushes on.  “It’s not just about the baby, we'll have 3 other children that we’ll be helping to adjust, battling round the clock feeds and trying to find a new rhythm as a family.  Having visitors before we’re ready, no matter how well loved or well intentioned, will not help.  If our parents can wait two weeks to meet the baby, so can you.”

The disappointment is palpable but Rebecca remains firm.  As much as she loves Ted and Keeley this isn’t something she’s willing to move on.

That Saturday, Rebecca and Matthijs end up with 20 little boys and girls from Romejin’s class and cricket team running around their backyard.

Firmly in the terrible twos Jelka causes havoc when she first tries to get at the gifts and then throws a tantrum when she isn’t allowed to help blow out the candles on Romejin’s lego cake.  Ever the peacemaker, Romeijn offers to let her help but Matthijs merely picks her up by the back of her little dungarees and carries the raging toddler off much to the amusement of the other adults in the room.

“Het is oké mama, ik vind het niet erg dat Jelka helpt.” (It's ok mummy, I don't mind Jelka helping.) Romejin blushed and whispered in Rebecca’s ear, not liking all of the attention on him.

“Dat weet ik, maar ze moet het leren.” (I know, but she needs to learn.) Rebecca whispered back as she relit the candles.  Still kind and sensitive, she worries about her eldest and his gentle nature.  She knows how cruel the world can be and how easily he could be taken advantage of.  His attitude towards his younger siblings and how far he’ll go to make sure they are happy is both a blessing and a curse as far as she is concerned.

“Let’s try that again, without the dramatics.” She smirks at the room at large as another wail echoes from wherever Matthijs had taken her.

Slipping out the door, Deborah goes to find him and take over toddler duty, not wanting Romejin to miss out on having his father there for cake and presents.

Bastiaan is on his best behaviour for once and without being prompted, follows his Nana to help distract Jelka.

Late that night when all of their guests are gone, Joris and Roosje have gone back to their hotel and Deborah and Paul are helping to clean up, Deborah finally manages to get her daughter alone.

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on with Roosje?” she asks gently and is stunned when Rebecca looks at her, initially astonished, then her face crumples and she bursts into tears.

Despite Roosje’s request to keep what is happening quiet, the entire story comes pouring out of Rebecca’s mouth in the face of her mothers genuine concern.  Everything she didn’t want to put on Matthijs shoulders, which were already carrying so much.

Deborah and Roosje were never going to be best friends but they had found common ground in Rebecca and Matthijs.  All those years ago, the first time she had seen how much Roosje fussed over Rebecca had been a relief and with every year that passed she could see the subtle influence of the de Graaf’s on her own relationship with Rebecca.  The closer Rebecca grew to Roosje and Joris the more she reached out to her own parents and was willing to let Paul and Deborah try to repair what they broke, when it could so easily have gone in the opposite direction.

For that, Deborah would do anything for the other couple.

As her fully grown daughter cries on her shoulder, just like her granddaughter did earlier in the day, Deborah tries to decide what to do, how she can help and she’s at a loss.

Maybe Tish will know, Tish hasn’t steered her wrong yet.

Late the following week, Leslie arrives for their morning meeting.

“Ted and I met with Jamie Tartt again yesterday.” he sat down across from her, it was the second meeting between the 3.

“And…?” She prompts having kept her opinions to herself on the young player wanting him to have a fair shot with Ted and Leslie.

“A very talented young man that no one else will touch.  Man City has made sure of that, which I suspect you already knew…” 

Rebecca nodded with a faint smirk and wondered if she should be worried about how perceptive Leslie was and how well he knew and understood her by now.  Still an awkward, stuttering man but a good friend and fantastic Director of football operations.  She’d already reached out to Man City and had both their DFO’s and Pep’s opinion on Jamie, she needed to decide who she was willing to listen to.

“And?” she prods slightly, not wanting him to tell her what he thinks she wants to hear.

“Could we use a striker of Jamie’s talent?  Absolutely.  Do we have the space in both the roster and the budget for him, yes.  We wouldn’t even have to wait for the January transfer window as we only have 23 players.” He paused, obviously trying to decide exactly how to phrase his next point “Will he fit in on a cultural level?  Hard to say.”

“That’s what I was worried about.” Rebecca admits as she slumps back in her chair.

END CHAPTER 16

Chapter Text

October 2020

It’s Nathan who comes up with the idea on how to see if Jamie will truly fit in with the team.

“Why don’t we just invite him to a couple of training sessions?” the assistant manager had quietly asked Ted.

When Ted had brought the idea to her, Rebecca readily agreed and when Leslie had called Jamie with the suggestion he had agreed as well.  Listening in on the call, Rebecca is struck by just how arrogant the young man is but there’s an undertone of something else she can’t quite identify.

The first day he’s there things go abysmally.

Dani is as kind and welcoming as ever, Sam and Diederick do their best as do Colin and Isaac but Jamie’s belief that he is better than everyone else on the pitch doesn’t go down well.  When he tries to claim Richmond needs him more than he needs them it makes things worse.  The part that Rebecca doesn’t find out for months is his bullying attitude towards the clubhouse attendants and assistant managers and while it is quickly nipped in the bud by Beard and Isaac, she is still concerned that no one thought to inform her.

It’s not until the 3rd day they see something else from him.  The thing that they hadn’t been able to quite divine but had all been looking for.

Late in the afternoon, Rebecca is up in her office with Bastiaan and Jelka, when she goes into the outer office to speak with her assistant, Bastiaan takes it as his opportunity to open the window and slip through it and makes a beeline down to the nearly empty pitch.

When Rebecca comes back a few minutes later and spies the open window she knows exactly what has happened and is just relieved Jelka hasn’t attempted to follow her brother.  She really needed to remember to lock the windows when Bastiaan was at the club.

Leaning out the window, she takes a breath to yell for her younger son to get his backside into her office when she sees him speaking intently to Jamie, who for the first time had something other than derision on his face.

Pausing, she watches as Jamie kneels down to Bastiaan’s level and patiently talks to her son.  Then the two of them walk a little further out and Jamie starts to gently kick the ball towards Bastiaan for him to practice first touches, calmly coaching and correcting the five year old.  Giving praise all the way through, not an angry or frustrated word crossing his lips.

In that moment she sees what Keeley sees.

Reaching for her phone, she fires off a quick message to Leslie, then flicks it over to the camera and starts to film the interaction.

Look out onto the pitch

She doesn’t film for long, just long enough for Leslie to respond and have something in her backpocket if necessary.

Interesting development

About 10 minutes pass before Jamie looks up and sees Rebecca watching them.  Smiling and nodding her head she then points at her wayward son.  Watching the happiness shutter from Jamie’s face and his arrogant mask come back shocks Rebecca more than expected.  Jamie then gets Bastiaan’s attention and nods up to the owners window.  Turning and seeing his mother watching the little boy grins and waves, smiling back at him she crooks her finger and he obeys immediately running back up the stairs.  Seeing Jamie still watching her warily Rebecca crooks her finger at him as well.  With a shocked gaze, Jamie points at himself in question and looks around for someone else but Rebecca nods and crooks her finger again.

Jamie catches up just as Bastiaan reaches the window and scrambles up the sill and throws his arms around Rebecca’s neck.

“Did you see mama?  Jamie helped me with my first touch!!”

Letting out an oof as Bastiaan’s body hits hers Rebecca grinned and hugged him close.

“I did see, I even got a couple on video so you can show papa when we get home.”  She balances him back on his feet on the sill and turns him to face Jamie who looked downright baffled.  “Did you say thank you to Jamie?”

The widening of bright blue eyes tells her he did not and he knew exactly what was expected of him.

“Thank you Jamie!”

“You’re welcome little lad.” Jamie reached out and ruffled his hair.

“Can you teach Henry as well?” Bastiaan continued “But not Romejin, Romejin doesn’t really like football…” Rebecca had to hold back a laugh.

“Henry is Coach Lasso’s son and Romejin is this one's older brother and Bastiaan is correct, he’s not a fan of football.” Rebecca explained to clear up Jamie’s obvious confusion “I only called you up to make sure he’d thanked you and warn you that you’re locked in now.  He will nag you at every opportunity.”

‘Oh this is a very complicated young man’ Rebecca thinks when a flicker of happiness shows through at sharing his love for the sport with the boys.

So much for simple, fit and rich.

Make the offer, I’ll sign off 

She instructs Leslie later that evening.

It would be years before Jamie admitted to her that he was initially worried about Bastiaan that first day.  Worried he was being forced into football but didn’t actually enjoy it, especially when Rebecca mentioned filming it for his father.  

Rebecca had unknowingly calmed the worry with her comments about Romejin, but he still watched and listened and decided as long as it was Bastiaan seeking him out and not the parents forcing it they were ok and he didn’t mind helping the boys.  It took Bastiaan mentioning off hand that his parents kept offering other sports and activities to do but he was insistent about playing football.

The stories she eventually hears about James Tartt means she never truly wonders why he felt that way.

The biggest surprise of October is Nora Collins sitting outside in the carpark one morning when Rebecca arrives at the club.

It takes a few long seconds of them staring at each other for recognition to sink in.

If anyone asked, Rebecca would blame hormones for the moment her eyes filled with tears and she opened her arms to hug her goddaughter.

In some respects, she thought of Nora as her first baby and Rebecca had missed her more than she could put into words.

“Hey Aunt Stinky” Nora mumbles into her chest.

Hustling the 12 year old into her office, Rebecca sits them down on the sofa and lets Nora lean against her and decides she needs to put her responsible adult hat on first.

“Do either of your parents know where you are and why you’re not at school?” 

“Dad thinks I’m home sick today…” she mumbled “As long as I check in every now and then and am home by 5 he’ll never know…”

Rebecca hummed, somewhat impressed by the deviousness “The part of me that regularly skipped school with your mother is proud.  The mother in me would be furious if any of my children pulled such a stunt and wants to call one of your parents immediately to let them know you’re safe with me.”

She didn’t have to actually do anything as her phone buzzed with an incoming message.

She’s not as sneaky as she thinks she is.  I followed her the entire way, let me know when she’s ready to head home.  Darren

She quickly replies, acknowledging the message and promising to let him know when Nora will be heading home.

“The cool godmother is winning and as long as you tell your father exactly where you’ve spent the day when you get home, I’ll allow this.” She waves her hand between them and pulls Nora in for another hug.

The next hour or so is Nora filling Rebecca in on her life and admitting she’s eavesdropped on a conversation between her mother and grandmother, which was how she discovered it wasn’t Rebecca who had abandoned them and decided to seek her godmother out.

Not wanting to damage the relationship between Sassy and Nora, Rebecca hedged the topic when asked.

“It’s not my place darling, you’ll need to talk to your mother about it.  What I will say is that you are always welcome to come and visit me and if you’d like, get your Dad to call me and we can organise another visit and you can meet Bastiaan and Jelka and see Romejin and Matthijs again.  How does that sound?”

The grin that lights up Nora’s face tells Rebecca everything she needs to know.

They spend the day quietly, telling stories back and forth about their lives over the last 6 years in between bursts of work for Rebecca.

I’m dropping her off at Richmond station for the 2:45 train.  Call me tonight.

Watching Nora walk away from the car and into Richmond station, she spies Darren and waves who waves back and trails after his daughter.

No matter what else anyone says, she knows Darren loves his daughter and will do anything for Nora.  Their conversation late that night bears that out as well as gives Rebecca a lot more context for what Sassy was going through all those years ago.

Her heart broke for Sassy all over again, but she still wasn’t ready to forgive or forget.  Not after how much their children were hurt in the fallout.

As the final week of October goes past, Rebecca hands over the last of the critical day to day tasks to Leslie.  Unless it’s urgent, she’s not planning on coming back to the office until at least February and needs to make sure he’ll be able to handle everything in the meantime.

It’s also that weekend Jamie plays his first match as a Greyhound.

It’s easy to see he hasn’t quite gelled with the rest of the team yet, so much so that Ted benches him for the last half of the match and Rebecca doesn’t blame him.

Even with all of that, the Greyhounds manage to get a draw with Aston Villa and Rebecca and the other owners graciously congratulate each other on the clean match.

“I’m not sure I can cope with another away match.” She quietly admits to Matthijs on the drive home late Sunday evening “I’m not even sure I’ll cope with a home match.  I feel like I should be there for the team, but it’s just so hard right now…”

Matthijs knows better than to say anything in response.

She manages to make it to their home matches against Liverpool and Man United which they lose both.  With a little less than half the matches played, the Greyhounds are solidly in the lower half of the table, but they’re in the top half of the bottom half and Rebecca is happy with that.

The day before her birthday when Rebecca woke, the house was eerily quiet.  Before she could check the time or even move an intense contraction rolled through her entire body.  Breathing in deeply through her nose she tried to count the seconds as she let the breath out through her mouth.

She’s positive she’s miscounted when she gets to 68 seconds…

As she’s rolling over to check the time Rebecca notices the slightly damp patch on the mattress beneath her and swears slightly under her breath.

Finally getting her gaze on the clock the reason for the quiet house sinks in.

It’s 8:45, Matthijs will be doing the school drop off.

Grabbing her phone, she sends him a quick message.

Having real contractions, water may have broken.  Getting in the shower, hospital when you’re home.

Knowing Matthijs will take care of stripping the bed for her, she slowly makes her way to the ensuite undressing as she goes, leaving a trail of clothes for him as well.  Just as she is turning the knobs to get the water going another contraction starts.

This time the count is 70 and the short time span between contractions makes her skip most of her shower routine.

By the time she’s dried off and wrapped in her robe, the baby's head feels as though it’s between her knees and the contractions are on top of each other.

Rebecca manages to focus long enough to send Matthijs another message.

Get home now calling ambulance

Rebecca will never remember the details of the conversation she has with the poor 999 operator.  She does remember the calm and comforting voice coming through the speaker as she leans her elbows onto the bed and bears down.

There’s a familiar burning sensation but she knows what to do, her body has done this 3 times before and she remembers well that what she’s feeling is the head.

She doesn’t hear the front door open, or the footsteps on the stairs.

She does feel Matthijs’ warm hands on her back and his breath in her ear.

“I’ve got you, let’s get you to the car.”

“No time…” she manages to grunt out “get a towel and a blanket, you’re catching”.

Using the bed to keep herself stable with one hand, she drops into a squat and groans out a push and her right hand cradles the baby’s head and then Matthijs is back his hands beside hers.  She groans again as the shoulders follow the head which allows the rest of the tiny body to slide free.  

Pulling the slippery body to his chest as Rebecca falls to the side and rests against the bed, Matthijs quickly rubs the baby down, making sure to clear the fluid from the face and nose like the midwives had done with their older children.

The three of them start crying at the same time and Matthijs quickly places the baby on Rebecca's chest and covers them both with a blanket and his robe.

It is several long moments before the tinny voice from the speaker of her phone penetrates.

“Rebecca?  Rebecca?  I need you to respond… Can you hear me?”

“Yes…” she calls back weakly “I’m… we… we’re both here…” the kitten cries from the baby start to die down."Yes we are…” she coo’s and runs gentle and practised fingers down the still damp and bloody cheek and she takes a quick peek “my little girlie…”  Grabbing the phone from the bed, Matthijs slides to the floor beside Rebecca and pulls her close as he puts it to his ear and fills the operator in on his timely arrival.

Tucking the baby close, Rebecca groans as another contraction ripples through her abdomen, too tired to care she slumps further into Matthijs and tries to listen to what he is saying.

Yes the baby seems to be breathing ok.  Yes they are safe and warm.  No she doesn’t appear to be bleeding anymore than she did during her previous births.

While doing this, familiar movements from the baby resting on her chest start.

“She’s rooting…”

Several minutes later it appears she’s worked out what to do and with a little bit of encouragement and help from Rebecca, she latches on gently.  Looking up, Rebecca finally realises Jelka is sitting in the doorway leaning against Billy, both of whom are watching, worried and confused by what has happened.

All of them jump when a strange voice echoes up the stairs, announcing themselves as paramedics.

“Upstairs… last door” Matthijs calls back, he should probably go and get them but he’s too stunned to move at that moment.  Seconds later the two paramedics appear and take the situation in quickly.  They don’t step into the room as Billy plants himself in front of them growling in warning.

“Billy, het gaat goed met ze. Ze zijn vrienden.” (Billy, they're ok.  They're friends.) Matthijs tried to reassure the protective dog but ended up having to get up and move the normally gentle and sweet dog out of the way.  He takes them both back to Jelka’s bedroom, reassuring the trembling toddler who has no idea what has just happened.

“We have another daughter…” Rebecca looks up at the paramedics.

When he gets back to the master bedroom the paramedics are trying to see to Rebecca and the baby but Rebecca has regained some of her equilibrium and is arguing quietly with them.

“You can check her from right there…” She shakes her head when one of them tries to take the baby.  “She’s content and feeding so it won’t be hard to check what you need to right where she is…”

“Rebecca…” he tries but doesn’t get very far when she levels a glare at him, she’s never had to hand over one of her babies this soon and she’s not planning on starting now.

“It’s fine…” one of the paramedics pulled the stethoscope out and after warming it on her hands gently pressed it against the baby’s back.

It takes them another 20 minutes and the delivery of the placenta, but they manage to get Rebecca onto the stretcher and down into the ambulance with Matthijs quickly changing his shirt and grabbing her bags and Jelka to follow in the land rover.

“Get me that camembert toastie on your way please!” she yells to him as the doors close, grinning as he salutes her knowing exactly what she wanted.  She’d been bitching about wanting this specific meal for months.

By the time they reach the hospital, the baby seems to be full and is fast asleep on her chest still latched on.

“42 year old female and 35 minute old female, precipitous labour…” the paramedic fills the medical personnel in as she’s rolled into the A and E.

She’s immediately taken back to a treatment room and swarmed by doctors and nurses.

She barely even notices the IV inserted into her left hand and lets them examine her without giving up her hold on the sleeping baby, refusing every attempt by the nurses to take her and watches with an eagle eye as their matching patient ID bands are affixed to her wrist and both the baby’s ankles.  Everything seems to be going fine until one of the doctors mentions taking the baby away to get checked out further.

Rebecca glared at the doctor, tightening her hold as though he’s going to snatch her away. “Is there any medically emergent reason you want to take her from the room?”  

“Other than you giving birth alone in your bedroom just on the wrong side of full term and we want to show an abundance of caution.  No.” The doctor conceded, temperature, heart rate and breathing for both of them were all normal.

“Ok, firstly I wasn’t alone.  My partner got there in time to catch her and secondly only one of my four babies made full term, this one's sister just missed the 38 week mark, in fact my second made 37 weeks by about 8 hours.  I know what to look for, I also know that all the recent studies and research shows that newborns do better the longer they’re left with mum.  Check her over, do the blood spot, weight and measure here in the room and then bring her back to me.  When my partner arrives, I’m going to eat that Camembert toastie I’ve been craving for 8 months, argue with him over her name. Little girlie here is probably going to need to feed again and by then we’ll hopefully be in a room so I can take a shower while she gets to know her papa.  Somewhere in there I’m probably going to need to comfort the 2 year old who I’m fairly certain witnessed me giving birth as well.”

“If,” the doctor stressed “If I don’t see anything concerning then yes we can do that.”

Glaring at him a moment longer, Rebecca nodded and handed the baby to the smirking midwife while a nurse helped her get changed out of her bloody robe and wipe the worst of the blood and birth fluids off.  

While he was waiting for Rebecca’s meal to be ready, Matthijs pulled out his phone and sent a message to Leslie Higgins, hoping the man was as trustworthy as he appeared.

Please keep this quiet until Rebecca sends out the official announcement, she had the baby this morning.  She’s unavailable to everyone until further notice and needs you to handle anything that comes up, without telling people.  I’ll let you know who knows as the day passes.

He didn’t like putting this on Higgins but he knew of at least two people that wouldn’t be able to contain their excitement and before they were ready for visitors to descend on them, they would appear with all the love and good intentions in the world.  It had always been Rebecca’s decision on when she was ready for visitors and he had never let anyone take that decision away from her.  It was easier to keep it quiet than deal with hurt feelings about not being allowed in to visit.

He contemplates whether to call his parents, but decides to wait until he’s seen for himself that everything is ok.

Just as he’s leaving and heading towards the car his phone buzzes with incoming messages.  The first a response from Higgins

Congratulations, I’ll handle everything quietly.  I hope mother and baby are doing well, let me know if you need anything.

The second is from Rebecca.

Still in A&E, waiting on a bed in maternity.  All looking good so far, tempted to tell them not to bother with a bed and send us home once we pass all the checks.

There’s 3 little dots showing so he waits to see what else she’s typing.

Sterre?

Chuckling, knowing the name is a red herring, he immediately types out a response.

I have your food, be there soon, don’t be too mean to the doctors.  I messaged Higgins, told him to keep it quiet but to handle everything.  Prefer the english version, Stella?

At Nelson Road, Higgins smiled to himself and locked his phone.  He had been handling the majority of club business for the last month anyway, so Matthijs’ request was nothing overly burdensome.

One or two people might notice Rebecca offline but as she hadn’t been to the club for nearly a month it wouldn’t be hard to both keep the news quiet and keep the club afloat.  Once the news got out, keeping people from descending on the hospital or their house was a different story altogether.  He clearly remembers locking their front door and disconnecting the bell when Dana had been a newborn in an attempt to give them some peace from visitors.

While Matthijs is driving another message drops through.

Saskia?

There was her preferred name.  It had been on Rebecca’s list since she had been pregnant with Romejin but had never managed to make it to the top.  She’d let him win on Jelka in order to name Romejin.

When he parks, he hearts the name and responds to confirm she’s still in A&E.  The entire time, Jelka is clinging to him, asking for mama every few minutes.

It takes him a few minutes to get through the line to reception and confirm his identity before he is let back into the treatment area to find her in a corner bed, glaring at a Doctor who is checking the crying baby over.  

“There’s mama” he presses a gentle kiss to his daughters cheek and whispers in her ear.

Dropping her bag by the bed he leaned down and kissed her as he handed the bag of food over.

“Oh, you fucker…” Matthijs couldn’t tell if she was happier to see him or the food, at least the Doctor looked a little more relaxed now that he’d distracted her.  From his arms, Jelka squirmed and tried to get to Rebecca.  Reaching out, she took the little girl and let her cuddle close.

“I also called Mina and gave her the rundown, told her to organise whatever or whoever she needed to get the bedroom cleaned today and bill us.”

“Whatever she asks for, triple it.  Although, the carpet might not be salvageable…. You’ll need a new bathrobe as well…” Rebecca hadn’t even thought about the state they’d left the house in.

It was at that moment, the Doctor turned to them with a smile, as the nurse finished cleaning her down and swaddled her.  “Perfectly healthy baby girl.  53 centimeters, 3 kilos.  Everything is startlingly average.”

Rebecca pushed the food aside and held her arms out for the still crying baby.  “Ha!  I told you she’d be the same size as Romejin…” and then her attention turns completely to the baby.  Still plastered to her side, Jelka looks on curiously.

“Oh I know… poor little girl, you were comfortable and sleeping and then the mean doctor had to poke and prod at you…” she lay the baby against her knees and undid the professional nurse's swaddle, running gentle hands and a discerning gaze over the tiny body, long and lanky like her siblings.  Finally counting fingers and toes and taking in the delicate features before tucking her inside the hospital gown against her skin.  “Mama’s got you…”

Matthijs shook his head as within seconds of being cuddled close back in with her mother, the crying dropped back down into an unhappy grizzle and finally silence.  Very few people outside their family and closest friends got to see this side of Rebecca.  Out in the world, she was fierce and abrasive and to some downright terrifying but here, with one of their babies she was the softest, cuddliest person he’d ever met.

“Yeah, you’re ok… you’re perfect…” She leaned down and kissed the baby’s head as it gave a great big sigh and relaxed into the comfort of her mothers chest.  “Saskia or Stella…”

“Saskia.” Matthijs agreed, Rebecca had been waiting 8 years to use the name.

Reaching her free hand out, Rebecca runs it gently through Jelka’s hair to get her attention.

“Jelka, sweetheart?” She shuffles Saskia slightly so her little face is visible.  “Do you want to meet your baby sister?”

Off to the side, Matthijs pulls out his phone and snaps a photo of the moment Rebecca introduces her daughters to each other.  Jelka is on her knees, head resting on one of Rebecca’s shoulder, scowling at the baby in consternation.  Pocketing his phone, he rolled the bed table to within her reach and started to lay out the meal for her to eat, thankful the staff had followed instructions and cut the sandwich into quarters.  He contemplates taking Jelka from where she is still plastered to her mothers side but knows the last thing they need is for a screaming nearly 3 year old.  Instead, he pulls the disposable cutlery from the bag and cuts the sandwich into even smaller pieces, allowing Rebecca to grab bite sized pieces around the children she is currently covered in.  He’d offer to take the baby but knew that would go down even worse than moving Jelka.

“Fuck me…” Rebecca groaned around the first mouthful.

It’s another hour before they have a bed available up in maternity and they’re transferred without any fuss.  Jelka having finally settled down enough for Matthijs to take her from the bed but not enough to let her mother out of her sight.

As she’d explained to the doctor, as soon as they’re settled Rebecca hands Saskia over to Matthijs and accepts the nurses assistance to take a shower, Jelka following them into the bathroom like a little shadow.

Leaning back in the recliner, Matthijs held his youngest daughter securely against his chest, like her siblings, Saskia wasn’t as content with him yet as she was with Rebecca but seemed to find him an acceptable substitute for now.  That would change over the next few weeks as the baby got used to the outside world and got to know her father as more than just a vague rumbling voice.

Pulling his phone out, he arranged the baby so her little face was in view and snapped a selfie.  Attaching it and the photo of Rebecca and the girls to a message, he sent it to all four of their parents.

Saskia, born 9:30 this morning.  Mother and daughter healthy, father not so good 😆will call you soon.

He hits send and then opens the separate chat with just Joris and Roosje.

Definitely won’t make it over for Sinterklass, we’ll discuss Christmas once we’re home.

No one had genuinely expected them to make it to Hoorne for Sinterklass, with the baby due mid December and Rebecca’s history of delivering just on the edge of full term; his parents wouldn’t be surprised at all by the cancellation.  Joris had laughed in his son’s face for even bringing it up.

In the bathroom, the shower shut off and he could hear the quiet murmuring of Rebecca and the nurse chatting to each other.

On his chest, Saskia’s eyes blink open and she gazes up at him with blurry confused eyes and his breath is taken away at how much she looks like Rebecca.  Saskia already appeared to be her double.  He couldn’t see any of himself in her, except maybe the ears.

While the eyes might be deep baby blue right now, they were the same blue Romejin had been born with and he wouldn’t be surprised if they lightened into Rebecca’s pale green eventually.

It was strange, Romejin looked like him with a few minor variances, Bastiaan and Jelka were a well balanced mix of their parents and now they had Rebecca’s double.

“Hallo mooie meid, ik kijk ernaar uit je te ontmoeten.” (Hello pretty girl, I've been looking forward to meeting you.) He murmured, his thumb running soothingly up and down her back. 

He let out a chuckle when her little mouth started to open and close against his chest, tongue poking out searching…

“Ach, geen klein meisje.  Je moet op mama wachten.” (Ah, no little girl.  You need to wait for mummy.)

“What does she need to wait for mama for?” Rebecca called out softly from the bathroom door where she’s standing in comfortable flannel pyjamas, Jelka clinging to her pant leg.

“Food…” He looked her up and down worriedly, trying to get an idea of how she was really doing.  The day had been insane and neither of them had had a chance to stop and process.

“Ah” she nodded and made her way towards him, pointedly ignoring the worry in his gaze.  “Have I told you that watching you with a baby is unspeakably hot?”

“Yes… when I was playing catch up in Leeds, you told me one of the reasons you wanted one more baby was just to see me cuddling a newborn again… then a few hours later we made her.” Matthijs smirked at her as she took the baby.

“Hello Saskia, you’re our last baby…” she cooed and slid back into the bed as Matthijs lifted Jelka up there with them.  “Yes you are, mama’s holding papa to his promise to close his baby making shop with a quick snip…”

“Yes, yes, as promised, I’ll book in in the new year.”

Somewhere in the room, Rebecca’s phone started ringing.  Matthijs started to look around for it while she kept talking to Saskia.

“Come on darling, we’ve already done this.  You know what to do… no no no… that doesn’t work for either of us… there we go…”

Finally finding the phone, Matthijs held it up to show her Keeley’s smiling face flashing up.

“Oh fuck, she was bringing lunch over…” Rebecca groaned.  “I really don’t want to lie to her but…”

“You don’t want her turning up here either…” 

After another moment of indecision, Rebecca nodded her head for him to answer the call and put it on speaker.

“Hello darling.  You’re standing outside my house wondering why no one is there, aren’t you?” She greets her friend.

END CHAPTER 17