“I need to talk to you,” she said. Her tone of voice was sharp, and he immediately thought he’d done something wrong.
“You make me nervous when you sound like that,” he said, seeing a parking spot up ahead outside his flat and guiding the car into it.
“It’s quite serious,” she said. “Your application for a mortgage hasn’t been accepted.”
Tristan switched off the engine and immediately began to sweat.
“You told me it was approved.”
“Gary thought that, as the bank manager, he was able to override the system . . . Someone at head office then reviewed the approved mortgage application, and you don’t earn enough—on paper, that is,” said Sarah.
“What do you mean? I earn money.”
“They can’t count the agency because it’s a new business. They need to see a year’s tax returns before they can count it as income.”
“Okay, so what do I do?”
“Now don’t panic. It means that this month your mortgage will revert to the general APR, which luckily isn’t a great deal more.”
“How much more?”
“A hundred and fifty pounds.”
“That’s a lot,” said Tristan, running through the amounts in his head. Money was already tight, and if the police reopened the Joanna Duncan case, then Bev might not need them anymore.
“We’ve got a month to get this sorted out, and we will sort it. Do you need any help with money?” asked Sarah.
“No. Thank you.”
“It just makes me wish that you didn’t have to invite some stranger to live with you . . .” There was a muffled noise as she put the phone down, and he heard her throwing up.
“Sarah?”
“Oh. Sorry about that,” she said.
“Are you still ill?”
Sarah let out a long breath.
“Tris, I have something to tell you . . . I’m pregnant.”
“Wow. That’s brilliant news,” said Tristan, feeling genuinely excited for his sister. “I thought you wanted to be married for a bit before . . .”
“Yes. This has come as a big shock. I literally just found out. Just now did the test,” said Sarah.
“Where’s Gary?”
“He’s at work. You’re the first person I’m telling . . .” Her voice sounded melancholy and far away.
“This is great news. You’re married to someone you love. You have jobs, a home. You’ve got that spare room,” said Tristan.
“I know. I am happy. I will be happy. I’m just worried; it all seems so grown up. Do I know enough about my own life to be responsible for another one?”
“Sarah. You’ve been just as much a mum to me as a sister. You’re going to be the best mother. The best. That’s one lucky kid.”
He could hear Sarah was beginning to cry.
“And you’re going to be the most fun and wonderful uncle.”
“I didn’t think of that,” said Tristan, feeling the tears in his eyes. “You bet. Do you think it’s a boy or a girl?”
Sarah laughed. “It’s just a blue line on a pregnancy-testing kit. I can’t be more than a couple of weeks gone.”
There was a pause. They were both sobbing.
“This is good news! You have to tell Gary, right now. Phone him now,” said Tristan.
He heard her sniff and blow her nose.
“Okay. I will. I love you. And we’re going to sort out your mortgage, you hear?”
“Okay. Love you too.”
When Tristan came off the phone, he went indoors. The house was empty, and he saw that the back window had been mended in the kitchen. He looked at himself in the bathroom mirror. Sarah was pregnant. She was having a baby. It made him think about his own life. He was happy at work. Very happy, but what about his personal life? There wasn’t even a significant other on the horizon. And what about kids? He’d always wanted children, but now he didn’t know how it would happen, and that made him feel sad and lonely.
He changed into his running gear. It was a warm evening, and he ran along the seafront and across the beach to the lighthouse and back. Running made him feel better and made his thoughts and worries fall off his shoulders. The weather would be good for the next few months. He would have to buy Sarah and Gary something. Did you give pregnancy gifts? Money was a worry. What if Bev and Bill decided not to keep them on after the first month, when they were getting closer with the investigation? He was now on reduced hours at the university over the summer. He could cancel his gym membership, which was sixty pounds a month, and his habit of buying an expensive pair of trainers every month could stop, or he could start taking sandwiches to the office—that would save him a fortune. It would give him the extra money for the mortgage if things didn’t work out. His birthday was coming up, and he could ask for free weights.