dinner when he turns twenty-one,’ Mary said, and he turned and stared down at her. They were in the foyer. His colleagues, his staff were casting curious looks at the woman by his side.
The mother of his baby?
What was it with this woman? How could she read his mind?
‘How did you know what I was thinking?’
‘You’re like an open book.’
‘I’m not. And I wasn’t thinking his twenty-first. It was his eighteenth.’ Deep breath. ‘Do we know if it’s a he?’
‘I don’t have a clue,’ she said cheerfully. ‘Does it matter?’
‘Of course not.
But then he thought, A son.
And then he thought, A daughter.
‘You’re getting that hunted look again,’ she told him. ‘You needn’t worry. If you turn into your father, I’ll be between you and our child with a blunderbuss.’
‘I believe that,’ he said. ‘I’ve watched you playing roller derby.’
It was her turn to stare. ‘Where?’
‘YouTube.’
‘You watched me?’
‘Last year’s finals. A woman who plays like that...who looks like that... I wouldn’t get in her way for the world.’
‘There you are, then. You don’t have to worry about being like your father. I’ll put on full make-up and intervene.’
‘Don’t,’ he said, suddenly savage.
‘Don’t?’
‘Put on make-up. Pretend. Jake does it all the time. My mother did it. They move into their acting world and disappear.’
‘Is that what Jake’s done now? Is that why you’re hurting?’
‘Can we quit it with the inquisition?’ It was a savage demand but she didn’t flinch.
‘Sorry.’ She sounded almost cheerful. They’d negotiated the revolving doors and were out in the weak spring sunshine. New York was doing its best to impress.
Where to take her for lunch?
Clive’s was his normal business option, with comfortable seating, discreet booths, excellent food and an air of muted elegance. Clive himself always greeted him and no matter how busy, a booth was always assured.
He took Mary’s arm and steered her Clive-wards, but she dug in her heels.
‘The park’s thataway, right?’
‘Yes, but—’
‘And it’s Central Park. That’s where the Imagine garden is. Strawberry Fields Forever. I loved John Lennon. Can we buy a sandwich and go there?’
‘It’ll be full of—’
‘Kids and dogs,’ she finished for him. ‘Exactly. My kind of place.’
‘I guess it will be if you have this baby.’
‘It is anyway,’ she said, her voice gentling, as if she needed to reassure him. ‘I’m a district nurse. Kids and mums and oldies are what I do. Along with grass under my feet. Ben, I’m still jet-lagged. Fresh air will do me good.’
Now that she mentioned it, she was looking pale. He should have noticed before, but she was wearing drab clothes, she looked incredibly different from the last time he’d seen her and the news she’d brought had been shocking. Now he took the time to look more closely.
‘You’ve been ill.’
‘Morning sickness,’ she said darkly. ‘Only they lie. Morning... Ha!’
‘But you decided to fly to New York, morning sickness and all.’
‘It didn’t seem right not to tell you.’
‘Telephone?’
‘I wanted to watch your face when I said it.’
‘So you’ve said it. And I’ve been found wanting.’
‘You haven’t,’ she said, and tucked her arm into his. ‘You’ve explained why you’re afraid of being a father. If I’d telephoned I’d never have got that. I’d have raised Gertrude or Archibald to think Dad doesn’t care, rather than Dad cares too much. Where can we get a sandwich?’
Dad. The word did his head in.
‘If we’re having a sandwich we’re having the very best sandwich,’ he growled, fighting an emotion he didn’t know how to handle.
‘Excellent. Lead the way. We’re right beside you.’
We.
Discombobulated didn’t begin to describe how he felt.
HE HAD A diary packed with meetings.
He sat on the grass and ate sandwiches and drank soda with the mother of his child.
It seemed she’d done what she’d come to do. As far as Mary was concerned, the baby conversation was over. She chatted about the devastation caused by Cyclone Lila, about the rebuilding efforts, about Barbara and Henry’s dejection at the possibility of selling a cyclone-ravaged island.
‘Maybe I can buy it,’ Ben found himself saying.
‘Why on earth would you?’ She’d hardly touched her sandwich, he noted. When she thought he wasn’t watching she broke bits off and stuffed them into her bag.
Just how bad was the morning sickness?
‘Because I can?’
‘Just how rich are you?’
‘Too rich for my own good,’ he said, and grinned. ‘It’s a problem.’
‘Where’s your dad?’
‘He died ten years ago. Heart attack. It couldn’t have happened to a nicer man.’
‘You really hated him.’
‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I did. He was a total controller. Jake and I were supposed to go straight into the business. The power he wielded... We went into the army to get away from it. There was another dumb decision. It was only when he died that I took the first forays into commerce and found I loved it.’
‘It doesn’t mean you’re like him.’
‘No.’
