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“What about the weekend?”
“We live outside London at the weekends. Just the two of us. Very quiet and reclusive.”
“How is your atelier coming on?”
“Really well. The builders have gone and the electrician is close to finishing off. I’m impressed with how it has turned out.”
The architect had suggested removing the floor on the upper storey in order to create one tall room. As well as the glass wall, skylights had been installed in the roof to let in the sun during the winter months. For warmth, under-heated flooring and spot-lights, which varied in their intensity according to the natural ambient light. A long workbench would be constructed down one wall for storage and preparations, plus a sink and drying room. She’d already picked the flooring, wall paints, and the smaller fittings.
“We’ve created a play area at one end for my little one. A safe area to roll about in while I paint.”
They arrived outside the grand hotel. A doorman shot out to help Gemma out of the car.
“Good afternoon, Mrs Lucas. A pleasure to see you here again.” He tipped his hat.
“I tip well,” she whispered to Maggie.
The concierge took them to their seats in the Promenade, offering Gemma the afternoon tea menu and assisting her into a chair.
“I will have mint tea, salmon sandwiches, and scones please. I’m a bit hungry.”
Maggie chose Earl Grey and a selection of pastries. “I should be watching my weight.”
“I don’t appear to have put on much, considering how much he’s growing inside me. I think that’s due to my healthy diet. Jason’s requirement,” she said after the waiter moved on.
“Diet?”
“Yes. No tea or coffee, unhealthy snacks, cakes, chocolate, ice cream. Quite a list in the end.” A stunned facial expression from Maggie greeted Gemma.
Maggie pointed at the plate in front of Gemma. “You’re eating scones today”
“I have permission. I texted him earlier and he said I could eat what I liked.” Gemma laid a napkin on her lap, slipping it under her belly. The lad had been kicking away all afternoon. She was convinced he had started to swing a golf club in her womb. The gender had been confirmed during the latest 3-D scan.
“He decides what you eat? Why?” Maggie stared at her, mouth poised about a cinnamon swirl.
“I struggled at first. All those leaflets telling me what I should or should not do. So Jason suggested I hand over certain aspects of my pregnancy to him. For him to control and tell me what to do. Dominant, remember?”
“I thought you meant in bed? You know sex,” whispered Maggie.
Gemma grinned, unperturbed by the topic. Background music and a general low-level hubbub of noise masked their conversation.
“That’s the major part of what we do as Dom and sub. But I’ve given control to him for other aspects of my life, too. It’s been very helpful, having a few rules to guide me, and he has the chance to be involved with my pregnancy.”
Maggie examined her own food. “What you eat?”
Gemma nodded. “Exercise, what I wear, generally that is, not individual outfits. He sends me to bed if he thinks I’m tired. He doesn’t have control over the medical aspects of my pregnancy. He checks with me every day to make sure I’m not anxious or worried about anything. I panicked a bit at first. I’m very content now.” The baby kicked, and she stroked her belly. “Somersaults, today. Jason likes swimming. I think this one does, too.”
“He’ll run out of space soon, don’t worry.” The conversation drifted into general aspects of their life, until Maggie glanced at her watch. “I should get back to work. Tidy up a few loose ends before going home. Thank you for the tea.”
Gemma waved at a waiter to arrange for the bill. “It was lovely to have your company. Perhaps we could meet again. I would like to meet your husband—he has been very helpful to me. I’m hoping by next academic year to have grants available for five fellowships.”
“I’m sure Hugh would like to meet you, too.”
Gemma dropped her doctor back at the clinic then went home. Her aching body called out for feet-up time and a good book. Tomorrow she would be interviewing for a potential nanny: a very open-minded nanny. She wasn’t convinced she would find a decent candidate. The strict criteria put together with Jason a couple of weeks earlier had been somewhat narrow and unyielding.
~
They’d retired to the sitting room at Blythewood one evening, trying to decide what qualities they sought in a nanny. A live-in was unnecessary and undesirable. They both sought privacy. The stipulation meant someone who could work Mondays to Fridays, available to babysit when she and Jason had social functions to attend or wanted a night out together.
