Together, they plated up the food. The beef was perfectly cooked, rosy red in the middle and oozing juices, the pastry flaky and golden on the outside. Lucy’s stomach rumbled at the sight of it, the creamy, garlicky potatoes smelt amazing. She carried two plates at a time into the dining room, another rapturous round of applause erupted from Rory’s friends as she set the plates down in front of them. As Rory came and poured a bottle of his finest claret into their bell-shaped red wine glasses, Lucy insisted everyone start to eat before their food began to cool. It was thankfully as mouth-watering a meal as Lucy had ever cooked, Ginny would have been proud of her, and she enjoyed every mouthful, relaxing into the sparkling conversation that flowed around and across the table now her catering duties were over.
The group of old friends had a wonderfully amicable ease with each other. The girls had formed a sort of triple entente against the boys, resulting in a comedic battle of the sexes which Lucy thought was hilarious. They would reprimand the men whilst the men wound them up purposefully, all resulting in some highly entertaining conversation.
Having given themselves enough time to digest their first two courses, Rory asked whether everyone was ready for pudding. He received a resounding cheer and went to fetch his pièce de resistance, the trifle. He dolloped huge portions into bowls, which were passed out along the table. Tasting a big spoonful of the gooey pudding, Lucy was impressed. It was a superb trifle; she had forgotten how much she loved it.
By the time Lucy had finished eating, her tummy was straining against the waist of her jeans; she was full to bursting. The conversation had moved onto the charming and not-so-charming antics of the accumulated couples’ children. Between them they had six children aged between one and nine years old. Rory was godparent to two of them and clearly loved hearing what they had been up to recently. It seemed that children really did say the funniest things. Much to their embarrassment with the neighbours, John and Anna’s eldest had screeched from the top floor out into the garden last week that her brother Freddie had punched her in the vagina. They couldn’t understand where she had even heard of that word and assumed that it was from the older children at school; they could only hope that she didn’t really understand what she was talking about. Along the same vein, Daniela and Ed’s eldest, nine-year-old Joe, had been humming along to theHarry Pottertheme tune when he had suddenly sung the word ‘erection’ quietly to himself. Not wishing to embarrass their son, Daniela and Ed had barely been able to disguise their giggles.
By one o’clock in the morning, everyone was more than ready for bed. The parents amongst them were conscious of their babysitters who would be annoyed if they didn’t come home at a relatively decent hour. Taxis were summoned and everyone kissed and hugged goodbye, declaring themselves thrilled to have met Lucy and over the moon for Rory at his wonderful girlfriend. Lucy was sure that the flattery was partly down to the booze but was secretly delighted that they all seemed to rate her so highly. Rory looked proudly at her as she said goodbye to all his friends, an expression of adoration plastered across his face. It had been a truly fantastic party.
They cleared up happily, loading the rest of the dirty dishes into the machine and washing the dishes that were too large to fit in under the tap. Lucy went up to get ready for bed while Rory took Rufus out for a quick walk around the block. She was half asleep by the time he joined her and she snuggled into his arms, kissing him and resting her head on his muscular chest as she drifted off to sleep.
‘Luce?’ asked Rory in the darkness.
‘Mmmm,’ said Lucy drowsily.
‘Do you want kids some day?’
‘Yes… I do,’ said Lucy, her heartbeat quickening. She immediately felt guilty that she still hadn’t told him about the IUI yet she felt excited that he was bringing the topic of conversation up in the first place. ‘Do you?’ she asked.
‘I want a few,’ said Rory, stifling a yawn as his breathing deepened. ‘Quite a few…’
Within minutes he was asleep, leaving Lucy to contemplate what he may have meant by asking her that question. Did he think they might have children together? Did that mean he might have been okay with it if she had turned out to be pregnant last week? In the silence of the room, with the rhythmic breathing of Rory’s breath in the background, she considered what his reaction might have been. She dared to imagine what he might have done if he had found out the baby wasn’t his.
