She laughs. ‘Yes! She went at it with a pair of scissors. But there’s something I never told you about that weekend, and I think it’s only fair that I do.’
‘OK . . .’
‘Well, that weekend, I thought I was pregnant.’
‘Are you serious?’ I reply, closing the car door with a bang. ‘Pregnant?’
‘Yeah. . . I wasn’t, obviously. My period was just late. But it scared the shit out of me. What it would mean for my career, for my future. . . for us.’
I sink back into my seat. I can’t believe what I’m hearing. ‘Jesus, Kate. That was years ago. Why didn’t you tell me?’
‘Because I knew how much you wanted kids!’ she exclaims. ‘God knows you made that abundantly clear so many times, and when I saw how great you were with Tom. . . I just knew if I told you, you’d want to keep it and I wasn’t ready to have that discussion because I wasn’t sure I wanted the same.’
The guilt begins to creep over me. She chose to deal with that alone, rather than talk to me about it. And I understand why. I’d begun planning our family long before I ever opened it up for discussion.
‘I’m so sorry, Kate,’ I say, staring at the floor. ‘I should have been there for you.’
‘Ed, it was eight years ago. So much has changed since then,’ she says. ‘Fuck, so much has changed since last month! When Gubba was ill and I saw the effect it had on my little brother. . . it was the first time I’ve ever felt properly protective. Maternal, almost. Does that make sense?’
I nod. ‘It does.’
‘All I wanted to do was make sure he was all right and shield him from the bad stuff as much as I possibly could. Same with my mum. I knew I had to put my own shit aside and step up. Fuck, what am I trying to say here?’
She pauses and takes a breath. ‘Ed, I’m not sure I’ll ever want to get married but having kids. . . with you? That’s something I’m far less uncertain about.’
I feel a surge of excitement rise in my chest. ‘You’ll consider it?’
She nods. ‘In a few years, you know– after I’ve retrained in human-rights law.’
‘Really?’
‘Really,’ she replies. ‘Oh god, don’t cry– you’ll set me off!’
I pull her to me and kiss her like it’s the first time. Because bizarrely, that’s exactly what it feels like.
‘I’ve missed you so much,’ I tell her. ‘Come home, Kate. Please, just come home.’
Epilogue: December 23rd
Kate
‘Right, you go first. What did you get?’
‘Are you ready for this?’ I ask, slowly opening my bag to reveal a coronation chicken sandwich, so yellow, it’s almost glowing. ‘Ta-da! Beat that!’
Ed screws up his face. ‘Jesus, did the person who made this also design your terrible trainers?’
‘Very funny,’ I reply. ‘And no, I’m still not throwing them away.’ Spending that entire day in my neon runners was the best thing that ever happened to my feet. I’ve never known such comfort. When I die, I intend to have them buried with me.
‘Wait, what are those black things?’ he asks, peering through the cellophane. He prods one with his finger.
‘Sultanas, maybe?’ I reply. ‘Legless spider corpses? It’s all part of the great mystery. Now, go on, show me yours.’
Ed shudders before revealing his choice of sandwich for the trip home. ‘Triple cheese!’ he proclaims. ‘Here we have three different kinds of cheese on three kinds of equally dry bread. Guaranteed there’s some onion involved somewhere, just festering between two slices of stale brown.’
‘Classy,’ I respond, laughing. ‘There’s nothing like the stench of onion and cheese to make a packed train full of commuters warm to you with festive cheer.’
Just because Ed and I have decided to take the train home for Christmas this year, it doesn’t mean we have to abandon our traditions completely. While we won’t be stopping at any motorway service stations, we have preserved our sacred road-trip sandwich ritual. Well, apart from throwing the losing butty out the window.
