Page 79 of The Way We Are Now

‘Oh, enjoying marital bliss and her twins.’ Michael’s tone was light, but I knew he carried regrets about losing his first wife. ‘The thing is, Anna, I don’t want to make the same mistakes with you. Do you not think… you know…?’

‘What?’ I couldn’t quite meet his eye.

‘Anna, I’m forty-four. I’d like to settle down… have a family.’

‘I know.’ I’d realised Michael was becoming broody, wanted to put down roots.

‘You know? What, you know because you feel the same way? You’re ready for more too?’ He put down his glass and then took mine, placing it on the table next to his own before wrapping his arms round me. ‘Anna, I’m crazy about you.’

I was fully aware I didn’t feel quite the same way, recognised I liked Michael enormously, but did I want to commit? To a family? Wasn’t I too old, at forty, to be even considering a family? Let’s cut to the chase here: a baby? Did I want a baby? Gemma’s news had got me thinking, made me feel a stirring of something, but was that stirring just envy, a reminder of the old ticking clock or a real, genuine maternal pull?

Was it because I didn’t have that heart-stopping, heart-wrenching love I’d had for Theo Mandeville all those years ago? Almost twenty years ago? That, surely, had just been a young girl’s infatuation. Wanting something I couldn’t have, could never have. To be honest, I’d not thought much about Theo over the past decade. I’d occasionally, out of curiosity, google him and his family, see that he appeared happy and fulfilled running the estate, and that was that. More than I missed Theo himself, I knew I missed that burning love that probably only hits us once in our life. Only if we’re lucky. And for some, never.

I turned to Michael. ‘Are you proposing?’

‘Oh!’ For a moment he looked surprised, terrified even, and then he took his glass, drank what remained before refilling it and downing that too.

‘Oy, that’s supposed to be my birthday champagne.’ I laughed at his face, waiting for him to recover from the bubbles going down too quickly.

‘Bloody hell, Anna, you really are just too direct!’ he finally got out. ‘Can’t you let a man propose his own way without you taking over?’

‘I’m sorry.’ I laughed again, downing my own drink.

‘So.’ He looked at his watch. ‘We’ve an hour.’

‘Time enough.’ I smiled, reaching for Michael and the bottle and, leading him by the tie, headed for the bedroom.

‘Oh, my God, I don’t believe this! You said we were going out for a quiet celebratory dinner?’ I stared round at the crowd of friends and family, work colleagues and politicians who’d gathered and were now jumping out of hiding places, singing ‘Happy Birthday’ and popping corks and streamers.

‘Come on, Anna, I wasn’t going to let your fortieth birthday go by with just a dinner. We can have dinner any time.’ Michael bent to kiss me, pushing me into the crowd where I was ambushed and kissed, hugged and cosseted, over and over again.

‘How lovely…’

‘I’d no idea…’

‘I’ll kill him…’

‘You can blame me as much as Michael.’ My brother David had his arms round me. ‘We sorted it together.’

‘Aw, Dad!’ I flung myself at him and he gathered me up.

‘Wszystkiego najlepszego! Happy birthday, my beautiful Anna.’

‘’Ere, out the way. Let me at her.’ Mum came first and then Aunty Sandra, both hugging the very life out of me.

‘I can’t believe this!’ I laughed in delight. ‘Oh, and Les! Come here!’ I embraced my little brother and then spotted my two nephews, Brandon and Ethan, fourteen and twelve respectively. Both hung back, probably overwhelmed by the noise and kissing, preferring to drink their cans of Coke than be made to greet this London aunt of theirs who, to be fair, they only saw a couple of times a year. Brandon appeared truculent, constantly pulling his hair across his cheeks where his acne flamed like scarlet porridge. But Ethan came forward, shy and tentative at first but then, like any twelve-year-old before adolescence hits, curious and interested.

‘Where’s your mum?’ I asked.

‘She’s just taken Megan to the bog. Oh, she’s here…’

Tracy, my sister-in-law – who also happened to be Linda of NUM fame’s youngest sister – came trotting towards me on high heels which elevated her five-foot-nothing frame.

‘Oh, the little dote…’ I took eighteen-month-old Megan in my arms, and she gazed up at me, unsmiling. ‘Goodness, she’s beautiful, Tracy.’

‘Well, you’ve not seen her since she was born.’

‘Oh, is it so long? Really? But thank you for the photos.’