Page 89 of The Way We Are Now

‘So does this Theo Mandeville bloke know?’

‘No.’

‘And are you seeing him again or was it a one-off? A night to remember? In every sense of the word?’

‘More than that.’

‘And?’

‘And both Michael and Theo could be the father of this baby. Both of them have so much on their plates at the moment, I can’t tell either of them just yet.’

‘What’s this Theo bloke so busy with? Or is it that he’s giving you the silent treatment, Anna? Got what he wanted and now shot off back to his estate and his wife again?’

‘Again?’

‘Well, didn’t he do this before? I remember walking round and round with you when you were so upset. Michael seems to be the one man who’s made you forget him. And now this?’

‘Theo’s at his son’s bedside. He’s dangerously ill with meningitis.’

‘Jesus.’ David shook his head. ‘Not good. Do you remember my friend Jane’s son d⁠—’

‘Thank you, yes, I do,’ I interrupted.

‘I’m sorry. What are you going to do? I mean, at the end of the day, what do you want?’ David took my hand. ‘Do you want a baby, Anna? You’ve never given me any impression that children have been on your wish list.’

My hand moved protectively to my abdomen. ‘David, I want this baby more than anything else in the world.’

‘Even more than this Theo bloke?’

I nodded when I realised I did.

I knew I had to tell Michael that not only was I pregnant, but I couldn’t be sure the baby was his.

He was tired and irritable when I called, having flown out to Brussels and back in one day, before heading for Downing Street and more meetings there.

‘I’m just about to jump in the shower,’ he said. ‘But come over, Anna, although I’ll probably fall asleep on you and not be up to much.’

Twenty minutes later I was at his apartment in Putney.

‘What’s up?’ he said as soon as he opened the door to me. ‘You’re looking a bit serious?’

I followed him into the kitchen where he reached for the kettle.

‘Michael, I’m pregnant…’

He shot round, kettle in hand, his face a picture.

‘…but I’m sorry…’

‘What? What?’

‘Michael, I’m so sorry… the thing is… I recently met up again with someone who used to mean a great deal to me in the past…’

‘And?’

‘And… and… you know, this is my baby.’

Michael folded his arms, never taking his eyes from me as he leaned against the kitchen cupboards. He looked dreadfully tired, his eyes red rimmed with fatigue. ‘So, if I’m reading this correctly, I think what you’re trying to tell me is that at least we know who the mother is? Yes?’