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‘Tell you what,’ she says. ‘Let’s get this fella to bed and we can chat over our takeaway, OK?’
‘Deal.’
He follows her upstairs into the bathroom. Like the rest of the house, it is freshly painted – in this room a delicate orange blossom. The towels match. Even the soap matches.
As Naomi runs Tommy’s bath, Sam sits on the loo and sets about easing the baby out of his clothes. He talks to him all the while, explaining everything in a soft voice as he has seen Naomi and Joyce do.
She tests the water with her elbow, nods to him that it’s OK, and he lowers Tommy into the shallow bubbles.
‘You’ve made everything so lovely,’ he says. Wonders what the master bedroom is like. But now is not the moment.
‘… the house was like this when I moved in,’ Naomi is saying, ‘but my focus has been Tommy. Every penny, everything has gone on him.’ She looks around her. ‘Not a colour I’d choose, but it’s warm and I quite like it now, so I ordered matching towels.’
‘It’s perfect.’
Later, when Sam holds his son, gazing into his eyes as he gulps down his milk, when he lowers him gently into the cot and places the flat of his hand on his little chest, feels the warmth of Naomi’s hand on his back, he feels a deep sense of peace.
Once they are back downstairs, he raises the subject of maintenance. After protesting a little, Naomi whips out her laptop and, with the apparent ease of a computer programmer, sets up a joint account.
‘If we’re getting married, rather than you doing a direct debit, it makes more sense for us to put money into a joint account. Also, no offence, but I don’t like the idea of you giving me money like I’m a charity case. We have equal responsibility so we should pay equally. And this way, anything he needs we can take from this account without it being, like,I bought him thisandyou bought him that. If we run short, we can top it up as we agree or whatever. So, like, his childminder fees can go in here, for example.’
‘And I’d like to set up a savings account for him, for when he’s older.’
‘Good idea. We can have that as a joint too. That way, if I’ve got any spare, I can put it in there as well. Not fair if it’s just you. Or I can do a direct debit from my account.’ She meets his eye and grins. ‘We can really look after him, can’t we?’
And any more that come along, Sam almost says but stops himself. One step at a time.
A little later, after they’ve eaten, he gives her the book and tells her what the girl in the shop told him.
‘Ah, thanks,’ she says, but a little disappointingly, she lays the novel to one side and picks up her iPhone. ‘Let me show you this banking app – it’s so cool. I’ll put it on your phone too and I’ll show you how to do the thumbprint thing. Can’t believe you’re still using a passcode.’
‘My hands are often dirty,’ he says. ‘Even in gloves. It’s just easier.’ But he is pulling the phone from her hand and throws it aside so he can kiss her. The kiss intensifies and he feels her respond. Himself too, as she lets him run his hands over the smooth lines of her body. At the waistband of her jeans, his fingers find the silken flesh of her belly, her warm back, and she sighs, her lips pressed to his neck. He has not touched her like this in so long; she is ridiculously soft, and as he traces the curve of her waist to her hip, sense almost leaves him.
‘Shall we go upstairs?’ Any resolve to wait until they’re married is gone.
She shakes her head. ‘I love you, I do. And I really want to, but…’
‘That’s OK.’ His voice is high with suppressed disappointment. ‘Honestly, it’s OK.’
‘Are you all right?’
‘Of course! Actually, I was thinking we could have, like, a courtship, like they did in the olden days? That’s partly why I bought the book.’
She smiles – the breath of a laugh. ‘You’re so funny. But that might be cool.’
‘We could even… I mean, we could even leave it till our wedding night, if you want?’ He can’t believe what he’s just said, as his blood is still settling.
Her eyes widen. ‘Oh my God, like we’re olden-day sweethearts! That’s such a cute idea!’
‘That’s what I thought.’ He swallows hard. Feels like he did when he first got to Lyme Regis Primary and gave Simon his best Top Trumps card so that Simon would be his friend: part elation, part crushing sacrifice.
CHAPTER 39
Joyce gives him two thousand pounds towards Tommy’s care, telling him to think of it not as maintenance but as the christening gift she would always have given him: nursery furniture, say, or a silver bracelet, or commemorative china.
‘Joyce! Are you sure? Thank you so much.’ He is glad of it. He has barely any money left.
Naomi shows him how to scan the cheque and pay it into Tommy’s account, all on his phone.
