“You nearly did, though.”
She glanced at Alex. Two patches of colour burned on his cheeks. “You’re not jealous of Paul, are you?” she asked.
He tried to sound dismissive. “No, of course not.” He avoided her eyes. “I just don’t like to think of you with someone like that, that’s all.”
Part amused, part annoyed, Kate wriggled around until she was facing him. “That’s not a very professional attitude, is it? I thought psychologists were above such things?”
“Perhaps … perhaps I’m not a very good psychologist.” She had the impression that he had changed his mind at the last second about what he was going to say.
“I’d have thought you’d be pretty good,” she said. “You’re a good listener. That’s a lot of what psychology’s about, isn’t it?”
“Oh, yeah. There’s plenty of listening, but that’s about all. Psychologists don’t actually do anything.” His tone was uncharacteristically bitter.
Wanting to pull him out of his suddenly dark mood, Kate bent her head and lightly nipped the flesh of his chest in her teeth. “I’d better keep you busy, then.”
The phone rang later that same evening. Usually she ignored it when Alex was there, letting the answering machine take the message, but this time she was passing when it trilled out. She wavered, tempted to walk past, then reluctantly picked up the receiver.
“Hi, Kate,” Lucy said, cheerfully. “Just thought I’d give you a ring and make sure you weren’t dead.”
Kate felt a prod of conscience. She hadn’t spoken to Lucy since telling her she was meeting Alex for the final time. She glanced involuntarily towards the bedroom. “Sorry, I’ve been meaning to, but — “
“I know, I know, you’ve got a lot on at work. Never mind. Anyway, what happened the other night? Did you see Alex?”
“Uh … yes.”
“How did it go?”
“Okay, I suppose.”
“So that’s it, then? You told him you’re not going to see him any more?” Lucy’s disapproval was obvious.
“Er … he’s here now, actually.”
There was a pause. “Oh, really?” Kate could almost hear her smirking. “The farewell dinner didn’t work out quite as you’d planned, then?” Lucy said.
“Not exactly.”
“Well, I was going to invite you over for lunch tomorrow, but I dare say now you’ll be busy. Unless you wanted to bring Alex as well?”
“Thanks, but I think we’ll pass.”
“I thought you might. Well, give Alex my love — if you’ve any left — and I’ll talk to you next week. Oh, and, Kate?”
“What?”
Lucy was laughing. “Don’t forget to use a contraceptive.”
The irony of her timing wasn’t lost on Kate. She wasn’t sure if waiting until she’d started the donor insemination treatment before sleeping with Alex qualified as perversity or just karma. Whichever, it changed everything.
Kate knew there were issues that had to be faced; about the clinic, about her relationship with Alex. But she couldn’t bring herself to worry about them. Her life, at last, seemed to have achieved its natural, pre-ordained balance. She felt a rightness about it all, a certainty that this was how things were meant to be, that now everything would fall into place.
It seemed inevitable that she would miss her period. She waited several days before mentioning it to Alex. “You said when I first met you that you liked the idea of fatherhood without the responsibility,” she said. “Do you still feel the same way?”
They lay folded around each other in bed. His arm was draped over her in the darkness.
“Why?”
She toyed with the St Christopher on his chest, winding the silver chain around her finger, then off. “It isn’t definite, but I went to the doctor’s today for a pregnancy test.”
She waited. “When will you know?”
“Sometime next week.”
She could have found out sooner, by buying a kit and testing herself. But even if it had been positive, she wouldn’t have entirely believed it. She didn’t want to risk the disappointment of making a mistake. Having it confirmed by a doctor would somehow make it more official. More real.
Kate looked up towards Alex’s face, almost invisible in the dark. “I just want you to know that you’re not under any obligation. This — uh — doesn’t change anything.”
It seemed a long time before he spoke. “It does for me.”
His voice was throaty. Kate let go of the chain. Unable to speak, she laid her head on his chest, glad he couldn’t see the dampness on her cheeks.
She was never sure why she didn’t tell him exactly when the result of the test would be through. The doctor had told her which day to phone in, but something made her hold that back from Alex. She told herself that she wanted to surprise him, to let him believe they wouldn’t know until later in the week. But she knew there was a more selfish reason. She wanted to keep that much for herself.
On the morning she was to phone for the result they ate breakfast together at her cramped breakfast bar in the kitchen. Alex had to leave before she did, and Kate kissed him and watched him go down the stairs to the front door. At the bottom he turned and waved, and seeing him there, grinning, his dark hair tufted, Kate almost gave in and told him. Then he went out and closed the door, and it was too late.
She went to work in a strange mood of hope and near-terror, the two blending until they became indistinguishable from each other. She was hardly aware of her surroundings, getting on and off the tube automatically, letting her body take her through the familiar routine without consciously thinking about it. Only when she came up from the Underground into the morning furore outside King’s Cross was she jolted from her internal world as a fire engine blared past in a cacophony of noise and colour. Looking after it,
Kate felt a disquieting tug of deja vu. But even as she tried to grasp the memory, it drifted tantalisingly out of reach, insubstantial as smoke.
She had been told to call the doctor’s surgery after eleven. She waited until two minutes past, and then picked up her office phone and dialled the doctor’s number. The receptionist took her details and put her on hold. A cheery electronic jingle filled the line. Kate tensed when it stopped, but it had only reached the end of its loop. A second later it started up again, as bland as the chime from an ice-cream van. The tune played through twice, then was abruptly cut off.
“Miss Powell?”
the receptionist’s voice broke in. “Your test’s positive.”
Kate’s mouth had dried. “Positive? So I’m pregnant?”
“According to this.” There was a pause before the woman added, “Congratulations.” It was said without real feeling, but Kate didn’t care. She thanked the receptionist and hung up. She sat back, examining how she felt. No different and yet, at the same time, utterly changed. An emotion so strong rose up in her she couldn’t have put a name to it.
l at once, the need to tell Alex was unbearable. She had never called him at work before, not since he had asked her not to when they first met. Now, though, she took his card from her wallet and dialled his office number.
Woman answered. “Ealing Centre.”
“Can I speak to Alex Turner, please?”
“Dr Turner’s with a patient at the moment. Would you like to leave a message?”
Kate hesitated. “No, it doesn’t matter. Thank you.”
She put down the receiver. But the urge to share the news with him was too strong to ignore. Taking a fax coversheet from her drawer, she considered what to say. She wanted to phrase the message so that Alex would understand, but not anyone else who happened to see it. Grinning, she picked up a pen. “Your grandmother’s St Christopher worked!” she wrote. “Phone me! Love, Kate.” Pleased with herself, she went downstairs and faxed it off.