He stared at her, his jaw set implacably, his gaze fixed so determinedly on her, she had to look away.
‘What do you mean?’ he finally asked. ‘What don’t you think is such a good idea?’
She swallowed. ‘Living together. I just don’t seem able to live up to your high standards.’
‘But we’re having a baby together.’
‘Maybe that’s a mistake too.’
Everything about him suddenly changed. The angry hardness that had been in him the moment she arrived back and he’d demanded to know where she’d been, was gone. Right before her eyes, he visibly softened, became the Rick that was kind and caring and who told her every morning before he went to work how much he loved her. The Rick who left yellow Post-its on the fridge door with baby name suggestions. The Rick who had already ordered a pram and researched which baby seat would be the safest option for their child.
‘Don’t ever say that,’ he said, coming towards her. ‘Our having a baby is the best thing ever to happen to me. The next best thing after meeting you, of course,’ he added with a smile.
‘But I can’t do anything right in your eyes. And you called me stupid.’
He put a hand to her hair and tucked it behind her ear. ‘Sometimes you do stupid things, that’s all. Like not telling me where you were going after work. I was waiting for you to come home. I’d planned a special supper for us. I was worried about you.’
‘But I thought you were going to the gym this evening.’
‘I changed my mind. I came home early wanting to surprise you with a Thai takeaway I picked up on the way home. But you weren’t here.’
‘Why didn’t you text me?’
‘What, and have you think I was checking up on you? That’s the last thing I’d want.’
She supposed there was some logic in what he’d just said, but she couldn’t see it.‘Well, I’m here now,’ she said brightly, and thinking how much she would enjoy some Thai food. But there was no sign of any foil cartons on the worktops, just a lingering appetising smell that was suddenly making her realise how hungry she was.
‘I’m afraid I threw yours in the bin,’ he said, as though picking up on her thoughts, as he so regularly seemed able to do. ‘It was ruined by hanging around for you.’
‘Oh,’ she said, disappointed.
‘Didn’t you eat when you were with your friends celebrating Steven’s birthday?’ he asked.
‘Stefan,’ she said. ‘And no, I didn’t have anything to eat, it really was just a round of drinks we had. But not to worry, I’ll make myself some toast.’ If she was really careful she could do that without making too much of a mess in Rick’s pristine kitchen, and winding him up further.
‘Absolutely not,’ he said, placing his hands around her face and kissing her forehead. ‘I want you to go and run yourself a bath and while you relax, I’ll rustle up something nutritious and tasty for you and the baby. That,’ he went on, ‘is my way of saying sorry for calling you stupid.’ He tilted her head up. ‘Am I forgiven?’
Relief flooding through her that he was no longer cross, she smiled. ‘Yes. Am I forgiven for not telling you where I was going after work?’
‘Forgiven and forgotten,’ he said. ‘Go on, off you go and enjoy your bath. I’ll give you a shout when your supper is ready.’
‘I’m so lucky,’ she said later when she and Rick were lying on the sofa together. One of his hands was absently playing with her hair as they watched the latest episode ofLine of Duty.
‘Why’s that?’ he asked.
‘No real reason,’ she replied, ‘I just felt like saying the words out loud.’
‘You are funny,’ he said.
She snuggled in closer to him. ‘But then that’s why you love me, isn’t it?’
‘If you say so.’
She could tell he wasn’t really listening to her; his attention was focused on the enormous screen that took up most of the battleship-grey breeze-block wall. The TV was so large it almost felt like Steve Arnott and Kate Fleming were in the room with them. Her own attention wavering from the complexity of the plot – she’d lost her grip on it several episodes ago – she tried to imagine a baby in this freakishly tidy apartment. It was bad enough the clutter Willow had brought with her when she moved in (most of which had been shoved into a cupboard), heaven only knew what a child would do to it. She knew from friends that babies gathered stuff to them faster than a snowball rolling down a mountainside.
‘I was thinking,’ said Rick, his hand still winding a lock of her hair around his fingers, ‘that it might be better to chuck in your job now rather than keep going until you’re the size of a hot-air balloon.’
‘Hey,’ she said with a playful kick of her foot against his, ‘who says I’m going to be the size of a hot-air balloon?’
