Annabelle stared at Jake as if she had been slapped. Kate had never seen her lost for words. Her cheeks were hollow, her mouth slightly agape. She sat perfectly still except for her hands, which fidgeted in her lap like small birds.
Chris took his napkin and, folding it up neatly, put it on the side of the table.
‘Well I think that’s something else to celebrate, don’t you?’ Chris said and it was the longest sentence he’d uttered since the meal began. He began filling their glasses and when he got to Annabelle’s, he leaned across the table and smiled at her, nodding his head as though encouraging a young child.
‘Thank you, Chris,’ Kate said.
‘Yes, thanks, Dad.’
‘Can’t have been easy,’ Chris was saying now. ‘I admire that you haven’t given up.’
‘Are you all right, Mum?’ Jake asked.
‘What? Oh. Yes. Yes. Perfectly all right. I’m sorry. I’m just … taking it all in.’
Kate reached out and pressed her hand softly against Annabelle’s upper arm. The silk felt cool and soft and slightly sticky beneath her palm.
‘It does take a while to get your head round it,’ Kate said. ‘Sorry to spring it on you like this.’
Annabelle turned towards her.
‘But … surely you can’t be serious?’ she asked, with those sharp, hawkish eyes. ‘How do you know this Marisa woman?’
‘We met her through a surrogacy network,’ Jake answered, even though Annabelle was still looking directly at Kate, her distaste evident in the twist of her mouth.
‘It’s all above board,’ Jake said. ‘We’ve signed an agreement and we will be the legal parents—’
Annabelle cut across him. ‘Legally, maybe, but what about genetically? These kinds of things areimportant. Especially for men. I read somewhere that they need their babies to look like them so that they can bond.’
Kate almost laughed. Then she almost cried.
‘It’s not what we would have chosen,’ Kate said quietly.
‘But it’s where we are,’ Jake interjected smoothly. ‘Besides, nurture is far more important than nature.’ He paused and Annabelle lifted her fist to her mouth as if she were about to cough, but no sound came.
‘There are similarities where it matters,’ Jake continued. He told her a bit about Marisa’s background, emphasising the fact that she was an artist, which he knew would appeal to Annabelle’s cultural snobbishness.
‘An artist?’ Annabelle shrieked. ‘She must be desperate for cash. How much are you paying her?’
‘We’re not paying her anything,’ Jake said, ‘because that would be illegal.’ He left a pointed gap in the conversation before taking up the thread again. ‘We pay her reasonable expenses.’
‘What, like her rent? How much is that setting you back?’
‘Annabelle,’ Chris said softly. He made a shushing sound and motioned up and down with his hand, as though pushing a quiz show buzzer.
Annabelle took a deep breath. She exhaled impatiently, then poured herself some sparkling water.
‘We’re not paying her rent—’
‘That’s something, I suppose,’ Annabelle said.
‘Because she’s living with us.’
Annabelle put down her glass so quickly, the water spilled over the edges.
‘She’slivingwith you? Are you … I mean … have you … have you both taken leave of your senses? Surely that’s far too close for comfort? This isn’t parenthood, it’s a ménage a trois! Is the idea that you’ll have to’ – her voice dropped to a whisper – ‘impregnateher?’
Kate could have hit her. Instead, she rose from the table and walked briskly to the loo. She almost lost her footing on the stone spiral staircase on the way down to the basement. She locked the cubicle door behind her and tried to regulate her breathing. When she emerged, there was an older woman standing at the basin next to her, reapplying lipstick in a virulent shade of pink.
