There was an empty seat opposite the stairs, and Libby slid into it. Dylan sat down next to her, their bodies not quite touching. Neither of them spoke as the bus made its way down Regent Street, and Libby stared out the window at the shoppers and tourists milling past so she didn’t have to look at him. She and Dylan had done this journey together many times, yet now she felt as if she were sitting next to a stranger.
“How have you been?” Libby said when she couldn’t bear the strained atmosphere any longer.
“All right. You?”
“Fine, thanks. How’s Esme?”
“Good. She was gutted she couldn’t make today; I think she’s more excited about this reunion than the rest of us put together.”
“Please give her my love.”
They stared forward as the bus approached Piccadilly Circus.
“How’s Hector?” Dylan said.
“He’s okay. Still driving my sister mad with his loud music. The woman next door has been banging on the wall so much, I think she might break through it one day.”
Dylan sniffed. “Sorry. I think I might be to blame for that one. Is he—”
“There’s something I want to say,” Libby blurted out, interrupting him.
He looked at her and she halted. What the hell was it she wanted to say?
“I wanted to... er... apologize. You... you know, for not meeting you to put up the last posters and for ignoring your messages and being so rude on the phone.”
“It’s fine,” Dylan said, and he turned to look forward again.
“No, it’s not fine, Dylan. I’ve had a weird few weeks and I didn’t know what to—”
“You don’t have to explain anything.”
“But I do. You see...” Libby paused, suddenly unsure she should carry on. But what harm could it do? This might be the last time she ever saw Dylan, so she might as well tell him the truth. “I’m pregnant.”
The words still felt strange to say out loud, here on the bus. Libby heard Dylan inhale.
“Wow! Well... congratulations.”
“Thank you,” she said formally, not sure what else to say. “It was totally unexpected, so it’s taken me a bit of time to get used to the idea.”
“I’m sure. How do you feel about it now?”
“I’m happy about it,” Libby said, and as she looked across at Dylan, she saw his face soften.
“Then I’m happy for you too, Libby. It’s great news.”
“Yes, I think it is. I mean, it’s certainly not how I’d planned to have a baby, but I feel lucky.”
“How many weeks are you?”
“Sixteen.”
“Oh.” She could see the confusion in Dylan’s face. “Then...”
“Simon is the father, yeah.”
“Wow,” Dylan said, and that word seemed loaded with understanding. He was the one person, Libby realized, whom she’d been completely honest with about her feelings about Simon. “And how has he taken the news?”
“Oh, brilliantly. It turns out he’s moved his new girlfriend into our house, and a baby doesn’t exactly fit into their life plans, so he wants nothing to do with it.”
