– I could live in this library.

She giggles.

– I’m so glad you are here, Jessie. He—

Elise points and pulls hard on her pipe, nods at him.

– He insisted I read everything. So when we travel he can talk without being bored.

– You still bore me, he says, waking a little, eyes still closed.

– So far, I like Jack London.

– You liked Gertrude Stein.

– That’s only because she was nice to us in Paris, and she has all those painters in her salon. I don’t understand what she writes but she introduced me to a man called Picasso. They say he has invented some kind of new painting, something to change everything.

– Picasso won’t do a fucking thing! He’s in Spain with a lover, not painting!

Mr Udnam takes the pipe.

– I like Baum – what’s it called, that book? Elise clicks her fingers.

– The Wonderful Wizard of Oz! What a bag of shite.

– No! It’s a great story! I don’t rate all the things you like! Sudermann, Apollinaire, Henry James. All tedious as fuck if you ask me, darling. Chekhov, I suppose, had a few decent stories, I don’t see what the fuss is about him personally.

She says it to me, not him.

– What have you read, Jessie? He looks at me.

– The Bible, three times in full and a chapter every Sunday, sir.

I stand before them naked and curtsy.

Mirth dissipates.

They both gaze at my stomach.

It has grown four inches since I slept. Noticeably round. A fine dark line trails down from my belly button. I am not sure how they are going to take this but I am pretty sure the child will be here by Wednesday morning.

– Did you hear the Earl of Bute is going to fly a plane? He designed it himself.

Elise is trying to distract him.

– We’re not meant to fly. Think of Icarus. Jessie… what’s happening?

My stomach rises half an inch.

– How long? Mr Udnam roars.

He pours a brandy and looks at me with red-rimmed eyes.

– You’re a witch?

– No.

I am close to tears. It is so unlike me.

His fiancée steps away from him and holds her hand out to me. His eyes blacken.

– We’ll sleep in the lady’s room.

He nods.

I am led down the hallway like a feeble child.

Inside me forms a heart. Legs. Ribs. Feet, nails, skin, a brain.

Elise’s hand is cool.

– Come on, into bed, that’s it, rest on the pillow. I’ve wanted a baby for so long, we won’t let him ruin it, okay?

Nod.

She takes a seat in front of three mirrors on her dressing table and opens a pot of cream.

– It’s almond oil and benzoin, I use spermaceti and lanolin to make my skin clearer too but you don’t need that, do you?

My belly button pops out.