Chapters (40)
- Cover
- About the Author
- PENGUIN BOOKS
- Dedication
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-one
- Twenty-two
- Twenty-three
- Twenty-four
- Twenty-five
- Twenty-six
- Twenty-seven
- Twenty-eight
- Twenty-nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-one
- Thirty-two
- Thirty-three
- Thirty-four
- Thirty-five
- THE BEGINNING
He barged out of the kitchen, shouting for Gary, telling everyone that Sarah’s baby was on its way, it was an emergency. Soon everyone knew. Women clustered around Sarah, giving her advice, telling her to breathe calmly, to hold on. They helped her to her feet and, bent double, she stumbled towards the door. The men bundled Gary into his coat, checked he hadn’t drunk too much to drive safely, patted him on his back, handed him his car keys. Karen rushed to the fridge, where she pulled out a bottle of mineral water for them, and Mac, in a fit of tipsy generosity, wrung the rubbery stalks off the winter clematis that stood in a pot in the hall, and pushed them into Gary’s hand.
‘The bag,’ said Gary. He clutched the flowers and gazed at them with a nonplussed air. ‘The bag they tell you to pack. I haven’t got it. A nightdress and spare underwear; water spray and fruit juice and coins for the phone box … It’s not supposed to be yet …’
‘Don’t worry about the bag,’ they said.
‘I was going to make a special tape and get some massage oil …’
‘Just get to the hospital. Ring us. Good luck.’
Everyone saw them out of the door, and several of them followed them onto the pavement, shouting encouragement.
‘It’s a labour party,’ someone said and an excited laugh ran round the party.
Adrian saw them into the car, shutting the door on the sound of Sarah’s sudden howl, and then he went back to the kitchen. There were a few people in the garden smoking; he saw their dark shapes huddled together and the glowing tips of the cigarettes, the sudden flare of a match. For a minute, he felt quite lost and in his panic wished that Irene were here with him, for all the reasons that he sometimes wanted so badly to escape her – that she could see right through him; that with her he knew exactly who he was, and where his boundaries lay. There was a boulder on his heart, and suddenly he felt that he was about to cry. He helped himself to another glass of champagne, turned round as he lifted it to his lips, found he was staring into the face of Frankie.