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It was dark by the time everyone had gone.

Shutting the door to her pink room would communicate too obviously that she wanted to be alone.

Running a bath would not in and of itself telegraph disturbance; Adam knew she lived a heavily bath-based lifestyle.

But what if he did what he sometimes did, swung in with a glass of wine, sat on the toilet with the lid down, and gossiped to her?

She couldn’t face being perceived at that moment, let alone perceived naked.

What if she was in the bath and he didn’t swing by with a glass of wine?

Then she’d know he was angry, or disappointed, with her or others, or feeling some other negative emotion (because of, to, at, or around her).

She couldn’t go down and clean the kitchen because that was what he was doing—from the top of the stairs she could hear the cutlery slotting into the dishwasher.

They’d just concluded a full week of Zora-hampered communication.

Now she had unlimited time to speak to him and she didn’t know what to say.

“Partner’s ex is pregnant” she typed into Google on her phone.

Immediately the screen filled with first-person accounts of people whose partners’ exes were pregnant because the partners themselves had impregnated them.

Her own shocking jealousy and sudden despair were both too minor and too weird to have a relevant search result.

Adding to this mess was the issue of Adam’s birthday.

She was exhausted and still quite full from her showstopping stew at lunchtime.

Only the oysters remained as a birthday-level special food item, unless she wanted to rob Peter to pay Paul (get into the Christmas Day supplies early).

Adam would say he didn’t want a fuss made.

But that was something only someone confident of having a fuss made could say.

“You’re standing so still in the dark—are you hiding?” Adam was in the doorway.

“Sort of,” Coralie said. “Half hiding, half not sure what to do.”

“Yes.” He slid his shoulder around the doorframe and entered. “What a bombshell.”

“It was very Anne, just coming out with it. Very clap clinic and facts of life.”

“She was always like that.” Adam slumped down to sit on the floor. “When I had spots, she’d point at my face: ‘You’ve got spots.’ Thanks, I know!”

Coralie hopped up and sat on the desk with her feet on the seat of the chair. “She was going to tell Zora this week, and then us?”

“Marina?”

“I feel like she should have told us first, before she told Zora—so we could help with it? Becoming a big sister. It’s huge.”

“She seemed okay with it—Zora, I mean. She seemed happy.”

“I was fine for a few days when Daniel was born. Then I asked when we’d give him back. Marina’s due in April—that’s spring , that’s so soon. Why did she wait so long to tell anyone?”

“I don’t know what’s going on in Marina’s mind.”

“But you know what’s going on in her body.”

Suddenly all the air was gone from the room. Adam’s voice was tired and distant. “I had to say congratulations.”

“But you didn’t simply say congratulations! How much Nutella this time, Marina? Lock up your Nutella, Tom! Get lots of sleep now, enjoy it while you can!”

“I was trying to be nice. I was trying to show Zora it was fine.”

“You admit it’s not fine.”

“It’s not not-fine for me, and I’m the one this affects.”

“Oh. I see.” Coralie left the room but had nowhere to go and (seeking some kind of solace) rushed up to Zora’s bedroom, where she found Sally’s lovely artwork had left a paint smell, so she could at least feel useful by opening the window.

Adam staggered up, looking old. “So—is it not supposed to affect me? Or are you saying it’s you this affects?”

She was sobbing. “Of course it affects me—for someone else to get what I want. Merry fucking Christmas, Coralie! ‘What’s your status here?’ I don’t know, Anne, housekeeper and cook? Adam’s backup prize after Marina left him? I feel like the fucking woman in Rebecca !”

“Rebecca?”

“ Rebecca the book!”

“I know—I’m saying, are you Rebecca?”

“No!” Coralie almost screamed through tears. “That’s the whole point; Marina is Rebecca! I’m the narrator who doesn’t have a name!”

It appeared she had breached the anger/sadness barrier.

She’d become sad enough for Adam to care about her more than he hated conflict.

He walked toward her with his arms out. She fell into them.

He murmured into her hair. “What are you saying? You’re envious of Marina?

” Coralie nodded. “I know, it’s because she’s married to Tory Tom. ”

“When Marina was my age, she already had Zora.”

“She was too young when she had Zora, that’s all she kept telling me! And I still felt too young, even at thirty-three, and I probably did a terrible job. Any other child, anyone not as perfect as Zora—we would thoroughly have messed them up with what we did.”

“You didn’t even slightly mess up; you did amazingly with your divorce, the most mature divorce in England.”

“It was still shit.”

“Okay! But I’m the sad one, by the way! I’m the one getting questioned about my status . I’m the one having Christmas away from my family.”

“I’m glad I’m having Christmas away from my family,” Adam said. “I’ve never been as glad to say goodbye.”

“Well, me too, to be honest, about my family. And yours. But you’re not even having Christmas with me! You walked out on me at The Snowman ! You’re down there clanging the forks in the dishwasher!”

“You hate that,” Adam said, like he’d finally solved a mystery. “The clanging.”

“And you made fun of the house plans in front of Anne!”

“You know I shut down when Anne’s here!”

“It took me ages to make those house plans. Antoinette’s husband even helped—he’s doing the new flagship store for Yohji Yamamoto!

I’ve had the engineer in about the beam, about the rooflights—they have to be produced to order!

It’s all signed off by the council, Miss Mavis said yes about the party wall, the builders could start in January ! ”

“Hey…” He put his arms around her again.

“No one gets their plans approved that quickly. It was a full-time job in addition to my actual full-time job! I thought you were excited too!” Suddenly she was crying again. “All the money I’ve saved since I was nineteen has gone into that renovation! All of it!”

“I am , I am excited about the house plans. And about our life plans!”

“What life plans! That’s the whole point! I don’t see any life plans at all!”

“Hey…” He leaned back and studied her. “Where did all this come from?”

“We discussed all of this! I thought you wanted it too!”

“Are we still talking about the renovation?”

He was going to make her say the word baby . She couldn’t, she couldn’t be a woman crying about that. “We’ve talked about all of it, about everything,” she said. “Moving in, and then…” She trailed off. “You added writing a book in the plans, which is fine.”

“You added doing the house up—also fine.”

“But now I’m thirty-one and a half!”

“And a quarter! I let you get away with half to Mum. But not to me! Hey…” Adam reached for her. “We both want a baby, not just you. It’s our future. Our future, that we both want.”

He had said it. He’d said the word baby . She was back on solid ground. “Time’s already passed,” Coralie said. “The future’s suddenly now.”

“I didn’t realize it was now.” She had seen him make an effort of comprehension. Now he made an effort of adjustment. “Okay,” he stoutly said. “We’ll clear the decks and get on with it. Book, get it done. House, get it done. Wedding?”

“No wedding!” Spending a year on event planning was the last thing Coralie needed. Anyway, after the renovation, they wouldn’t have the money.

“Modern, unconventional—I like it. No wedding! Book, house, baby.”

It was unclear why his book had to be written for her to gestate their baby. But it would all be over by May. Five more months. That she could handle. She let out a long, relieved breath. “Book, house, baby.”

Adam pulled her in to his chest.

“All I have for birthday dinner are the oysters,” she mumbled after a while.

“You wouldn’t be allowed to cook anyway. I’m going to run you a bath. You can choose a cup, a duck, a Barbie, or a Ken, whatever you like to have in there with you. No? Okay, I’ll get you a glass of wine. Then while you’re in the bath, I’ll cycle to a little place we like to call…”

“Bella Vita.”

“Bella Vita, for pizza, and when I come back, it will be just us, together, no more visitors, no more birthday, nothing left to do. And when we wake up, Christmas is a lovely day with no work emails. It’s a No Pressure Day. Okay?”

“Okay.”

He went downstairs to the bathroom. Slowly, she followed him. She heard him wrench on the hot tap. He opened the linen cupboard and got her a fresh towel. He pressed it into her arms and cried in a gently satirical voice: “He’s doing the new flagship store for Yohji Yamamoto!”

“Stop!”

“I love you so much,” Adam said.

“I love you.”