Page 145 of The Surrender

“Amelia.” Anouska spots me and hurries over, flanking me as I walk. “I didn’t want to disturb Jude while he’s in his session.”

“What’s up?”

“The Valentine’s Day menu needs approving.”

“Really? We’ve not even served the Christmas menu.”

“You know Jude’s efficient.”

I laugh. “Yes, I know. So what’s on it?”

Anouska hands me her iPad. “Every aphrodisiac known to man.”

My mouth waters as I scan the set menu. “Sounds delicious.” I smile. “I approve.”

“Perfect. I’ll let Chef know. And while I have you, housekeeping has asked how many guests you have this evening.”

“I need four rooms. Three doubles and a family for Charley, Lloyd, and the kids.”

“You got it.”

“Oh, and Casey and Rhys. They’re coming too.” I see the happiness in Anouska’s eyes. “It’ll be the first time all three of them have been together on the anniversary of Evelyn’s death.”

She nods, not needing to say anything. “And have you thought any more about making your input around here permanent?” Her eyebrows rise, and I smile as I wander off. Everyone knows I’m not going back to finance. I’m too content helping around Arlington Hall. My hands instinctively go to my bump, my inhale deep, my exhale full of peace. I’m never leaving.

Jude’s still in the gym when I get there, and I watch as Eric puts resistance against his shin as he tries to raise his leg, the strain on his face painful to see. “You’ve got this, baby,” I whisper, mentally encouraging him. He must feel I’m here, always does, because he turns his attention away from Eric mid-exercise and chat, finding me. And the session is over. Eric helps him up and slaps his shoulder, throwing a towel into his bare chest.

Jude makes his way to the door, wiping his face. I know he feels the lingering ache in his leg more acutely straight after a session. His limp is particularly obvious today, but I don’t mention it.

As soon as I’m within reach, he scoops me up and carries me across his arms out of the spa. I hold the straw of his drink at his lips as I sipmy own and he bobs me up and down, as if gauging my weight. “I’d say another two pounds,” he muses.

“Since yesterday?”

“Yep.”

“Jesus, put me down.”

“This is part of my rehab. Shut up.” He turns and pushes his back into a door, slurping more of his Amelia as he negotiates my body through the opening and heads down the corridor to the studios.

“I approved the Valentine’s Day menu.”

“What’s on it?”

“Sexy food.”

He chuckles. “Did you book us a table?”

“No, because I don’t know if we’ll be able to find a babysitter for the night.”

His smile is blazing as he helps himself to his drink again. “If we can’t, we’ll get room service.” Turning again, he pushes his way into one of the studios.

A smiling Glenda greets us, her hippy-dippy aura drenching the room. “Children,” she sings, opening her arms. “Welcome. Please, please, join the circle.”

There’s a gap on the other side of the room, in between two fellow pregnant women. Jude walks us round and places me down by the mat laid out, taking the drinks and putting them out of the way. “Sit,” he says, helping me down to my arse. I wince and hold my breath as he lowers behind me, not because I’m uncomfortable, but because I know he is. I’ve given up nagging him. He wants to do this. In fact, this antenatal class that’s been running weekly at Arlington Hall since he was discharged was entirely his doing. And, actually, very popular—hence the room’s full. “I’m fine,” he whispers, cradling me between his thighs. His hands come under my arms and rest on my huge pregnant belly, his chin on my shoulder.

I glance around, smiling at the smiles coming back at us. Rachel is dead opposite me, Clark behind her. I wave, and she waves right back.

Placing my hands over Jude’s, I breathe in deep, feeling him doing the same. Glenda’s energy is something else. You can’t help but be serene when you’re around her. “Are you sure I can’t ask her to be our full-time baby coach?” Jude whispers in my ear.