‘This one’s educational.’ I hastily whip the price tag off the Magic Drawing Easel. ‘And it was really cheap. Have some more mulled wine!’ I pour him another glass, then reach for a hat with two red sparkly pom-poms. It’s the cutest thing, and they had them in baby sizes, too.
If we had another baby, it could wear a pom-pom hat to match Minnie’s. People would call them The Children in the Pom-Pom Hats.
I have a sudden alluring image of myself walking down the street with Minnie. She’d be pushing her toy pram with a dolly in it and I’d be pushing a pram with a real baby in it. She’d have a friend for life. It would all be so perfect …
‘Becky? Sellotape? Becky?’
Suddenly I realize Luke’s said my name about four times. ‘Oh! Sorry! Here you are. Isn’t this lovely?’ I jiggle the red pompoms at Luke. ‘They had them for babies, too.’
I leave a significant pause, letting the word ‘babies’ hang in the air and using all my powers of marital telepathy.
‘This Sellotape is crap. It’s all shredded.’ He discards it impatiently.
Huh. So much for marital telepathy. Maybe I should introduce the subject by stealth. Suze once persuaded her husband Tarkie to go on a package holiday to Disneyland so stealthily that he didn’t even realize where they were going till they were on the plane. Mind you, Tarkie is Tarkie (sweet, unsuspicious, usually thinking about Wagner or sheep). And Luke is Luke (totally on the case and always thinking I’m up to something. Which I am NOT.)
‘So that’s fantastic news about Arcodas,’ I say casually. ‘And the house.’
‘Isn’t it great?’ Luke’s face cracks briefly into a smile.
‘It’s like all the pieces of the jigsaw are falling into place. At least, nearly all the pieces.’ I leave another meaningful pause, but Luke doesn’t even notice.
What’s the point of peppering your conversation with meaningful pauses if no one notices? I’ve had enough of being stealthy, it’s totally overrated.
‘Luke, let’s have another baby!’ I say in a rush. ‘Tonight!’
There’s silence. For an instant I wonder whether Luke even heard. Then he raises his head, looking totally astonished.
‘Are you nuts?’
I stare back at him, affronted.
‘Of course I’m not nuts! I think we should have a little brother or sister for Minnie. Don’t you?’
‘My petal.’ Luke sits back on his heels. ‘We can’t control one child. How on earth would we control two? You saw the way she behaved today.’
Not him, too.
‘What are you saying?’ I can’t help sounding hurt. ‘Do you think Minnie’s spoiled?’
‘I’m not saying that,’ Luke says carefully. ‘But you have to admit, she’s out of control.’
‘No she’s not!’
‘Look at the facts. She’s been banned from four Santa’s Grottos.’ He ticks off on his fingers. ‘And St Paul’s Cathedral. Not to mention the incident at Harvey Nichols and the fiasco at my office.’
Is he going to hold that against her for ever? They shouldn’t have expensive artwork on the walls, is what I say. They’re supposed to be working, not walking around looking at art all day.
‘She’s just spirited,’ I say defensively. ‘Maybe a baby would be good for her.’
‘And drive us insane.’ Luke shakes his head. ‘Becky, let’s hold our horses on this one, OK?’
I feel crushed. I don’t want to hold my horses. I want to have two children in matching pom-pom hats.
‘Luke, I’ve really thought about this carefully. I want Minnie to have a lifelong friend and not grow up an only child. And I want our children to be close in age, not years apart. And I’ve got a hundred quid’s worth of vouchers for Baby World which I never spent!’ I add, suddenly remembering. ‘They’ll expire soon!’
‘Becky.’ Luke rolls his eyes. ‘We’re not having another baby just because we’ve got some vouchers for Baby World.’
‘That’s not why we’d have the baby!’ I say, indignantly. ‘That was just an extra reason.’
Trust him to pick on that. He’s just avoiding the issue.
‘So what do you mean? That you never want another baby?’
A guarded look flashes over Luke’s face. For a moment he doesn’t answer, but finishes wrapping the present, straightening every corner perfectly and smoothing the Sellotape down with his thumbnail. He looks exactly like someone putting off talking about something which is a sore point.