The name on the screen, in all caps, wasBig Man. Dan canceled him coyly and put the phone back in his pocket. They both paid attention to their bagels.
“Put me out of my misery,” Dan said after a bit. “How was Roger?”
Coralie swallowed her last mouthful. “Ugh!”
“I know. Did you do hotel Christmas with Jenny?”
“We weren’t invited!”
Dan gasped. “You went to Canberra to see them!”
“We had Boxing Day together, at Ruby Chinese Restaurant. In Dickson, remember?”
“I hardly remember Canberra.”
“Well, the food was really nice. We saw Edwin, Jenny’s son, who’s alsonice. He works for Deloitte. They both speak Mandarin, so they ordered for us. I’ve met Jenny once before, but have you ever met her?”
Dan looked away. “Nope.”
“I was struck by how she managed Dad. She had a little more wriggle room. Mum wouldn’t have dreamed of taking liberties!”
“Liberties like what?”
“Jenny still works at Australia Post—she has a job. But mainly it was the fact that she laughed at him. Just a tiny bit. She rolled her eyes when he wiped his chopsticks down with a napkin.”
“I forgot he always did that.”
“And Florence was doing her best, but she was jet-lagged and exhausted, and squashed into a high chair, which she hates. Dad gritted his teeth—you could see his jaw actually clenching. He asked if I could ‘sort her out.’ Jenny gently put her hand on his arm. And after a second he shook it off, but he didn’t say anything else.”
“Yeah, you better sort that baby out.” Dan made a face. “Did he ask you any questions?”
“Only why we didn’t visit more and why we weren’t staying any longer.”
“Hmm, I wonder why.”
“I guess we’ll never know!”
“Did he mention Mum?”
“He didn’t,” Coralie said.
“Did he mention me?”
She didn’t know which answer he’d like best, so she just told the truth. “No.”
“Well, as long as he doesn’t come here.” Dan stared off into the distance. “Everything should be fine.”
At home, she unwrapped the pregnancy test and placed it next to her on the sink.
But when she pulled down her underwear, she found it was stained with blood.
13
Adam was doing the newspaper roundup on Andrew Marr’s curvy orange sofa at the BBC’s new Broadcasting House. “Back me or get Jeremy Corbyn and no Brexit,” he read from theMail on Sunday. “Prime Minister Theresa May warns MPs against voting down her EU withdrawal deal—as she reveals how she keeps calm by eatingpeanut butterout of the jar.”
“Peanut bupper?”
“That’s right, Cheep-Cheep.” Coralie turned back to the television as Florence, still in her pajamas, ran off toward the pantry.
