‘Er, me.’
Anna bit into one of the eclairs and Edward took a bite from the other end and she pushed him away, playfully.
‘Get your own!’
‘These are my own. I put these in the basket!’
Anna was on the edge of sleep when the thought crept in. She had to ask Edward straight away. She put a hand out and touched his shoulder. ‘Are you still awake?’ she whispered.
‘Just.’
Anna sat up, pulled him up a little too. ‘Three years ago,’ she said, ‘on our anniversary, you asked if I wanted to try for a baby.’
‘I did,’ he agreed.
‘And I did, and we did, and now we have Thomas.’
‘I know all this,’ Edward said, rubbing his eyes.
‘Well, I was wondering how you’d feel about having another one?’
Edward looked at her, checking that she was serious. ‘I didn’t think you’d want to, so soon.’
‘Well, in for a penny and all that,’ she said. ‘I mean, he’s our life now, isn’t he? And I’d like him to have someone. And I think I might be better at it, second time around.’
‘You’re good at it,’ he said. ‘Don’t think you’re not good at it.’
Anna smiled. ‘I’ve found it hard,’ she said. ‘There’s no denying that. But I think it was partly the shock of it, and I know what it’s like now. I think we should do it again.’
Edward lay back down and smiled. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘You know how I feel about kids. I’d have a whole bunch of them. Yes.’
Anna kissed the tip of his nose, and a second later, he was asleep. He always found it easier than her, in new and different places, to rest. She lay awake for a little longer, thinking of theway Thomas’s face had looked on the screen when they’d called him earlier, the way he’d tried to put his arms around them, the way it had made her feel. Loved, in love. Why did she always doubt herself? Maybe if they had another one, her confidence would kick in. Maybe she would find her stride, and be the together one. She tried to imagine another baby, a girl, perhaps. Or a second boy. Tried to imagine Thomas as a big brother. She felt a little fizzy with the excitement of it, and it was a long time before she relaxed enough to sleep.
7
NO
Thursday 5 June 2003
‘New York?’ Anna repeated, making it a question.
‘New York,’ Deborah confirmed.
‘As in…’
‘As in the Empire State Building and the Statue of Liberty, yes.’
‘As in Carrie Bradshaw and yellow cabs and massive pretzels?’
‘I don’t know how else to say it, Anna,’ Deborah said, a smile in her voice.
They were in a coffee shop in Soho, where Anna thought they’d come to talk about a new campaign she’d been planning.
‘But why me?’ Anna asked.
Deborah sat forward in her chair, drained her coffee, and fixed her steely gaze on Anna. ‘It’s a programme we run; anyone’s eligible to apply. I just think you’d be great for it. Or maybe it would be great for you.’
Anna remembered hearing about it when she’dfirst started. Whispers of some people getting to go to New York for a year. She’d ignored it; thought it was an urban myth. Like the rumours about bosses sometimes letting you go home at lunchtime on Christmas Eve that had circulated at every single office she’d ever worked in. She realised Deborah was still speaking and tuned back in.
