‘Yep, that would be good. I’ll keep an eye on Sam.’
Sam was one of those babies who would go to anyone, so Anna headed off without worrying about leaving him. And all the time she was crossing the road, queueing up, giving her order, she was thinking about what Steve had said. That things were rocky, that he didn’t know whether he wanted to salvage them. When she got back, she handed a cardboard cup to Steve and sat down.
‘Sam okay?’ she asked.
‘Well, he got into a bit of trouble with a gang but I set him back on the straight and narrow.’
‘And the other two?’
‘Over there.’ Steve pointed, and Anna saw that Thomas and Luke were still lost in a world of make-believe. But then, as if they’d known they were being talked about, the two boys thundered over and said they were hungry.
‘You’ve had your morning snack. I haven’t brought anything with me,’ Steve said.
Thomas looked at Anna pleadingly, knowing she always had something stashed in the changing bag.
‘It’s too close to lunch,’ she said. She looked at Steve. ‘What are your plans?’
Steve shrugged. ‘Cheese sandwich?’
‘Do you fancy heading back to ours? I mean, it’ll be one of those whatever’s-in-the-fridge lunches. I think we’ve got some ham and cheese, carrot sticks, bread…’
Thomas and Luke gave a little cheer, and Anna smiled.
‘That would be great,’ Steve said.
So they walked back together, Thomas and Luke going ahead, holding hands. Anna pushed the buggy with a sleepy Sam inside. And she realised, because of the absence of the feeling, that she’d been feeling lonely lately. It was strange, to feel lonely when you were never alone. But you couldn’t have a proper conversation with children so young, and they had so much need, it was overwhelming. It was nice to walk beside Steve, to chat and joke about their day-to-day and the programmes they watched endlessly on CBeebies.
When they were all inside the house, Anna left Steve watching the kids in the lounge while she pulled things out of the fridge. She cut up some bread and put it on the table along with the butter. Grated cheese. Sliced some cucumber and pepper. Opened bags of crisps.
‘This looks great,’ Steve said, coming into the dining room.
‘I’m letting everyone fill their own plate,’ she said. ‘I know what Thomas can be like if I dare to put something he doesn’t like on his. Taking it off later does not make up for the offence.’
‘Yes, I can be like that,’ Steve said, and Anna laughed.
‘Come on, guys,’ Anna called, and the older boys came into the room. Anna went to get Sam and lifted him into his highchair. He was just starting to eat solids, and Anna had a sudden memory of how stressful she’d found this stage with Thomas. This time around, she was hardly pureeing anything. She put a carrot stick, a slice of cucumber, a finger of cheese and some bread on his tray and let him get on with it. Back in the kitchen, she ran the tap and reached for the bottle of orange squash.
When she turned, Steve was behind her, a little closer than she was used to. Anna was overly aware of her body, of her lips. She met Steve’s eye, and it was like he was asking her a question.
‘Steve,’ she said, her voice a little croaky.
He reached out a hand and brushed her hair from her face. ‘Yes?’
And just when she was sure he was going to kiss her, or at least try to kiss her, there was a cry from the dining room and they both bolted in there and found Thomas lying on the carpet, his hands clutching his head, which looked to be bleeding.
‘What happened?’ Anna asked, feeling hysterical.
She knew what had happened. He’d been swinging on his chair, like he did every mealtime, and he’d fallen, like she always predicted he would. But it felt like a punishment for what she’d been about to do.
‘I don’t know what to do,’ she said, turning to Steve.
She’d attended a baby first aid course when Thomas was six weeks old. They’d covered cuts and bumps and burns and falls, and more serious stuff like choking and the recovery position. But Anna didn’t remember any of it. She had thought at the time that she wouldn’t. Her brain was mush from lack of sleep, and Thomas breastfed through about 80 per cent of the two-hour course.
‘Grab a tea towel to hold on the cut,’ Steve said. ‘Then I’ll look after Sam while you take him to A&E.’
Anna fetched a clean tea towel and pressed it to Thomas’s head. He was wailing. She sat him back on his chair and gave him a big cuddle, got him to hold the tea towel in place while she started to gather some things together, shouting instructions at Steve as she went.
‘He might take a bottle, worth a try. And then he’ll go down for a nap. His sleeping bag is in his cot, upstairs. Are you sure you and Luke don’t mind staying here?’
