Anna smiled but didn’t allow herself to laugh, but Thomas erupted into fits of giggles and Sam frowned at him, looked almost ready to tip over into tears of frustration.
‘No, baby,’ Anna said, tapping him on the nose. He had a Rice Krispie stuck to his cheek and she had no idea how he’d managed it, how he always managed it. There was milk spilled on his place mat. On Thomas’s too. ‘Too means as well. Like, I might say we were all going on a walk, me, you, Thomas and Daddy too.’
‘Oh!’ Sam looked delighted with his new nugget of knowledge. ‘Daddy too!’
Anna knew he would use this word endlessly now. She glanced at her watch. They needed to leave in ten minutes.
‘Can I take something in for show and tell?’ Thomas asked, breaking into her thoughts.
‘Yes, what do you want to take?’
‘That dinosaur we made out of a milk bottle.’
Anna wanted to protest – she was terrible at craft and she was embarrassed for anyone to see the mess they’d made, butthen she realised it was ridiculous. Thomas had loved making it, and he wanted to show it to his friends. Who was she to stand in his way just because she thought it looked more like a camel with a broken neck than a stegosaurus?
‘Of course,’ she said.
‘And can I take something?’ Sam asked.
‘You’re not going to nursery today,’ Anna said. ‘It’s a mummy day.’
She waited for Thomas to protest that it wasn’t fair, that he didn’t get a day at home with her. She always explained, as patiently as she could, that he’d had his time with her before school, and now it was Sam’s turn, but Thomas didn’t say anything. Perhaps he was growing up. Perhaps he was beginning to understand things, to accept them. Or perhaps a day at home with her didn’t have the same appeal as it once had. He picked up his bowl and put it down by the dishwasher without her having to ask. One day, she realised, they would both do this. One day not so far in the future, she wouldn’t have to remind them to do things like brush their teeth and put their shoes on. She had longed for these things, but somehow, there was a sadness to realising they were getting there. That Thomas had less need of her.
When they’d dropped Thomas off at school, the dinosaur handed over to the teacher in a carrier bag, Anna took hold of Sam’s hand. She could see Steve out of the corner of her eye, and she wanted him to call out to her, and she didn’t, too. Sometimes, they chatted for a bit before going off in different directions. She didn’t like to admit how much of a difference it made to her, the days they did that. She walked slowly, one hand in Sam’s, hoping Steve would appear at her side.
‘Do you want to go to playgroup?’ she asked Sam.
Sam shrugged. ‘Not really.’
He could be an easy child, at times. A handful at others. She’d heard friends say that second children just slotted in, which was exactly what Sam had done, but she’d also heard they could be more naughty, more adventurous, more to handle. Which was also true.
‘Hey, Anna.’
Anna turned to see Steve dodging through the crowd to get to her.
‘Hi,’ she said when he reached her. She bent down and picked Sam up, and then she wasn’t sure why she’d done that.
‘How are things?’ Steve asked.
‘Not bad,’ Anna said. ‘Sam and I were just trying to decide whether to go to playgroup.’
‘Not playgroup,’ Sam said, and Steve laughed.
‘Well, sounds like that decision’s been made, then,’ Anna said.
‘Listen,’ Steve said. ‘Do you have time for a coffee?’
This was new. Since that time in the coffee shop when he’d made his feelings clear, things had changed between them. They had the odd five-minute chat at the school gate, yes, but they didn’t go for coffee. Not any more.
‘Sure. Do you want to come back to mine? Sam can play, then.’
Steve nodded, his jaw set. And Anna slid Sam down off her hip and they fell into step for the familiar walk home.
Anna had no intention of telling Steve what had happened the previous week, but as they sat there on the sofa, Sam colouring on the floor, she found the words tumbling out.
‘I had a… a miscarriage,’ she said quietly.
‘Shit,’ he whispered. ‘I had no idea you were… I mean, I thought you’d said you weren’t going to have another one.’
