‘Well...’ Spud popped the last of his scampi into his mouth and wiped his hands on the paper napkin before flinging it into the puddle of tartare sauce and breadcrumbs that sat in the middle of his plate. ‘I have to say that for someone who’s just returned from the Maldives, you look mightily down in the dumps! Did none of that sunshine and relaxed living rub off on you?’

‘Not exactly.’

‘Half your luck...! I think Kumi and I celebrated our one-year anniversary by sharing a tub of raspberry ripple and having sex. In fact...’ He sipped his drink. ‘...that might actually have been the last time we had sex.’

Theo abandoned his grey burger and chips and pushed the plate away with a sigh. ‘I just don’t know—’

‘Well, we both know that you do know, but you’re just deciding whether to confide in me or not.’

Theo gave a wry smile. It was impossible to fool his best mate. ‘Okay...’ He took a slug of his drink. ‘The villa was incredible, right on the water, with a deck and all the bells and whistles. Anna was so excited to be there and it was brilliant seeing her happiness – it was the first time she’d been somewhere like that. And there was the usual champagne on arrival, blue sky, bluer sea...’ He rolled his hand in the air. ‘You get the gist.’

‘I do and I can see why you’d be so miserable – it sounds bloody awful.’ Spud sipped his pint.

Theo rubbed his hand over his face. ‘I love her.’

‘I know.’

‘But it’s the having-kids issue that keeps on cropping up.’

‘It’s going to, mate. You’ve been married a year, it’s what she wants, and rightly or not, it’s what others expect too. And it’s a big thing, a pressure, the biggest inside a marriage, I would think – certainly it is in ours. Kumi is already pushing for number two and I’m still trying to get my head around the fact that number one is here to stay!’

Theo wasn’t in the mood for humour. ‘Anna thinks having a family will be the thing that cements us.’

‘It might be,’ Spud offered supportively.

‘But I don’t think so, not for me. I haven’t learnt the things you did. The way you talk about your dad, like he’s your mate, and all the experiences you’ve had together...’ He paused. ‘And now you’re a dad too and you just take it all in your stride. I’ve had none of that – I wouldn’t know where to start.’ He fingered the fishing fly on his lapel, trying to calm his agitation.

‘Everyone feels like that and, trust me, no matter how or where or by whom you were raised, nothing prepares you for having one of your own. You just have to try and figure it out as you go along. Kumi and I have had such different experiences, but I think that’s what makes it work. Miyu will have balance.’

Theo shook his head and shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

‘You’re shaking your head like you don’t believe me,’ Spud said.

‘It’s not that I don’t believe you, it’s just...’

‘Is it partly to do with Kitty and stuff?’

Theo gave a small sigh and looked towards the window, tapping his fingertips on the tabletop. He was someone who discussed land prices, wine, the weather, cars, politics, food and sport – not ‘stuff’. He swallowed and spoke slowly. ‘I know very few people who grow older with the express desire not to become a parent; some do, I’m sure, but I feel like an oddity, like I’m going against the grain.’

‘But you are a parent!’ Spud said quietly.

‘Yes. But not in any way that anyone would notice, not in any way that counts! Fucking hell, I don’t even know if my child is a boy or a girl. And I do know that the mother took one look at me and ran for the bloody hills!’ He said this a little louder and more sternly than he intended and certainly than he was comfortable with. He wiped the corners of his mouth with his thumb and forefinger. ‘I’m sorry, Spud, it’s a subject I find difficult enough to fence with at home, let alone having to do it here in the pub too.’

‘No need to apologise, mate. It’s raw, I get it, but the fact that it makes you so mad means it is unresolved.’

‘I guess.’ Theo stretched out his legs and crossed his ankles.

‘Have you told Anna about—’

‘No.’ Theo shook his head. ‘How can I? I tried when we first got together, I’ve tried many other times and I did actually try again when we were in the Maldives, but... well, we were having a row, and she looked so broken already, so I chickened out and ended up telling her about my so-called brother Alexander. And she thought that was shocking enough.’ He shook his head. ‘Christ, she is so intent on becoming a mother, she even writes to her future kids! She’s given them names, Fifi and Fox, and she scribbles notes to them, telling them all sorts. Who the fuck does that? It’s the most enormous pressure.’

‘I think part of the pressure is that you’re keeping a secret that’s directly related to what she wants most. Your kid with Kitty, not telling Anna and her drive to become a mum, it’s all different parts of the same problem.’

Theo looked at his mate. ‘You think I don’t know that?’ He nodded. ‘But how can I have another child when there is already one in the world that I have nothing to do with?’ The nerve in his jaw twitched angrily. ‘I can’t do it.’

‘I think it’s a shame. You have so much to offer a child.’

‘You mean the money, the house.’

‘No, mate.’ Spud laughed. ‘Not the money! It’s not about that, although that helps. What you have to offer are all the good things that make you you. You’re funny and smart, and you’re kind, Theo, one of the good guys, and those are not bad qualities to pass on, to share.’

‘Thank you.’ He meant it. ‘And you’re right, no amount of money in the bank matters when the world feels like a hostile place.’ He pictured himself as a child crying into his pillow. ‘But what I don’t have, I suppose, is the... the confidence.’

‘You think I don’t know that?’ Spud countered.

Theo gave him a dry smile; his friend’s humour was stronger than his own dark mood. ‘Truth is, I’ve always been worried about turning out like my father, and then the Kitty thing happened and it made me exactly like him!’

‘No, it didn’t. He had his circumstances, of which you know very little, and you had yours. All your choices were taken out of your hands – you are not a bad person, Theo, quite the opposite.’

‘I’m not sure Anna would see it as different.’ Theo downed the rest of his pint and ran his fingers through his hair.

‘You’ll never know unless you tell her.’

‘God, Spud, to hear her crying herself to sleep, and to have to answer her questions over and over as to why we can’t have a baby, it kills me to know how much anguish I’m causing her. If she knew there was a child out there, my child, it would destroy her.’

Spud took a deep breath. ‘I can’t imagine keeping something so big from Kumi. And I really think Anna would understand. I think her joy at becoming a mum would outweigh everything else.’

Again there was a moment of silence as Theo considered his words. ‘I spent days and nights trying to hide from the world, trying to make myself invisible. I can’t put a child through that. I won’t. And it’s made me this... this...’ He struggled to find the right words. ‘...this glass-half-empty kind of guy, no matter what. And yet Anna...’ He shook his head admiringly. ‘She had the very worst of starts but doesn’t let it define her, in fact the opposite, she’s nearly always sunny. Whereas me...’

‘I think that with you, Theo, it’s more about your ability to shake off past unhappiness, to recognise you’re a different person now.’

‘Or rather my inability.’

‘Yes. Exactly.’ Spud lifted his pint pot and wiped his beer tash with the back of his hand. ‘Well, I certainly thought tonight was going to be more of a celebration.’ He folded his arms over his chest.

‘I’m sorry. You’re right.’ Theo clapped his hands. ‘So, the big old U S of A! Mr Mega Job. Working in a thinktank, whatever that is!’ He grinned. ‘I can only picture humans in a giant fish tank with thought bubbles and all wearing goggles.’

‘And that would mostly be correct. Kumi’s getting my flippers and trunks ready as we speak.’

Theo noted the slightest twitch to Spud’s eye. ‘Are you nervous?’

‘A bit, but as I often say to myself, the decision you make is always the right one – that way you remove the self-doubt and just bloody get on with it!’

‘Amen to that.’ Theo raised his hand for a high five, which Spud made a show of ignoring.

They both laughed, then exchanged a look, before Theo, embarrassed, jumped up. ‘Same again?’

‘Yup.’ Spud drained his glass.

* * *

It was raining as Theo and Spud left the pub and emerged onto the Strand. Theo lifted his suit lapels and held them closed over his cotton shirt, letting his finger run over the little fishing fly that sat discreetly beneath. ‘I can’t believe you’re going to the bloody States. I’m actually going to miss you.’ He punched his friend lightly on the arm.

‘You must promise to come and see us. Kumi and Anna can enjoy the delights of Washington and you and I can drink beer.’

‘You always say that, but we’d get stuck with Miyu while they go off, meaning beer will become coffee. The last time we babysat, I ended up getting a makeover!’

Both men laughed at the memory of how Spud’s daughter with her dad’s help had gone to town with her face paints.

‘You should be honoured that you’re her favourite godfather.’

‘I’m her only godfather!’

‘Good point.’

Thunder rolled overhead and the rain got heavier.

‘It’s only a plane-ride away.’ Spud nodded, a little choked.

‘Yep.’ Theo looked at the pavement, where fat raindrops bounced on the grey slabs. ‘Who’d have thought we’d be standing here like this all these years after I first met you. I remember when you knocked on the door of my room in halls. I hadn’t even unpacked. And there you were, skinny and geeky and you called me Cleo, said it was because you were from Wigan!’ He laughed.

‘I was panicking! You were the poshest person I’d ever spoken to and it threw me. My mum told me to knock on the door of my neighbours and ask if they fancied a beer. I was bricking it, but she said it was a failsafe.’

‘Turns out Ma Spud was right.’

‘She usually is. Christ, I thought it would be one quick drink, I never expected I’d still be lumbered with you thirteen years later!’ Theo smiled at him. This move was a big deal. ‘This is just the beginning, mate – we have a lot of years to cover yet and a lot more beer to consume.’

‘Do you think they have scampi in Washington?’ Spud scuffed his shoe on the wet ground.

‘Probably. But I think it’s called “scayumpee”.’ Theo tried out his appalling American accent.

The two stood awkwardly, using the banter to mask their sadness.

‘Come here!’ Spud reached out and embraced Theo warmly, hugging him a little more tightly than was comfortable. He released him and shook his hand firmly.

‘I’ll see you soon.’ Theo coughed and slapped his friend on the shoulder.

‘Yes, mate. I’ll see you soon. And you know where I am if you need me.’

Theo raised his hand in acknowledgement, then turned and walked away.

He was glad of the rain. Somehow it helped dilute the emotion of their parting. He disliked the hollow feeling in his chest, which felt a lot like loss. Unwilling to go home just yet, he wandered past Charing Cross train station and stood on the corner, staring at Trafalgar Square. The bronze lions gleamed majestically in the downpour and the lamplight was hazy overhead as raindrops punctured the surface of the fountain pools. This was the London he loved, when the shiny façade and the crisp flags laid on for the tourists were removed and the beating heart of the capital was laid bare. Running his hand through his hair, he dusted the rain from his short crop and rubbed his face.

Get a grip, Theo!

It was as he ambled towards Whitehall, dithering over whether to go back to the pub and sink another pint alone or whether to trot down to the Embankment and walk along the river, that the number 53 bus drew up alongside him. Something about the shape of the figure in the window of the top deck made him turn and look up. It was a silhouette he’d carried in his mind since he was fourteen. There in the front seat, gazing into the distance, sat Kitty Montrose.

Theo quickly glanced down the street, searching for Spud, wanting to point her out, needing if not his mate’s support then at least someone to share the moment with. His heart skipped a beat. Just the sight of her made his pulse race faster, taking him back to his unrequited teens and then that glorious afternoon together back when he was at UCL. But then came the stab to his chest and the memory of her letter.

If our paths should ever cross, please respect my wish for us to never mention this. I beg you, Theo. This is the only way I can build a life. Please.

I say goodbye now...

‘What if, actually, it wasn’t only your call to make, Kitty? Why did I not have a say?’ he muttered under his breath.

As if on autopilot, Theo freed his hands from his pockets and broke into a run, looking ahead at the traffic lights and thankful that they were still on red. With his eyes trained on the bus, he collided with a group of men, all in suits and all, like him, looking as if they’d enjoyed one or two drinks after work.

‘Watch where you’re going, prick!’ one yelled.

Theo lifted his hand over his shoulder. That would have to be apology enough; he didn’t want to lose sight of the number 53.

Running and slipping in his smooth-soled brogues on the wet pavement, he raced up the street, overtook the bus and came to a halt at the next bus stop. His chest ached and he had a stitch in his side. He smiled at the driver as he boarded, flashing his travel card and holding the rail as the double-decker pulled away from the kerb. Slowly, slowly he trod the narrow stairs.

The bus was warm; gloved hands had wiped viewing portholes in its steamed-up windows and the air was pungent with the smell of damp wool. With only a couple of other passengers upstairs, Theo had a clear view of the back of Kitty’s head. Her hair, still red, had dulled a little and she had lopped it off to shoulder length. Suddenly shy, he wondered how he might justify his presence there – what should he say? He also thought of Anna, waiting for him at home, and he swallowed his guilt at having chased the bus for a chance to say ‘hi’ to Kitty. How would he explain that?

Why was he so keen to see her again? He stopped in his tracks halfway up the stairs, taken aback at the spontaneity of his actions. He was hardly still holding a candle for her. No, it wasn’t that – there was more anger in him now. He wanted... He wanted to show her that she’d misjudged him. Wanted to show her he wasn’t the weedy weirdo she thought he was. Wanted her to see that he’d found happiness too.

He gripped the rail at the top of the stairs and hovered in the aisle.

Kitty turned towards the window and looked out at the dark street ahead. It was as he studied her profile and prepared what he might say that a child’s head bobbed up into view on the seat next to her. At this, Theo’s legs turned to jelly. A child! His child!

He quickly sloped down the aisle and sat down as inconspicuously as possible. His heart beat loudly in his ears and his knees shook. The child was wearing a woolly hat. It was red with a blue band, the kind that a boy or girl might wear. The child’s shoulders were slight beneath its navy duffle coat. Theo recalled owning a similar coat at a similar age and felt a flare of joy at this tiny connection of sorts.

He was transfixed by the pair, noting their gentle interaction as Kitty bent her head to better hear the soft voice by her side. He was touched by the way she laughed gently, placing a hand against a cheek he couldn’t see.

It was a surreal situation. The child had to be about ten. His child, his flesh and blood, now sat no more than twenty feet away, but oblivious. Theo glanced towards the staircase and was wondering if he should leave when all of a sudden the child knelt up on the seat and turned to face the back of the bus. Kitty, still looking forward, placed her arm across the navy duffle coat to ensure that her child wouldn’t fall if the bus braked suddenly.

Theo’s breath caught in his throat as he stared into the child’s face – the face of a pretty, bright little girl. A girl! A little girl! His daughter. She had her mother’s freckles and the same upturn to the tip of her nose, but her dark curly hair, her brown eyes and the shape of her mouth were his.

She looked like him!

He remembered Anna telling him how as a teenager she used to flag down taxi drivers on the off-chance, hoping that one of them would be her dad and thinking that she’d instantly know when she found him because looks and shared genes would make it obvious they were father and daughter. You were right, Anna. I am looking at her and she is looking at me and I know, I just know...

‘Sit round now, please, Sophie.’ Kitty spoke sternly, loudly.

Sophie! Sophie! The word rang in his head like a note. His daughter was called Sophie.

‘I’m waiting to go round a corner.’ Sophie gripped the back of the seat and leant out towards the aisle, her tongue poking from the side of her mouth.

Adventurous and fearless – a warrior like your mum.

‘You are not going to do that, you’ll fall, so please sit round now!’

Yes, keep her safe, Kitty, keep her safe.

Maybe she was drawn by his stare, or perhaps she too sensed the shape of a face she’d known since she was fourteen. Either way, Kitty turned round and looked directly at Theo.

There was a moment of stunned silence before she placed a shaking hand over her mouth and blinked furiously. Floored by her reaction, having anticipated something different, Theo again looked towards the stairs, wondering now how to leave without making a fuss.

They were both frozen in shock, anchored to the spot. Theo looked from Kitty to Sophie and she did the same, their frantic stares joining the dots.

‘Don’t cry,’ he whispered under his breath. ‘Please don’t cry. I won’t cause any trouble. I didn’t know she would be here.’ She! Sophie...

Kitty pulled a tissue from her sleeve, dotted her pretty green eyes and wiped her freckled nose. She popped the tissue into the pocket of her voluminous mac and reached into the small space on the floor, from where she retrieved her handbag. Theo noted a wide gold band glistening on the third finger of her left hand.

The two continued to stare at each other. Then she stretched up and rang the bell. The bus slowed.

‘Come on, darling.’ With false brightness and a sense of urgency, she ushered Sophie from the seat, following close behind.

‘Why did you press the bell, Mummy?’ Sophie asked, her voice well-spoken.

The two stopped at the top of the stairs, only inches from him now, both swaying a little, waiting for the bus to come to a halt. They were within touching distance, these two who in another life, if things had been different, might have been his family.

It was eleven years since he’d last seen Kitty. He noted the creep of fine creases at the edges of her eyes and the fact that her lips had lost some of their fullness. He lowered his gaze and was drawn by the unmistakeable baby bump protruding over the waistband of her jeans. She cradled her stomach protectively. He gave a small smile, thankful that things had worked out with Angus and hoping they shared the happiness he and Anna enjoyed.

‘Where are we going, Mummy?’ Sophie laughed. ‘We aren’t at Blackheath yet.’

Blackheath – is that where you live? Are you heading home?

Kitty pulled her head back on her shoulders and narrowed her eyes at Theo, warning him to stay quiet. ‘I want to get off now, darling.’ He felt a spike of guilt at the tremor to her voice, the fear in her eyes. ‘We can... We can get the next bus.’

‘Why are we going to do that?’ Sophie asked.

‘Just because!’ Flustered, she snapped at her daughter in the Scottish accent that had always sounded to his ears like the sweetest music.

He made as if to rise, indicating he would get off with them, but she gave a single vigorous shake of her head, her mouth set.

Theo hardly dared breathe. Kitty’s tears gathered again, and she cuffed them with the back of her hand. He smiled at Sophie as she passed and she returned his smile with a curve to her lips that mirrored his own. Her dark, shining eyes fixed on his; eyes that were just like his.

He listened to the sound of their footsteps and Sophie’s stream of questions, which continued until they were out of earshot. He placed his daughter’s sweet voice in the middle of his memory, knowing he’d probably never get to hear it again. Craning his neck towards the window, he looked down onto the rain-soaked street and saw nothing but darkness.

The bus trundled on. Theo sat for some time before jumping off in an open spot on the outskirts of Blackheath. Unsure of where he was heading or even in what direction, he moved briskly with his hands in his pockets, thankful that the rain had eased and too preoccupied to notice the chill in the air. He looked up at the purple bruise of sky as thunder rumbled over the river in the distance. It felt like an omen. The storm he thought he’d outrun was in fact catching up with him. I must tell Anna. I need to tell her about Sophie.

Crossing a main road, he found himself heading in the direction of Greenwich Park. And just like that he was crying, sobbing so loudly and with such force it became hard to take a breath. He cried for the fact that his best mate was leaving London for Washington, he cried for Sophie, who would live a life without him, but most of his tears were for his beloved Anna and what he was unable to give her.

As the strength left his legs, he sat on the kerb, hardly aware of the traffic that flew past. He thought of his Anna, who would be padding around the house waiting for the sound of his key in the door. Beautiful, sweet Anna who had been through so much and deserved so much more than this. Anna, who would give anything to feel the swell of her belly under a mackintosh, her skin stretched with his child, growing inside.

I’m sorry, Anna. I am so, so sorry. I’m not good enough. You shouldn’t have picked me. Kitty was right; fatherhood is not the path for me. I am not that person. You should have picked anyone but me.