“Of course,” I said, surprised.

“It’s just that…” Miles gestured at his feet. “Here I am. Making an effort to see my birth son. Whereas I can’t help noticing that you…” His voice trailed off.

“It isn’t like that!” Maddie exclaimed, just as I protested, “Of course we want to see David.”

There was a silence, broken only by a renewed shout from the baby monitor. “I suppose we were waiting for another invitation,” I added.

“Well, don’t,” Miles said. “Just turn up. Mi casa es su casa. Anyway, you’ll be able to see him when you drop Theo off now, won’t you? I’ll tell Lucy to expect you tomorrow.”

37

   PETE

   “YOU NEVER HAD THAT conversation, did you?” Maddie whispered.

We were in bed. In the next room Theo was still grizzling, despite the fact he was now exhausted and we’d repeated the whole bedtime routine from milky drink onward. Or rather, I had. Maddie had opened another bottle of red wine and talked to Miles downstairs, while I was upstairs trying to make Hairy Maclary from Donaldson’s Dairy sound as boring and soporific as possible. When Miles finally left—which took me pointedly putting the empty bottle next to the recycling bin, where it joined the two Maddie had already polished off that week, and saying firmly, “I’m going to bed. Theo’ll be awake again by six, and it’s been a long day”—we were too tired to do anything except hit the sack.

“Which conversation?” I whispered back.

“The one about boundaries.”

   “Yes I did. At the church. I said this could only work if we respected each other’s parenting styles. And he completely agreed.”

“I’m not sure Miles is sensitive enough to realize that means please don’t turn up on our doorstep anytime you feel like it.”

“You were the one who opened more wine.”

“I couldn’t really stand there with a glass in my hand and not offer him one.”

“Maddie…” I said.

“Oh God. Serious voice. What have I done now?”

“You’re drinking quite a lot.”

“I know. It relaxes me.” Her voice had tightened.

“It’s not because you’re…unhappy?”

“Jesus. No. It’s because I have a high-stress job and wine helps me switch off.”

“Okay. But you will tell me—”

“Don’t lecture me, Daddy Pete. Not now. Cuddle me. We haven’t made love for ages.”

That’s because you never want to, I almost said. Not unless you’re drunk. But of course I didn’t say that, because it would be a passion killer, and one of the consequences of not making love for ages is that you take it when it’s offered. Even though you know it’s only being offered to shut you up, there’s a grizzling child next door, and you prefer it when both of you are sober.

I started to kiss her neck, which she likes, then pushed her T-shirt up and moved down her shoulder toward her breasts.

“At least Theo likes Michaela,” Maddie added. “I think it’ll be fine.”

I rubbed her nipple gently with my nose.

“And if it doesn’t work out, you’ve got him on the waiting list for that other nursery. So that’ll be good.” She yawned. “I think I’ll go to sleep, actually. Do you mind? I’m not quite in the zone.”

38

   PETE

   NEXT MORNING I PUT Theo into the car and drove over to Highgate. It was a fiddly, crosstown journey, complicated by having to get through at least half a dozen school drop-off zones. A drive that had taken less than twenty minutes on a Saturday took almost forty in rush hour.

Lucy came to the door in an elegant pair of designer jeans and a knee-length woolen cardigan. “Pete,” she said warmly. “How lovely to see you. And hello there, Theo.”

“ ’SMoles here?” Theo asked hopefully.

She laughed. “No, he’s at work. That’s what daddies do.” She stopped. “Sorry, Pete. I didn’t mean…”

“That’s all right. Are you really sure this is okay? I don’t want to impose on you.”

“No, it’s wonderful. Tania’s been baking fat-free cakes for them both. Come in and say hello.”

   “Tania?” I said, puzzled, as I followed her through to the kitchen.

“The nanny. Tania, this is Theo, and Theo’s dad, Pete.”

A dark-haired young woman turned toward us from the Aga. She was wearing oven gloves and carrying a baking tray, but she immediately put the tray down and took her hand out of the glove to shake mine. “Pleased to meet you,” she said politely, in French-accented English. She even gave me a little bob.

I looked at Lucy. “I thought Michaela was the nanny.” In the car I’d been keeping Theo’s morale up by speculating about what crazy games he and Mika would be playing today.

“We had to let her go. Miles was furious with her, actually.”

“Why? What did she do?”

“He doesn’t like the nannies being glued to their phone screens when they’re being paid to look after David. And he doesn’t let them use the coffeemaker whenever they feel like it—they have Nescafé and the internet in their bedroom, for when they’re not working. Anyway, last week he saw Michaela on the nannycam, drinking a cappuccino and scrolling through social media. So of course she had to go.”

“You have a nannycam?”

Lucy nodded. “You have to, really, don’t you? It’s not that you even need to look at it very often. Miles says it’s just about making sure you can trust them to stick to the rules.”

I looked around. I could see a cappuccino maker—a more expensive model than mine—but no camera. Miles must have hidden it, I realized.

“Right, Theo. Better be on your best behavior,” I said brightly. “Somebody might be watching you, so think about that.”

Slightly self-consciously, I went into the playroom and squatted down next to where David was sitting on the floor. “Hi, David.”

His eyes turned toward me curiously. Maddie’s eyes, the exact same shape and shade, but without Maddie’s energy, her ever-changing, expressive liveliness. He looked away again.

   “What are you up to?” I asked gently. Again, nothing.