Playing Nice
“He’s not used to sharing you, though, is he?” Miles took off his tie and put it in his suit pocket. “You could tell he was—what do they call it?—acting out a bit. What are we watching this evening, Theo?”
“Po’man Pat.”
“I love Postman Pat. Do you know, they had it when I was your age? I bet I already know this one.”
* * *
—
MILES WAS STILL THERE, watching TV, when Maddie got back from work. Theo, sleepy now, had collapsed against him, thumb in mouth. Miles beamed at her.
“Hi Maddie,” he said in a stage whisper. “Our boy’s tired.”
“So I see,” she said in her normal voice. She went to the fridge and pulled out a bottle.
“Do you want to put him down and read his story?” I asked.
She nodded. “When I’ve had a glass of wine. Long day.”
“I’ll do it,” Miles said immediately.
“No, really—” I began, but he cut me off.
“You stay here and talk to Maddie. First chance you two have had to talk to each other all day, I bet. I’ll just read Theo a story and then I’ll be off.”
It was the words “I’ll be off” that persuaded me. It had been a long day for me, too. “All right. Thank you.”
Miles slid his arms under a limp, sleepy Theo, who allowed himself to be carried upstairs.
It was odd, but as they went up the stairs, with Theo draped crosswise over Miles’s arms, I couldn’t help thinking of a man carrying his bride over a threshold.
* * *
—
“MI CASA ES SU casa again?” Maddie said when they were upstairs.
“Yup,” I agreed.
“And what’s this?” She indicated the iBaby.
“It’s an internet-enabled baby monitor. A present from Miles.”
“Well…I suppose you have been complaining about ours for ages.”
“Yes. It’s very generous of him.” I hesitated. “Lucy told me earlier that Miles fired Michaela because he saw her on a nannycam, infringing one of his rules.”
“Miles has rules? Who knew?”
I nodded. “Surprisingly strict ones. And a one-strike-and-you’re-out policy.”
Maddie took another swig and topped up her glass. She did that a lot these days, I noticed: drink-and-refill, so her glass was never empty. And she filled it closer to the top than I did. “So?”
“Miles said he’s already set it up. All we have to do is enter our Wi-Fi password. Maybe I’m being overcautious, but…”
She was silent a moment. “You think he might be technical enough to hack it?”
“I don’t think he’d even need to be very technical. Look.” I typed some words into my laptop’s search engine and showed her. The search Are baby monitors easy to hack? gave over ten thousand results, and from what I could see, the answer from all of them was a resounding yes. “But if I’m being paranoid, tell me,” I added.
“I don’t think you are being paranoid,” she said slowly. “I mean, he may justify it to himself by saying that it’s his son, so why can’t he watch him sleeping. But there have to be limits, don’t there? When he comes down, I’m going to say something. About Easter, too. It’s time we got this sorted.”
* * *
—
“HE’S ASLEEP.” MILES CAME downstairs smiling. “God, he looks peaceful when he closes his eyes, doesn’t he? Like a little cherub.”
“It’s the only time he does,” Maddie said drily. “Incidentally, Miles…”
“Yes?”
“There are a couple of things we’ve been meaning to mention. I’m afraid I can’t take any time off at Easter—I’m just too busy at work. And one of my brothers and his family are coming over from Australia on the Saturday, so it would be almost impossible to get all the way to Cornwall and back just for one night. I’m really sorry—I think we’re going to have to bail.”
“No need,” Miles said cheerfully. “Bring them, too. The house sleeps ten, so there’s plenty of room at the inn.”
“I’m sure you’d rather fill it with your own friends.”
Miles’s smile died. “I said, bring your brother’s family, too. Easter was your idea, after all. And the house is booked and paid for. I can’t cancel it now.”
Maddie looked at me, puzzled. “I thought it could easily be canceled?”
“Well, it can’t.” Miles sounded peeved.
“Miles—it’s my fault. I should have said something earlier,” I said. “But Maddie hardly ever gets a chance to see her family—”
“Fine.” He gestured at Maddie, a slicing movement of his hand. “Maddie can stay in London and see her brother. You and Theo can come to Cornwall.”
“We’ll want to spend Easter together,” Maddie pointed out. “And my brother will want to see Theo.”
“Well, how else are you going to sort this?” Miles demanded. “I want to see Theo, too.”
He looked so exactly like Theo when Theo was denied something—mutinous and truculent, his lower lip thrust out—that without thinking I spoke in the same tone I used with my two-year-old. “We can’t always have what we want, though, can we?”
I realized as soon as the words were out that it sounded horribly patronizing, but Miles didn’t give me time to say so.
“That’s so true, Pete. So very true.” He sounded strangely distant and unemotional, almost as if he were speaking to himself.
And then he was gone, a blast of cold air from the door he’d left open behind him chilling our little sitting room.
40
Case no. 12675/PU78B65, Exhibit 21, email from Justin Watts, Fox Atkins LLP, to Peter Riley.
Your Matter
Dear Pete,
This is just to confirm that I have submitted our letters of claim and have received a holding response. I will let you know when I have further news.
Kind regards,
Justin Watts
Associate Partner
Fox Atkins LLP