“I’m so sorry about that!” She comes round and sits on the front of her desk, one long Armani-clad leg crossed casually over the other. “Where were we?”
“I was just saying to Luke what a coincidence it was!” I say. “You and he already knowing each other.”
“Isn’t it extraordinary?” She gives her silvery laugh. “Out of all the hundreds of patients I’ve had, I’ve never before had one married to an ex-boyfriend!”
My smile freezes slightly on my face.
Ex-boyfriend?
“I was just trying to remember how long we dated for, Luke,” she adds. “Was it a year?”
They dated for a year?
“I don’t remember,” says Luke easily. “Long time ago.”
Hang on. Just hang on a minute. Rewind. I seem to have missed a step here.
Venetia Carter used to be Luke’s girlfriend at Cambridge? But…he’s never referred to her. I’ve never even heard of a Venetia before.
I mean…not that it matters or anything. Why would it matter? I’m not the kind of person who gets hung up on old girlfriends from the past. I’m naturally a very nonjealous person. In fact, I probably won’t even mention it.
Or maybe I will, just casually.
“So, darling, I don’t remember you ever talking about Venetia,” I say to Luke with a relaxed little laugh. “Isn’t that funny?”
“Don’t worry, Becky.” Venetia leans forward with a confidential air. “I know quite well, I was never the love of Luke’s life.”
I feel a warm glow of delight inside me. “Oh, right,” I say, trying to look modest. “Well—”
“That was Sacha de Bonneville,” she adds.
What? What?
Luke’s love of his life wasn’t bloody Sacha de Bonneville! It was me! His wife!
“Apart from you, of course, Becky!” she exclaims, with an apologetic peal of laughter. “I was just talking about back then. In the Browns crowd. Anyway.” Venetia throws back her radiant hair and picks up her file and pen again. “Back to the birth!”
“Yes,” I say, regaining my composure. “Well, I was thinking about maybe having one of the water births with lotus flowers—”
“You should come along one evening, by the way, Luke,” Venetia says, cutting me off. “See some of the old gang.”
“I’d love to!” says Luke. “We’d love to, wouldn’t we, Becky?”
“Yes,” I say after a pause. “Fab idea.”
“Sorry to interrupt, Becky.” Venetia smiles at me. “Do carry on. A water birth, you were saying?”
We’re in there for another twenty-five minutes, talking about vitamins and blood tests and a load of other stuff. But to be truthful, my mind’s not really on the job.
I’m trying to concentrate, but all these distracting images keep coming into my head. Like Luke and Venetia all dressed up in Cambridge student gear, kissing passionately on a punt. (Do I mean a punt? Or a gondola? The boat thing with a pole, anyway.)
And then I keep picturing him running his hands through her long red hair. And murmuring, “Venetia, I love you.”
Which is just stupid. I bet he never told her he loved her.
I bet…a thousand quid.
“Becky?”
“Oh!” I come to and suddenly realize the appointment is over. Both Luke and Venetia are standing up, waiting for me.
“So, you’ll do a birth plan for me, Becky?” Venetia says as she opens the door.
“Absolutely!”
“Nothing too complicated!” She smiles. “I’d just like to get a general picture of how you envisage the birth. And Luke, I’ll give you a call. I know some of the old crowd would love to see you.”
“Great!” His face is animated as he kisses her on each cheek. Then the door closes and we’re walking back down the corridor.
I’m not sure what Luke’s thinking.
I’m not entirely sure what I’m thinking, to be honest.
“Well,” Luke says at last. “Very impressive. Very, very impressive.”
“Um…yes!”
“Becky.” Luke suddenly stops dead. “I want to apologize. You were right and I was wrong.” He shakes his head. “I’m sorry I was so negative about coming here. You’re right: I was prejudiced and stupid. But you’ve completely made the right decision.”
“Right.” I nod several times. “So…so you think we should go with Venetia?”
“Absolutely!” He laughs, puzzled. “Don’t you? Isn’t this your dream come true, coming here?”