Sarah seemed to have some kind of sixth sense which alerted her that I’d had a late night and the next morning she woke at three and then again not long after dawn.
The confrontation with David had sent me home earlier than I had anticipated, but it had still been after midnight when I’d made it in the door to find Max fast asleep on the sofa. There’d been no discussion about him staying the night. But after hovering uncertainly beside him for a couple of minutes, I’d decided there was no way I could wake him up and shove him out the door.
I fed Sarah now, and then put her back in her cot in the vain hope that she’d take pity on her sleep-deprived mother and go back to sleep. It quickly became obvious that wasn’t going to happen, so I picked her up again before she could wake Max. A stimulating play session was just not going to happen this morning. Pulling her into bed, I put my head next to hers so she could play with my face, deciding that the pain of little fingers grabbing my hair and my nose was a small price to pay for the benefit of being able to close my eyes.
The novelty of that game lasted for a blessed half hour, after which I forced my eyes open and managed to entertain her with various toys while still lying in bed, trying not to think about the fact that Max was downstairs. Eventually I acknowledged that there was not the remotest chance of any more sleep, so I dragged myself off into the bathroom, where I propped Sarah on a towel on the floor so she could watch me showering.
I have always felt that a hot shower is one of modern man’s best inventions, by far surpassing advancements as trivial as the wheel. As usual the warm water did wonders, and by the time I’d dried myself and dressed both of us, I felt almost human.
Just then I heard the noise I’d been waiting for – the sound of the newspaper delivery van pulling up outside, followed by the soft thunk of the newspaper landing on the path. Not even Max’s presence could keep me from seeing the article about our business in print and I headed down the stairs.
Sarah let out a cry as I stepped into the living room and Max sat up with a start, blinking sleep away and obviously trying to figure out where he was.
‘Hi,’ I said awkwardly.
‘Hi,’ he replied, looking warily behind me. Obviously concluding that David hadn’t stayed the night, he smiled with more warmth. ‘Good night?’
‘Great night,’ I answered. ‘Although I could have lived without my little blue-eyed alarm clock at a quarter to six.’
‘Everything was fine here too,’ Max said. ‘I didn’t hear a peep out of her. Sorry for crashing on the sofa,’ he added, slightly sheepishly. ‘After the movie finished I just closed my eyes for a moment and the next thing I knew it was morning.’
‘I think you deserve some kind of award for actually managing to sleep on that collection of springs,’ I said admiringly. ‘Most of my friends won’t even sit on it for more than five minutes.’
‘Yeah, well, getting to sleep has never been one of my problems,’ Max grinned.
‘No . . .’ I replied, thinking of the many nights I’d lain awake beside him after he had fallen asleep within seconds of his head hitting the pillow.
Max was obviously having similar thoughts and the silence stretched uncomfortably.
‘I guess I should get going,’ he said half-heartedly.
‘There’s something you have to see first.’ I opened the front door and picked up the hefty Saturday edition of the paper from the front path. After depositing Sarah in the armchair, I pulled out the features section. Staring at me was a quarter-page photo of Debbie, Sarah and me.
‘Oh my God,’ I exclaimed in shock, having expected our article to be tucked away at the back of the paper. ‘Take a look at this.’ I turned the paper around to Max.
He blinked in surprise. ‘What? “Sacking the Stork – Babies in the new millennium”,’ he read the headline out loud. ‘The article’s about your business?’ he asked incredulously. ‘How on earth did you manage that?’
‘David did, actually,’ I replied, turning the paper back around.
Ignoring Max’s silence, I scanned the article. They had printed what I’d written almost word for word, but seeing it in the paper was very different to looking at it on my computer screen. Karen’s husband Sam was a keen photographer and he’d taken some black and white shots. The one they’d included had us sitting on some metal steps in front of an old warehouse. Debbie looked predictably glamorous with her hair flowing over her shoulder in the breeze. But Sarah and I looked pretty good too, I thought with pleasure.
‘This is unbelievable, Max,’ I exclaimed, thrusting the newspaper at him. ‘Can you imagine what this could do for us?’ I grabbed the phone. ‘I’ve got to talk to Debbie.
‘Damn,’ I muttered when I heard the engaged tone. Debbie often took the phone off the hook after a late night. Without much hope, I dialled her mobile number, exclaiming in frustration when her voice mail clicked on straightaway.
Surely she couldn’t have forgotten that the article was coming out this morning. I stood up and grabbed my car keys. ‘Max, I’ve got to show this to Debbie. I’m going around to her place.’
Max finished scanning the article and looked up. ‘Do you want to leave Sarah with me?’
I looked at him in surprise. Sarah always went everywhere with me, so I hadn’t thought about whether or not it would be convenient to bring her now. But it would be much easier to leave her here rather than drag her in and out of the car. She wouldn’t need feeding for a while yet and I could easily be back in time.
Still, I hesitated. Looking after Sarah during the day was a different story to doing so at night when she was fast asleep. While I admired Max’s willingness to help, I wasn’t sure he was up to dealing with Sarah if she decided to be difficult.
‘Sophie,’ Max said before I could voice my concerns. ‘I’ll be fine. Give me a rundown on what to expect and I’m sure I’ll be able to manage for an hour or so.’
He was right. Sarah was due for a sleep soon anyway, and I couldn’t think of any mortal danger that might befall her within the four walls of the house. So I changed her nappy and explained to Max when and how he should put her down to sleep, then I headed towards the door.
I hesitated and turned back. ‘Max, you’re not thinking of taking her out while I’m gone, are you?’ I asked, trying not to sound obsessive.
‘Oh, I thought we might head down to the pub,’ Max said offhandedly. Seeing my expression he laughed. ‘Sophie, I’m kidding. Talk about a sense of humour loss. Go!’
‘All right, all right,’ I laughed, dropping a kiss on the top of Sarah’s head and walking out the door with the newspaper under my arm.
The traffic was mercifully light and I was at Debbie’s flat within fifteen minutes. Feeling happy with the world, I bounded up the steps. Well, actually I bounded up the first two flights and trudged up the remainder, my exercise regime having lapsed significantly in recent weeks.
Trying to still my panting, I rang the doorbell. Unsurprised at the fact that no one answered, I tried again, knowing that the noise would eventually break through Debbie’s sleep. Sure enough, after my fourth bout of ringing, I could hear footsteps trudging across the lounge.
‘Whoever you are, I’m coming,’ Debbie yelled. ‘Just please stop that terrible noise.’
Grinning I stood back and waited as she opened the door.
Debbie threw the door open and stood there, her robe held together with one hand and her hair uncharacteristically tousled. As she registered that it was me, the thunderous look on her face changed to confusion and I could see her swallowing the curses she’d been about to bestow on the person waking her so early on a Saturday morning.
‘Sophie?’ she said. ‘What are you doing here? Is everything all right?’
‘Everything’s fine, Debbie,’ I answered. ‘In fact, it’s great. Have a look at this.’ I held the article out in front of me.
Debbie squinted at the page, trying to focus her bleary eyes. Comprehension struck suddenly. ‘The article! My God, how could I forget?’ She grabbed the paper with her free hand and stared at it.
‘This is unbelievable,’ she exclaimed after a quick scan. ‘David is now officially forgiven for everything after this little effort.’
I suddenly remembered she didn’t know the latest instalment in the David saga and my mood dipped. I’d tell her later, I decided, not wanting to spoil one of the rare moments of celebration in our fraught business enterprise.
Debbie turned and walked into the flat, reading the article as she went, and I followed behind her. I was about to sit down on the sofa but I stopped suddenly. Thrown across the back of the armchair was a man’s black jacket.
‘I didn’t realise you had company,’ I said with raised eyebrows.
‘Ah, yes,’ Debbie muttered, uncharacteristically reticent about her latest conquest.
Looking closer at the jacket, I realised what had been staring me in the face for a long time.
Turning around, I saw Debbie looking at me apprehensively. ‘You and Andrew?’ I asked, still not quite believing it.
Debbie nodded with a rueful smile.
I dropped onto the sofa and tried to readjust my thinking to accept something I previously would have considered impossible.
‘I’ve been wanting to tell you for a while now,’ Debbie said. ‘When it first started, we both thought that, given our respective track records, it wouldn’t last a week and so we decided not to announce it to the world.’
She noticed the hurt expression on my face and hurried on. ‘I know you’re not the world, but I felt so strange about it all, I couldn’t face having anyone else watching us as we tried to figure out what was going on. Not even you.’
I nodded slowly, understanding what she was saying. ‘When did it start?’ I cast my mind back in time and tried to think of a likely opportunity.
‘Remember how a couple of days after I resigned, we were going to the movies with Ben and Anna but they cancelled at the last minute? Nothing happened, but I think both of us were surprised by what a good time we had. Then when you were in Hong Kong and I had chickenpox I ran out of calamine lotion and asked Andrew to buy me some and drop it around. He said he’d had chickenpox and so couldn’t catch it and, well, one thing led to another . . .’
‘You had sex with Andrew for the first time, dotted in pink cream?’ I asked incredulously, amazed she’d even let him in the front door.
‘Well, yes,’ Debbie said in embarrassment. ‘It did occur to me at the time to wonder if he had some kind of fetish for sick women,’ she added dryly.
I was still trying to fit all this together. ‘So, if you were going to tell me, does that mean it’s something you think might last?’
Debbie hesitated and looked over her shoulder before saying in a low voice, ‘Sophie, I’ve never felt this way before . . . I think this might be it.’
At this point, nothing could surprise me. The possibility of seeing Debbie in love had always seemed remote, but the concept of her being in love with a man who was happiest in a tracksuit, running up and down hills, simply defied imagination.
I stood up and walked over to the hallway that led to Debbie’s bedroom. ‘Andrew Hardy, come out here,’ I demanded imperiously.
Andrew walked out, sheepishly, a towel wrapped around his waist. He had obviously been listening to what he could of the conversation.
‘I should refuse to speak to either of you ever again,’ I said in a serious voice. Involuntarily I smiled. ‘But bizarre as the concept is, I actually think this is fabulous news.’
I meant what I said. As my initial surprise faded, I realised that they could actually be very good for each other. Although on the surface they seemed complete opposites, they were actually pretty similar. Both of them were generous and ferociously loyal and there was no way I could have survived the last year without either of them. They were also both outgoing and loved a good time – although admittedly they had very different definitions of fun. No matter how happy they were together, I still couldn’t imagine Debbie getting a kick out of jogging on her toes – my guess was that Andrew hadn’t shared that wild and crazy activity with her yet.
‘Excellent. Well I’m glad we sorted that out,’ Debbie said, the look of relief on her face belying her businesslike tone.
‘This calls for a celebratory coffee,’ Andrew declared, turning towards the kitchen, clearly very much at home in Debbie’s flat.
‘Sorry, Andrew, I can’t. I have to keep going,’ I said, looking at my watch. ‘Sarah is with Max and I need to be home pretty soon to rescue him.
‘It’s a long story,’ I said in response to Debbie’s quizzical look. ‘I’ll fill you in some other time.’
‘You’re the only one who knows about this so far, Sophie. We’re going to break the news to everyone else, but can you not mention it to anyone until then?’ Debbie asked.
‘My lips are sealed,’ I replied. ‘Just promise me that you make sure I’m there when you break the news at the cafe.’
As I headed out the door, Andrew put his arm around Debbie’s shoulders.
This was definitely going to take some time to adjust to, I thought to myself as I waved goodbye and headed back down the stairs.