‘S’OK.’ He shakes his head and gulps his tea. ‘It was all a bit of a shock, I suppose.’
‘I felt bad that you knew about Mum and Jeff before I did.’ I look at the crumbs on my plate. ‘And Pussy. And she’s not even family. Well, not yet anyway.’
‘No.’ Sam gazes into the distance, watching Lucy tearing around in a blur of glitter and flashing light.
‘So?’ I say, not really knowing what to say next.
‘So?’
‘So have you thought about a date?’
‘A date?’ He looks confused. ‘Who with?’
‘For your wedding, doh. Or had you forgotten?’
‘God.’ He wedges in more banana loaf. ‘I’m so busy with the company at the moment I can’t really think about that now. I’m doing the launch of a new restaurant in the City next week. It’s really high-profile.’
‘That’s great, Sam.’ I’m pleased.
‘So I think,’ he finishes the last of his tea, ‘that we should talk about your wedding. Don’t you? I mean you’re getting married way before I am.’
‘I guess,’ I admit, watching as two girls, all long legs and tiny vests, eye Sam appreciatively. ‘But it’s boring. I mean it’s not really real, is it? No passion or romance or anything.’
‘I thought you didn’t believe in all that claptrap.’ Sam ruffles my hair.
‘I don’t. That’s why I’m having a pretend wedding instead.’
‘You mad hoon.’ He grins, just as an indignant voice pipes up from somewhere in the distance.
‘Uncle Sam.’
‘Here we go,’ he sighs. ‘Playground duty. You coming?’
‘Think I might just have another bit of cake, thanks.’
‘Typical,’ he snorts, dashing off to help Lucy untangle her kite from a nearby bench. A yappy Jack Russell has somehow become involved and I almost choke on cake as I watch Sam get in a terrible mess with string, while the dog barks at his heels and Lucy squeals delightedly. Privately, I think that nasty, scratty little creatures like that just shouldn’t be allowed but then it becomes apparent that its owner is sitting at the table next to ours. Winking at me, the lady adjusts her strange floppy hat and whistles to the dog, who comes trotting obediently over to stick its head in my crotch. I have to pat it and pretend I think it’s sweet, then she twinkles at me and nods in Sam and Lucy’s direction.
‘Like her dad, isn’t she?’
‘Who?’ I look up sharply.
‘Your little girl.’
‘Oh, no.’ I laugh. ‘He’s not, I mean, she’s not ours. We’re just borrowing her.’
‘A-ha.’ The woman twinkles again. ‘Practising, are we?’
Not sodding likely. Nevertheless, the fact that the doggy lady thought Sam and I were together cheers me up immensely for some ridiculous reason. And the thought of babies and children makes me think of Janice, who is probably sitting at home on her own, knitting bootees. Or drinking gin and rocking, knowing her. So, after another hour of cheek-chapping kite antics, I nip over to Janice’s flat. She looks delighted to see me because I’ve interrupted the work she’s doing on a pitch for a new brand of fizzy drink.
‘Since you’ve made the effort to come over, it’d be damn rude to send you away, wouldn’t it?’ She grins, patting her tummy.
‘Damn rude.’ I flop on her immaculate sofa and immediately crinkle up three velvet cushions. Janice makes a ‘what am I going to do with you’ face and decrees that we need to go shopping.
‘What for?’
‘Holiday.’ She stands up. ‘That’s what. Come on. You need a new swimsuit. You don’t want Sam to think you look rancid, do you?’
‘Why would I care what Sam thinks?’
‘Oh, come on. You look suspiciously rosy for someone who’s been lumbered with a small child all day.’
‘It’s windy.’
‘And you’ve got a bit of a soft spot.’
‘Haven’t.’
‘Have. It’s written all over your chops. Now come on, let’s shop.’
Janice’s theory is that if she’s going to look like a poached egg on toast on this holiday, she might as well have some luxury items to do it in. Personally, I can’t even see a bump yet but, as we flick through rails of clothes, she looks as happy as a pig in muck.
‘This is just what we need.’ She flicks through the rack of Kookai dresses we’re examining. ‘Shopping always makes me feel better.’
‘What’s wrong with you then? I thought you’d come to terms with the baby.’