“How are you?” He strokes my arm. “How was the class?”
“Oh.” I cast my mind back. “Er…it was fine. You didn’t miss much. Then I went shopping with Mum and Janice. We went to Liberty’s and Browns….”
“You haven’t been overdoing it?” He surveys me with concern. “Did you take a rest? Remember what Venetia said about your blood pressure?”
“I’m fine!” I wave an arm in the air. “Never felt better!”
“Well.” Luke glances at his watch. “We should be going soon. I’ll take a quick shower and call a taxi.” His voice is cheerful enough, but as he gets up I notice a tense set to his shoulders.
“Luke…” I hesitate. “Everything’s all right, isn’t it?”
“Becky. Don’t worry.” Luke takes both my hands in his. “Everything’s fine. We have little crises every day. It’s the nature of the job; you know it is. We deal with them and we move on. Maybe I am more preoccupied than usual. I’m just very busy right now.”
“Well…OK,” I say, mollified. “Go and have your shower.”
He heads down the corridor to our bedroom and I dump my bags in the hall. I am quite tired, actually, after my afternoon with Mum and Janice. Maybe I’ll have a shower too, after Luke’s finished. I could use my revitalizing rosemary gel and do some invigorating yoga stretches.
Or else I could have a quick Kit Kat. I go into the kitchen and am just getting the box down, when the doorbell rings. That can’t be the taxi already.
“Hello?” I say into the intercom.
“Hi, Becky?” A crackly voice comes back. “It’s Jess.”
Jess?
I press the buzzer in astonishment. What’s Jess doing here? I didn’t even know she was in London.
“The taxi’s booked for fifteen minutes’ time.” Luke puts his head round the kitchen door, wearing only a towel.
“You’d better get some clothes on,” I say. “Jess is just coming up in the lift!”
“Jess?” Luke looks taken aback. “We weren’t expecting her, were we?”
“No.” I hear the gentle chime of the doorbell to our apartment and start giggling. “Quick, get dressed!”
I swing the door open to see Jess, dressed in jeans, sneakers, and a tight brown tank top, which actually looks quite cool in a seventies, retro way.
“Hi!” She gives me a stiff hug. “How are you, Becky? I’ve been seeing my tutor, and I thought I’d drop by. I tried ringing, but the line was busy. Is it OK?”
She looks slightly nervous. Honestly! As if I’m going to say no, it’s not, go away.
“Of course!” I warmly clasp her back. “It’s fab to see you. Come on in!”
“I brought a present for the baby.” She reaches in her rucksack and pulls out a brown romper, with I Will Not Pollute the World printed on the front in beige.
“Er…fab!” I say, turning it over in my fingers. “Thanks!”
“It’s made of natural hemp,” Jess says. “Are you still planning an all-hemp wardrobe for the baby?”
All-hemp? What on earth is she—
Oh. Maybe I did say something like that at Mum’s party, just to stop her lecturing me about evil bleached cotton.
“I’m going…part hemp, part other fabrics,” I say at last. “For…er…biodiversity.”
“Excellent.” She nods. “And I meant to say, I can get you a changing table on loan. There’s a women’s student cooperative which lends out baby equipment and toys. I’ve brought the number.”
“Right!” I quickly kick the door of the nursery shut before she spots my Circus Tent changing station with integrated puppet show, which arrived yesterday from Funky Baba. “I’ll…bear that in mind. Come and have a drink.”
“Have you made the baby wipes yet?” Jess follows me into the kitchen.
Not the baby wipes again. I can’t tell her I threw all the rags away at Mum’s house.
“Er, not yet…” I hastily cast around. “But I’ve done some other stuff.” I grab a striped tea towel from the rack and tie a knot in the end. “This is a homemade organic toy,” I say casually, turning round. “It’s called Knotty.”
“That’s great.” Jess examines it. “What a simple concept. Far better than any manufactured rubbish.”
“And I’m planning to…paint this spoon with nontoxic natural paint.” Feeling emboldened, I take a wooden spoon from the drawer. “I’ll give it a face and call it Spoony.”
God, I’m good at this eco-recycling lark. Maybe I’ll start my own newsletter!
“Anyway, let me get you a drink.” I pour Jess a glass of wine and plonk down opposite her. “So. What’s going on? I couldn’t believe it when Janice said you were going out with Tom!”
“I know,” says Jess. “I’m sorry, I should have told you. But it’s been so…” She breaks off.
“What?” I say, agog. Jess is staring into her glass without drinking.
“It’s not really working out,” she says at last.
“Why not?”
Jess is silent again. She hasn’t really cracked this whole talking-about-boyfriends thing, has she?
“Go on,” I cajole. “Everything you say is totally safe with me. I mean…you do like him, don’t you?”
“Of course I do. But…” She exhales. “It’s just…”