Part 9 (1/2)

'Mummeeee!' came floating through the door.

'Oh, no,' they both groaned.

'Ignore her,' Luke implored.

'Mummeeee!'

'Come on.'

'No! I can't.'

Luke groaned again. 'You've got to stop running to that child,' he said, but Poppy had already crossed the hall to her daughter's room. 'Hey, gorgeous,' she said to Clara, who was standing up in her cot, grinning at the sight of her. 'Come into bed with us. It's Daddy's birthday. Will you say happy birthday, Daddy?'

'Ha'ee birthday,' said Clara, as Poppy plonked her down beside her groaning father.

'Aah. That's so cute.' Poppy kissed her. 'Now I'm going to tell Daddy what I've got planned for today. Granny Louise is coming over and so Mummy is going to take Daddy out for lunch.' She realized uneasily that more and more she communicated with Luke through the medium of their daughter.

'Oh?' said Luke. He sounded less than delighted.

'Yes, I've booked Orrery.' She looked at him. 'Is that OK?'

'It's just...' Luke sighed. 'Sorry, darling, I should have told you. But I've got to go somewhere.'

Poppy felt as if she'd been hit. 'What?'

'I'm really sorry. I meant to tell you. It slipped my mind. The children are taking me out for lunch. So...' He flailed around like a drowning wasp. 'It's great that Louise is going to babysit, though. Why don't you take advantage of it? Go out. Meet your friends. Or something.'

'I was all excited about our lunch,' Poppy said in a small voice.

'We could go out for dinner.' Luke's heart sank at the thought of two big meals. His hand drifted down to his waist. He could definitely pinch more than a couple of inches. He was haunted by the ghost of his chubby younger self. He glanced in the mirror. His face was still a little red, he just hoped Dr Mazza was right about it fading over the weekend.

'I don't think we can get a babysitter,' Poppy said. 'Glenda can't do it this weekend. That's why I asked Mum. Ow, Clara. Stop pulling Mummy's hair!'

'Well, we'll go out at some point in the week.' Luke rolled out of bed and padded into the en suite. Poppy lay trying to cuddle Clara, who was completely uninterested, preferring to rip pages out of a toy catalogue. Tears p.r.i.c.ked Poppy's eyes. She'd been so keyed up about taking Luke out for a romantic lunch, coming back to a hopefully empty house and making love and then, perhaps, having that discussion again about another baby. But as ever, Luke's other family took priority. And as ever, Poppy could hardly complain, given how she'd stolen him from them.

Luke emerged from the shower. 'I tell you what: why don't I take Clara down for breakfast and you can get some more sleep.'

'But it's your birthday!'

Luke smiled ruefully. Poppy was still at an age where birthdays were something to celebrate rather than to make you groan in horror. 'That's why I'd like some quality time with my daughter. Come on, Clah-Clah. Shall we have breakfast together?'

'Croissant!'

'I got croissants for a special birthday breakfast,' Poppy explained. 'And your present's on top of the fridge.' She peered at him. 'Ow! Your face does look sore. Are you sure it was a dentist and not a butcher you saw?'

'It looks worse than it feels,' Luke said abruptly, kissing her on the forehead. 'Now go back to sleep.'

Poppy didn't think she'd be able to. She lay listening to Clara clas.h.i.+ng pan lids and Luke opening and shutting cupboard doors, still brooding on her disappointment. Still, she thought, Luke was right, she could do something with this unexpected time off. But what? She thought of activities where Clara was distinctly unwelcome. The cinema, maybe? But only losers went to see films alone. A museum? Usually Clara came with her, but it might be an idea to go somewhere like the John Soane Museum in Holborn, which was so densely packed with trinkets it had been a bit of a nightmare to negotiate with a buggy. On her own Poppy could take a really good look at things.

Cheered at the idea, she drifted off to be woken a couple of hours later by the doorbell ringing and then voices in the hall. Of course, Mum had said she'd come about eleven. Rolling out of bed, she went to the landing. Sure enough, she could hear her mother talking to her husband.

'Happy birthday, Luke. Fifty-two, eh? G.o.d, how does that feel? It's bad enough being forty-five. You are looking very well on it, I must say. Is that a shaving rash? Your skin is a little bit blotchy.'

'Granny!'

'Now you know I don't like to be called that, Clara. I'm Louise. Louise who has brought the most gorgeous gorgeous party dress for you. It was in the Moschino sale. I just do hope you won't put your sticky fingers all over it.' She knelt down and clapped her hands so her discreet silver jewellery rattled. Clara giggled and Poppy felt a little surge of hope. All right, so Louise hadn't been the best mother, but maybe it wasn't too late for her to redeem herself. party dress for you. It was in the Moschino sale. I just do hope you won't put your sticky fingers all over it.' She knelt down and clapped her hands so her discreet silver jewellery rattled. Clara giggled and Poppy felt a little surge of hope. All right, so Louise hadn't been the best mother, but maybe it wasn't too late for her to redeem herself.

'Hi, Mum,' she said, coming down the stairs and inhaling the familiar aroma of Obsession. As usual, her mother was dressed more for a day trawling Bond Street than rolling on the floor with her granddaughter. Louise's tiny figure, maintained through a diet endorsed by Gillian McKeith and a weekly regime of two step cla.s.ses, one power-yoga session and daily sit-ups, was encased in a knee-length denim skirt, a black leather jacket and a cream silk blouse that radiated dry-clean-only vibes. Her black hair gleamed, her make-up was subtle but immaculate. As ever, Poppy wondered if two such different physical types could truly be related. She presumed she got her Viking looks from her father, but she'd never know for sure.

'h.e.l.lo, darling,' Louise said, eyeing her stained dressing gown warily as if it might be contagious. 'How are you?'

'Fine. I-'

'I have the most appalling appalling headache again,' Louise continued. 'And my hay fever's started already.' headache again,' Louise continued. 'And my hay fever's started already.'

'Oh, poor you.'

'Yes. Well. That's the price you pay for working every hour G.o.d sends to build up a business.'

'It was really kind of you to take time out to babysit,' Poppy said humbly. She knew the script backwards.

Louise looked down at her tan, knee-length boots. 'Um. Actually. There's a bit of a problem about that, darling.'

Familiar disappointment thudded in Poppy's breastbone. 'Right,' she said cautiously.

'You see my chiropractor just called and she can fit me in at half past one, which is just as well as my neck is killing me. So I'm afraid I'm not going to be able to babysit over lunchtime after all.'

'Mum!'

'I can stay for an hour now, if you like. I don't see why it's a problem. You can take Clara with you, can't you?'

'I-' Poppy began, as Luke interrupted, 'Well, that's a shame, Louise. But don't worry, I understand. And luckily your services aren't needed because as it happens I'm going out to lunch with my other children. So all's well that ends well.'

Louise turned to Poppy, outraged. 'What? You mean you got me to babysit for nothing?'

'You weren't going to do it anyway. You could have said!'

'No, you you could have said.' could have said.'

'Luke only told me this morning.' Poppy pushed her hair away from her eyes and grabbed Luke's arm. 'Did you open your present?' she said softly.

'Oh yeah. Thanks.' He kissed her on the cheek. 'It's great. I'm going to get dressed.'

Poppy felt steamrollered. She'd spent a purgatorial morning pus.h.i.+ng a very vocal Clara round the shops finding the perfect cashmere T-s.h.i.+rt to match the colour of Luke's eyes. She'd paid a vast price for it well, Luke had paid really, but still... and this was all the thanks she got. She felt like an old pair of socks that no one could be bothered to retrieve from the bottom of the laundry bin.

Louise cleared her throat. 'I don't suppose a cup of tea would be too much to ask for?'