“O.K. then,” said Lyn.

“Of course, your father likes to pretend that we are the same people and he never stopped loving me.” Maxine rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide her pleasure. “But that’s Frank.”

“As long as you’re happy,” Lyn was beginning to wonder where all this was leading.

“So. I’ve been worried about him lately.”

Lyn put a finger to her lips.

“I’m telling you, he can’t hear. I thought of something nice to cheer him up.”

“Yes?”

Her mother laced her hands across her stomach and looked slightly bashful.

“Tomorrow night I’m going to propose to him.”

“You’re going to ask him to marry you?”

“That’s what proposals are generally for, Lyn, yes. What do you think?”

“I think.” Lyn put down her teacup and wondered what she did think. “I think it’s a…lovely idea.” There were worse ideas, after all.

“Good!” said Maxine in a “that’s settled” tone. “I’ll go and check if that little horror is showing any signs of waking up.”

Lyn could hear her father still whistling in the kitchen. The tune wasn’t “Rhinestone Cowboy” anymore.

She picked up the empty cups and carried them into the kitchen.

Frank looked up from the saucepan of pasta sauce he was stirring and gave her an innocent look, as he continued to whistle.

Now she recognized the tune. It was a rather upbeat version of the Wedding March.

“You’re such a ham sandwich, Dad.”

And to her surprise Lyn found herself reaching up to plant a kiss on her father’s cheek.

“What a lucky fellow I am,” said Frank.

CHAPTER 28

Bottles. Nappies. Wipes. Lotion. Baby powder. Bedtime book. Pajamas. Overalls for tomorrow. Spare clothes for tonight. Funny bathtime toy. Cuddly, sleepytime toy. Noisy, quick-distract-him-with-this toy. Keep-for-full-on-wailing-emergency toy. Oh! What about one of the toys they gave him? That would look good. Favorite apple and pear baby food. Package of rusks.

What else?

Gemma was packing a bag for Sal’s first overnight trip. He was going to stay with Charlie’s parents while Gemma and Charlie went to the wedding.

His parents didn’t approve of Gemma. They found the whole business of their son becoming an instant Daddy upsetting and suspicious. Plus, they unfairly connected Gemma to Dan—their youngest daughter’s highly unsuitable new boyfriend who had taken her off to France before she finished her law degree.

On visits, Gemma sat stiffly and smiled inanely, while Charlie and his parents spoke in rapid-fire, angry-sounding Italian. His nonsmiling mother kept pushing plates of food in Gemma’s direction, while his father punched the tabletop a great deal. It was stressful. Gemma was used to people liking her.

“Well really, Gemma,” said Maxine. “What do you expect? I wouldn’t approve of you either!”

But his parents did approve of Sal and Sal approved of them, virtually shot-putting himself out of Gemma’s arms whenever he saw them.

Gemma zipped up the bulging bag and went through her mental checklist one more time. She’d probably forgotten something fundamental that would show her up as an unhygienic, unfit mother.

What if they just refused to give Sal back? What if they called the Department of Community Services and said, “Take a look at this overnight bag. Can you believe it? Calls herself a mother!”

She felt cold with fear at the thought. And then they’d find out that she had been planning to have Sal adopted, planning to abandon him. “You never wanted him in the first place,” they’d say.

During those first few months, when Sal would cry and cry for no reason, it sounded to Gemma like a cry of grief. “You never wanted me! You were giving me away!”

As she paced back and forth down the hallway of Charlie’s little flat, rocking and patting and begging him to please, please, please stop crying, guilt would knot her stomach.

One night at 3 A.M., after Sal had cried for two hours straight, Charlie, with red-rimmed eyes, said, “Why don’t we get Cat on the phone? Tell her we’ve changed our minds. She can have him after all.”

Gemma burst into tears.

“I was joking!” said Charlie, and the genuine distress on his face made Gemma cry even harder because he was so sweet, so wonderful, and she’d abandoned him too. (“So you’re the girl who broke his heart,” said Charlie’s best friend when he met Gemma for the first time.)

“Maybe you’ve got that postnatal depression,” said Charlie, while Gemma and Sal wailed into his chest.

“I’ve got post-me depression,” said Gemma.

The next day Charlie phoned Maxine, and she appeared like the cavalry.

“Three!” exclaimed Gemma, watching her rock the baby. “You had three Sals, all at once! And you were twenty-one!”

“It was a nightmare of truly epic proportions,” said Maxine grandly. “It was the worst time of my entire life.”

“It must have been,” breathed Gemma. “My God.”

“Your sister said exactly the same thing a few months after Maddie was born,” said Maxine. “I’m looking forward to when Cat has a similar revelation. That will be especially satisfying.”

Sal’s head lolled drunkenly in the crook of Maxine’s arm.

“There was always one of you crying.” Maxine brushed a fingertip along the length of Sal’s eyelashes. “Always. I used to long for just one moment when all three of you were simultaneously happy.”