a grab for a nearby trailing ivy frond. The terracotta pot from which it grew was dragged with an ominous grating sound from its shelf. The next moment, before anyone had a chance to move, it had crashed into a bucket of freesias, scattering leaves and compost over the tiled floor. Startled, the baby promptly let out an earsplitting wail.
‘Oh no,’ cried his mother. ‘Oh hell! I’m so sorry ...’
‘It doesn’t matter.’ Gently, Janey disentangled the long tendril of ivy from the baby’s chubby clenched fist. By some miracle the terracotta pot hadn’t broken. There was a mess, but not an expensive mess.
‘I’ll pay for the damage.’ Shifting the baby from one hip to the other, the girl rummaged frantically in her shoulder hag for her purse. ‘I really am sorry. Are the freesias a write-off too?’
She was shaking, Janey noticed. Bending down, swiftly retrieving the pot from its resting place amongst the poor battered freesias, she shook her head and smiled.
‘It’s OK, they were on their last legs anyway. I was going to bin them tonight. And look, the pot’s fine.’ She held it up for inspection. ‘No problems, honestly. You don’t have to pay for anything.’
The baby had by this time stopped yelling. After regarding Janey for some seconds with solemn intensity, he broke into a sudden beaming grin.
‘Oh God,’ said the girl, still distressed. ‘You’re being so nice about this. It doesn’t make it any easier for me.’
‘It was an accident,’ janey protested. ‘What were you expecting me to do, dial 999?’
‘I don’t mean the pot.’ She hesitated, flicking back her glossy dark hair. ‘It’s taken me weeks to pluck up the courage to come here ... and I’m afraid you aren’t going to like the reason why.’
Janey frowned. ‘I don’t understand.’
‘You are Mrs Sinclair, aren’t you?’ said the girl nervously, and Janey nodded again.
‘Well my name’s Anna Fox.’ She waited, then shook her head. ‘I suppose that doesn’t ring any bells?’
The baby, apparently entranced by the gold buttons on Janey’s sweater, squealed with delight and made a futile grab for them.
‘Sorry?’ said Janey, puzzled.
‘Oh dear, this is even more difficult than I thought.’ Two spots of bright colour appeared on the girl’s cheeks. ‘Look, it was Alan I really came to see. Your ... um .. . husband. Maybe it would be easier if he explained.’ She blinked rapidly. ‘Is he around at the moment?’
In less than a split second it all became clear. Stunned, Janey clutched the counter for support. The baby, chuckling with delight, revealed two pearly teeth and vast amounts of pink gum. How curious, she thought irrelevantly, that such a grin could be so irresistible. Any adult with only two teeth in his head would never get away with it.
Anna Fox bit her lip, her dark eyes bright with a mixture of pride and regret. ‘I really am sorry,’ she sighed. ‘I did say it wasn’t going to be easy. You must think I’m a complete bitch.’
The door swung open. Paula, like the cavalry, had arrived in the nick of time.
‘Dear old Mrs McKenzie-Smith burst into tears when I arrived with her bouquet,’ she announced cheerfully. ‘It’s her golden wedding anniversary and this is the first time her husband’s ever given her flowers. Hello, gorgeous,’ she went on, wiggling stubby fingers at the wide-eyed baby. ‘Oh I say, what a lovely smile! What’s your name then?’
‘Good, you’re back,’ said Janey hurriedly. ‘Paula, can you take over here? We’re going upstairs for a while ...’
‘His name’s Justin,’ said Anna, fumbling with the zip as she struggled to get him out of his snowsuit. With a defensive glance in Janey’s direction she added, ‘He’s ten months old.’
Janey, who had switched the kettle on, was now leaning in the kitchen doorway whilst she waited for it to boil.
‘Does he say anything yet?’
Anna pulled a face. ‘Only 'Da'.’
‘Da!’ Justin exclaimed in delighted recognition. ‘Da da da. Da!’
‘Ma,’ prompted Anna, embarrassed, and he beamed. ‘Mmm ... Da!’
‘This is crazy,’ said Janey, giving up on the kettle and sitting down. ‘Here you are feeling sorry for me, and I’m feeling sorry for you. Look, Alan doesn’t live here. We aren’t ... together, anymore. I can’t say I’m not stunned by all this, but you haven’t upset me. In a weird kind of way, it’s the best news I’ve had in years.’
‘Really?’ Anna’s eyes promptly filled with tears as astonishment mingled with overwhelming relief. ‘Oh my goodness, I’m so glad ... oh dear, now my mascara’s going to run.’
Janey passed her a box of tissues. The baby, half in and half out of his snowsuit, was wriggling like an eel.
‘Here, let me take him,’ she offered, as Anna struggled to blow her nose and hold him on her lap at the same time. ‘You don’t have enough hands.’
‘You really and truly don’t mind?’ said Anna, sniffing loudly.
Janey smiled. ‘Of course not. I like babies.’
‘I mean about me and Alan.’ She bit her lip. ‘I still feel dreadful, springing this on you.’
‘I can’t tell you how glad I am that you did,’ Janey assured her, from the heart. ‘Listen, I kicked him out. He didn’t want to leave ...’ She hesitated, then shrugged and said simply, ‘Well, now ‘I know, I don’t have to feel guilty any more. You can’t imagine what a relief that is.’
‘We only went along as a kind of joke,’ Anna explained, clutching her cup of coffee and looking defiant. ‘It wasn’t as if I was desperate or anything, but my friend Elaine had been answering ads in the Personal columns without much luck, and I said why didn’t she try a singles bar instead. Well, she found this new one advertised in Time Out and dragged me along to keep her company. I didn’t even want to go, but she’s such a nag. That’s probably why her boyfriends never last longer than a week,’ she added with a smile. Janey, who privately felt Personal columns and singles bars had a lot to answer
