‘With great difficulty,’ he growled.
‘Yes, I can see the problem. “Dear Madam, in reply to yours of the thirteenth inst. I have to report your suggestion impractical, owing to high price of peanut butter.”’
‘You’re finding this very funny, aren’t you?’ he said coldly.
‘I think it’s hilarious. You, a sex god!’
‘You won’t think it’s so funny when hundreds of rampaging women turn up here demanding my body.’
‘No problem. I’ll just tell them about your knock knees.’
‘I do not have knock knees.’
‘Ho, ho, ho!’
‘What do you mean, “ho, ho, ho!”? I do not have knock knees.’
‘They’re like a pair of castanets, your knees.’
‘May you be forgiven!’
This was better, she thought, remembering his silent despair when she’d first been to the hospital. Now he was glaring, animated, giving as good as he got. Another turn of the screw wouldn’t hurt.
‘All right,’ she said in a tone of concession. ‘I take it back. Your knees aren’t big.’
‘Thank you.’
‘It’s your legs that are skinny.’
‘There is nothing the matter with my legs.’
‘Oh, yeah? Why do you never appear on camera in shorts when you’re in a hot country? Because you know that the dreadful sight would reduce your fan club to one short-sighted little old lady. With or without fantasies. What does Olympia say?’
‘I do not discuss my knees with Olympia,’ he said through gritted teeth.
‘Why? Did they put her off?’
‘Of course not.’
‘But she has seen them?’
‘Yes.’
‘And she didn’t say anything?’
‘No.’
‘Probably the first kind thing she’s ever done.’
But he’d caught up with her dancing wits now and was regarding her with wry affection. ‘The hell with you!’ he said with a grin.
‘Really?’
‘Think I can’t see through you?’
‘It took you long enough,’ she jeered.
It was on the tip of his tongue to say he’d never seen her in this mood, but he changed his mind and announced he was going to bed.
He returned a few minutes later to collect his correspondence with as much dignity as he could manage, and after a brief tussle managed to prise the scented letter from her grasp.
‘Actually, Jake, it’s fascinating,’ she said, following him to the door, which he shut in her face.
‘I’m glad I’m contributing to your entertainment,’ he yelled through the door.
‘No, I mean it’s a sociological phenomenon. Carl’s into sociology, he’d love to investigate this. I don’t think he’s ever met anyone it’s actually happened to before.’
The door opened.
‘If,’ Jake said, speaking emphatically, ‘you repeat a word of this to Carl or anyone else, that day will be your last on earth.’
‘But his interest would be purely scientific,’ she said innocently.
‘Rubbish! His interest would be in making me a laughing stock. Now, you promise me-’
‘All right,’ she sighed. ‘Spoilsport!’
‘Do you mind leaving?’
But she had a parting shot. ‘Pity. It would have made a great thesis.’
‘Kelly, I’m warning you-’
‘Oh, go to bed!’
That was the end of the matter, for the moment. But the next morning she had the satisfaction of coming across him in a bath robe, studying his legs in the mirror, a frown creasing his forehead.
‘Checking your assets?’ she teased.
‘Checking the facts. And there is nothing wrong with my knees.’
‘Of course not. They’re splendid knees. I’ve always liked them.’
‘But you said-’
She gave him her sweetest smile. ‘I’m a liar.’
CHAPTER SEVEN
CARL had spoken truly when he called himself an expert on pregnancy and babies. At college he would often join Kelly for lunch and observe her intake with an experienced eye, sometimes advising her to ‘eat more fibre’. They had long talks about her condition, heads close together in their enthusiasm, and Kelly realised that the college was speculating about them, for Carl had devastating film-star looks. But he was merely showing her the kindness and support of a brother, and she valued him for that.
Occasionally he would drive her home, carrying her books up and coming in for tea. Sometimes Jake would join them, but more often he would retreat to his room. And he never, ever mentioned Carl when he and Kelly were alone.
Another thought that neither of them voiced was that Kelly’s pregnancy was well into its fourth month, nearing the time when she’d lost the last baby. As the weeks passed the silence seemed to grow more deafening. Sometimes, she thought, it was like living with an extra presence that had parked itself in the centre of the apartment. They dodged around it, and otherwise pretended not to know it was there.
Her first thought, on waking, was to listen to her body, checking for any unusual twinge. Only when she felt nothing wrong could she relax and start the day.
Jake’s health too was giving cause for cheer. As his strength returned he began to venture out to the local shops, or he would stroll in the little park close to Kelly’s apartment. Now and then she came with him, and they would walk together, arms linked, but saying little. Kelly always thought of herself as supporting Jake, and it amused her one evening to discover that he thought of himself as the support.
‘It’s going to be a while before I need propping up,’ she laughed, settling on a park bench.
‘Just taking care.’
‘I’m feeling very well. And I’m not worried, honestly.’
After a moment he said, ‘You’re lying. You’re scared.’
‘How do you know?’
‘Because you’re not knitting things. Last time you started knitting from the first day. The place was awash with needles and patterns.’
She smiled. ‘You used to say you couldn’t move without tangling your feet in white wool.’
‘Yes, but I liked it too. And all the soft toys you bought. I’ll never forget the day you finished your first pair of bootees. You were so proud.’
‘Until I discovered that I’d gone cross-eyed on the pattern and made the second one two sizes larger than the first.’
‘Then you burst into tears and couldn’t stop for hours. I didn’t know what to do.’
‘You were very practical,’ she remembered. ‘You said all I had to do was knit two more the same, put the two small ones together as the first pair, and keep the other pair for later. It was a very good suggestion. I don’t know what made me thump you with that toy giraffe.’
‘You didn’t.’
