don’t want to know.’
I paused the fryer. ‘Let’s say you are pregnant. How did we get to this?’
‘When we got back together,’ she said, ‘I was off the pill. I went back on it sharpish, and that was okay, but my body didn’t take to it like before. So I switched to what they call the mini-pill; it has only one hormone, progesterone. The problem may be that I didn’t read the advice, that for the first couple of days, you should use a back-up method.’
‘Johnnies?’
She nodded. ‘We could also have abstained, of course.’
I threw her a mock frown. ‘Sure we could.’
She allowed me a hint of a smile. ‘But we didn’t, and so there may have been a very small window of opportunity.’
‘Wow! As marksmanship goes . . .’
‘Yeah, we may have shot the arrow right through it.’
‘Do the test tomorrow. Otherwise you’ll fret for another week.’
‘Okay,’ she conceded. ‘I will.’
‘Good,’ I said, restarting the fryer. ‘Now let me get on with feeding the kids that we have already.’
She fell silent, watching me as I loaded the grill, set the beans to heat, then went to work on the onions in a big frying pan. They were turning a satisfactory golden colour when she spoke again.
‘Bob,’ she ventured, ‘if the test is positive, as I’m sure it will be, how will you feel?’
I glanced across at her. ‘Once I get over being gobsmacked, I’ll be delighted . . . as long as you are too. How do you feel about it?’
‘Honestly? I can’t get my head round it. Apart from anything else, the timing’s terrible; Joe’s about to retire, and I’m about to assume the chair of forensic pathology. I’ll have a department to run, undergraduates and postgrads to mentor, people’s careers in my hands. It’s a huge responsibility, but it’s something I’ve looked forward to as a challenge. And what do I do? As soon as that moment arrives, I go off on maternity leave? That doesn’t sit comfortably with me.’
I’d known from the outset she’d feel that way, but I needed her to articulate it.
‘Understood. But it’s not your fault, accidents happen. You of all people must know that; you’ve built a career out of examining their consequences.’
‘In this case,’ she countered, ‘there is clear contributory negligence. Mine, not yours,’ she added.
I worked the onions even harder, throwing in some Worcester sauce as they started to brown. ‘You could have a termination,’ I murmured, without looking at her.
‘How would you feel about that?’
‘I will support whatever decision you make.’
‘That’s not an answer.’
‘It’s the best you’re going to get,’ I told her. ‘I love you, and your happiness is paramount.’
‘Even if it means killing your child?’
She had me there. Instantly, I was back in Fort Kinnaird; but I steeled myself and answered as best I could. ‘It would be as if this discussion never happened, and we’d never mention it again.’
She stepped beside me and hugged me, awkwardly. ‘You’re a doll. But that’s not what we do, you and I, is it?’
‘No,’ I agreed, ‘it’s not.’ Then I laughed again. ‘Hell, we could have Ignacio back here around that time. What’s another kid? We’ll give Trish a pay rise for the extra workload. We’ll make the house bigger, if we have to. Now, you go on and fetch the bears; this masterpiece is just about ready for them.’
We ate round the kitchen table, all five of us. Twelve months before, I could not have imagined that ever happening again, but it has. As I reflected on my own good fortune it brought me back to the ill luck of others, and made me sombre once more. To hide my feelings from the kids I went back to work as soon as I had finished the last of my perfectly grilled tuna, chopping a pineapple and a honeydew melon into cubes, then sharing them out in bowls, each one topped with a scoop of butterscotch ice cream.
We had barely finished dessert when the doorbell rang. I have a discreet security camera that’s a holdover from my former career and that I’ve kept. It lets me see who’s calling, just in case whoever it is might have an axe to grind, or might be carrying one. I checked the monitor and saw a uniformed cop, a motorcycle officer, with his helmet in one hand and a package in the other.
‘Evening, sir,’ he said, as I opened the door. I recognised him from many encounters.
‘Craig,’ I greeted him. ‘This is a