a high chair. He had a fine-featured face, fair hair, light-brown eyes. I could see instantly that he looked a lot like Maddie.
“You can keep that, if you like,” he added. “And if I could take one of—of Theo…”
“Of course,” I heard myself say. I looked around, but all my pictures were on my phone. The exception was one that someone had sent us after a birthday party, which I’d stuck to the fridge with a magnet. Theo dressed up as a pirate, complete with an eyepatch, a tricorn hat, and a cardboard cutlass that was raised toward the camera, his eyes alive with mischief. I took it down and handed it to Miles.
“Thanks.” He studied it for a moment, his eyes softening. “And this is me,” he added briskly, handing me a business card. “Mobile and email. Get in touch when you’ve had a chance for it all to sink in, yes? And discussed it with Madelyn, of course. Absolutely no pressure, but—I’m here. We both are.” He glanced at Don Maguire, then clarified, “Me and Lucy, I mean. Don’s part in this is over, I guess.”
I looked down at the card. Miles Lambert, Chief Executive Officer, Burton Investments. An office address in central London.
Miles reached down and plucked a foam football from the floor, squeezing it in his hand experimentally. “Sportsman, is he?” he asked conversationally. “Can he catch this yet?”
“Most of the time he can. He’s quite advanced, physically. A bit too advanced, in some ways.”
Miles raised his eyebrows, and I explained. “He sometimes gets a bit physical with the other kids at nursery. It’s something we’re working on.”
“Does he, now? Well, I wouldn’t worry too much about that if I were you. I was the same at his age. It came in quite handy on the rugby pitch later. Didn’t hear anyone complaining then.” Something about the way he said it—fond, almost proprietary—made me realize that, despite the surreal calmness of this conversation, I wasn’t just making small talk with another dad at a party. I was talking to my son’s father. His real father. My world had just turned upside down, and nothing was ever going to be the same again.
“We should get you around,” Miles was saying. “Make some proper introductions. When you’ve had a chance to digest it all.”
I tried to reply, but the words wouldn’t come. There was an awkward moment when I thought I was going to break down. Miles affected not to notice. He raised the picture I’d given him. “Anyway, thanks for this. Lucy will be thrilled. Something to be going on with.”
He tucked the photo inside his suit jacket, then held out his hand. His handshake was dry and decisive. “And try not to worry. We’re all reasonable people. It’s a terrible thing that’s happened, but it’s how we handle it that matters now. I really believe we’ll figure out the best way forward. But for the time being, we’ll get out of your hair.”
Don Maguire shook my hand, too, and suddenly they were gone. Miles Lambert hadn’t touched his coffee. I poured it down the sink. The washing machine beeped and I went to pull it open. Automatically I pulled the wet things out. It was as if I was in a kind of trance. On top of the pile was one of Theo’s T-shirts—mustard yellow, with I’M TWO, WHAT’S YOUR EXCUSE? across the front. For a moment I could almost feel Theo’s hot little body in my hands, the familiar shrug and wriggle of his tiny ribs as I hoisted him over my shoulder, the kick of his legs. Tears pricked my eyes and my chest heaved, but I knew I couldn’t fall apart, not yet. I had to call Maddie.
5
Case no. 12675/PU78B65: AFFIDAVIT UNDER OATH by D. Maguire, cntd.
Together with my client, Miles Lambert, I visited Mr. Riley at home. There we served notice that the child he believed to be his son was in fact the son of my clients, and that, conversely, the child my clients were bringing up was believed to be Mr. Riley’s.
Mr. Riley was understandably distressed by this news. At several points during the subsequent discussion he broke down in tears.
While he recovered his composure, I took the opportunity to make some observations of my surroundings. This was facilitated by the fact that it was a small space, the sitting room, playroom, kitchen, and dining room all being combined in the area in which we were sitting.
There were several