to shut you up, there’s a grizzling child next door, and you prefer it when both of you are sober.
I started to kiss her neck, which she likes, then pushed her T-shirt up and moved down her shoulder toward her breasts.
“At least Theo likes Michaela,” Maddie added. “I think it’ll be fine.”
I rubbed her nipple gently with my nose.
“And if it doesn’t work out, you’ve got him on the waiting list for that other nursery. So that’ll be good.” She yawned. “I think I’ll go to sleep, actually. Do you mind? I’m not quite in the zone.”
38
PETE
NEXT MORNING I PUT Theo into the car and drove over to Highgate. It was a fiddly, crosstown journey, complicated by having to get through at least half a dozen school drop-off zones. A drive that had taken less than twenty minutes on a Saturday took almost forty in rush hour.
Lucy came to the door in an elegant pair of designer jeans and a knee-length woolen cardigan. “Pete,” she said warmly. “How lovely to see you. And hello there, Theo.”
“ ’SMoles here?” Theo asked hopefully.
She laughed. “No, he’s at work. That’s what daddies do.” She stopped. “Sorry, Pete. I didn’t mean…”
“That’s all right. Are you really sure this is okay? I don’t want to impose on you.”
“No, it’s wonderful. Tania’s been baking fat-free cakes for them both. Come in and say hello.”
“Tania?” I said, puzzled, as I followed her through to the kitchen.
“The nanny. Tania, this is Theo, and Theo’s dad, Pete.”
A dark-haired young woman turned toward us from the Aga. She was wearing oven gloves and carrying a baking tray, but she immediately put the tray down and took her hand out of the glove to shake mine. “Pleased to meet you,” she said politely, in French-accented English. She even gave me a little bob.
I looked at Lucy. “I thought Michaela was the nanny.” In the car I’d been keeping Theo’s morale up by speculating about what crazy games he and Mika would be playing today.
“We had to let her go. Miles was furious with her, actually.”
“Why? What did she do?”
“He doesn’t like the nannies being glued to their phone screens when they’re being paid to look after David. And he doesn’t let them use the coffeemaker whenever they feel like it—they have Nescafé and the internet in their bedroom, for when they’re not working. Anyway, last week he saw Michaela on the nannycam, drinking a cappuccino and scrolling through social media. So of course she had to go.”
“You have a nannycam?”
Lucy nodded. “You have to, really, don’t you? It’s not that you even need to look at it very often. Miles says it’s just about making sure you can trust them to stick to the rules.”
I looked around. I could see a cappuccino maker—a more expensive model than mine—but no camera. Miles must have hidden it, I realized.
“Right, Theo. Better be on your best behavior,” I said brightly. “Somebody might be watching you, so think about that.”
Slightly self-consciously, I went into the playroom and squatted down next to where David was sitting on the floor. “Hi, David.”
His eyes turned toward me curiously. Maddie’s eyes, the exact same shape and shade, but without Maddie’s energy, her ever-changing, expressive liveliness. He looked away again.
“What are you up to?” I asked gently. Again, nothing.
“I’ve brought Theo to play with you.” I wasn’t sure if he recognized Theo’s name, or whether it was because Theo just happened to charge in at that moment, but it seemed to me that David shrank back slightly. I patted him on the head. His blond hair was so fine, I could feel the shape of his skull. It was eerily similar to Maddie’s, and so different from Theo’s heavy black curls.
“Well, I’ll see you at twelve thirty,” I said to Theo as I got up. “Remember to play nicely.”
“There’s really no rush,” Lucy said. “By the time you’ve gotten home, you’ll be setting off again. Why doesn’t Theo stay for lunch? Then he can rest in the car on the way back.”
* * *
—
I WENT HOME, BUT it was hard to concentrate. Driving across London had been more tiring than the stroll to the nursery used to be. But it wasn’t just that. I kept thinking of David, sitting in that massive playroom, surrounded by shelves of toys he couldn’t play with. There’d been something shut-in about him, something passive. It would be so easy to ignore a child like that, particularly with a fireball like Theo around.
Our house