The Two Week Wait by Sarah Rayner Read Free Book Online

she reasons to herself. I love her – I wouldn’t be looking at buying a flat with her if I didn’t. But I
want to go to parties, travel, play – yes, with Lou. And until all this, I’d assumed she felt the same . . .
    Given we tend to discuss so much, I suppose it’s surprising the subject hasn’t come up; we’ve moved fast in other respects. But cohabiting can be undone, having a child
can’t. Maybe deep down I’ve been wary of uncovering such a difference between us. And now it seems there’s no room for being blurry; apparently we have to decide one way or the
other, soon.
    Maybe I could have a baby? she wonders, as she waits at a pedestrian crossing. But at once she rejects the idea. She can’t countenance taking months out of her job when she’s
just been promoted, and she can hardly promise Lou that she will do so for sure in the future.
    What a mess: rarely has Sofia felt so guilty and inadequate. When she pushes open the door to the office there’s a blast of warm air, the sound of phones and chatting, the smell of toast.
Work beckons. For the time being, at least, she can lose herself in that.
    *  *  *
    ‘You OK?’ asks Anna. ‘You’ve gone very pensive.’
    Lou is leaning against the train window, watching the gardens of south London whoosh by. ‘Mm. I was thinking.’
    ‘You’ll be all right.’
    Lou wonders if she should admit what’s upsetting her. It’s just the two of them and Anna has confided in her often enough.
    ‘Is it what Sofia said about children?’
    Lou nods.
    ‘She might come round.’
    ‘I thought we’d have quite a while before we had to think about it seriously.’
    ‘Finding that you don’t must be quite a shock.’
    ‘It is.’
    ‘For both of you. She’s probably still coming to terms with it.’
    ‘Though she sounded pretty adamant, didn’t she?’
    ‘It’s not surprising. She’s young. What is she – twenty-eight? Twenty-nine?’
    ‘Twenty-eight,’ says Lou.
    ‘I certainly didn’t think about having children at her age.’
    ‘So . . . Can I ask?’ Lou turns to face her friend. ‘What about you?’
    ‘Sorry?’
    ‘Did you ever want kids?’
    Anna shrugs. ‘It just didn’t happen for me. That’s it, really.’
    ‘Do you mind?’
    Anna fidgets with her empty coffee cup. ‘Um . . . A bit, I suppose. But I was never the kind of person who was so eager to have children I’d have gone and done it on my own
– like those single women who just feel a burning desire to be a mother no matter what. And somehow, none of the men I’ve been involved with seemed appropriate father
material.’
    ‘I can see Steve wasn’t.’
    ‘No,’ she laughs ruefully. ‘He was rather a child himself – imagine trying to get him to change nappies and things, drinking like he did. But as it is, I was forty by the
time I met Steve. The guy I was with before that wanted children, but I could never imagine us as a family, which is why we split up. I guess if I’d really wanted them, I would have
picked a man I could see myself being a parent with.’
    ‘But you’re so good with kids.’
    ‘Thank you. Though not as good as you.’
    ‘I’m not so sure.’
    ‘No, I’m only good with kids I like. I’m good with Molly and Luke because they’re Karen’s children and I love Karen and I’ve known them since they were born
and they’re adorable. But you – you’re good with kids who frankly, I couldn’t bear to be around. You work with the kind of kids who listen to music on their mobiles at full
pelt on the top deck of the bus just to annoy other people. I brush against them for ten minutes a day and that’s too much. You counsel them. I want to kill them.’
    Lou laughs. ‘I suppose.’
    ‘You definitely definitely want them?’
    The train is coming into Victoria – all around them people are shuffling papers into briefcases, putting away books and magazines, shutting down their laptops. The man across the aisle
gets to his feet, the woman