Page 36 of The Affairs of Ashmore Castle

‘Nothing’s wrong,’ Kitty said. And then it came out in a rush. ‘I had a brother once,’ she said. ‘I never told you. But he died, when he was only four. He was strong and healthy before that.’ She paused, then added in a low voice, ‘I loved him so much.’

Giles pressed her hand. There was nothing he could say to reassure her. People died, children died, babies died, and there was nothing you could do about it. But you couldn’t live your life in fear. You could only proceed on the assumption that people would live. Yes, but though he felt a powerful and terrible connection to this scrap of flesh, he was not a mother, and he couldn’t know what that felt like. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said.

Kitty thought how impossible it was to explain exactly what she felt. Yes, she had loved her brother, had mourned him dreadfully when he died. She had thought before the birth that she would feel the same about her own baby, but something had changed in her when she had begun to feed him at her breast. Now there was a love that was like a strong plant rooted deep in her stomach, so tough that if anything tried to pull it out, it would rip the insides out of her. Loving her brother had, in comparison, been like loving a pet dog. And with this love came a fierce determination to protect her baby at all costs from anything that might harm him. The determination gave her courage. There was a steel deep inside her, that had only emerged once before – in the early days of their marriage, when she had felt herself slighted for another woman. She thought of that almost wonderingly – that something so trivial could have moved her so much. Her baby was of a completely different order of importance. Her brother was a faded flower by comparison – even Giles seemed just then almost irrelevant.

Giles took the baby from her, and she let him go reluctantly, her arms greedy to have him back.

‘What was his name – your brother?’

‘Peter,’ she said.

Giles settled the baby in the crook of his arm, getting more used to holding him now. ‘Would you like to call our son Peter?’ he asked. He didn’t like it much as a name, and it was not a family name, and he was sure his mother would not approve, but he wanted to please her.

‘No,’ she said. ‘But thank you.’

Giles hid his relief. His mother had been suggesting names at the dinner table for the past three days – making up for her absence at the crucial moment, he thought, by taking charge of everything else she could. Better to choose a name privately with Kitty and present Mama with a fait accompli and no room for argument.

‘We ought to decide on something,’ he said

‘Whatever you think best,’ Kitty said. For now, her baby was such an absolute to her, it seemed almost silly to think he needed a name. She and he lived inside a tight bubble that was the whole universe. But there were people outside who needed references.

‘What do you think about Louis?’ Giles said. ‘It was one of my father’s names – Grandmère’s father was a Louis. I don’t really see him as a William, and William, Henry and George are the family names.’

‘How did you get to be Giles?’ Kitty asked.

‘My father chose it – to annoy my mother, I think. But my second name’s William.’

‘Yes, I remember hearing it at our wedding. Giles William Henry Tallant,’ Kitty said. She remembered, wonderingly, the wedding and the days immediately afterwards, when she had learned about love. She had loved him so passionately. It all seemed so far away now.

‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I never liked any of my names. Perhaps people never do.’

‘I haven’t thought about it. I’ve always been Catherine, so it’s hard to imagine anything else.’

So their conversations always went, he thought. A philosophical idea set free by him, and nailed down to the here-and-now by her. If only . . . But he must not think disloyal thoughts, especially now.

Kitty was watching him, aware, as always, of so much going on inside his head that she would never be party to. And now she was the same, a universe of thought he could not access. ‘I like the sound of Louis,’ she said.

‘Then it shall be Louis,’ said Giles. ‘And what do you say to Sebastian? Uncle Sebastian would be so tickled.’

‘Oh yes. I love Uncle Sebastian,’ said Kitty. She added, ‘Actually, I quite like Henry.’

‘Henry’s not too bad,’ Giles agreed. ‘Well, then shall it be Louis Sebastian Henry Peter?’ He looked down at the absurdly small face. ‘He’s rather small for such a large name,’ he said.

‘Let me have him,’ Kitty demanded. Giles handed him back. ‘Thank you,’ she said profoundly.

He didn’t know whether the thanks were for the return of the baby, or the ‘Peter’ in his name.