Page 24 of Postscript

‘OK,’ he says, reaching to his plate on the floor to spear some left-over steak.

‘When do you want to have a baby?’

His eyes widen comically and he immediately puts the steak in his mouth, chewing slowly.

I laugh. ‘Come on. What do you think?’

‘I think,’ he talks through his chews, ‘we need to start marinating our steak.’

‘OK, if you’re not going to be adult about it, I’ll speak. We’ve been married for two years, and apart from one horrible summer, and the two weeks we broke up when I saw you kissing Jennifer O’Brien, we’ve been together—’

‘I did not kiss Jennifer O’Brien.’

‘She kissed you.’ I’m smiling. I’m really over it by this point. We were fourteen years old at the time.

‘She didn’t even kiss me. She leaned in and brushed my lips, and the reason we brushed is because I moved my head away. Let it go,’ he besieges me, mockingly.

‘Hmm. Anyway. Let me continue.’

‘Please do.’

‘We’ve been married for two years.’

‘You said that.’

I ignore him, continuing: ‘And we’ve been together twelve years. Give or take.’

‘Give. Always give.’

‘And we said as soon as we left the rat-infested apartment—’

‘One mouse. One time.’

‘And bought our first house, we would discuss when to have a baby. We have now bought a house, which we won’t own for another one hundred years, but isn’t it time for the discussion?’

‘And no better time than right when Man United have just kicked off against Arsenal. No better time at all.’

I laugh. ‘You have a stable job—’

‘Oh, you’re still talking.’

‘And when I’m working, my jobs are stable.’

‘Between the instability,’ he agrees.

‘Yes. But I currently have a job that I dislike intensely and won’t miss while on maternity leave.’

‘I don’t think you get maternity leave in temp jobs. You’re covering for somebody else’s leave.’ He looks at me, his eyes laughing at me.

‘OK, so maybe I don’t get maternity leave, but I do get leave,’ I reason. ‘So all I have to do is get pregnant and leave …’

He laughs.

‘And you are beautiful, I love you, and you have powerful super semen that should not be kept away from the world, hidden away down there, in a dark place, all alone.’ I make a sad face.

He chuckles harder.

‘They’re ready to create a super species. I sense it.’