Read Cocktails for Three for Free Online

and again that the London streets were full of perfectly healthy children; that parks were safer places to ride bicycles than country lanes; that nature existed even in cities, Giles had still not been persuaded.
    Then, when he’d started applying for the details of country houses— glorious old rectories, complete withpanelled dining rooms, acres of land and tennis courts— she’d found herself weakening. Wondering if it was indeed selfish to stay in London. On a wonderfully sunny day in June, they’d gone to look at The Pines. The drive had crackled under the wheels of their car; the swimming pool had glinted in the sun, the lawns had been mowed in light and dark green stripes. After showing them round the house, the own ers had poured them glasses of Pimm’s and invited them to sit under the weeping willow, then tactfully moved away. And Giles had looked at Maggie and said, “This could be ours, darling. This life could be ours.”
    And now that life was theirs. Except it wasn’t so much a life yet as a large house which Maggie still didn’t feel she knew very well. On working days, she barely saw the place. At the weekends, they often went away, or up to London to see friends. She had done none of the redecorations she had planned; in some strange way she felt as though the house wasn’t really hers yet.
    But things would be different when the baby arrived, she told herself. The house would really become a home. Maggie put her hands on her bump and felt the squirming, intriguing movements beneath her skin. A smooth lump rippled across her belly and disappeared as though back into the ocean. Then, with no warning, something hard jabbed into her ribs. A heel, perhaps, or a knee. It jabbed again and again, as though desperate to break out. Maggie closed her eyes. It could be any time now, her pregnancy handbook had advised her. The baby was fully matured; she could go into labour at any moment.
    At the thought, her heart began to thump with a familiar panic, and she began quickly to think reassuringthoughts. Of course, she was prepared for the baby. She had a nursery full of nappies and cotton wool; tiny vests and blankets. The Moses basket was ready on its stand; the cot had been ordered from a department store. Everything was waiting.
    But somehow— despite all that— she secretly still didn’t feel quite ready to be a mother. She almost didn’t feel
old
enough to be a mother. Which was ridiculous, she told herself firmly, bearing in mind she was thirty-two years old and had had an entire nine months to get used to the idea.
    â€œYou know, I can’t believe it’s really happening,” she said. “Three weeks away. That’s nothing! And I haven’t been to any classes, or anything . . .”
    â€œYou don’t need classes!” said Giles. “You’ll be great! The best mother a baby could have.”
    â€œReally?” Maggie bit her lip. “I don’t know. I just feel a bit . . . unprepared.”
    â€œWhat’s to prepare?”
    â€œWell, you know. Labour, and everything.”
    â€œOne word,” said Giles firmly. “Drugs.”
    Maggie giggled. “And afterwards. You know. Looking after it. I’ve never even
held
a baby.”
    â€œYou’ll be fantastic!” said Giles at once. “Maggie, if anyone can look after a baby, you can. Come on.” He turned and flashed a smile at her. “Who was voted Editor of the Year?”
    â€œI was,” she said, grinning proudly in spite of herself.
    â€œWell then. And you’ll be Mother of the Year, too.” He reached out and squeezed her hand, and Maggie squeezed gratefully back. Giles’s optimism never failed to cheer her.
    â€œMum said she’d pop round tomorrow,” said Giles. “Keep you company.”
    â€œOh good,” said Maggie. She thought of Giles’s mother, Paddy— a thin, dark-haired woman who had,