Page 9 of The Un-Apparent Heir

“You don’t understand. Trying to keep Lucy calm and impressing her with being thoughtful is what Lucy thinks is Winston’s love language. Winston isn’t always so good at reading her. However, his real love language is asking for help and knowing where to go for it. It’s resourcefulness.”

Ed chuckled. “Okay, okay.”

“And… sent. Yes. He will be alright, won’t he, darling?” Natalie cooed at baby Malcolm.

The baby smiled broadly and grabbed her face.

“You are such a stinker,” Natalie giggled. “Do you feel better now? Lighter, probably. God, I never knew babies could shit so often until this one. I suppose he’s the first one we had that much contact with.”

“Yeah,” Ed’s face softened. “He’s a doll.”

“Watching you with him is painful somehow,” Natalie said.

“Painful?”

“My poor ovaries need a break.”

Ed felt his stomach dip. Talk of baby-making sent him spiralling.

“Pull up, Edwin,” Natalie said.

She half-joked, but her voice was tender. She’d hit a nerve.

“I love you,” Natalie assured. “That’s why I want everything with you. And this, too. But don’t panic. Don’t go there. Spatial disorientation is awful. Be like a gymnast or a diver. Don’t lose control of that point on the horizon.”

“What?”

“Gymnast—and platform divers, I assume—get the twisties, right?”

Ed shook his head, shaking off whatever he focused on. He tried to follow his wife.

“Yes. I’ve heard of that.”

“Any of us can get spatial disorientation. But it’s in a dogfight when you’re exhausted and taking eight Gs that it can come up and kick you in the arse. You’ll get yourself in a pickle if you don’t take a deep breath and realise you’re inverted and not aware of where your wings are. You must course correct or go down. I can see you in a spiral. It’s just like a gymnast over-rotating. It’s dangerous. I have seen it happen to people. Don’t let yourself spiral, Ed. I’m here, okay.”

“And what if it never happens?”

“I am always here, Edwin. I am always here for you, darling, as you are here for me. If it were all on me—if I had no eggs—would you leave me? Would you blame me?”

The baby fussed.

“He wants a bottle,” Natalie said. “A top-up before actual bed. We won’t tell Daddy we failed to adhere to your precious schedule. What are aunts and uncles good for if they can’t spoil the dickens out of you, right?”

Ed smiled. He’d never leave Natalie over such a thing. She was everything—sometimes the entire reason he got out of bed. Her enthusiasm for life was infectious if often misdirected. She was terrifyingly brave. Sometimes, Ed felt directionless, while Natalie rarely suffered from a moment’s doubt.

Ed would never leave her because she couldn’t produce a baby. He’d scorn anyone who suggested such a thing. She was his person—for life. And yet, he couldn’t feel the same about his situation. He prized Natalie above all else. She was a superhuman deserving of a baby. She needed a legacy. He failed his one job. It felt altogether different.

3

BACK TO THE BEGINNING

Lucy soured as Winston and she arrived at a new, over-the-top luxury hotel. They’d given up on their short city break. He tried, at least. She knew Winston’s instinct was to run home to the baby. Instead, he arranged for a hotel and a car. He swore she’d still get her well-deserved spa day come hell or high water. Still, she was bitter that his first response was to neglect her rather than invest in their relationship.

She was so frustrated as they boarded the elevator, that she wanted to sleep. Winston went over the top and invested in the best suite. At least he never skimped. She just hated that they were like every other married couple with kids. He’d given up already, needing prompting to do even the least bit of work to impress her and make her feel loved.

Lucy wandered to one of the two bedrooms in the suite, satisfied. She tipped the bellhop and listened to Winston cancel their hotel and Swiss flight. She flopped onto the bed and kicked her shoes off. Winston arrived as she was nodding off.

“Want dinner? A proper dinner?” Winston asked. “Because we haven’t had one.”

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