Page 89 of The Un-Apparent Heir

“The bump hold. You’re cupping your bump. You’ll use it as a shelf for the next five or so months, you know? So, don’t panic, but you’re doing it.”

Natalie realised what she meant. She poked her stomach. “Yeah, it’s weird. I still don’t quite look pregnant, but I can feel a bump poking out.”

“It looks mostly like a burrito until one day you wake up and your body has popped. You’re adorable. Soak it up. Everyone is so happy.”

“I know. We keep getting baby-related mail at the office. The number of people who have quickly knitted booties and hats is alarming,” Natalie said.

“Everyone who watched you grow up and hoped for you—prayed for you—feels like they are part of this story, Natalie. It’s a beautiful thing. It’s weird, sure, but… we always wanted you to get your happy ending and be a mum.”

Natalie smiled. “Okay, Lady Chamberlain.”

“Oh, stop,” Lucy giggled. “My circus, my monkeys.”

“The Herder of Cats and Maker of Miracles has entered our airspace,” Natalie cried.

“And she’s not leaving,” Lucy promised. “Now, before you wipe grease into your eyes, I will leave you. Finish whatever the fuck this is and come in. Sanne brought ice cream.”

“Why didn’t you lead with that?” Natalie called.

“I let you land the plane!”

“It’s my plane. I let you play captain.”

“Okay, this again?” Lucy groaned.

They landed at Heathrow and taxied to the private terminal. Now, George and Natalie argued over who did what and how well they did it as their passengers filed out. It was a blast from the past.

“Mummy, why do they argue so much?” Malcolm whispered.

“Ask yourself why you argue with Niall so much,” Lucy said. “It’s just having a sibling, sweetheart.”

“My puppy! Puppy! Puppy!” Niall shouted as Winston attempted to herd two dogs downstairs. Amon, the older and more grizzled, stood at the top of the plane’s steps.

“I can grab him,” Natalie said.

“Like hell, you will!” George said. “You are not to lift anything. You and Lucy are here to keep us all from going rogue, not to do manual labour.”

“And yet I managed to move parts of an engine around last night and not lose my head, dear brother.”

George placed the dog on the ground, glaring.

“If I was doing it before, I can keep doing it,” Natalie said. “That includes flying a jet that maxes out at a ceiling of a paltry 30.”

“Okay, I’m just gonna say it because if I don’t say it, I might lose it,” Patrick said, helping Lucy’s dog Frida down to the tarmac. “I do not want to listen to this pissing contest well into the rest of the weekend. We went up to grab the dogs. We helped Lucy and Winston. Now, we are done discussing planes! And Nat, if you disagree, I don’t care. Ed will back me up.”

Natalie rolled her eyes. “We must get the dogs back. Children, are you ready for an adventure?”

“What is it? A space shuttle?” Malcolm gasped.

“No. God, I wish,” Natalie laughed. “You’ll ride back with me because your Mum and Dad have a date with an estate agent.”

Winston looked at Lucy, hopeful.

“That sounds boring,” Malcolm announced.

“Oh, darling, it is. Come along.” The boys followed Natalie to the car.

“Give me that,” George took Iona from Lucy’s arms. “Iona, your mother will return. Until then, you are stuck with us.”

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