Page 93 of Endgame

It starts as a little laugh and ends up building to a point where I can’t stop. Caleb joins in and we hold on to each other, laughing.

‘I love you, Caleb.’ And I do. I really, really do.

‘I love you too. And let this be a warning to naughty girls who do what they want. They don’t get to escape the consequences of their actions.’ He hugs me tightly. He has pinpointed when it could have happened.

‘You were a willing participant!’

‘For sure, but let’s not forget that I was also the voice of reason. I told you what good girls would do.’

‘I haven’t been a good girl since that first night on the kitchen counter, Caleb.’

‘I doubt you were a good girl before that!’

My shocked look makes him laugh.

‘Thank you for making this feel lighter, Caleb.’

‘Don’t thank me just yet. I don’t trust my judgement when it comes to you, Ariella Mason. I’d literally commit to raising a colony of rabies-infested vampire bats in the middle of any war-torn country of your choice, as long as I was doing it with you.’

I believe him. I close my eyes and he hugs me to sleep.

TWENTY-TWO

CALEB

I spend the entire evening fighting the urge to tell Tim, Jack, Jasper or Dahlia. The only person I can really talk to is Lara. I want to text her, but the silence surrounding us as Ariella snoozes the evening away on my chest feels like something I need to hold on to. So after I check my calendar for her last shark week’s dates, and establish that it was six weeks ago, I do the most destructive thing I could possibly do. I go on the internet and search the word ‘baby’.

Truthfully, I don’t know how I feel about it. There have been many times when I have looked at Ariella and imagined what our kids would be like, and concluded that as long as they were like her, they’d be bloody brilliant. They’d be loved and cared for, and we’d dedicate our lives to making sure they were fine. They’d be immersed in Dahlia, Hugh, Zachary, Isszy, Jasper and Gigi’s love from the start. All that would counter the family horror I’d bring to the table as baggage. While I may not know how to be a good parent, I certainly know how to avoid being a bad one. When I follow this thread of thought, my hope is that she keeps it.

But right now, our lives are a shit show. I’m not ready. We’re stuck in Singapore. I own two gyms that I highly suspect aremoney pits, and have an embarrassingly weak plan for them. Ariella doesn’t know what she wants to do once these two years are up. We have the flat but I’ve never really wanted to raise a child in London. Then again, I’ve never actually wanted to raise a child full stop. I love Alfie, but he has always belonged to someone else and the reason why I can give everything I am to him while we are together is because I know that, eventually, he has to return to Tim and Em.

The internet search doesn’t help. Instead, it scares me absolutely shitless. On the one hand, some experiences of parenthood sound profound and sublime. On the other hand, people are losing their minds out there. I look hard for a simple, balanced ‘meh, it was all right’ experience and there isn’t one. Whatever we do, we’re fucked – which means whatever we do, we’re going to be okay.

It pains me to stroke her arm awake because she seems so tired, but she hasn’t eaten since breakfast and even that ended up down the loo.

‘Mason,’ I whisper. ‘Would you like something to eat?’

She stirs and shakes her head.

‘Cheese on toast?’

She opens an eye before she sits up slowly.

‘Maybe just toast?’

I can definitely do that. I plant a kiss on her head. There is so much more than I can fathom going on in there. I wish I could reach in, grab a load of the thoughts that torment her and throw them out. She hides it well, but I know that sometimes they can get the better of her. When I get to the kitchen, I make three slices of the most careful cheese on toast that I have ever made. I know how she likes it, so it has to be perfect. When that’s under the grill, I make the toast she requested and boil the kettle for some ginger tea. This way, she has a choice and MsPat will be pleased that I listened.

Whatever happens, I’m determined not to be a passenger. I want to be involved, helpful and supportive for her.

She eats her toast slowly and gratefully moves on to a piece of the cheese on toast that I made, then I give her my second slice.

The more I watch her slowly eat and drink her tea, the more I think I might want this pregnancy. We’ve created a little miracle, currently the size of a sesame seed, that contains something from both of us.

‘Come on, let’s go to bed.’

She nods and I let her lead the way up the stairs. I lock and check our doors twice before I turn the lights off behind us. Nothing ever happens in Singapore, but I am hyperaware tonight.

I put her in bed, hop in and out of the shower quickly, then lie down beside her. I pull her in close and hold her hand as she places it on my heart. I start the belly tickles she adores and she’s asleep in minutes.

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