LITMIR.BIZ

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stood up, ready to walk out. ‘Well, I’ll have to persuade them otherwise then, won’t I?’

      His smirk was at full capacity now. ‘They’ve decided to channel all available resources into the project. So, good luck with that.’

      That evening, I arrived home to find Nick in the kitchen, pan-frying tuna steaks. I could see he’d already prepared a salad and the table was set complete with a lit candle.

      ‘Evening, my gorgeous girl,’ he said, handing me a glass of wine.

      I leaned in towards him and rested my head on his shoulder. I knew we’d have to have a conversation about our childless future at some point, but for the time being, I wanted it to just be Nick and I again. Without any complications.

      Suddenly, my phone vibrated. It was a text from Victoria.

      Hurry up. You’re late

      I scrunched up my face, remembering a vague acceptance of a dinner invitation last week.

      ‘What is it?’ Nick asked, sipping some wine.

      I sighed. ‘We’re supposed to be having dinner at Victoria and Mike’s tonight.’

      Nick’s smile faded. He glanced at the tuna steaks and then at the candle burning and then back at me. ‘But I wanted a night with just us,’ he said.

      I leaned over and turned off the hob. ‘So did I,’ I said, ‘but we promised.’

      Nick let out a long sigh and then downed the rest of his wine.

      ‘Come on,’ I said, ‘we’d better get a move on, you know what she gets like if her scallops are overdone.’

      I leaned over and kissed him on the cheek and we made our way next door.

      We rang the doorbell twice before anyone answered, which, given Victoria’s domestic staffing levels, was quite unusual. There was a bit of a kerfuffle, some scratching at the door and what sounded like a tiny bird chirping, before eventually Olga, Victoria’s housekeeper, opened the door. A bundle of grey fluff rolled out onto the flagstone step. I bent down to pick it up. At first I couldn’t quite tell if the warm little body, with the fast-beating heart, was a cat or a rabbit or something else entirely, but when a pair of big blue eyes stared up at me, and the little tail started wagging, I realised it was…

      ‘A puppy?’ Nick asked, leaning in for a closer look.

      Olga ushered us in. ‘I take Rupert now,’ she said.

      ‘No, no, He’s fine with me,’ I said, looking down at his furry face and smiling.

      ‘Careful, he’s likely to pee all over you.’ Victoria strode towards us, looking uncharacteristically flustered. ‘At best.’

      ‘Oooh, I don’t mind,’ I said, cradling him in my arms. I nuzzled his fur with my face. He smelled like malt biscuits and freshly cut grass.

      Nick leaned in closer and stroked him on the tummy. ‘He’s a cute little chap, isn’t he?’

      Victoria smoothed down her ponytail. ‘We need to eat,’ she said. ‘Give the hound back to Olga. And make sure you wash your hands.’

      Mike didn’t join us until we were seated at the table and from his expression, he was as enthused about the dinner party as we were.

      Once Victoria had formally chastised us for being late and thereby being solely responsible for the asparagus’ limpness, she went on to explain Rupert’s arrival.

      ‘Camille’s therapist suggested we get her a pet.’ Victoria sniffed. ‘She said that given the high turnover of au pairs, it would provide a constant in her life.’ She flicked her ponytail and speared a piece of asparagus. ‘Dr Osbourne has been harping on for months now about maternal attachment. Clearly trying to promote that book she wrote. She’s been on the Lorraine show too.’ She took a sip of wine, then shook her head quickly as if to disperse the alcohol. ‘I was raised by sixteen different au pairs and it never did me any harm.’

      Nick started coughing. It looked as though a bit of asparagus had gone down the wrong way.

      Victoria glanced around for Olga, then tutted and topped up her own wine.

      ‘I mean, seriously, what does Dr Osbourne expect me to do?’ she continued, taking a sip. ‘Give up my entire life to bring up my daughter?’

      We all sat in silence. I swallowed the last mouthful of cold asparagus and then Mike stood up to pour us more wine.

      ‘But I bet Camille must love Rupert,’ I said, changing the subject. ‘He’s adorable.’

      Victoria sighed. ‘She’s allergic. She’s gone through two asthma inhalers since we collected him from the breeder.’

      There was a scratching sound along the floorboards, and suddenly Rupert skidded into the dining room, hotly pursued by Olga.

      ‘Rupert, Rupert, come!’ Olga shouted.

      Victoria scowled at Olga. ‘Quiet,’ she said, ‘we are entertaining.’

      ‘Sorry, Mrs Victoria,’ Olga said, then tried to grab Rupert, but he bypassed her hand and scooted under my chair.

      I bent down and picked him up. His eyes were wide, like a five-year-old who’d just arrived at Disney World. He jumped up and licked my face.

      Victoria’s ponytail began to swing violently. ‘Olga, get that dog out of here right now. He’s supposed to be napping.’

      Olga held her hands up. ‘I try, but he no want to nap. He want to play.’

      Suddenly Rupert lunged forwards and swiped a Parmesan shaving from my plate.

      Nick laughed.

      Victoria tutted and marched towards me, snatching Rupert from my grasp. Then, arms outstretched, she handed him to Olga and waved them both out of the room.

      ‘As if having a child isn’t hard enough,’ Victoria said, ‘now I’ve got to train that bloody canine.’

      Mike leaned back in his chair and laughed. ‘You’re not exactly training him though, are you, darling? Olga is.’

      Victoria let out an extended sigh. ‘She knows nothing about dogs. I think they eat them in her country.’ She sipped some wine. ‘I suppose I’ll have to get a dog trainer. As if I haven’t got enough to do already.’

      Mike laughed again, though louder this time. ‘Yes, whatever next, you might have to cancel a Pilates session or a lunch or, heaven forbid, a hair appointment,’ he said, taking another gulp of wine.

      Victoria swished her ponytail from side to side. ‘Excuse me, Michael—’ she’d taken to calling him Michael since they’d joined the Chelsea Harbour Club ‘—I didn’t give up my career to manage household administration every day.’

      Mike refilled his glass and leaned further back in his chair. ‘So, tell us, Victoria. What precisely did you give up your career to do?’

      Victoria’s ponytail slowed to a stop and she glared at Mike.

      Nick shot me a sideways glance.

      I shifted in my seat, hoping Rupert would come skidding back into the room and divert the conversation.

      Fortunately, Olga returned instead, with the main course.

      ‘Filet de boeuf,’ she announced plonking the tray down on the table. ‘And yes, Mrs Victoria, I wash my hands.’

      We ate the beef in silence. Occasionally, I glanced at Nick but mostly I just chewed and gazed around the room. Whenever I visited Victoria’s house, I felt as though I’d stepped into the centre spread of Home and Garden magazine. It seemed unfair that she could just swish her ponytail like a wand and get everything she’d ever wished for. My vision board was plastered with images of interiors like this, dotted around the doctored photo of Nick and

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