“It’s likely that Dr. Carter will have an unexpected vacancy on her books. We’ll be able to let you know within the next few days.”
“OK,” I gasp. “Thanks very much!”
REGAL AIRLINES
HEAD OFFICE PRESTON HOUSE • 354 KINGSWAY • LONDON WC2
4TH
Mrs Rebecca Brandon 37 Maida Vale Mansions Maida Vale
London NW6 0YF
14 August 2003
Dear Mrs. Brandon,
Thank you for your letter, and the enclosed flight itineraries, doctor’s note, and scan pictures.
I agree that your unborn child has taken many flights with Regal Airlines. Unfortunately it does not qualify for air miles, since it did not buy a ticket for any of these flights.
I am sorry to disappoint and hope you choose Regal Airlines again soon.
Yours sincerely,
Margaret McNair
Customer Service Manager
THREE
I HAVEN’T MENTIONED ANYTHING more about Venetia Carter to Luke.
For a start, it’s not definite yet. And for another start, if marriage has taught me one thing, it’s to not bring up tricky subjects when your husband is stressed out launching offices simultaneously in Amsterdam and Munich. He’s been away all week, and only arrived back last night, exhausted.
Besides which, changing doctors isn’t the only tricky subject I need to broach. There’s also the very slight scratch on the Mercedes (which was not my fault — it was that stupid bollard) and the two pairs of shoes I want him to get from Miu Miu when he goes to Milan.
It’s Saturday morning, and I’m sitting in the office, checking my bank statement on my laptop. I only discovered online banking a couple of months ago — and it has so many advantages. You can do it any time of day! Plus, they don’t send bank statements out by post, so no one (e.g., your husband) can see them lying around the house.
“Becky, I’ve had a letter from my mother.” Luke comes in, holding the post and a mug of coffee. “She sends her regards.”
“Your mother?” I try to hide my horror. “You mean Elinor? What does she want?”
Luke has two mothers. His lovely, warm stepmother, Annabel, who lives in Devon with his dad and who we visited last month. And his ice-queen of a real mother, Elinor, who lives in America and abandoned him when he was little and in my opinion should be excommunicated.
“She’s touring Europe with her art collection.”
“Why?” I ask blankly. I have a vision of Elinor in a coach, a bundle of paintings under her arm. It doesn’t seem very her, somehow.
“The collection is currently on loan to the Uffizi, then a gallery in Paris—” Luke breaks off. “Becky, you didn’t think I meant she was taking her pictures on holiday.”
“Of course not,” I say with dignity. “I knew exactly what you meant.”
“Anyway, she’ll be in London later on in the year and wants to meet up.”
“Luke…I thought you hated your mother. I thought you never wanted to see her again, remember?”
“Come on, Becky.” Luke frowns slightly. “She’s going to be the grandmother of our child. We can’t shut her out completely.”
Yes we can! I want to retort. But instead, I give an unwilling kind of half shrug. I suppose he’s right. The baby will be her only grandchild. It’ll have her blood in it.
Oh God, what if it takes after Elinor? I’m stricken by a terrible vision of a baby lying in a pram in a cream Chanel suit, glaring up at me and saying, “Your outfit is shoddy, Mother.”
“So, what are you up to?” Luke breaks into my thoughts, and too late I realize he’s heading across the room toward me. Right toward my laptop.
“Nothing!” I say quickly. “It’s just my bank statement….” I try to close the window I’m on, but it’s frozen. Damn.
“Something wrong?” says Luke.
“No!” I say, panicking slightly. “I mean…I’ll just shut the whole thing down!” I casually rip the power cord out of the back — but the screen is still powered up. The statement is there, in black and white.
And Luke’s getting nearer. I’m really not sure I want him seeing this.
“Let me have a go.” Luke reaches my chair. “Are you on the bank’s Web site?”
“Er…kind of! Honestly, I wouldn’t bother….” I position my bump in front of the screen, but Luke is peering round me. He stares at the statement for a few disbelieving moments.
“Becky,” he says at last. “Does that say ‘First Cooperative Bank of Namibia’?”
“Er…yes.” I try to sound matter-of-fact. “I have a small online account there.”
“In Namibia?”
“They sent me an e-mail offering me very competitive rates,” I say a little defiantly. “It was a great opportunity.”
“Do you respond to every e-mail you get, Becky?” Luke turns, incredulous. “Do you have a fine selection of Viagra substitutes too?”
I knew he wouldn’t understand my brilliant new banking strategy.
“Don’t get so stressy!” I say. “Why is it such a big deal where I bank? Commerce has gone global, you know, Luke. The old boundaries are gone. If you can get a good rate in Bangladesh, then—”
“Bangladesh?”
“Oh. Well…er…I’ve got a bank account there too. Just a tiny one,” I add quickly, looking at his expression.
“Becky…” Luke seems to be having trouble taking all this in. “How many of these online bank accounts have you opened?”