‘What do you mean?’ I falter at last.
If he has arranged his own birthday party without telling me, I will murder him. I mean it.
‘Darling, I could tell you were disappointed last night when I said I’d be at the training progamme,’ he’s saying. ‘I could see it in your face.’
No I wasn’t! I want to yell. I wasn’t! You’re all wrong!
‘Oh yes?’ I manage.
‘And it got me thinking. It’s my birthday! Fuck it, we should celebrate. We’ve got through a hell of a year and we deserve a treat. Let’s meet up, the three of us, have some dinner, drink some champagne … then we can put Minnie to bed next door and see about making her a little sibling.’ His voice is as seductive and teasing as I’ve ever heard it. ‘What do you think? I’ve ordered the champagne already.’
I cannot believe what I’m hearing. Any other time, I would die and go to heaven to hear this invitation. Any other bloody time.
‘Right,’ I say weakly. ‘Well … that sounds wonderful! Just … hang on a minute …’
I clamp my hand over the phone and look desperately round at everybody.
‘He wants me to come to a hotel room and drink champagne! For his birthday!’
‘But it’s the party!’ says Janice, who is clearly out to get the Most Obvious Comment prize.
‘I know it’s the party!’ I say, almost savagely. ‘But how can I say no without looking suspicious?’
‘Do both?’ says Suze. ‘Champagne, celebrate, whatever, whizz back here?’
I think it through frantically.
Champagne. Food. Sex.
We could get it done in … half an hour? Forty minutes max? We’d still be back in good time.
‘Yes.’ I come to a decision. ‘I’ll go up there, play along and bring him back as quickly as I can.’
‘Don’t hang around, love.’ Janice looks anxious.
‘Traffic can get nasty this time of day,’ Martin chips in. ‘I’d grab him and go.’
‘Can I leave Minnie with you, Mum?’
‘Of course, love!’
‘OK.’ I take a deep breath and turn to the phone again, trying to sound as syrupy as possible. ‘Hi Luke. I’ll be there as soon as I can. But without Minnie. Mum’s here and she’s going to babysit. I think we need to be à deux, don’t you?’
‘Even better.’ He gives that growly laugh that I love and my insides clench. Why does he have to choose tonight to turn into the perfect husband?
Anyway. Whatever. I must get going.
‘I’ll see you soon!’ I say breathlessly. ‘Love you!’
Luke’s booked a suite, and as he opens the door he’s holding a glass of champagne. Low, jazzy music is playing and he’s in a robe. A robe.
‘Well, hello there.’ He smiles and bends to kiss me.
Oh God. This is all more extreme than I realized. He’s completely switched gear. His rhythm is slower, his voice is lazier, I haven’t seen him look so relaxed since we were on honeymoon. The suite is amazing, too, with panelled walls and plushy sofas and a massive bed. If this were any other time …
‘Hi!’ I pull away. ‘Well, this is a big surprise!’
‘Total impulse.’ Luke grins. ‘In fact, this is your doing,’ he adds over his shoulder as he heads to the cocktail bar.
‘Mine?’ Is he joking?
‘All the times you’ve told me we should relax more, enjoy ourselves, take it easy … you were right. I hope you’re impressed?’
‘Yes,’ I say shrilly. ‘This is fab.’
‘So let’s just kick back. We’ve got all night.’ He hands me a glass and kisses my neck lingeringly. ‘Shall I run a bath? It’s big enough for two.’
A bath? How long will that take? I have to nix that idea at once. I have to speed things up. I glance at my watch and feel a twinge of alarm. It’s already later than I thought. We have a party to get to. There is no time for a bath.
But then … look at his face. He’ll be crushed. And he’s gone to so much effort and I bet it’s a lovely bath …
We could have a really quick bath. In, out, done.
‘Good idea! I’ll do it!’ I hurry into the sumptuous marble bathroom and whack on the taps.
Oh wow. Asprey toiletries. I can’t help opening the bath oil and smelling it. Mmm.
‘Isn’t this great?’ Luke has come up behind me and wraps his arms around me, firm and strong. ‘Just us, all night long. There’s no rush, no hurry …’
OK, we have not got time for any of this ‘all night long’ business.
‘Luke … um … we have to have quick sex.’ I turn round, thinking desperately. ‘We have to have really, really fast, speedy sex because … I want to conceive a boy.’
‘What?’ Luke looks dumbfounded. As well he might, since I’m making this all up as I go along.
‘Yes.’ I nod seriously. ‘I read a book about it, and it said that you have to have sex really fast. No foreplay. Just … boom.’
‘Boom?’ echoes Luke dubiously.
Why is he looking so reluctant? He should be pleased. I mean, if you knew how many times …
Anyway. Not relevant, right now.
‘Boom,’ I say firmly. ‘So … come on!’
Why isn’t he moving? Why is he crumpling his brow and sitting on the edge of the bath and looking as though some deep problem has occurred to him?