Come Back to Me by Sara Foster Page A

thought grumpily, he’d had a lie in, while it felt like she’d been up shopping since dawn. She’d managed to abstain from alcohol over dinner by saying she was driving. Normally she would still have had a glass, but she’d said she was tired so didn’t dare indulge, and everyone had accepted that.
    â€˜So, Chloe –’ Chloe snapped out of her daydreaming as she heard her name – ‘getting clucky yet?’
    Damn you, June, Chloe thought, noticing that her mother was watching intently. She glared at her, wondering if Margaret had been unable to keep her mouth shut for even half a day, but the woman gave an almost imperceptibly small shake of her head in reply.
    â€˜A little …’ she said hesitantly.
    Alex came to life immediately. ‘Are you?’ He leaned forward, leather chair creaking as he did so. ‘That’s news to me.’
    â€˜Happens to us all, Alex, sooner or later,’ Margaret chipped in breezily.
    â€˜Well, maybe, but we’re not ready for that yet, are we, Chloe?’
    â€˜Aren’t we?’ Chloe, stunned, looked at Alex.
    â€˜Well, no. I need to establish my business more – and you’ve got stuff you want to do in the practice – there’s no need to rush it.’
    â€˜I suppose –’
    Margaret cut in. ‘But there’s never a perfect time, Alex. Remember that.’
    â€˜I know.’ Alex sounded irritated. ‘But Chlo and I need to feel solid and secure in our lives before we complicate everything with a kid. I’m just not interested at the moment.’
    Margaret, her jaw slack, looked at Chloe. And Chloe, horrifyingly, felt tears spring to her eyes. She stared down at her tepid mug of tea. ‘Well, then,’ she said, fighting her tears and the hot blush she could feel staining her cheeks.
    When she glanced up, Alex was watching her in surprise, and she was sure he’d guessed. There had been an awkward silence for a number of excruciating seconds now, and he opened his mouth to fill it just as June said, ‘Well, poor Jeanna can’t have any children. It breaks my heart that our son won’t ever be a father.’
    â€˜June!’ George scolded crossly. ‘It’s actually none of our business, and besides, our girls have produced enough between them to keep a primary school from going under.’
    Alex’s attention was still on Chloe, but he didn’t seem shocked now so much as intrigued. Maybe he hadn’t guessed at all.
    Chloe avoided meeting his gaze, then sat back and closed her eyes. June was still talking about how Jeanna and Michael were planning to travel for six months next year, now that they’d come to terms with the news. Lucky old Jeanna, Chloe thought to herself, then immediately rubbed her tummy superstitiously and said silently, I didn’t mean it, baby. I didn’t mean it.

13
    Mark arrived at the house in a foul mood. An hour’s journey on a winter’s night had taken him more than twice as long as it should have done. Had he not felt so tired, he would have been furious and vowing to write to somebody important over this disgrace of a transport system. Leaves on the line, snow on the line – even bloody bodies on the line, according to one whispered remark behind him. There was something utterly repulsive about the mindset of a commuter, that now, every time he heard of a body on the line his only thought was, ‘Well, get it off the bloody line, then, and let’s be on our way.’
    In actual fact a train had broken down ahead of the one Mark was on, so he had to get off and board a bus between Orpington and Sevenoaks. At that point he’d tried to call his parents to collect him rather than suffer the indignity of bus travel with a plague of hyperactive adolescents, theboys’ low-slung waistbands beginning on roughly the same portion of their bodies as the girls’ tiny skirts ended. However,