Amy had noticed that Claudia was wearing a pretty print dress and heels, her long hair, which was usually scraped back into a bun, brushed and loose.
‘Course not,’ she smiled. ‘Are you going anywhere nice?’
‘Just for a drink and something to eat.’ Claudia blushed, and Amy sensed gossip.
‘Ah, a date.’
‘Not really. Well, maybe.’
‘You make me nervous every time you say that. Our beloved Claudia is going to go off and meet someone fabulous and have lots of babies and leave us for ever.’
‘I only met him on Saturday. I wouldn’t be too worried yet.’
‘You deserve someone amazing,’ Amy said, settling a maternal arm across her nanny’s shoulders.
‘Here’s hoping,’ Claudia said, and picked up her handbag.
In the few seconds after the front door had closed behind her, the place was silent except for the quiet rise and fall of Amy’s breath. She went to the fridge and retrieved a bottle of rosé, opened a couple of evenings before and still cold and crisp.
Pouring a large measure into a wine glass, she went and sat on one of the big sofas in the living room, not bothering to turn on a light, enjoying the peace and stillness and the soft grey light that slanted through the glass onto the walnut floor. Even, so, it was hard to settle, hard to ignore the sensation that she should be doing something. The Mode application wasn’t going to write itself, and if it was going to be done in the next two weeks, she’d have to work on it in Provence, which meant sorting out old copies of the magazine to take, and loading her laptop with images and ideas she kept in all sorts of places – in her study, her desktop, in notebooks scattered around the house . . .
‘Hello?’
A voice woke her up. She opened her eyes and peered through the dim light.
‘David? You scared me.’
‘Why are you in the dark?’
‘I must have dozed off. What time is it?’
‘Almost nine thirty.’
She stood up and gave him a lazy kiss on the lips. ‘Hard day?’ she asked.
‘There were lots of odds and ends to tie up. But if working late means I don’t get hassled all holiday, it will be worth it.’ He stroked a curl of hair behind her ear. ‘What about you?’
‘I couldn’t get out of the office quick enough,’ she whispered, kissing the curve of his neck.
‘Why don’t I get this homecoming every night?’ David asked.
‘House guests for a start,’ she said playfully.
‘Has she gone?’
‘She’s out. Claudia’s staying here tonight but she’s gone to meet a friend, and Tilly’s asleep.’
‘Which makes just the two of us . . .’
‘At last,’ she said, undoing his tie. She pulled the length of silk from around his collar, and as it fell to the floor, they started to kiss. His hands came around her back and he unzipped her dress, practised fingers unhooking her bra in one easy movement.
For a moment she was reminded of the days before Tilly, before their big house in Notting Hill, when they had both worked hard and played harder. Between client dinners and corporate networking they had had fun together. Parties, clubs, restaurants, and sex. Lots of it.
Sometimes it was hard to believe that they had once checked into hotels in the City because they’d wanted each other so urgently, or that they had woken up in the night three, four times, just to make love. These days, the only time Amy got up mid-slumber was for a pee, and hotel stays were at family-friendly resorts with kids’ clubs and artificial lagoons rather than rain showers for two and room service that brought you breakfast in bed.
Her dress slid to the floor and David fumbled with his belt. His lips crushed her mouth and she held his face in her hands, hungry to drink him in. Desire had taken her by surprise, but as she closed her eyes and groaned softly, she knew she wanted nothing more than to feel her husband inside her.
‘Now,’ she panted, falling back on the sofa, pushing down the thin lace of her panties and kicking them off onto the floor. David, naked now except for his unbuttoned white shirt, positioned himself on top of her, easing her thighs apart to enter her. She kissed his nipples and pulled him close as their bodies moved in rhythm, slowly at first, then faster and faster until she felt the fire collect in her belly. Sweet, tight longing.