Read Online Cocktails for Three by Madeleine Wickham - Free Book Online Page B

their children would grow up lifelong friends.
    â€œDo sit down,” she said. “Have you . . . lived in the village long?”
    â€œA couple of years,” said Wendy, dumping her hugeholdall on the floor and sitting down on Maggie’s cream sofa.
    â€œAnd . . . do you like living here?”
    â€œS’all right, I suppose. Jake, leave that alone!”
    Maggie looked up and, with a spasm of horror, saw Wendy’s toddler reaching up towards the blue Venetian glass bowl Roxanne had given them as a wedding present.
    â€œOh gosh,” she said, getting to her feet as quickly as her bulk would allow. “I’ll just . . . move that, shall I?” She reached the glass bowl just as Jake’s sticky fingers closed around it. “Thanks,” she said politely to the toddler. “Ahm . . . would you mind . . .” His fingers remained tight around it. “It’s just that . . .”
    â€œJake!” yelled Wendy, and Maggie jumped in fright. “Leave it!” Jake’s face crumpled, but his grip obediently loosened. Quickly, Maggie withdrew the bowl from his grasp and placed it on top of the tallboy.
    â€œThey’re monsters at this age,” said Wendy. Her eyes ran over Maggie’s bump. “When are you due?”
    â€œThree weeks,” said Maggie, sitting back down. “Not long now!”
    â€œYou might be late,” said Wendy.
    â€œYes,” said Maggie after a pause. “I suppose I might.” Wendy gestured to the baby on her lap.
    â€œI was two weeks late with this one. They had to induce me in the end.”
    â€œOh,” said Maggie. “Still—”
    â€œThen he got stuck,” said Wendy. “His heartbeat started to fall and they had to pull him out with forceps.” She looked up and met Maggie’s eye. “Twenty-nine stitches.”
    â€œDear God,” said Maggie. “You’re joking.” Suddenly she thought she might faint. She took a deep breath, gripping the edge of her chair, and forced herself to smile at Wendy. Get off the subject of childbirth, she thought. Anything else at all. “So— do you . . . work at all?”
    â€œNo,” said Wendy, staring at her blankly. “Jake! Get off that!” Maggie turned, to see Jake balancing precariously on the piano stool. He gave his mother a murderous stare and began to bang on the piano keys.
    â€œHere we are!” Paddy came into the room, carrying a tray. “I opened these rather nice almond biscuits, Maggie. Is that all right?”
    â€œAbsolutely,” said Maggie.
    â€œOnly I know what it’s like when you’ve planned all your meals in advance, and then someone else comes and disrupts your store cupboard.” She gave a short little laugh, and Maggie smiled feebly back. She suspected that Paddy’s idea of a store cupboard and her own were somewhat different.
    â€œI’ve got some squash for Jake somewhere,” said Wendy. Her voice suddenly rose. “Jake, pack it in or you won’t get a drink!” She deposited the baby on the floor and reached for her holdall.
    â€œWhat a pet!” said Paddy, looking at the baby wriggling on the floor. “Maggie, why don’t you hold him for a bit?” Maggie stiffened in horror.
    â€œI don’t think—”
    â€œHere you are!” said Paddy, picking the baby up and putting him in Maggie’s awkward arms. “Isn’t he a poppet?”
    Maggie stared down at the baby in her arms, aware that the other two were watching her, and felt a pricklingself-consciousness. What was wrong with her? She felt nothing towards this baby except distaste. It was ugly, it smelt of stale milk and it was dressed in a hideous pastel Babygro. The baby opened his blue eyes and looked at her, and she gazed down, trying to warm to him; trying to act like a mother. He began to squirm and chirrup, and she looked up in alarm.
    â€œHe might need to