Read Online To Have and to Hold by Deborah Moggach - Free Book Online

his hands. She gazed at the bumps of his backbone, at his long lean thighs. He could be sobbing or he could be laughing. It unnerved her that she couldn’t guess which.
    â€˜Ollie,’ she said gently. ‘Talk to me. Tell me what you think.’
    He stayed sitting there, his head buried. Finally he looked up. His face had changed; as if it had collapsed and been reassembled.
    â€˜Know something, Viv? I haven’t dared tell you, all these years.’
    â€˜What?’
    He stayed gazing at her. Finally she dropped her eyes. He said: ‘You frighten me.’
    Ken stood on a step-ladder in the hall, fiddling with the fuse box. Ann held up the candle.
    â€˜Blasted bloody thing,’ he muttered. ‘Just one of those days.’
    â€˜Poor Ken.’
    â€˜Screwdriver please.’
    She passed it to him.
    â€˜My godfathers, what a day. First Bob prangs the van, then there’s a gas leak at that place in Willesden. Panic stations. Then – wait for it – but who gets a flat tyre?’
    â€˜Oh no.’
    â€˜Muggins here.’
    The lights came on. She sighed and blew out the candle. How could she talk to him now?
    â€˜Sorry.’ He climbed down from the ladder. ‘Ruined that lovely meal.’
    â€˜It’s not ruined,’ she lied.
    She told him in the darkness, in bed. She prayed into the blackness that he would listen, that he would simply let her finish speaking. She pushed her feet round and round the cooledges of the sheets; the electric blanket was on and she was hot. She thought: how can I think about being hot at a time like this? She thought how in the past she had bargained with God under the sheets, long ago now, and how Ken’s body had moved into hers – oh, how many hundreds of times?
With my body I thee worship
. Under this sheet they had pressed their warm limbs together. Mouth to mouth, life had begun.
    She began.
    â€˜Ken.’
    â€˜Mmm . . .’ He shifted drowsily.
    â€˜Ken, I must talk to you.’
    â€˜Now?’
    â€˜There never seems to be the right moment.’
    He turned over. ‘What is it?’
    â€˜It’s about this baby business.’
    He paused. ‘I’m sorry, Ann. I just can’t do it.’
    â€˜It’s too late anyway. I rang an adoption society.’
    â€˜What? When?’
    â€˜Yesterday,’ she said. ‘The latest age for a woman is thirty-five. That gives us less than a year.’
    â€˜You sure about this?’
    â€˜Yes.’
    â€˜Can’t be. I’ll phone them up.’
    She said, ‘It’s too late.’
    â€˜It can’t be!’
    â€˜You refused anyway.’
    â€˜But . . . oh Annie.’
    â€˜It doesn’t matter,’ she said.
    â€˜It does!’
    â€˜It’s too late, it doesn’t matter.’ She took a breath. ‘At least, it needn’t matter.’
    â€˜What?’
    By now her eyes had become used to the darkness and she could make out his shape beside her. But she kept her gaze on the ceiling. ‘Would it seem like adoption if Viv had the baby for us?’
    She turned to look at him. Beyond his head she could see thegreen numbers pulse on their digital clock. 11.51 changed to 11.52.
    He said: ‘You’re joking.’
    â€˜I’m not. Nor is she.’
    She felt his hand move to her forehead. He stroked her. ‘Annie darling, just get some sleep.’
    â€˜She means it.’
    Suddenly he sat up and switched on the light. She blinked. His face stared down at her.
    â€˜What’s she on about?’
    â€˜She means –’
    â€˜She been up to her tricks?’
    â€˜What?’
    â€˜Putting ideas into your head?’
    â€˜No. She’s thought it out.’
    â€˜Oh yes?’ His voice rose squeakily. ‘Funny sort of thinking. Still, I wouldn’t put anything past her.’
    â€˜Ken –’
    â€˜You’re far too sensible to listen to her.’
    â€˜But