'Is that right?' demanded Marc, seizing Joanna's hands.
'Yes,' she said faintly.
'Louder, please.'
'Yes, yes, yes!''
Marc caught Joanna in his arms and kissed her soundly, then shook her very gently. 'Why?'
She shrugged. 'Because I need a father for this baby of ours, why else? And because I love you,'
she added casually, her smile suddenly radiant as he crushed her close, oblivious of George.
Suddenly the door burst open and in came three small people waving pieces of paper.
'Which one is the best, Marco?' Polly demanded. She turned to the twins in triumph. 'He's my uncle—he'll say mine is best!'
Six months later, on a hot afternoon in July, a familiar black BMW roared through the village of Swancote and took the turn into the drive of Swan House at reckless speed, spurting gravel in all directions. Marc Anstey took a flying leap from the car and burst into the house, taking the stairs two at a time to reach the bedroom. A nurse rose from beside the bed, startled, as the tall, dishevelled man gathered her patient into his arms and kissed her with a passion the nurse obviously felt out of place in a room where only a short time before the lady in question had been delivered of a child. Nurse Roberts was only slightly mollified when the harassed father turned to her urgently afterwards, demanding assurances on the health of his wife.
'This is my husband,' said Joanna unnecessarily.
'How do you do, Mr Anstey?' said the nurse, turning away to the cradle. 'You need have no fears about your wife. She did beautifully. Would you like to hold the baby?'
Marc received the small bundle into his arms with delight. He settled himself on the bed beside Joanna, one arm around her shoulders, the other holding the baby with an expertise which deeply impressed his wife.
'What a clever girl your mother is,' he said to the small, sleeping face.
'Not so clever,' said Joanna as the nurse left them alone together. 'I was up at dawn this morning, so determined to finish a chapter of the new book I ignored certain early warnings from young Anstey here. By the time I contacted Roger Morley he wouldn't let me risk the journey to Swanford General. He managed to get hold of Nurse Roberts, and we managed the whole thing here between us.'
'How about Polly?' asked Marc eventually, when he could bring himself to stop kissing Joanna by way of fervent appreciation.
'I got her off with Mary without letting on what was happening. Mary came straight back here after taking the children to school, needless to say.' Joanna grinned. 'She said someone had to keep boiling kettles, the way they do in films. Heaven knows what she did with all the hot water—made tea, probably. She's giving Polly supper with the twins before bringing her home, but promised to keep the secret. Polly will be thrilled to bits. She thought she had to wait another week before this little bundle arrived.'
'So did I!' Marc's arm tightened as he bent to kiss her again. 'I nearly went into orbit when Mary rang the office. It was a piece of hard news I wasn't prepared for, believe me.' He removed his arm from Joanna's shoulder to settle the baby more comfortably. 'By the way, how do I address this little personage? When I spoke to you last you were still dithering about a name.'
Joanna smiled at him smugly. 'I thought Richard. My father would be pleased.'
Marc stared at her blankly. 'But that's a boy's name.'
'Well done, Mr Hotshot Journalist! Of course it's a boy's name. We've got a son, darling.' Joanna began to laugh as Marc began unwrapping the little bundle to see for himself.
'So we have!' he said in wonder, then handed the baby to Joanna to put back together again, a process young Richard Anstey objected to in a way which brought the nurse running.
'Try him on the breast, Mrs Anstey,' she instructed, giving Marc a look intended to send him packing.
Marc Anstey, used to confronting far more difficult personalities than Nurse Roberts, settled himself firmly alongside Joanna on the bed again, shocking the poor woman to the core by helping his son find the source of nourishment he was yelling for, whereupon Nurse Roberts retired from the room, routed.
'You've upset her,' observed Joanna, gazing down at the small face at her breast.
'Too bad,' said Marc, unrepentant as he gazed at his wife and son. 'She may as well get used to having me around ‑' He frowned. 'How long is she staying?'
'Only for a day or two. She can sleep in the spare room.'
But Marc was no longer interested in the nurse. 'You know it's a funny thing, darling, I was completely convinced we'd have another daughter.'
Joanna smiled tenderly at his slip. 'Since we're already blessed with Polly I think a son is a nice idea. We can have another girl next time.'
Marc gazed at her in awe. 'What a woman! I thought new mothers always said "never again" at this particular juncture.'
'I can understand that, I suppose,' she conceded, thinking about it. 'It's dashed hard work, producing a baby ‑'
'Not for me, it isn't!'
They laughed together, disturbing their son. Joanna transferred him carefully to her other side, pulling a face. 'I'm a bit clumsy about all this, Marc. I hope I get better as I go along.'
'For me you're perfection as you are,' he said matter-of-factly, bringing a glow to her eyes as he bent to lean his cheek against her hair.
Later, when the nurse had wheeled the baby away, Marc smoothed the hair back from Joanna's forehead with a caressing hand. 'Are you tired, my angel?'
'A bit, but so happy.' She smiled. 'I think I'll have a little snooze before Polly comes.'
'While I shall take a bath and have a long, celebratory glass of something.' Marc stretched as he stood up, shaking his head. 'A son! Can you believe, darling, that I had no idea until now that I quite fancied one? Not that a daughter wouldn't have been just as welcome ‑'
'But having Polly had already taken care of that.' Joanna stretched, wincing a little. 'It's perfectly natural. We're lucky, we've got one of each—who knows? One day we might have two of each.'
He laughed. 'I applaud your enthusiasm!' He paused, looking down at her. 'I'm a lucky man. You were so right, Joanna. Giving Polly to you really was the perfect solution.'
She smiled. 'Not quite. What we have now is perfect in Polly's eyes; she's got her wish about a family just like the Lavenhams.'
'Ah, but she's one up on the twins now. She's got a baby brother as well—cousin really,' he added, chuckling.
Joanna shook her head. 'No fear. Polly's as much our child as the scrap who arrived today, Marc. Rosa gave her to us.'
'And gave you into my hands in the process,' he said, kissing her. 'Once I accidentally hit on the one sure way to get you to marry me, that is.'
'Clever devil!' Joanna smiled drowsily. 'Not, I hasten to add, that I'm sorry you did. After six months of connubial bliss, husband dear, I realise that marriage—for you and me, anyway—was the most perfect solution of all.'
The Perfect Solution Page 15