Free The Other Half by Sarah Rayner

everyone,” interrupted William, “we’ve got an announcement to make.”
    “Ooh, goodie!” Jean clapped her hands. “I love announcements.”
    “We’re having another baby!” Liz beamed.
    Maggie felt a jolt of both pleasure and envy. “Congratulations! When’s it due?”
    “I’m four months.” Liz smoothed down her flowing top to reveal a small bump. “So, just before Christmas.”
    “How wonderful, ” said Jean. She was always far too much in demand to spare time for a child so had never wanted her own. Still, at least she was honest about it, she was invariably happy for others, and Simon didn’t seem to mind.
    “Well,” said Liz, turning to Jamie and Maggie, “when are you two going to have another?”
    “Actually we’re trying now,” said Maggie. Such an intimate revelation was unusual for her, but these were her dearest friends.
    “Oh, how exciting,” said Liz.
    “That’s half the fun, isn’t it, darling?” William kissed his wife.
    “So, Jamie, looking forward to being a father again?”
    “Um,” said Jamie. “All those late nights. Can’t wait.”
    “But it’ll be worth it,” Liz prompted.
    “I suppose so.”
    Maggie glanced at her husband. Was he sounding detached; not as happy at the prospect as she was? She took a sip of wine and galvanized herself. Somehow, being surrounded by her friends gave her the courage to say what she might otherwise have avoided. “I think I’m keener on the idea than Jamie,” she said, hoping he would contradict her. When he didn’t, an awkward silence filled the room. It seemed endless. Maggie was too upset to speak.
    Eventually Simon came to her rescue. “Oh, Jamie, I’m sure you’ll come around when it’s born.”
    “Remember how much pleasure Nathan gave you when he was tiny,” said Jean. “I’ve never seen a father more in love.”
    “True,” admitted Jamie. “I guess I’m a bit fraught at having to deal with it all and a new job. I worry about the money, too. This place cost us an arm and a leg as it is.”
    “Oh, goodness!” cried Jean. “Look at you both! Huge house in the country, both of you working—surely you can afford it. Women in council flats have dozens of children on a tenth of your income.”
    “And they’re pretty miserable,” said Jamie.
    “I’d better get on with the dinner.” Maggie got up, thankful to leave the room.
    “Can I lend a hand?” asked Alex.
    “Yes.”
    In the kitchen Alex held out the tureen while Maggie sloshed in the soup.
    “Don’t worry,” he said. He knew her so well she didn’t have to explain how bruised she was feeling. “You always said Jamie’s lousy at stress. He’ll be all right once he’s settled into his new job.”
    “Yes, of course he will,” Maggie replied quietly, trying to convince herself. But laying bare her soul was not her way. She changed the subject. “Anyway, what do you think of Georgie?”

 
    10
    As Maggie drifted in and out of sleep that night, a faint sadness tinged her dreams. And when she woke fully, the feeling grew heavier, so that a movement to brush away silent tears was her first conscious action of the day. It took a few seconds for her to remember why.
    Jamie.
    The dinner party had been a great success. She was proud of how the food had turned out, and her guests seemed to get on very well. Jean had drunk too much—nothing new there. The relief of not having to be a dynamic editor on a Saturday night meant she had knocked back a couple of glasses too many and had released her tension in a series of outbursts on unrelated subjects, most of which she knew little about, although she had a strong opinion on them all. Finally she’d fallen asleep on the sofa, court shoes off, normally neat bob splayed on the cushions, snoring while everyone else continued chatting around her.
    William had diplomatically dropped the subject of Liz’s pregnancy, using her instead as a foil for amusing tales of their university days with Maggie and