‘You near a computer? I sent them to your email.’
Quickly Alex opened his laptop and clicked on his inbox – immediately he was confronted with a grainy shot of Melissa coming out of an anonymous office block. In the background, he could just see part of the sign; it read ‘Clinic’.
‘What’s this?’ Alex frowned. ‘A cosmetic surgeon’s?’ It wouldn’t have surprised him. With the advent of High Definition, every actress in Hollywood over twenty-five was freaking out over every visible line and open pore.
‘Uh-uh,’ said Stone. ‘Try ob-gyn.’
‘An obstetrician?’ Alex said with delight in his voice. ‘That’s the best fucking photograph I think I’ve ever seen.’
Alex took the first flight back to LA. His driver collected him from Santa Monica airport and he went straight to Neil Lane, Melissa’s favourite jeweller’s, picking out a twelve-carat eternity ring that sparkled like the ocean in summertime. Back at their Hollywood Hills home, he rolled his sleeves up and got to work preparing his wife’s favourite meal of cold poached salmon, and gave Ana, their housekeeper, the rest of the day off. By the time he saw Melissa’s Prius turn into the drive, he had already laid a table with starched linen, crystal goblets and candles out by the pool. He had hidden the ring clumsily under a napkin, but the velvet box was peeking out.
‘Hey, stranger.’ She smiled, coming through the door and kissing him on the cheek. ‘What’s going on?’ she asked as he led her out to the table.
‘A surprise welcome home.’
‘Oh now you’ve made me feel guilty,’ she said coquettishly. ‘Sorry I couldn’t have been back earlier, but you know these meetings run on and on. Oh look, Ana’s made my favourite poached salmon salad.’
‘My own handiwork, actually.’ He smiled.
‘My, my. You should go away more often.’
‘So how’s it been without me?’ he asked as they sat down.
‘Wretched, of course,’ she said in a faux British thespian accent. Her next movie was a period piece and she had just started working with a dialogue coach.
‘Oh shit,’ said Alex suddenly. ‘Can you eat salmon?’
‘What? Why not?’ she said.
‘You’re not supposed to eat fish, are you?’ he babbled. ‘Bad for the baby, I think. Or is it just raw fish?’
‘Babies?’ she said with a weak smile.
He leant over and grasped her hand. ‘Sorry, honey, I heard you were at the ob-gyn yesterday,’ he said, hoping she wouldn’t think to ask how he knew what she was doing yesterday. ‘I just put two and two together ...’ He trailed off, seeing the downturn of her mouth, the way she avoided his gaze.
‘You’re not pregnant, are you?’ he said slowly, trying not to let his disappointment show.
‘Yes, I am,’ she said simply.
‘You are? That’s fantastic!’ he cried, picking her up and spinning her around. ‘Was it that night in Rome? That’s so romantic! Maybe we should call him Gino if it’s a boy, what do you think? Too Dexy’s Midnight Runners?’
Too late, Alex realised Melissa wasn’t smiling.
‘Rome was ten weeks ago, Alex,’ she said quietly. ‘I’m five weeks pregnant.’
He felt all the joy fall out of him. ‘Five weeks?’ he said. He didn’t even need to do the arithmetic. ‘Are you sure?’ he asked, feeling his heart beating too fast.
‘It’s not your baby, Alex.’
He could barely breathe. So it was true about Melissa and Justin. ‘But Justin’s gay,’
he said.
‘The baby is Chris’.’
‘Chris? Christopher Hayes?’ he said incredulously.
‘It’s been going on for a while. We didn’t want you to find out like this. We all want to avoid bad publicity . . .’