The restaurant smells of baked bread, vanilla and chocolate.

My stomach rumbles.

'I really am hungry now,' I tell Marc, taking his hand.

A blonde waitress greets us at the door.

'Hi. How are you doing today? Let me get you seated. Is by the window okay?'

I can tell she's doing her best not to stare at Marc.

'A little further inside would be better,' says Marc.

'Of course!' says the waitress, her voice suddenly all high pitched. 'Silly me. Of course you don't want to be near the window. I mean ... um ... I suppose there are photographers and-'

'Here will be fine,' says Marc, pointing to a booth.

'Certainly!' the waitress squeaks. 'I'll get you some menus.'

I really feel for her. There was a time I tried to stop myself staring at Marc too. I feel a happy shiver as I realise that now I can look at him any time I want.

'Are you going to tell me about this shopping trip now?' I ask, sliding into the wooden booth.

Marc takes menus from the waitress. 'Patience Mrs Blackwell. Isn't that what the good doctor told you this morning? All good things come to those who wait.'

'You can be infuriating sometimes. You know that, don't you?'

'I aim to please.'

I gaze at the menu.

Scrambled egg with Cornish crab Hazelnut waffles Boiled eggs with parmesan soldiers ...

'This menu looks amazing,' I say. 'I don't know what to choose.'

'Do you want me to order for you?'

'Yes please.' I hand him the menu.

I still get a bit freaked out by fancy restaurants. I don't want to order something and p.r.o.nounce it wrong.

Marc calls the waitress over. 'Mrs Blackwell will have a basket of bread and pastries, a full English breakfast, orange juice and hot chocolate.'

'And for you Mr Blackwell?' The waitress catches herself as she realises she might have been over familiar. 'I mean ... sir.' She gives a limp smile.

Marc throws her his dazzling Hollywood grin.

'Black coffee. And a bacon roll. Plus a loaf of sourdough bread those last two to go.'

The girl practically swoons on the spot. She grips her pen tight. 'I'll be right back with your food.'

'Why the bacon roll and bread?' I ask. 'Are you planning on taking a snack with us when we go shopping?'

Marc smiles. 'They're for Keith. He loves the bacon sandwiches here. And the bread is his wife's favourite.'

'How do you know that?'

'I take Keith here for breakfast regularly. And he took a loaf home last time and told me his wife loved it.'

'You've taken Keith here to eat?'

'Many times. I do feed my staff you know.'

'Not many employers take their staff to restaurants.'

'I'm not like many employers. And Keith isn't like many employees. He deserves the very best for serving me so well over the years.' Marc hesitates. 'He's been very loyal.'

'Keeping your secrets?' I ask, only half joking.

'Yes.'

Something about Marc's tone tells me not to probe any further. At least not right now. But I'm reminded of our wedding day. And his talk with Annabel about family drama.

When the time is right I need to ask about that. We're man and wife now. There should be no secrets.

By the time our food arrives, I really am ravenous. I tear into the bread basket, trying all the different spreads homemade jams, marmalade and hazelnut chocolate spread. Then I dig into my full English breakfast of eggs, fried bread, home fries and maple cured bacon.

Marc sips black coffee and watches me eat.

'I'm glad you're eating,' he tells me, as I pause to take a sip of orange juice. 'Especially if you could be pregnant.'

'Could is the key word in that sentence,' I say. 'And I suppose there isn't any rush. I mean we only just got married. And my acting career is just taking off ...'

'Yes. There's plenty of time.'

Something occurs to me. 'Would it bother you? If we couldn't have kids?'

Marc laughs. 'Sophia, the doctor said you were perfectly fit and healthy. There's no reason to think-'

'I know. I just ... wondered. How you'd feel if we couldn't. Would you mind?'

'I'd mind because you'd be devastated. You were born to be a mother. From my point of view, I have everything I could ever want. Children would be an added bonus.'

'An added bonus?'

'Poor choice of phrasing.'

'I would be devastated if we couldn't have children.'

'I know.'

'And I think you'd be an amazing father.'

'I'm not so sure about that. But this I do know. You'll be an amazing mother. So you can guide me.'

'Me guiding you?'

'You guide me all the time.'

'I do? How?'

Marc smiles. 'Into the light.'

'Oh, so you're all light and shiny now, Mr Marc Blackwell?'

'Not quite. But certainly you've made me better than I ever imagined I could be.'

We gaze at each other for a moment.

'So where are we going after this?' I ask, my voice a little husky.

'Shopping.'

'Yes but where?'

'A short walk from here. Keith will wait for us.'

'What exactly will we be buying?'

Marc smiles. 'You can't guess?'

'No.' I shake my head. 'I can't guess.'

Marc smiles. 'We'll be buying things for our baby.'

'What?'

Marc pays the bill and leads me out of the restaurant.

'Marc? Baby things? That's what we're going shopping for?'

'Correct.'

'Are you sure about this? I don't even know if I'm pregnant yet. Or if I should be pregnant so soon ...'

'A minor detail.'

'But Marc.' I tug at his hand and bring him to a stop on the pavement. 'What if the end of the month comes and I'm not pregnant. But we've bought baby clothes.'

'Then you'll be ready for when you are pregnant.' Marc takes my hands. 'Sophia. I don't want you to waste two weeks feeling stressed and anxious, waiting for the next pregnancy test. For now, I want you to act as though you're pregnant. Because then you'll feel happy.'

'I'm not so sure ...'

'When I was younger, I went to a lot of auditions. Hundreds. And many I failed. I certainly failed more than I won. But I taught myself to believe the best. That the next role was just around the corner. I learned not to waste time being disappointed. It got me nowhere.'

'But you're an amazing actor,' I say. 'You were always going to win roles.'

Marc shakes his head. 'You're wrong. I was good, but I got better with experience. I'd never have got that experience if I hadn't stayed positive.'

'Easy to say when it's something you're in control of. Like acting.'

'I've seen enough brilliant actors get pulled down by the game. Life, more often than not, is more about your drive than your talent. Nature helps. But drive and determination are what takes you to the top.'

'I'm not sure pregnancy works that way,' I tell him. 'I don't think you can be determined to be pregnant and then it just happens. Nature has her own plans. Anyway, is it a good idea to get pregnant so soon? We only just got married?'

Marc raises an eyebrow. 'Who are you fooling? Not me.'

'Fooling?'

'You felt disappointed when the pregnancy test was negative.'

'True, but-'

'So you want to be pregnant. If not right now then soon. That's how you truly feel, no matter what your head has to say about it. So if you're not pregnant already, we'll keep trying until you are.'

I feel a grin spread across my face. 'You say all the right things.'

'Happy?'

'Yes. You, Marc Blackwell, are too clever for your own good.'

'I know you well, don't I?'

'Maybe even better than I know myself.'

9.

We leave the limo and walk through London in the spring sunshine.

The city workers wear pastel clothing and gold accessories, while trees hold pink blossom over them.