Epilogue

It is a truth universally acknowledged that plans irrevocably fixed and firmed will in some way be hopelessly complicated at the last possible moment.

It is also an equally universal truth that unless accuracy is absolutely one hundred percent guaranteed, there is always a chance of error, however small.

Forty-eight hours prior to departure for a six-month stay in San Francisco, a city that was a third of a world away from London – family, friends, and everything familiar – Bridget Darcy (nee Jones) was presented with this startling reminder at the pre-trip checkup.

Bridget blinked. "I'm what?"

The doctor stared at her. "You heard me correctly."

She blinked two more times. "But that's not possible. I took a test…"

Bridget had never been at the top of her game in maths – hence the journalism degree – but surely at some point the notion that a ninety-seven percent accuracy rate also equaled a three percent chance of error should have crossed her mind. Improbable but possible.

"I can guarantee you," said the doctor with a wry smile, eerily reminiscent of a famously irascible literary father, "that my test trumps yours. Congratulations."

For once in her life, Bridget was rendered speechless.

………

Upon her arrival home, Mark's reaction was less than positive at first: he laughed. He thought she was making a joke.

"Not kidding," said Bridget solemnly, wringing her hands, cautiously optimistic about his reaction once he realised there was no jesting involved.

He turned and looked back to her. His expression came close to one that might be seen after a well-delivered punch to the solar plexus.

"But I thought…" he trailed off.

"Yes. So did I."

They stood there for what felt like an eternity in silence. Surely he was thinking how badly this was going to interfere with his chairing the consortium, and she suddenly felt like the most irresponsible fuck-up of a wife ever. But at long last he smiled the broadest smile possible, and her heart flooded with relief.

"Well. Provided you still want to go, it looks like we may have some additional arrangements to make." She nodded enthusiastically; she didn't want him to give it up, and she certainly didn't want to be where he wasn't.

………

However, it was not until months later that the true surprise was to be revealed.

The services of prestigious Eton would not, in fact, be needed.