She’d moved the hoglets into her bedroom, but that had disturbed Elvis; so Regan was now curled up under a soft throw on the sofa while Elvis and Charlie slept soundly upstairs. She’d heard of sleeping like a baby, but she wanted to sleep like Charlie. She didn’t begrudge him his sleep – he had another twelve-hour shift ahead of him and she had a day off with the spiky duo – but she could still do with a few hours’ shut eye.
She thought back to her awkward telephone conversation with Bernice. She had struggled to accept Regan’s information that the car in the picture was not the one that had killed her brother. She had gone on to insinuate that Regan was covering for her father, which had been the low point of the conversation. Although Regan didn’t blame her for lashing out. She didn’t like being the one to rub out the only lead they’d had, but she wasn’t going to let an angry mob hunt down her dad when he was innocent.
It had made her see that they should have left the sleuthing to the police; and to an extent, that was what they were going to have to do. After some persuasion, due to the involvement of his alter ego Virginia, her dad had agreed to go to the police and make a statement. Heonly had a snippet of information about the car he’d seen that night, but Regan was very much in the every-little-helps camp.
Despite vowing that she was now leaving it all to the police, she still had one thing niggling away at her. She’d have to investigate it for herself or it would drive her potty. Something her dad had said about the speeding car was ringing bells in her own mind but she couldn’t quite work out why.
Regan saw every hour of the night. She wasn’t proud of how Charlie found her when he came down at seven o’clock. He was startled to see her sitting in the kitchen, huddled over a jar of jam, with her hair displaying crazy scientist qualities.
‘You all right?’ he asked, with a yawn.
‘I’m eating unicorn jam with a soupspoon. What do you think?’
‘Um, not great?’ he ventured, automatically getting out two mugs for coffee.
‘I’ve hardly slept. One of them’s not feeding properly. And they’re not sleeping like they were. I even putPeppa Pigon for them.’
Charlie furrowed his brow. ‘Can they watch that?’
Regan almost lost it. ‘Jeez. It’s notThe Walking Dead, Charlie. I don’t think they’ll have nightmares or turn out to be hoodlum hedgehogs.’
‘I meant because their eyes aren’t open, not because it’s not suitable.’ He was laughing at her. She wished she wasn’t too tired to laugh at herself.
Regan refilled her spoon with sparkly jam. ‘I think one of them is ill. Virginia.’
‘Aww, you named one after your dad,’ said Charlie with a chuckle, and he went to get them from the living roomand put the crate carefully down on the table. He peered inside like a doting father. ‘Is she the one who’s had a manicure?’
‘Yep.’ Regan licked more jam off the spoon. The sugar hit was starting to kick in.
‘She looks okay.’ He was peering closer.
‘She’s not taking all the milk formula. I’ll keep an eye on her.’
‘What shall we call the other one?’ There was a sparkle in his eye and it made her heart melt. ‘Spike?’ he suggested.
‘Too corny. I like Trevor, Alan, Dave, or … this one is a bit controversial – Badger.’ Not that she’d spent half the night mulling over her favourite baby names. She’d had to stop her mind wandering off into the dangerous territory of ‘what-would-Charlie-and-I-call-our-baby’. ‘Badger’ hadn’t appeared on that particular list.
‘Which of those works best with McGee-Corsetti?’ he asked, his face serious.
‘I think you mean Corsetti-McGee. And it’s definitely Trevor.’
‘I agree.’ He beamed a smile over the crate. ‘Trevor and Virginia. I’m a little bit in love.’Yeah, me too, thought Regan.
Regan had taken the day off, but because Charlie was worried that chutney fumes might choke their babies she had decided to get out of the house.
She poked her head around the coffee shop door. ‘Woman needing caffeine,’ she called to Penny, who was wiping down tables.
‘Come in,’ said Penny.
‘Can’t, I’ve got the kids.’ She pulled an apologetic face.There was a massive thud on the glass as Elvis jumped up and began licking the window.
‘It’s just like old times,’ said Penny, watching Elvis. ‘I’ll bring your drinks out.’
Regan managed to manhandle Elvis to a sitting position, but he refused to take his eyes off Penny making drinks inside. Regan took the table nearest to him and settled herself down with the crate.
‘Hi,’ said Cleo, sashaying into view and pulling out a chair. ‘I thought you’d be working the stall today?’
‘I took the day off to get jam orders up straight but I’ve been hijacked by this pair.’ She pointed into the crate and pulled the blanket back slightly.
