“Was it Jude?” I couldn’t help myself. She’d caught him in the fridge last week eating the cream cake she had in there as a treat. He’d been mortified and she’d really shouted at him. Then she’d told Neva, which had been hilarious.
“I fink so.”
I heard her sigh.
“Can I have some milk?”
This was good. This meant she’d have some milk and then go to bed – her own bed – because I didn’t fancy having her in here all night while it was hotter than Hades.
“I’ll get you some. Shall I bring it to your bedroom? Or do you want to come with me and check the fridge for monsters?”
“If you’re going downstairs, can you bring me some milk as well?” Amber sounded sleepy now. “And some cold water.”
“Daddy, can I have some cold water too?”
I wondered if my career had changed from footballer to waiter. “You can. But get in your own bed, please.”
“Can I not sleep with you?”
I knew that Amber was probably going to say yes. She found it very difficult to not give in to Zara, mainly because she was such a sunshiny little pixie who was always happy and even-tempered. However, I did not want to wake up with one of her feet in my face, which was what would inevitably happen.
“No. It’s too hot and Amber needs too much room already. Plus, big girls sleep in their own beds.” This was how I won most battles with her right now, and I was making the most of it before it lost its effect. “Let’s go and check Jude isn’t in the fridge again.”
He actually had been eating the cake straight out of the fridge, knowing full well Neva was about and she’d tear a strip off him if she caught him.
Zara followed me downstairs, chattering on about her dream and then about Amber’s belly, holding my hand as we walked through the entrance hall into the kitchen.
The light should’ve been off: I’d already turned everything off when I’d come to bed, except for the lamps that were on timers, one dim one that stayed on all night. I knew it wasn’t someone breaking in – why would a burglar switch lights on? – but it could be my sister with a hook up, not that she’d done that since she’d been living here.
“Hang on here a second, Zara.”
“Are you checking for monsters, Daddy?” She sounded excited rather than scared.
“No, just your aunt, which is kind of similar.” I peered through the door, hoping not to see my sister in a compromising position.
“I heard that!” Jez’s voice was not low. In fact, it sounded too loud for her to be sober.
I beckoned Zara in. “I thought you were on chauffeur duty for Jesse?”
“She was.” Jesse’s voice made me startle.
He was standing near the fridge, a bottle of beer in his hand. Jez was sitting at the kitchen island, a glass of wine next to her.
“I had a drink so left the car. We grabbed a taxi back here.” She didn’t sound drunk, but I knew my sister wouldn’t drive even after half a glass of wine.
One of her friends had been killed in a drink driving accident when Jez was fourteen. Jez’s way to cope was to find out every fact and statistic she could about it and lecture every adult she knew on why they shouldn’t touch a drop before driving. Or in the morning after drinking.
“Decent night out?” I looked from Jesse to Jez.
They glanced at each other and shrugged.
“A little bit of drama,” Jez said. “I said Jesse could use the spare bedroom now Leon’s moved into the annex. Is that okay?”
I shrugged. “Sure.” Jesse had stayed before. The girls knew him well so he wouldn’t be a stranger when they came down in the morning. “What was the drama?”
Jesse shook his head and looked at Zara, who was hovering next to me and listening to everything. “Tell you tomorrow. Let me guess, this one’s after milk?”
Zara nodded, beaming. “Strawberry.”
