‘In the washing machine?’ She gasped, that could have ended very differently.
‘He was inside my football, the one with the hole in it. He’d eaten the hole bigger and was having a nap inside it!’
‘D’you know, I don’t blame him. That sounds so snuggly. I think I’d quite like to have a nap inside a football.’
‘I’m going to go and check on him!’ She watched his little feet clamber over her and head up the stairs.
‘Washing machine?’ Midge pulled a face.
‘I thought you were drawing the round door.’ She stood and leaned against him, gratefully receiving the kisses he dotted on her lips.
‘Remind me not to pair up with you for charades next time we play.’
‘Ha!’ Slipping her arms around his waist, she let the day catch up with and wash over her. She yawned.
‘How was work?’ He spoke into her hair.
‘Same old. Graham was on form, as per. Tyler was very shouty, and in my head, I can still hear the beep, and I’m saying, “Thank you for calling Castle Care. You are through to Remy. How can I help you today?”’
‘I’ve got something you can help me with.’ He squeezed her tight.
‘Oh yeah, what’s that?’ She looked up at him.
‘The spuds, you did say.’
‘On it.’
Reluctantly she let go and, with fatigue firing arrows of ache into her heels and spine, she headed to the kitchen. It appeared she had stumbled into the aftermath of a very rowdy party or police raid. Harper’s school bag had been upended on the floor; its pink-and-pastel contents made it look like a Care Bear had thrown up. The sink was still full of breakfast things, topped with drinking glasses and sticky plates. The cutlery drawer was open. The dishwasher flashed to indicate it had finished its cycle. The butter, lidless on the countertop with a knife still sticking out from it, looked like it had been murdered, the weapon of choice abandoned. The peanut butter jar was a mess, with great gobs of the stuff snaking down the glass and on to the breadboard. The floor carried the faint dusting of biscuit crumbs, and empty crisppackets (salt and vinegar flavoured) had been deposited near the bin, next to the bin, but not in the bin.
‘Flippin’ ’eck!’ She rubbed her face and reached into the freezer for oven chips, suddenly losing the energy and inclination for any form of spud that required more effort.
‘I was just having a tidy.’
‘Well, I would have hated to have seen it before you tidied!’
‘They’re like animals, Ren. They come in and tear through the kitchen in seconds, looking for the chocolate stash, which they failed to find, and this is the result. I find it overwhelming. It feels easier to just stand back and wait till they’ve retreated before I do a thing. It’s like coming back to camp and discovering bears have found your picnic. Far better to let them finish than confront them – safer. I honestly don’t think they’re children; I think they’re part locust, part wolf. I’m actually scared of them when they’re hungry, and I’ve served with the Royal Marines! I’ve faced hostile territories! I got a flipping medal for bravery!’
‘I know, my love, I know.’ She closed her eyes and smiled in his direction, bless him. ‘I’m here now.’
Truth was, despite her tiredness, she couldn’t care less about her home being pristine, understanding it was just that, ahome.
He slumped down into a chair at the table, as if it were all a bit too much. ‘And just a heads up, Harper asked me if she can get some tampons. I said that was your department.’
‘Thanks. What does she need tampons for? She hasn’t started her periods yet. Or maybe that was her way of telling you that she has.’ Her heart lurched for her daughter. ‘I’d better go and have a word. Stir the casserole and turn the chips in a few minutes.’
‘I think I can manage that. Oh, didn’t manage to get your mum and dad’s tap done, but I told them I’ll get over there tomorrow.’
‘You’re a love.’ She blew him a kiss and climbed the stairs, before knocking twice on Harper’s door, as she had been instructed.
‘Come in!’ Her daughter called over the music.
Remy found her in bed, knees up, leaning against the headboard, entombed by her fleece blanket.
‘Hello, darling. Can we turn it down a bit?’
Harper’s shoulders fell and she rolled her eyes, as if the request was as irritating as it was predictable. Her daughter leaned over and lowered the volume.
‘Ooh, that’s better. Couldn’t hear myself think!’ She sat on the end of her little girl’s bed.
