‘Well, in that case…’ I crouch down to Marsha. ‘Let’s make Mummy happy. How about we do the presents then I’ll chat to Mum a bit whilst you watch any movie you want and then we’ll have fun. What do you think?’
‘Okay.’ She gives me her cutest look.
‘Go and get Belle her present first,’ Luisa says to her daughter who flashes a grin and turns to run from the room. Luisa pulls open the fridge door and takes a glug of wine from the bottle.
‘Nice.’
‘Seriously. It’s medicine.’
‘It looks like it’s medicine that should be shared.’ I grab a glass for myself and another for her from the cupboard. ‘Fill, then we’ll chill and do twixmas stuff.’
‘Twixmas stuff like lying on the sofa drinking and binge-watching TV?’
‘Oh yes, baby, that is how we are spending today.’
‘Oh my God, can we? Can we really?’
‘Yep!’
Remi wanders into the kitchen and heads towards the coffee machine. ‘Hi, Belle, how’s tricks?’
‘All good. Are you mad busy today?’
‘Nope.’ He slips his arm around Luisa’s waist and pulls her towards him.
‘Excellent, then you are on Marsha duty whilst wifey and I have the day off to talk all things gal.’
‘Yes.’ Luisa smiles. ‘We’ll be curled up in the living room, drinking and watching romcoms and action movies, maybe talking about willies.’
‘Nice.’ Remi says. ‘Mine’s huge, by the way. Like a tree trunk.’
‘It is.’ Luisa nods and I faux gag.
‘Seriously, me and Marsh will have the best day, won’t we?’ he continues, addressing his daughter who has come bowling back into the room.
‘I’m having fun with Belle today.’
‘Have fun with your dad instead? We could go try out the ice rink at Cribbs?’ Remi counters.
Marsha looks conflicted.
‘Hey, you go with your dad today, and I’ll come back another time and make sure we have a me and you day then. What do you think?’
‘Two fun days, yay!’ She jumps up and high-fives me and then hands me a scrabbled together wrapped present that looks as if she has used an entire roll of Sellotape to wrap it. ‘Look, I’ve got you your present. You’re going to love it.’ I do love it immediately. I can picture her, tongue out the corner of her mouth, as she wrapped this.
‘I don’t want to cut it.’
‘I think you’re going to have to,’ Luisa says, fishing a large pair of scissors from a drawer.
‘Yes, don’t be silly, Belle. You can cut the paper. It’s a salt-dough snowman and Mummy says you’re very fond of them.’
‘Oh I, am,’ I say, willing myself not to look at Luisa, whose smirk I can see out of the corner of my eye.
‘Well, I knew that, cos we make them every year,’ Marsha replies. ‘So here is one just for you.’
‘Brilliant.’ I cut through the masses of tape, far from easy, and unwrap myself the most perfectly imperfect salt-dough snowman I have ever seen, with an adorable lopsided grin.
‘So, spill!’ says Luisa who, after giving me another present – Tudor style pottery, God love her! – has made us both get into pyjamas to make sure we maintain the correct mood for the afternoon. And then she insists we do a couple of Jägerbombs, to take us back to our student days and get fully into twixmas. ‘I haven’t seen you since the party and I know you have news. I want to know what happened down the end of our garden.’ She nods in the direction of her hut. ‘And what’s happening with Jamal? I thought he had binned you?’
