If I had their kind of money, imagine the life I could have? The good work I could do, the people I could help.
I was brought up to always be grateful, to appreciate the little things. I’d been blessed with wonderful parents. Love. Support. Guidance. All in abundance. Full marks. But all that attentivenesshad also made me feel a certain pressure that Haze and Fox, with their terrible parents, had never experienced.
Haze and Fox were trying to lead good livesdespitetheir parents. I had to lead a good lifebecauseof mine. I didn’t want to let them down. I couldn’t. Not after everything they’d done for me. Making them proud was the very least I could do. Even at my absolute lowest points, they’d never made me feel any less for the literal car crash of my life. Instead, they’d loved me extra hard. Come round even more. Done even more. There was never any tut-tutting, never any judgment. I needed to reward them for this by being everything they had wanted for me and more. Seeing me happy made them happy.
Sometimes, it felt too much. Smiling despite the cracks. Always being the one everyone else could rely on. Trying to be a good mother, a good daughter, a good friend, a good worker bee. Sometimes I wanted to blow it all up. Let loose.
But of course, I’m not that type. I’m good old dependable Jenny. The back-office pigeon. Flying high in their tailwind.
Chapter Forty-Eight
Haze
I woke up with astart. The bedside clock said 3:11 a.m. No sound of a baby crying. No sound of anything. Had I woken up because it was too quiet? Jesus, was I ever destined to sleep properly again?
And then I heard it. A thump. From downstairs.
I shook Fox’s shoulder. “I think there’s someone down there.”
“What? No? What?” Fox’s head remained on the pillow. “Shhh.”
I hit him on the arm. “I’ll go check it out. You stay with the kids.”
“S’nothing. Sleep.”
I turned the light on as Fox groaned.
The light flickered as another thump came from downstairs. Now Fox sat up.
“See?!”
“I’ll go.” He pulled a knife out from under the mattress.
“What the fuck?”
“It helps me sleep.”
“What about Bibi?”
“She’s never going to go hunting under the mattress, and she knows that sharp knives hurt her, and—”
“I just think it’s really irresponsible, we really—”
Another thump from downstairs.
“Not now.” Fox stalked out of our bedroom, dressed only in his boxers, knife in hand. I pulled on a dressing gown and went to check on Reggie. He was fast asleep, arms out over his head. If this intruder woke him up, I would absolutely fucking kill him.
I went to Bibi’s room. She was also zonked out. The penguins from her nightlight were dancing around the room.
“Haze!” Fox was hush-shouting me.
I peered over the top of the banisters. “What?”
“You need to come down here.” He was just out of sight, standing at the top of the stairs to the garage.
“I shouldn’t leave the kids,” I hush-shouted back.
“You can. I’ve checked everywhere. But you need to come here.”
