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I just—’

      ‘And I’m actually with someone right now,’ she adds firmly. ‘I’m busy, Rob.’

      ‘Oh.’ There’s a baffled silence, as if he fully expects her to spend these long, child-free weekends gawping bleakly at daytime TV, or perhaps chipping limescale off the toilet bowl. Across the table, Brigid is sniggering silently.

      ‘So it’s not the best time for me,’ Kerry adds, barely stifling a laugh.

      ‘I’m really sorry,’ Rob blusters. ‘You should have said.’

      ‘Well, I’m saying now.’

      ‘Right. Okay. See-you-tomorrow-about-fourish,’ he barks before ringing off, at which Kerry and Brigid dissolve into laughter.

      ‘He thinks you’re in bed,’ Brigid hisses.

      ‘Good.’

      ‘And now he’s torturing himself, imagining you naked with some hot man.’

      Kerry snorts, wishing now that she’d fully exploited the moment, perhaps by murmuring, Hang on, darling, just let me get my ex off the phone … ‘When actually,’ she adds, ‘I’m just caressing a sexy little brownie.’

      ‘It is sexy,’ Brigid agrees. ‘Look at it, giving you come-hither looks from its plate.’

      ‘Mmmm, I love it.’ Kerry strokes it suggestively before taking a nibble. ‘God, you’re such a foxy little brownie.’ She emits a dreamy mmmmm sound.

      ‘Glad you like it, Kerry.’ James has marched into the shop, brandishing a large cardboard box. He nods in recognition to Brigid and breaks into a grin.

      ‘Hi, James …’ Kerry feels her cheeks flaming.

      ‘I bake them myself, you know.’

      ‘Do you? This is your place, is it?’

      ‘Well, Luke’s officially.’ James indicates his son behind the counter, then glances towards the dogs sitting outside. ‘Looks like you’re making good progress with Buddy. He’d never have sat waiting patiently for me like that. Would have made a complete spectacle of himself by now …’

      She frowns. ‘Don’t you think he looks abandoned, though?’

      James goes behind the counter and starts slicing ham. ‘He has a needy face. That’s just his look, isn’t it, Luke?’

      ‘Yeah,’ Luke laughs, and Kerry can see the striking father-son resemblance: same soft grey eyes and angular jawlines. A sprawling family has burst into the shop, and she marvels at the extensive list of exotic sandwiches they’re asking James and Luke to prepare. Mia’s party is still some weeks off but, as well as requesting a bought cake, her daughter has already decreed that ‘we will not be having sandwiches’.

      ‘Oh, I booked clown man for the party,’ Kerry tells Brigid.

      ‘Great, that should take the pressure off. Is he single by any chance?’

      ‘God.’ She bursts out laughing. ‘I have no idea. I thought you were dating salad man anyway.’

      ‘Absolutely not,’ Brigid snorts.

      ‘And, er … clowns do it for you, do they?’

      ‘Um … possibly,’ she says, unfathomably. They get up to leave the shop, and Brigid is already untying Buddy’s lead outside when James emerges from behind the counter.

      ‘Erm, Kerry,’ he says as Luke banters with the customers, ‘I wondered if you’d like to meet up sometime? I kind of feel I was never really clear about Buddy, never explained things properly. It’s great to see him looking so happy’ – she glances out and sees that he’s still wearing his orphan face – ‘and I’d like to say thanks.’

      ‘Oh.’ She smiles, registering something she hadn’t noticed about him until now: a pleasing grown-up-ness – not in a Rob way, not the poncey grown-up-ness of Mr Jones magazine, but someone sweet, kind and infinitely capable. ‘I’d really like that,’ she says.

      ‘So … can I call you?’

      ‘Sure, of course,’ she says, then strides out to join Brigid, murmuring, ‘My God, it looks like I’ve got a date.’

      ‘He asked you out?’

      ‘Er … well, sort of. Yes, he did.’

      Brigid grins approvingly. ‘Told you dogs were useful for all sorts of things.’

      Chapter Thirty-Four

      The mood has lifted at Rob’s parents’ place, not only as a result of Nadine’s departure but also the arrival of his younger brother Domenico, plus Dom’s wife Jessie and their two children. Dom and Jessie are big on banter and laughs, delighting Freddie and Mia with boisterous tickling games on the living room floor, while their sons Ollie and Marcus tear into the remains of Mary’s toffee tart and the cheeses, despite the fact that another gargantuan meal is just around the corner.

      ‘Shame we missed Nadine,’ Dom tells Rob as they find themselves alone in their parents’ kitchen.

      ‘Yeah, she was looking forward to meeting you all.’ Rob starts unloading the dishwasher.

      ‘Er, Mum said she wasn’t feeling well?’ Dom wipes his hands on a dish towel. Only eighteen months younger than Rob, he could easily pass for a disgustingly handsome thirty. Rob sometimes wonders if he’s ageing in reverse, like a bloody better-looking Dorian Gray.

      ‘She was just feeling a bit off-colour,’ he murmurs.

      ‘Um … yeah. I heard about the Brie.’

      Rob sighs, knowing that whatever he says is unlikely to get past his brother’s razor-sharp bullshit detector. And so it all spills out, not only about the suspected Tambini plot to poison her unborn child, but the way he’s stumbled into her life of girlie get-togethers and abominable cooking, as if he’s in a first-night performance of some terrible play, and no one thought to give him a script beforehand.

      ‘Fuck, Rob,’ Dom mutters, raking back his abundant dark hair. ‘I was shocked, you know, when it happened. I’d never realised you and Kerry had problems …’

      ‘Well, we didn’t. That’s the whole point.’

      Dom frowns at him. ‘So why …?’

      ‘I’d rather not go into the ins and outs,’ he blusters, choosing to ignore his brother’s flamboyant eyebrow wiggles. ‘I fucked up, okay?’

      ‘Er … just a bit, Rob.’

      ‘Yeah. Well, it’s happened and I’m not going to walk away from Nadine and the baby. I’m … you might find this really hard to believe, but I’m trying to do the decent thing here.’

      ‘I know you are.’ Dom’s voice softens.

      ‘Anyway,’ Rob says with forced jollity, ‘here I am. One minute, happily married, about to move into a pretty little cottage by the sea. Next thing, living in a flat strewn with fairy lights like Santa’s fucking grotto.’

      ‘So you’re living together now?’

      Rob pauses to extract a carton of orange juice from the fridge and takes a big swig from it, a small gesture that both brothers know drives their mother insane. ‘Kind of half-and-half at the moment, but we’re about to complete on the sale of the house. It seems crazy to rent a flat of my own when she’ll need me there.’ He senses his kid brother studying him, as if he’s an interviewer, not entirely sure that Rob is cut out for the job.

      ‘What’s it like at work, the two of you being in the same office?’

      ‘We sort of … orbit each other.’

      ‘Like

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