‘Has Maurice been here a long time?’
‘A couple of months. He’s got a lovely nature but very few people want the middle-aged ones. Is your property rented or owned?’
‘It’s owned. Where did he come from?’
The volunteer stopped filling in the form and looked at Anna. ‘It’s a bit sad really. His owner had a fall and had to go into a nursing home and they couldn’t find anyone to take Maurice so he came here. He’s struggled to settle into life at the centre. He’s been used to the same lap to sit on for nine years and a garden to wander around in, so it’s a bit of a shock for him. That’s why he doesn’t interact much.’ She sighed. Back to the form: ‘Any other pets?’
‘Err, no. Poor thing, he seemed quite friendly.’
‘Did he? You should be honoured. He ignores most of us.’ She scribbled her initials at the bottom of the piece of paper. ‘Right, we’ll pop over one evening and do your home check, and then you’ll be able to come and collect your kitten. Which one was it?’
‘It was … um …’ Anna had to think hard as both the kittens she’d liked had slipped from her mind and all that was there was a picture of Maurice. ‘Actually, could I have another look at them please?’
Sophie kissed Arlo’s forehead and smoothed his hair to one side. It was wayward like his father’s. ‘Night, sweetie. Straight to sleep now.’
‘I don’t see why I should when Petal is still up,’ said Arlo, folding his arms indignantly over his Star Wars pyjamas. ‘She’s younger than me!’
Tiredness had claimed most of Sophie’s body and it felt like she was sinking. Sophie sighed and adjusted the grumpy jiggling mass on her hip that was Petal. She’d forgotten how tired she got when she was pregnant. It went beyond the usual levels of yawning and looking forward to bedtime and was more a sensation closer to lapsing unconscious.
‘Sweetie, Petal’s going to bed now too. Night, night.’
‘But it’s not fair!’ he said, his bottom lip starting to quiver.
‘Sweetie, please, Mummy is tired. Please go to sleep.’
‘Everyone in my class stays up late. Why can’t I?’
I can’t have this conversation now, thought Sophie as Petal’s wriggling increased and was now accompanied by whining.
‘We’ll talk about it tomorrow. Night, night.’ She switched the light out and shut the door.
‘I don’t like the dark!’ shouted Arlo. Sophie closed her eyes, and tears tumbled silently down her cheeks. The clunk of the key in the lock announced that Dave was home.
‘Hiya,’ he called into the hall. Sophie briskly wiped away the tears, sniffed and headed downstairs.
‘Hello, gorgeous,’ said Dave to Petal who reached out for him. ‘You should be in bed by now – it’s late.’
‘Give over, Dave. I’ve not stopped all day so please don’t walk in and start criticising my parenting.’
‘Hey, it wasn’t a criticism. Tell me what you want me to do and I’ll do it for you.’
Sophie huffed. ‘But that’s the thing, you’re not doing it for me. These are your children too!’
‘Blimey, who’s upset you today?’ He headed upstairs with a happily dribbling Petal.
‘You,’ said Sophie, but he was out of earshot. ‘It’s always you.’
When Dave came back downstairs Sophie was plonking dinner on the table.
‘This looks great. I think I’ll have a glass of Merlot with it,’ said Dave, diverting to the wine rack. Sophie glared at him. She needed a glass of red wine far more than he did but she wasn’t allowed one – pregnancy was so unfair.
Dave merrily loaded his fork with spaghetti bolognaise and took a large swig of wine as he read an email on his phone. Sophie sipped her glass of water and stared at him. He’d hardly said anything since they’d sat down to eat aside from imparting that the irritating dry skin patch had returned to his elbow.
‘Dave, I want to go on holiday.’
‘Hmm.’ He eventually pulled his eyes away from his phone. ‘Maybe next year.’
‘Next year we’ll have three kids to contend with. That’s no holiday, plus it’ll cost more.’
That seemed to grab his attention. Dave loved to save money. ‘I guess we could take Arlo out of school, which would make it a lot cheaper. It’s a right rip-off that the travel companies hoik up the prices because of the school holidays.’ He shook his head.
‘Okay, great.’ This was a lot easier than she’d anticipated. Of late Dave seemed to be displaying many Scrooge-like qualities so this was a pleasant change. ‘I’m thinking somewhere in the Caribbean. Nothing too touristy but somewhere like Anguilla might be nice.’
‘We can’t afford … where was it again?’
‘Anguilla. Beyoncé and Richard Gere holiday there.’
‘Together?’ asked Dave, through a mouthful of spaghetti.
‘Don’t be daft. Or Bora Bora, that looked amazing on Keeping Up With The Kardashians.’
‘Sophe. That sort of holiday costs thousands and the kids would be a nightmare on the plane. How about a few days at Butlins?’
‘Butlins?’ Sophie almost shouted.
‘What’s wrong with Butlins? The kids would love it.’
Sophie was shaking her head. ‘Plugging hell, Dave. I don’t work my bum off to have a few crabby days in Butlins. I thought it might be nice to have some time just the four of us before the new baby arrives. Have a proper family holiday.’
‘I had proper family holidays at Butlins as a kid and loved it.’
‘Your mum went to Butlins?’ Sophie found this hard to believe as her mother-in-law, Karen, was the stuck-up sort. She was also a force to be reckoned with, which had earned her the nickname the Kraken – though it was mainly Sophie who called her that.
‘No, our grandparents took us. But we had the best time. I think it’d be great. We could do a weekend and see what we think?’
‘I am not going to fuzzing Butlins.’ Sophie went to pick up her glass but realising it contained water she slapped her hand on the table, making them both jump.
Dave’s mouth drooped at both edges. ‘Sophe, do you remember the conversation we had when we bought this place?’ Sophie gave a twitch of her head and tried hard not to pout. ‘We agreed this was our forever home but to be able to afford it we had to give up all the other stuff for a while, including big holidays.’
At the time Sophie would have agreed to anything. She’d fallen in love with the house and Wildflower Park, and she knew she had to have it. Even if it had meant selling a kidney, she would still have given it serious consideration.
‘And you’ll get a break when you’re on maternity leave,’ he said, spearing his dinner with his fork. Sophie had to stop herself from spearing him with hers.
Sophie was deep in conversation with Roberta’s PA, Priya, when Anna emerged from the stairwell soaked to the skin and thoroughly fed up that her bus had been late and she’d got caught in a torrential April shower. She scanned their area but all the best desks were occupied.
‘Where can I sit?’ asked Anna, trying to avoid looking at the dark