Page 73 of Sleep

“Kids?” they said, looking from one twin to the other.

“Not his,” Jenny filled them in, pushing past Mabel with an armful of large bags and continuing without missing a beat. “You stole my pillows, and apparently complained about them, so I’ve taken the liberty of replacing them. Feedback taken on board. I’m Jenny. You’re Mabel.”

Jenny. Sharp as anything, and Mabel?

“I’m so sorry.”

“God, don’t be. Those pillows were bloody awful, and it was no problem. I nipped into IKEA on the way here and picked up some proper ones. Cheap, fluffy ones constructed by disadvantaged children in the third world, no doubt, but sleep is important here, and I can’t buy feather ones. Jonny’s allergic.”

“Oh.”

“No ice cleam!” The wayward twin was back and standing on my foot. I picked them up, both of them now in my arms, as I watched the conversation from the centre of the room. Yes, it was a circus, and I still wasn’t the ringmaster, but it was a delightful one that made me incredibly happy.

“Mabel. I’ve heard a lot about you—I believe we met once or twice when I was inspecting your restaurant next door.”

“Not actually…mine.” They grimaced.

“Well, that Mark was no use, but you were most helpful. I hope we can work as well together on this new…project.” Jenny winked at Mabel and spared me a glance. “And to confirm, Jonny is not the twins’ father. The sperm donor is something I will tell you about one day, over copious amounts of wine. Deal?”

“Deal,” they said with a smile.

“Which doesn’t mean I don’t expect Jonny to perform his godfatherly duties with gusto and pride. We have the kids’ nursery Nativity play coming up. I expect you both to attend and look like you love it. Enthusiastic cheering throughout. Jonny is not allowed to be on his phone.”

“Fabulous!” Mabel said.

Gosh, this was wonderful. My four favourite people in one room.

“Mabel just had lunch with Mother,” I said, laughing when Jenny grasped Mabel’s arm.

“And you’re still alive?”

“Barely,” Mabel squeaked out. “She’s quite the force.”

“Oh, she’s a witch in public, but I promise you…” Jenny’s voice was barely audible, but practice makes perfect, as they say, and I could lip-read better than she knew. “She’s a total softie. I tried to pay the kids’ nursery fees for next term—turns out she’d made a sizeable donation as well as paid my fees for the next two years. I was so angry I almost rang her. Luckily, I stopped myself and let myself calm down while I came up with a more sensible response.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. The twins sent flowers.”

“Of course they did,” Mabel laughed. “That does sound like the kind of thing she’d do. I enjoyed getting to know her. Too much Champagne, though. Do you prefer I leave you guys to it?”

“God, no,” Jenny said, picking up her coat. “Pillows. Kids. A bag of emergency supplies. They’re in their pyjamas and should pass out within the hour. Last time, Jonny read them the Financial Times before bed. Apparently did the trick.”

“I’m sure it did.”

I really didn’t mind that they were chatting as if I wasn’t here, but the twins were getting heavy. Jenny came over, kissed them both on the head and then kissed my cheek.

“Be good,” she whispered. Then, squeezing Mabel’s arm affectionately as she passed by, she left.

“She needs some time to herself,” I explained nervously, trying to balance the kids walking as Jenny closed the door behind her. “It’s only her, and the kids take everything out of her. She’s going to the theatre.”

“Sounds wonderful.” They met me across the floor, like we were dancing a carefully choreographed minuet.

“We should go sometime. Jenny will get us tickets. Do you like the theatre?”

“Who doesn’t?” Mabel smiled, slipping their coat off their shoulders. “So we’re parents for the evening?”

“Yes.” I liked how they’d taken all this with ease, not even batting an eyelid at my imminent strangulation. “Jenny said to put those pillows back on the guest bed. She bought…well, I have no idea what she bought.”

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