Page 38 of A Very Happy Halloween

“We can put a marquee on the front lawn.”

“Oh, sure, just put a marquee on the lawn. Eis, I don’t have the money for a marquee. Or the time to ring around and hire one, or the energy to decorate it.”

“Bex is back. She can do all that.”

“Doesn’t she have other stuff to do? I’m sure organising a party for a group of schoolchildren isn’t a part of her job description.”

“Her job description is broad, and no, she doesn’t have much to do this month because, in case you haven’t noticed, I’ve been preoccupied with more important things than work. She’s mostly shooting the shit with Edie’s PA and bugging me to get a haircut.”

“A haircut. You realise I’m a hairdresser, yes?”

“So it’s a deal, then? You can cut my hair, and Bex can organise Harry’s party. Except he can’t just invite the ten kids who got left out. He should invite all of them. Plus his friends from Bristol. And Alfie should invite his class too.”

“That’s a hundred and fifty people.”

“Bex will hire security. Chaperones, whatever.”

“We’ll also need costumes.”

Eis glanced behind him. The boys were nowhere in sight, and he gave me a swift, dirty kiss right there in the hallway.

“We will. And yours is going to be a dress.”

Sixteen

Another not-quite-surprise came on Friday. At seven p.m.—half an hour late, as usual—Steven arrived to pick up the boys and congratulated me for finally getting the roofers in. No, that wasn’t the surprise, merely the precursor.

“Thought this place would fall down before you got around to fixing it. I don’t know why you didn’t just buy a flat. There wouldn’t be so much upkeep.”

“Why do you care? You’re not the one paying for it.”

“I hope that sister of yours has a good financial advisor. If she wants a referral, I could probably get her a friends-and-family discount.”

Was he actually serious?

“She’s not your friend, and she won’t be family as soon as you sign those bloody divorce papers.”

“I’ll get around to it. Ready to go, champ?” he called to Alfie.

Nice dodge.

“My solicitor will be in touch again this week. You can’t keep shirking your responsibilities.”

“I’m taking the boys this weekend, aren’t I? And I’m paying for all the petrol to drive them to Bristol and back because you don’t have a car.”

“I have another driving test next week.”

He pursed his lips in that funny way of his, the way that meant he didn’t think I stood a chance in hell of passing.

“Good luck.”

“Arsehole,” I muttered.

“Mum, you’re not supposed to say that.”

Of course Alfie was standing behind me.

Steven herded the boys into his car, and as soon as his taillights disappeared, I called Eis. His BMW pulled into the driveway roughly twenty seconds later.

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