Page 6 of A Manny for Christmas

‘Hi, beautiful,’ I say, withdrawing from the hug and giving her a wink. I tend to flirt lightheartedly with her just to piss my brother off. ‘You’re looking as spectacular as ever. Sorry to barge in like this. And hi there, Rose.’

Babies—or infants, or whatever you call small kids—scare the shit out of me, but even I can appreciate that Rose is an exceedingly pretty baby, with huge hazel eyes and, appropriately enough, a mouth that looks like a little rosebud. She’s gaping at me like the jury’s definitely out on whether I’m a goody or a baddy.

Smart kid.

‘She’s got big since you saw her last, hasn’t she?’ Evelyn coos, bouncing her in her arms.

‘She certainly has. Can she walk?’

‘She’s two,’ Angus says drily. ‘She can walk.’

More footsteps sound on the stairs, this time clattering quickly, and a cheerful, capable-looking young woman greets me and whisks Rose away.

‘They’re going for their morning walk,’ Angus tells me. ‘It’s a slow and meandering process. As-the-crow-flies is not a concept Rose has embraced yet.’

‘Come and get a cup of coffee,’ Evelyn says, ‘and you can tell us to what we owe this pleasure.’

‘Thisunexpectedpleasure,’ my brother adds as we walk across the large open space to the kitchen area. ‘In other words, what the hell are you doing here?’

‘Haven’t you heard of spontaneity?’ I ask him.

‘I did not marry your brother for his spontaneity.’ Evelyn pauses in front of an open cupboard. ‘Tea or coffee?’

I snigger. ‘Fair point. Angus wouldn’t know spontaneity if it bit him in the arse. And I’ll take the strongest coffee you have, please. I took a red-eye from Lilongwe, and I’m fucking shattered.’

‘Someone has to be the sensible one around here,’ he says mildly. He’s a hard man to ruffle. I’ll give him that. ‘So, it was aspontaneousdecision to fly all night? Or did you just miss your brother too much?’

‘I missed having someone to rip the piss out of, if that’s what you mean.’ I dig the heel of my hand into my eye socket and rub. I’m destroyed. And stiff. I could use a massage and a long sleep. ‘I dunno. I was a bit bored. Restless. They’ve got me doing more desk stuff these days, and it’s not my thing. I’d rather be out in the field, you know? So I asked them to give me six weeks off. I’ll make a decision after Christmas about whether to go back.’

I’ve been working with WaterAid for nine years, and with other NGOs since long before that. I took off one day with a rucksack and never looked back. It was the best thing I’ve ever done. I’ve been all over Sub-Saharan Africa. Lived all over. But it’s not cutting it anymore, for some reason.

I’m twitchy.

I need a break. A change of scene.

‘What about that woman you were seeing?’ Angus asks. ‘Kat?’

‘Kate. We split up a few months ago.’ I avoid his gaze, instead watching and salivating while steaming hot, liquid caffeine pours out of the Nespresso machine.

‘I didn’t know that.’

‘Now you do.’

‘Who finished it? Her or you?’

‘It was mutual.’

‘Which means she dumped you.’

‘She chose to walk away from what we had because her biological clock started ticking.’ I hold my hands up. ‘And no way was I the man for the job.’

Angus makes a tutting noise that sounds a lot like judgement. ‘Poor woman.’

‘Poor woman? She knew the score. I’ve never not been up front with her.’

‘Fair enough. It’s just… a shame.’

‘Mate. You’ve got yourself a second family, a second round of kids, and I’m thrilled for you, believe me, but you don’t hear me expounding my thoughts on your life choices. So do me the same fucking courtesy and give your views on what I should do with my sperm a rest.’

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