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“Why do you look like that?” Zora asked. “Is the baby making you sick?”

“No, I’m just thinking about how I’m taking Florence out of nursery. Not just today—all the time.”

“To do what?”

“There’s a Montessori school behind the market, where they take their shoes off and put on slippers to start the day, and call their playing ‘work,’ and they learn to put their own coats on by flipping them off the floor. I thought I’d put her in there.”

“That sounds cool.”

“You’re the cool one, you look so great with your hair like that.”

“Daniel learned to plait by making bread.” Zora studied her. “He told you what I told him, didn’t he? Okay. That’s okay.”

“Sorry.I really am. I made him find out. I was freaking!”

“It’s not your job to freak out about me!”

“It’s not my job,” Coralie admitted. “It’s a hobby. And I know you’re getting older, and you need your privacy, and you will have secrets. But always remember. You have so many people in your life who care about you. Who love you.”

“Okay,” Zora scoffed.

“Including me,” Coralie said. “Do you remember we came here the first time we properly met?”

“Soh-Soh?” Florence tugged at Zora’s sleeve. “I want to see the piggies!”

“Let’s go and see the piggies.” Zora stood and helped Florence down from her chair. They walked toward the door, holding hands. Coralie reached for her phone. She almost didn’t hear Zora rush back. “And, Coralie?” She looked up. “I do remember. And I love you, too.”

•••

Sooner or later,she’d have to move Flo upstairs into the spare room so the baby could have the nursery. Then where would she sleep on nights like this when she couldn’t bear sleeping with Adam?

He’d cycled to Mangal for Turkish takeaway, claiming they’d eat “well before eight,” which would be fine for Coralie’s sleep. At 7:49, he served mixed dips and mixed grill at the small table in the garden, a tablecloth over the bird poo. He had a beer, and Coralie had a sip. Where should she start? Zora was first, the eyebrow thing. The offer of Barbie’s flat, which Barbie had approved, and reservedfor the last week of August and first ten days of September. She told him about Richard Pickard attending the press day and how Stefan didn’t care. “So, I’m going to be off work next week, with my cold,” she concluded. “Then I’ll start my mat leave.”

“Good! Fuck him, and fuck them. Honestly!” After a second, he picked up his phone and swiped to check his WhatsApp.

“And I don’t think I can go back after mat leave.”

“Yes, okay, wow.” He put his phone on the table, face down. “What are you thinking? Not that youmusthave a plan.”

“I’ll think of something. But I was also thinking…of giving notice at nursery. Holidays are coming up. But then I thought—why send her back? I’ll be off with the baby anyway.”

“You want to look after two preschoolers? Full time?” His eyes looked wild, bloodshot from tiredness. “Are you mad?”

“No! God! No, I’ve enrolled Flo at Montessori. You know, the one behind the market. Nine till three thirty every day. Half days on Friday. It costs a lot less than nursery.”

“You’ve enrolled her?”

“The office closed today; I had to rush.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t discuss it? Or even mention it?”

“Surprised I didn’t ask for permission?”

“I didn’t say or mean that,at all.”

“But you thought it,” Coralie said. “Thanks for dinner!”

She stormed off toward the house, stumbling a little on the steps and giving her ankle a painful twist. “Ow!” she shouted back at Adam, as if he’d tripped her.