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Authors: Catherine Alliott

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‘Puppies!’ breathed Hannah blissfully into the silence. She beamed up at her mother. ‘Will Leila have puppies, Mum?’

‘No doubt,’ said Jennie darkly, resting her chin squarely on Jamie’s head; he was still squirming in her tight embrace. Suddenly
her face became wreathed in smiles. ‘And there’ll be no half measures for our Leila, either. She won’t pop out a modest set
of twins. Oh no, it’ll be a hundred and one Dalmatians for her!” She gave a sharp laugh.

‘And can we keep one?’ implored Hannah, her eyes huge.

‘No, darling, we can’t,’ Jennie told her firmly: overjoyed, it seemed, but not completely overwhelmed by the situation before
her.

Hannah’s face fell, as did Jamie’s when he was finally released.

‘Oh, Mum?’ he implored.

Dan raised enquiring eyebrows at his wife. Still in a position of power, he was keen to push home the advantage, and Jennie
caught the look and hesitated, which was fatal. It was pounced on immediately.

‘Go on, Mum!’ they chorused.

She vacillated. ‘Oh God, we’ll see,’ she said finally, at which massive capitulation a whoop went up from her offspring, including
Frankie. ‘I said, we’ll see!’ she cried, but everyone knew she was shot to bits.

‘Come on, you lot.’ Dan took Hannah’s shoulders and turned her about, grinning widely and propelling his family out through
the open back door. ‘Back to bed for you. Sorry, Poppy.’ He turned back to me as his offspring scampered excitedly away. ‘I
do apologize for intruding so brutishly on your evening, but thank God we got that one sorted out. It was only a matter of
time before she accused me of harbouring a love child somewhere in the village, of leading a completely double life.’ This
time he couldn’t resist a withering
look at his increasingly shamefaced wife. ‘An affair,’ he said incredulously. ‘As if. Who with? And when would I have the
time, or the opportunity?’ This, when his younger children were safely over the wall, Frankie in their wake.

‘Well, quite,’ muttered Jennie, looking exhausted suddenly. She ran a weary hand through her hair. ‘Or the bloody energy,’
she added ruefully.

‘And in the marital bed too. What kind of a man d’you take me for?’ He shook his head, lips pursed. ‘I worry about the way
your mind works sometimes, Jennie, I really do. In fact I’m increasingly concerned for your moral compass.’ He was enjoying
himself now.

‘I was severely provoked,’ replied his wife testily, not one to be contrite for long. ‘And since I’d exhausted all other possibilities
– or thought I had … Of course, foolishly, it didn’t occur to me it was your bloody dog shagging around, weeing on sticks
–’

‘That’s … my canine dog, I take it,’ put in Dan. ‘Only, just now you accused me of having some dog in bed with me, and I can
assure you that whilst Leila and I are very fond of each other we have never crossed that –’

‘Oh, shut up, Dan,’ Jennie interrupted, irritated. ‘You might have the high ground for one split second but we all know it
won’t last long. It’ll be shifting under your feet before you can say caught with your trousers down again.’

‘Which is why I’m making the most of it!’ he cried in mock outrage as they trooped off down the lawn together, taking a more
conventional route than their children, via my garden gate at the end, then back through theirs. He flung his arm around her
shoulders as they went. ‘Why d’you think I’m milking it for all it’s worth? Oh, good evening, Mrs Harper! Yes, the bitch
is
pregnant, isn’t that joyous? Doesn’t she look
well?’ A grey perm scuttled inside in terror. ‘Oh, don’t go,’ Dan cried. ‘Let’s make an evening of it! Why make haste when
there’s so much to celebrate? When the night is still young?’ We heard a kitchen door slam firmly. Dan grinned back at me
over his shoulder. ‘Night, Poppy.’

‘Night.’ I smiled and went inside.

Jennie, however, not one to leave a drama alone for long, was through that same back door the following morning, as I was
bundling my sheets into the washing machine. Clemmie, who had a cold, was playing quietly in the sitting room, and once Jennie
had popped in to say hello to her, she installed herself at my kitchen table with a mug of coffee.

‘Puppies!’ she groaned.

‘Now, Jennie,’ I warned, turning round from my machine, ‘I’m not having that. It’s bloody marvellous news. You were euphoric
last night. It’s yippee, puppies, remember?’

‘Oh, I know,’ she agreed. ‘And I was still in a good mood when we got in, I promise. I had a lovely hug from Frankie and we
even shed a few tears together.’

‘Did you? Oh,
good
.’

‘Stayed up chatting for ages. She was horrified that we thought she was pregnant but understood why. She also said I’d behaved
slightly better than her father, which cheered me. Said she’d had no idea her dad could go off the deep end like that. I told
her it was only because he loved her so much and she agreed, grudgingly, then, being Frankie, said, “Oh, so you didn’t, because
you don’t?” ’

I laughed. ‘Typical.’

‘I know, and she didn’t mean it. She was only being clever, so I didn’t react. She does that too much, of course. The clever,
cynical bit.’

I shrugged. ‘It’s just a defence mechanism. She’ll grow out of it. And she is clever, Jennie. Far too clever to get herself
pregnant. She’ll go far, that girl.’

‘I know she will. We talked about all that too – A levels, university. She’d like to go to Frazer House for sixth form.’

‘Oh. Can you afford it?’ Frazer House was private.

‘No. But I think we should try. She’d do so well there. I’m going to persuade Dan that we should borrow it, crawl to the bank
manager.’

I was silenced. Jennie didn’t believe in borrowing, it was against all her instincts. She kept a very tight hold on the purse
strings, but then again, as she always said, she had to. Dan would blow it all on the three-thirty at Kempton if he could.

‘Don’t think you’ll have any difficulty there, then,’ I grinned.

She smiled. ‘No, I know. And I do also know,’ she eyed me sheepishly, ‘that I am a controlling old bag at times, but trust
me, you’d be the same with my family.’

I wouldn’t, I knew. I’d be more like Dan; but that would be hopeless, wouldn’t it? People like Dan and me frittered money
until there was nothing left – like Dad, I realized, remembering too my hefty cheque to the hunt. Because it didn’t really
interest me. Careful people like Jennie were crucial. But then, that’s what I’d thought I had with Phil. And look how careless
he’d turned out to be? With feelings, rather than money.

‘And there is a boy,’ went on Jennie, still with Frankie. She sipped her coffee. ‘The only problem is, it’s Hugo.’

‘Hugo!’ I turned back from stuffing my sheets in. I was astonished. Hugo. Angus and Sylvia’s rather gorgeous grandson, who
hunted to hounds in the holidays and was currently on his gap year before going to Cambridge. He was very
much not what I’d expected, and very much the property of one of Angie’s girls, surely?

‘I thought he was joined at the hip with Clarissa?’

‘That’s what Clarissa thought too, and is mighty upset about it. She considers him to be her property – even though he’s never
been out with her. She knows he’s with a friend of hers but she doesn’t know who. He wants to break it to her gently, which
is why it’s a secret.’

I remembered Frankie running under cover of darkness to a car outside the pub, which of course was where he worked. Remembered
too Angie telling me Clarissa was upset about a boy.

‘Oh. Good for Frankie.’ I couldn’t help it.

She grinned. ‘I know. He’s a lovely boy.’ Suddenly she looked defiant. ‘But then she’s a lovely girl. Interesting too. Not
your run-of-the-mill, giggle at everything, flicky-haired type.’

‘Quite.’

‘She wants to grow it,’ she said absently. ‘Take it back a shade or two. More tawny.’

‘Good idea.’

We were silent a moment. My mind flew back to Jennie, years ago, struggling with this defiant, wilful child, whose alcoholic
mother had become more and more disinterested. There’d been some good years after that, between the ages of about nine and
twelve, when all that mattered had been getting in the netball team in the winter and the rounders team in the summer – Jennie
had even bribed the teacher with chocolate brownies once – but then some tricky ones. Could it be that she and Frankie were
entering a good phase again? And could it last, this time? Jennie had certainly put her back into it, even if at times she
felt she hadn’t.

‘Dan must be pleased? That you two are back on track?’ I hazarded, closing the machine door with an effort. Too full.

‘Yes, even though it’s slightly at his expense and he’s been cast as the tyrannical Dickensian father.’

‘That was just shock talking.’

‘I know, and Frankie knows it too. Yes, Dan’s pleased. In fact I’d go so far as to say he was positively smug last night.
I assumed he’d be asleep when I finally crawled upstairs after my session with Frankie, but there he was, propped up on pillows,
bright-eyed and banking on me being extremely grateful.’

‘Ah.’ I laughed. ‘Bad luck.’

‘Actually I rather enjoyed it. Didn’t seem like the onerous duty it sometimes does. I joined in for a change, rather than
viewing it entirely as a spectator sport.’

‘Slightly too much information, Jennie.’

‘Sorry. Just explaining the baggy eyes this morning.’ She grinned sheepishly and hid them in her coffee. They twinkled a bit.
‘Anyway, we made a sort of pact to go away on our own for a few days after Christmas. Get to know each other again, as they’re
so fond of telling us to do in women’s magazines.’

‘Good idea. I’ll have the kids.’

‘Thanks, but I think Frankie will be fine if you’d just keep a weather eye. Lob some fresh fruit over the fence every now
and then.’

It occurred to me that a few weeks ago Jennie would never have trusted Frankie to look after the younger ones. They must have
had a very good chat.

‘And what about you?’ She eyed me speculatively. I flinched. I knew that look. Once Jennie had sorted out her own life there
was nothing she liked more than getting to grips with someone else’s. I wriggled under her laser beam
but was trapped, like a moth on a microscope slide. ‘I thought you were going out last night? How come you were still skulking
in your dressing gown when we burst in like the Addams Family?’

‘Ah. Well.’ I told her about Luke. About Angie. Then about Peggy.

She looked thoughtful a moment. Compressed her lips. ‘Bit of a knee-jerk reaction?’

‘What, mine?’

‘Well, yes. Angie casually mentions you haven’t exactly been left destitute, and suddenly his motives are all wrong and he’s
a gold-digging fortune-hunter and you drop him like a hot coal.’

‘Well –’

‘You’re not exactly Jackie Onassis, Poppy.’

I flushed, remembering I’d compared myself to the very same woman last night. ‘No, of course not.’

‘You’ve just been left enough to buy a decent house and educate your kids, which the widow of any professional man who’s built
up a business might expect. Luke could have worked that out for himself. And you’ve still got two children, as he rightly
observed to Angie. Still come with baggage.’

I stared at her. ‘What are you saying?’

‘I’m saying you’re leaping to conclusions, courtesy of Peggy, who only thinks in black and white. Roger was the love of her
life, ergo there will never be another. End of story. So she gads about teasing the elderly bachelors but will never bring
herself to land one. Is that what you want?’

I sat down slowly. ‘Well, put like that …’

‘Life is not black and white, Poppy, it’s very grey, to the point of being grimy. There’s a great deal of compromise
and shading of areas – ask me and Dan. Just because you went so wildly wrong with Phil, doesn’t mean all men are shits and
you’re going to go disastrously wrong again.’

I gasped. ‘Did you have a glass to the wall?’

‘What d’you mean?’

‘Well, that’s what I think! What I told Peggy – that I will go wrong!’

‘I know, I can tell. And Peggy’s encouraging you to be forensic, to settle for nothing but perfection. She would. She’s all
or nothing. Which is fine if you’re happy with nothing. Personally I like a little something.’ She crossed her legs.

I gulped, horribly confused. ‘Oh God. Oh God, I don’t know, Jennie!’ I wailed, shooting anguished fingers through my hair.
I clutched at the roots. ‘When I talk to Peggy, I think – yes yes yes; and when I talk to you, I think – yes yes yes too!
Why is that?’

‘Because you’re suggestible, like my husband,’ she said calmly. ‘Not a sheep, exactly –’

‘Oh, thanks!’

‘But very persuadable.’ She brushed an imaginary bit of fluff from her knee, warming up nicely. ‘It’s terribly simple really.
Do you like him?’

‘Who, Luke?’

‘Yes of course Luke, not Dan. Although you’re more than welcome to him.’

‘Um, yes.’ I bit my thumbnail.

‘Enjoy his company? Enjoy spending time with him?’

I thought back to the pub lunch we’d shared: how he’d flipped beer mats to amuse Clemmie. Made me burst out laughing at the
King’s Head.

‘Yes, I enjoy his company.’

‘Enjoyed kissing him outside your house the other day?’

I stared. ‘Bog off, Jennie,’ I muttered, blushing.

‘Do you love him?’

‘No. I mean … I don’t know.’

‘Exactly, of course you don’t! And why should you? You’ve only known him a few weeks. But give it a chance, Poppy,’ she urged.
‘You don’t have to decide tomorrow, or next week, or even next year, but how will you know if you don’t at least give it a
chance? And if you’re worried about the money thing, just ask him.’

‘Oh, right, like – Luke, are you after my dosh?’

‘No, but you could happen to mention how Angie exaggerates like crazy – which she does – and has told half the village you’re
rich as Croesus. Laugh it off.’

Half the village. I thought of Odd Bob propositioning me. Stalking me, even. Saintly Sue telling me she couldn’t compete with
me in That Department.

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