Fiona Gibson 3 Book Bundle. Fiona Gibson

an ambitious Lego construction which now bisects the kitchen.

      ‘You know what’s strange?’ Kerry says tersely. ‘He might not be the best-behaved dog in the world, but he’s actually never done this to anyone but you.’

      ‘Well, that’s nice,’ Rob says as Buddy continues to investigate his nether regions. ‘Suppose I should be flattered, then.’

      As Kerry regards him with distaste, sitting there pathetically on the floor, she is overwhelmed by an urge to kick him hard in the shins. She can’t, of course – not with Freddie beside him, carefully placing a yellow brick on the top of the wall. She must behave nicely. God. The effort required triggers a strong desire for wine, and it’s only 11 a.m… .

      ‘Maybe it’s a smell you’re giving off,’ she adds.

      ‘What d’you mean by that?’

      ‘Well,’ she says dryly, ‘perhaps you’re giving off a powerful testosterone scent that only dogs can detect. Maybe it’s an age thing – you know, your final hormonal surge.’

      Rob makes a small grunting sound.

      ‘Or,’ she continues, quite enjoying herself now, ‘you’ve brought it on yourself because you’ve got this thing about dogs homing straight for your toilet parts and it’s become a self-fulfilling prophecy.’

      ‘You’re deranged,’ he mutters, shaking his head.

      ‘I don’t think I am, Rob.’

      ‘Look,’ he says tetchily, ‘could you just call him off me please?’

      Call him off, as if he’s a savage police hound. Kerry snorts in derision as Rob tries to push him away, which has the effect of making Buddy sit obediently at his side and offer him a paw.

      ‘He’s giving you his paw, Daddy,’ Freddie observes.

      ‘Is he? That’s nice.’ Rob shrinks away a little.

      ‘Don’t you like Buddy?’

      ‘Of course I do, Freddie. He’s, ah … a real character.’

      Kerry turns away, wondering if these handovers will become easier with time, and if she’ll ever stop wanting to physically hurt him. Please leave now, she urges him silently. Just fuck off out of my house.

      ‘Buddy’s fine with all the other men who come round,’ she says before she can stop herself. Oh, the murky depths she’s plummeted to now. All the men who are desperate to ravish me, you arse, and who are thrilling in bed, unlike you who – I have to say this – was a pretty bloody tedious lay with your, ‘Ooh, give me a little scratchy first’ routine …

      The years of her life she wasted, dutifully running the tips of her nails up and down the jerk’s back. And the baby voice he used when he asked her! Ugh, she could puke right here on Aunt Maisie’s floral-patterned lino. How had she forgotten that?

      Kerry clears her throat. ‘Freddie, could you please go upstairs and tell Mia that Daddy’s ready to leave now?’

      Mercifully, he scatters a handful of Lego on the floor and charges upstairs as requested while Rob straightens up, somewhat creakily, Kerry is pleased to note. However, if he’s distraught by the possibility of her entertaining copious gentleman callers, he certainly isn’t showing it.

      Perhaps to distance himself from Buddy, who has rolled onto his back anticipating a belly tickle, Rob has now pos-itioned himself at the kitchen window. He looks, Kerry decides, like someone who’s just arrived at a rented holiday cottage and is assessing the view. She feels idiotic now for trying to make him jealous. After all, the prospect of going to bed with anyone ever again is highly unlikely. Sex has become like golf to her, or fly fishing – something other people do, and she can’t for the life of her see what’s so enticing about it. Last time she slept with a man who wasn’t Rob, mobile phones weighed roughly the same as a bag of sugar and she could have redecorated the house in the time it took to log on to the internet. What would happen now, if she were to find herself in bed with someone? Would candid shots of her naked body be broadcast across the globe?

      Even thinking about sex with Rob in the vicinity feels wrong. Pointedly refusing to break the awkward silence, Kerry busies herself by pretending to sort through an enormous stack of paperwork from the top of the fridge.

      ‘We were at the hospital on Thursday night,’ Rob murmurs, still facing the window.

      ‘Oh. What was wrong?’ She keeps her voice flat, emotionless.

      Rob exhales forcefully. ‘Er … Nadine had some pains. Thought she was going to miscarry …’

       Why the hell is he telling her this, and how does he expect her to respond?

      ‘So what happened?’ Kerry asks flatly, aware of the children chattering upstairs – no, arguing, actually. Mia has apparently ‘stolen’ Freddie’s wellies.

      ‘She was scanned, everything was fine – seems like it was just a warning. Doctor says she’s got to take it easy, she’s probably just been doing too much …’

      ‘Mmmm.’ Kerry flicks through a wodge of paper – a reminder to have Mia’s eyes tested, something from the bank, a new contract from Cuckoo Clock, a questionnaire asking her how she plans to boost Shorling’s chances of winning Britain’s Prettiest Seaside Town … If there are windowboxes at your property, are they: well-tended/requiring attention/empty at present (please tick box) …

      ‘She’s … er … coming to Mum and Dad’s this weekend,’ Rob adds. ‘I hope that’s okay with you.’

      Kerry blinks at the piece of paper in her hand. If you are able to get involved during the week prior to judging, what kind of help can you offer? Litter picking/exterior painting/tending communal gardens … please tick box.

      ‘It’s none of my business really,’ she replies, so relieved when Mia runs into the kitchen that she could hug her.

      It’s Rob who’s bestowed with cuddles, though. Kerry watches, feeling momentarily redundant as Mia exclaims, ‘I didn’t know you were here, Daddy! Freddie didn’t tell me …’

      ‘Me and Mummy were just having a chat,’ he says. ‘I love your hair in those little plaits, by the way. Very pretty. So what have you been up to this week?’

      Her face crumples. ‘Audrey-Jane was mean to me at school.’

      ‘Aw, what did she do, sweetheart?’

      ‘She said I could play, and we were playing, then Tabitha came over and they ran off and told me to go away …’

      ‘Oh.’ Rob, who finds the intricacies of girls’ friendships baffling, clearly doesn’t know how to respond.

      ‘They said we’re poor,’ she adds.

      ‘Silly girls,’ he blusters. ‘What a load of nonsense. They’re just spoiled rotten, okay? Anyway, I heard you’ve been doing really well in class …’

      ‘Yeah. Got to read my story out.’

      ‘That’s fantastic, darling. Well, the others are probably just jealous.’ Freddie has reappeared now, and Kerry quickly checks their overnight bags to ensure that essentials haven’t been discarded in favour of yet more cuddly toys.

      ‘All set then?’ She glances at Rob. ‘It’s just, I have a pupil due in ten minutes.’

      ‘But I wanna finish my wall.’ Freddie glares down at his Lego construction.

      ‘Sorry, we need to go now,’ Rob says gently, taking his hand. ‘Come on, Nanny and Nonno are so looking forward to seeing you.’

      Thank God for Rob’s parents, Kerry thinks, not for the first time since the break-up. Rob is using their place as a base for when he has the children, which means they’re