We didn’t give up the house without a fight. Luke phoned Fabia to plead with her, and so did I and so did the real estate agent. But they exchanged contracts with the other couple two days after Minnie was born. The only tiny silver lining was that I got my Archie Swann boot back, after I sent Fabia about five threatening e-mails. Otherwise there really would have been trouble.

“More shoes.” A delivery guy comes by, carrying a cardboard packing box. “That fitted wardrobe’s full, you know.”

“It’s all right!” says Mum briskly. “Start filling up the blue bedroom. I’ll show you….”

“How are you doing?” Luke comes by in his shirtsleeves, carrying my Pilates ball and two hatboxes.

“Fine.” I nod, watching a delivery guy carry in my vanity case. “This is weird, isn’t it?”

“It’s pretty weird.” He puts his arm round me and I nestle into his shoulder. Last night was even weirder, with all the furniture packed up in the van and just a big empty flat filled with boxes. At about four A.M., Minnie just wouldn’t sleep, so I wound up her mobile with the Brahms Lullaby and put her in the baby sling. Luke wrapped his arms round us both and we kind of danced around the room in the moonlight.

I never realized that song was a waltz before.

“Luke!” Dad approaches us, holding a pile of post. “You’ve got a letter.”

“Someone’s very efficient,” says Luke in surprise. “I haven’t given this address to many people….” He glances at the logo on the back. “Ah. It’s from Kenneth.”

“Great!” I feign enthusiasm and make a face at Minnie.

Luke rips open the envelope and scans the text. After a second he peers harder. “I don’t believe it,” he says slowly. At last he raises his head and stares at me in disbelief. “It’s about you.”

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“Me?”

“There’s a duplicate letter in the post for you too. As Kenneth says, it’s quite a big matter, so he wanted to contact both of us.”

Oh, this is all I need. Letters of complaint from Kenneth.

“He hates me!” I say defensively. “It’s not my fault. All I said was that he was narrow-minded—”

“It’s not that.” Luke’s mouth twitches into a smile. “Becky…it looks like you beat me.”

“What?” I say in astonishment.

“One of your investments has done exceedingly well. I’m not sure Kenneth can quite cope with the news, to be honest.”

I knew it. I knew I’d win.

“What is it?” I demand in excitement. “What did well? It’s the Barbies, isn’t it? No, the Dior coat.”

“The Web site fabbesthandbags.com is going to be floated. You’ll make a stack.”

I seize the letter and run my eyes down it, taking in words here and there. Three thousand percent profit…extraordinary…unforeseen…

Ha-di-ha! I beat Luke!

“So, am I the most financially astute and clever person in this family?” I look up in triumph.

“Your Antiques of the Future are still a worthless pile of crap,” Luke says, but he’s grinning.

“So what? I still beat you! You’ve got lots of lovely money, darling!” I kiss Minnie on the forehead.

“When she’s twenty-one,” Luke puts in.

Honestly. Luke’s so boring. Who wants to wait till they’re twenty-one?

“We’ll see about that,” I murmur into her ear, pulling the blanket over her head so Luke doesn’t hear.

“Right!” Mum appears in the front door, holding a cup of tea. “That’s your bedroom pretty much full. But it’ll take an awful lot of sorting out and tidying, I’m afraid. It’s quite a mess.”

“No problem,” calls Luke. “Thanks, Jane!” Mum disappears inside again and he picks up the Pilates ball. “So, shall we make a start?”

I loathe sorting out. And tidying. How can I get out of this?

“Actually, you know, I thought I might take Minnie for a walk,” I say casually. “I think she needs some fresh air. She’s been stuck inside all day….”

“Good idea.” Luke nods. “I’ll see you later then.”

“See you later! Bye-bye, Daddy!” I wave Minnie’s tiny hand as Luke vanishes into the house.

I never realized it before, but having a baby is just the best excuse. For anything!

I put Minnie in her pram, all wrapped up cozily, and tuck Knotty next to her for company. I think Minnie’s quite fond of Knotty, actually. And Double-Knotty, which Jess gave her.




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