There was a different tread to Lennox coming in tonight; she and Parsley both sat up in anticipation. He came in looking slightly shamefaced.
“What?” said Nina, watching him with a smile on her lips as he came over and kissed her.
“Nothing,” he said guiltily.
“What?!”
“I’ve been thinking . . . well, if there’s maybe something in all this reading business.” And he unpacked an absolutely pristine copy of Up on the Rooftops.
“Where on earth did you get that?” said Nina in delight.
Lennox grinned. “I have my methods,” he said.
They ate supper and he poured them both a peaty-tasting whiskey, then she sat in front of the fire and he lay on the floor with his curly head in her lap and smiled up at her, and Parsley came and lay alongside, and Nina felt the warmth and contentment and happiness roll up and crest over her like a wave.
“Well,” she said. “Once upon a time there were three children. And their names were Wallace, Francis, and Delphine . . .”