Page 22 of Sunrise By the Sea

She picked up the note, put it down again. This was ridiculous. She knew what she had to do. Knock at the door. Introduce herself. Politely state her request and why it was necessary for her well-being and mental health that she wasn’t being auditorily assaulted all the time . . .

Yes. She would. She would do that. Like a normal person. She was a normal person. She was fine. She was absolutely fine. She lifted her hand to raise it—

‘HELLO, NEW LADY!’ came two small voices. Up the unfinished road swung Daisy and Avery, the little twins from the bakery. A tall blond man in shorts, presumably their father – Avery was his spit – was following them up the hill, talking intensely into his mobile telephone, his face worried.

‘My daddy is on the telephone and we are going to our piano lesson,’ said Daisy, as if Marisa was a policewoman asking for a precise account of her movements.

‘We don’t need Daddy, AS YOU SEE,’ said Avery, swinging his arms. ‘BYE!’

Huckle lifted his tired face for a moment, then went back to his call.

‘We share a piano lesson now,’ said Daisy in a confiding voice. ‘We used to have one each but now we have one together and Avery is very naughty.’

‘Because is SPENSIVE.’

Unused to contact with other people for a long time – and completely unused to children of any sort – Marisa smiled in a slightly distant fashion and backed away, even as Huckle hung up his phone and smiled at her apologetically.

‘Sorry.’

‘We don’t need you, Daddy,’ said Avery.

‘But! What if!’ hissed Daisy, obviously referring to an earlier conversation.

Avery looked scared and piped down.

‘What if what?’ said Huckle, in an amused voice.

Daisy shook her head, shushing him, with a very distinct ‘not in front of the children’ expression on her tiny face.

‘What if what?’ persisted her father.

‘What if Mr BatBAYar brings his BEAR FRIENDS,’ hissed Daisy in a stage whisper as Avery took on a hunted expression very similar to his father’s only a moment or so before.

At that moment the blue door swung open. The music teacher stepped out, without looking to where Marisa was. She shrank back in the door frame, inside the safety of her own four walls once more, hidden from view.

‘Aha! My favourite pupils who are . . .’

It was clear he didn’t know the word for twins.

‘. . . being born on one day that is the same day,’ he finished triumphantly.

‘You mean “twins”,’ said Daisy seriously. ‘We’re twins.’

‘Tweens.’

‘Twins.’

‘I say that.’

Avery was trying to see round Mr Batbayar, which wasn’t easy as he took up the entire doorway. Mr Batbayar looked behind him.

‘Just me,’ he said. ‘No—’

‘Don’t say it!’ said Daisy.

Mr Batbayar raised his huge hands and beamed at Huckle.

‘You stay?’

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