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‘Too late, lazybones,’ Noah said and Nina opened one eye to see him staring down at her ringing phone.

‘Please … it can’t be that important,’ she grumbled, keen to get back to dozing.

‘What?’ Noah asked sharply, sharp enough that Nina managed to prop herself up on one elbow, but then the phone stopped ringing and he shook his head and walked to the bathroom with such an unsteady gait that he cannoned off the wall.

It seemed like she wasn’t the only one who was tired, Nina thought as her phone beeped to let her know she had a voicemail. Then it started ringing again. Stop. Snuggle. Beep.

Lather, rinse, repeat.

The fourth time it rang, Nina flung back the covers with a growl of pure frustration. There was obviously some kind of emergency and someone needed to contact her urgently, or there had better be, otherwise Nina was going to hunt down her caller and hurt him or her terribly.

Her legs were very wobbly as she wrapped herself mummy-style in a sheet and teetered over to the sideboard and her phone.

It started to ring again, with Paul’s name and a picture of Ellie and Rosie flashing on the screen. Nina reached for it with fumbling fingers.

‘What’s up? Is it an emergency? Is it Gran? Oh God, itisGran! Has she had another funny turn?’

‘It’s not Gran, she’s fine,’ Paul said cheerfully so there obviously wasn’t any urgent reason for him to bombard her with phone calls this early on a Saturday morning. ‘But you, you don’t sound fine. You sound rougher than a badger’s arse. Big night last night, was it?’

Nina blushed. Why she was blushing, she didn’t exactly know. And she also didn’t know how she was going to break it to Noah that she was the sister of his adolescent tormentor. That she, in fact, had gone to Orange Hill too and had witnessed her brother’s crimes first-hand.

It was a very complicated situation, which would need to be handled with a lot of finesse. But she was getting way ahead of herself. The most pressing thing was to come clean: it was not going to be pleasant but what they had was so special, so rare, that surely it could overcome a few obstacles? She’d tell him when they got back to London.

‘Just a medium-sized night,’ she rasped, her voice scratchy. ‘I’m actually out of town for the weekend …’

‘Yeah, that’s nice, can we talk about me now?’ Paul obviously wasn’t calling to exchange social pleasantries. ‘You have to help me! It’s our ninth wedding anniversary and it will be my last if I don’t get Chloe an amazing present.’

Nina’s legs really didn’t want to keep her upright any longer so she collapsed onto one of the armchairs on either side of the fire. ‘Why have you left it to the last minute?’

‘Because we said that we weren’t going to make a fuss about our anniversary. We agreed! And now she’s got a right cob on because I haven’t got her anything,’ Paul said in an aggrieved voice. ‘Says that she still hasn’t forgiven me for her birthday present.’

‘You got her a vacuum cleaner,’ Nina reminded him. ‘You’re a monster.’

‘It was a top-of-the-range model …’ Paul tailed off because there was no way he was winning this argument. ‘You’re a woman. What do I get her?’

Nina tipped her head back. She couldn’t decide if she was hot or cold. She felt like she was burning up under the sheet but her legs, exposed to the air, were freezing. And her brain really didn’t want to work. ‘Do you want my help?’ Nina barked, which made her throat feel even scratchier. ‘Because if you do, you can lose the tone, mate.’

‘Yeah, sorry about that,’ Paul struggled to find a more genial manner. ‘It’s just she’s already pretty mad. I’ve already been shouted at for not putting my cereal bowl in the dishwasher. So, have you got any bright ideas about what to get Chloe?’

This conversation was giving Nina the mother of all headaches. ‘Isn’t there a gift assigned to each year you’ve been married. Like, silver for twenty-five years, gold for fifty … Hang on, I’ll Google what nine years stands for.’

She was busy Googling when there was a polite cough. Nina looked up from her phone screen to see Noah standing there, a towel tucked round his waist. ‘Sorry,’ she mouthed. ‘Family crisis.’ And then she had to look away because last night she couldn’t see a thing and this morning, she could see everything. Or she could see that Noah was lean but muscly like all that kayaking and ziplining was quite the workout and yes, he was covered in freckles and next time, she was going to kiss every single one of them.

Which was probably why Noah was frowning because Nina was staring at him the way Strumpet stared at the fridge when it was stillhoursbefore his dinnertime.

‘So … you Googled it then? What’s nine years?’ demanded Paul who she’d put on speaker while she was searching and Noah seemed to flinch, then gathered up clean clothes and whisked himself back into the bathroom.

‘It’s pottery and willow,’ Nina told Paul distractedly.

‘Ah, that’s why Clo got me a cricket bat. Clever girl. What other stuff is made out of willow?’

‘Nothing that I can think of.’

By the time Noah came back into the room, fully dressed in jeans and ubiquitous navy jumper, the same frowny look on his face, Paul was under strict instructions to go to the nearest John Lewis (‘but that’s Kingston!’) to get a limited edition Diptyque candle in a beautiful, hand-made porcelain jar.

‘Fifty-five quid for a bloody candle!’ Paul shouted down the phone.

‘And get her some perfume while you’re there,’ Nina snapped back. ‘She’s the mother of your children. She spent two whole days in labour with Rosie so you can pony up on the anniversary present.’