Wendy wasn’t really listening. Roy always babbled nonsensically when he was writing. The fact that he was writing was what mattered. She should have fessed up about her demotion to Enjoy! by now, but she didn’t want to distract him when he was finally writing again. “Can I tell you my idea?”

“Sorry.” He closed his laptop and looked up at her. “Yes, what is it?”

“Bonfire Night. Guy Fawkes. We’re going to have a Bonfire Night party here in our backyard. We can invite all our new Brooklyn friends. We can even drive to Delaware or somewhere and get fireworks—I think they’re illegal in New York State.”

“Illegal is good,” Roy said. “The police will be thrilled. And what will we burn? There aren’t many trees to cut down in our garden. Shall we pull all the doors off their hinges and burn them?”

“I’ll get the burning things,” Wendy said, annoyed at his mocking tone. “The bonfire has to be massive, as big as we dare. Maybe we can ask your artist friends to make us a Guy. Harry and Meghan are doing one in LA this year, their first one ever. That’s what inspired me.”

“Naturally we must keep up with the Windsors.”

“Ours will be even better,” Wendy said haughtily. “Manfred and Gabby and I will plan the whole thing. Maybe I can somehow spin it into a story for the magazine so they can pay for it,” she added without mentioning exactly which magazine. “All you have to do is invite the locals.”

There was a loud thump upstairs and a distinctly male exclamation of surprise or pain or jubilation.

Wendy froze and stared up at the ceiling.

“Do you think they’re having sex?” she whispered.

“Sounds like they might be trying on a little Posh and Becks,” Roy responded uncomfortably. He liked Liam, but Shy was his daughter. She was meant to eat cheese toasties and go to movies with him for the rest of her life.

“I think it’s good,” Wendy said uncertainly. “I mean, he could be scary and there could be massive clouds of drug smoke coming out of her room and loud music. He could be from some other neighborhood we don’t know. He’s a nice boy from school who’s good at math and wears clean clothes.”

Roy was trying very hard to unwatch The Blue Lagoon. Why on earth was Wendy choosing not to be uptight about this when she was uptight about almost everything else?

“Hope they’re being careful,” he grumbled.

Wendy snorted. “His mum is a school nurse. She probably started giving him responsible-sex talks in kindergarten.”