‘Yes he is.’ One thing no one could accuse Brendan Sullivan of is lacking in the entertainment area. I’m grateful that he’s here and trying to gamify what could be a tedious week for us. Usually, it falls to me as the sole parent to keep Tabby’s mood up, even when I’m feeling totally devoid of personality myself. I don’t want to admit just how much of a reprieve his being here might mean for me.

‘Ninety-eight!’ Tabs calls out to Brendan as she sits on the loo and does her business. ‘Ninety-nine!’ I stare at the number in disbelief as it ticks back up to resting levels. She may only have taken a few steps, but this light physical exertion has barely moved the needle on her sats.

‘Liar, liar, pants on fire!’ Brendan yells back, and I hear the nurse laughing softly.

But she’s not lying.

The valve is working.

It’s really, really working.

CHAPTER 51

Brendan

If I say so myself, the LEGO Friends villa was a genius move, and, as I predicted, a great way for me and Tabby to spend the day. It’s the perfect project for someone stuck in hospital: fun; clear end goal; lots of smaller satisfying milestones along the way. Something Marlowe doesn’t know—or need to know—about me is that I adore LEGO to the point of having an actual LEGO room at home. It has a big square table for building and solid glass shelves for displaying the finished items.

Unsurprisingly, my main focus is on the really cool, expensive pieces of kit—the Millennium Falcon, the Eiffel Tower, the Titanic. You get the idea. I can get really, really obsessive about it and find it impossible to step away. My LEGO room is where I get a lot of solutions to my most vexing business problems. I’ve even had my marketing team reach out to LEGO several times to suggest they create a version of some of Sullivan’s more iconic buildings, and I couldn’t be more peeved that they’ve yet to take me up on my offers.

I rock up at the hospital after breakfast with a big box containing the LEGO Friends villa. I slept great, hugging the pillow that Marls had slept on that afternoon and revelling in the faint scent of her. This morning was an early start—thanks, jet lag—but it gave me a chance to get out for a run and clear my inbox in preparation for being laser-focused on Tabby. There were several passive-aggressive messages from competitors saying what a shame it was that I couldn’t make the summit. Who fucking cares. I’m right where I’m supposed to be.