‘People think having a gifted child is a blessing,’ he went on, folding his arms and shaking his head at the ceiling. A man with a trolley chockfull of Blu-Ray players waited patiently for him to move before giving up and attempting to manoeuvre around. ‘And of course we’re proud of your sister, she really got a double dose of brains, that one, but it was a lot. All those extra classes, all those extra activities. You must remember how she was when she got kicked out of the Brownies, or had you left for university by then? That tantrum lasted a full week. Wouldn’t eat, wouldn’t sleep, screamed all day long, from sun-up to sun-down. According to your mother, that is, I was in Switzerland looking at a prototype for a tap that produced boiling hot, filtered water at the time. Ground-breaking, it was. Back then, anyway; everyone’s got it now. You can make tea, right out the tap, you know?’

‘I’ve seen them, yeah,’ I replied, still somewhat struggling to get past the bombshell.

‘It’s a lot of maintenance,’ he shook his head. ‘You’ve got to get the filter changed every couple of months, take the whole thing to pieces if it breaks. No, it’s not worth it. Not when you’ve got a fast-boil kettle. Anyway, back to your sister.’

‘You know, this all looks lovely,’ I interrupted him and nodded at everything in the trolley. ‘But given how much you want to make the renewal extra special, maybe we should get a caterer to do all the food? And drink? Maybe we just get an event planner to do the entire thing?’

Dad considered this for a moment.

‘You want me to get an event planner and a new suit?’

I nodded.

‘No, I don’t think so.’

Without a word, I grabbed a two-litre bottle of vodka from the shelf and placed it in the trolley.

‘Come on, Rosalind,’ he said, immediately putting it back. ‘You know better than that. Vodka is for Russians, alcoholics and students.’

Three groups of people he held in equal contempt.

‘Everything all right with the shed?’ Dad asked, making a wide left into the baked goods aisle.

‘I think there might be a leak in the roof,’ I said, eyeing a twenty-four pack of chocolate chip muffins. ‘Every time you hilariously hit it with the hosepipe at six a.m., I get dripped on.’

He chuckled softly to himself, missing my sarcasm completely. ‘There’s no leak,’ he replied decidedly. ‘Must be condensation. We’ll get you a dehumidifier.’

My phone vibrated against my hip with a message from my sister.

So?

Oh to be eighteen and not give a fuck. A second message buzzed through before I could turn it off.

1 in 4 pregnancies result in miscarriage. It’s more common than you think.