The hows and whys weren’t important. Biddy didn’t need to know how my –

‘Mel told me about your dad before I knew you,’ she said.

‘Oh, right.’

‘Aidan did it more or less the same way,’ she said. ‘And then, your poor mum.’

‘Yeah. But cancer, though, so I didn’t take it as personally.’

‘Yeah, I know … You do end up blaming yourself.’

Biddy’s smell, her body.

‘It’s a shame for my kids. She really loved them.’

‘I’m sure she did. God …’ An arm-rub, a kiss – she was alive, Biddy, living. ‘Are you going to play me something, then?’

I pulled the guitar onto my lap, coughed, heard my phone buzz, picked it up.

Zac: Any idea where your charger might be???

I threw the phone onto the sofa, played the guitar, made mistakes, sang, made mistakes, kept going, felt awkward, made mistakes, felt less awkward …

And Biddy clapped – oh, how she clapped. She sang along – oh, how …

Sarah and Mick going hell for leather, Biddy didn’t know yet. Oh, how Sarah …

My knuckles and fingertips were tearing – no plectrum, chewed nails, skin on oxidised …

… clapped and sang …

Biddy had slept with her too, might want to again. Why did everyone want to ride Sarah?

‘So, anyway, yeah,’ I said, leaning the guitar neck on the sofa’s arm, coughing.

‘Nice,’ she said. ‘Another?’

‘Oh, I’ll maybe quit while I’m ahead.’

My phone. Zac: ?????

Biddy leant against me, her head on my shoulder.

‘I could fall for you pretty easily,’ I said.

‘And you don’t want that?’ she said, sitting up, reaching for her wooden drug box.

‘It’s not that. My baggage … For you, I mean … it’s maybe …’

‘Yeah, OK,’ she said, licking the papers. ‘Should I be investing my energy and time in something that’s inevitably going to end badly for me? Should I be holding out for a guy who doesn’t come with a family?’

‘Yeah, exactly.’

* * *

I fought with the phone alarm – quarter to six – tried to slide from Biddy’s bed with my eyes closed, slid on something, nearly fell, put on the lamp. Oh, I felt like shit.

‘Cuddle,’ Biddy said, her eyes still closed, arms opening.

‘Um, yeah.’ I sat back down on the warm mattress, leant in, squeezed. ‘But I need to go soon. I’m taking the kids to school, need to get them ready.’

‘Just five minutes.’

Twenty minutes later, her bedhead came to a shuddering halt.

‘Oh, thank Christ,’ Winford shouted from the hallway. ‘Have a good day, everyone. Bye.’

‘See you,’ Biddy shouted.

‘Yeah, bye,’ I said.

Sarah would be leaving for work soon, livid. I had thirteen minutes to get home.