She pushed a carbonised corner into her mouth, chomped down, crumbs falling, jam on her face.

The card …

‘Thank you, sweetheart.’ I kissed Oliver. ‘And thank you, Sophie.’ I took her envelope, kissed her cheek.

They’d made the cards themselves, drawn pictures of – ‘Oh, wow’ – the sun, a house, a dog. In Sophie’s: Happy birthday Dady, yor the best. In Oliver’s: Love you, dadda, happy burthday.

‘They’re amazing.’ I kissed them both again. ‘Shall we stick them up on the wall next to your other artwork?’

The Blu-Tack was, it was … Oh, fuck it, I’d do it later.

‘Open your present.’ Sophie handed me the … obviously socks, Sarah had obviously bought them, socks were something I obviously needed, something I’d told her I needed, but you never –

‘Wow, socks.’ Black cotton. I held them aloft. ‘Oh, and look at that, they’re both the same colour and everything.’

‘I helped choose them,’ Oliver said.

‘Amazing job, mate. I reckon these are the ones I’d have chosen for myself. Thanks.’

Another kiss – pucker up, kids.

‘And this one’s from me,’ Sarah said, leaning over, kissing me.

‘Oh, thanks.’ Her mouth was shut, no tongue, she should –

‘Open it, open it,’ Sophie said.

‘Can I tell you what it is?’ Oliver said.

I held the package, looked at it. ‘Let me guess.’

A Romantic Lovers Retreat on the Mornington Peninsula.

Maybe it was a book about that. I shook the package, stroked, examined.

‘Uhhhhh. Can I tell just tell you what it is?’ Oliver said.

A veritable wonderland for those craving sensuality and serenity in stunningly sublime surrounds.

‘He’s doing it deliberately,’ Sophie said. ‘He likes making us nervous.’

‘I have an idea what it is,’ I said. ‘I just don’t know if I’m …’ I held up the package, knocked on it.

Pressure-point body rubs available by request.

‘Maybe you guys could help with the paper,’ I said.

Oliver grabbed one end, started ripping, Sophie the other; Sarah watching, laughing. It was –

‘A book. Wow. Oh, that one.’ Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde, a hardcover. I’d read it several times in paperback. It was on the bookshelf in the living room, in plain view. Still, it was –

‘Brilliant.’ I turned, smiling, kissed Sarah on the cheek. ‘I look forward to re-reading that.’

‘You’re welcome,’ she said. ‘Zac’s going to babysit tonight. I thought I could take you out for dinner, and then dancing if you feel like it.’

* * *

I dropped the kids at school – little darlings – drove to John Gorilla for coffees, drove home. Sarah was in the bathroom. I put her extra-hot soy latte with a quarter-spoon of sugar on the kitchen bench, hated ordering that, went through to the bedroom to finish my long black and think about what I’d do with my six hours alone, my six blessed hours. Maybe I’d do that, just think about those 360 minutes.