“Why? Because I’m single and don’t have kids? This is a business, Christy. A cold, ruthless business. We might be selling toys, but there is nothing warm and fuzzy about this job. And I know more about toys than anyone. I know which toys are likely to make a child smile for five minutes or five days. I know which toys are likely to break before the end of the day, which toys might persuade you it’s worth studying harder for exams, and which toy is so awesome it might even make a child forget that their parents don’t want them around—” There was a moment of silence. “Did I really just say that? Don’t read too much into it. Jet lag is making me maudlin. Or maybe it’s this time of year. You know how messed up I am about Christmas.” Alix’s light tone covered layers of emotion and memories. “My point is I have plenty of personal experience of toys. Toys are currency, and no one knows their value better than I do.”

“Sometimes they’re a gesture of love.” Christy felt a surge of compassion. “Have you heard from your parents?”

“No, thank goodness. It’s not as if I’d want to spend Christmas with either of them, anyway. Can you imagine it? Kill me now.”

Christy stowed the paints and brushes in a box, grateful for the love her parents had shown her and the example they’d set. She’d modeled her own family life on theirs, carrying across the routines and traditions from her own childhood.

She thought back to the nights Alix had stayed over at her house. There had been a lot of nights and lots of childhood confessions. My parents don’t want me around. They never wanted me.

Christy pushed the art box into the cupboard. Her home might leak, but her daughter knew she was loved. “Remember all those times my mother told us off for talking until the early hours?”

“And for making hot chocolate at two in the morning.”

“And dropping biscuit crumbs in the bed.”

Christy leaned against the cupboard, her mind in the past. “We were always making plans. And look at us.”

Alix gave a quick laugh. “I wanted to climb the corporate ladder, and you wanted a husband, a child and a cottage in the country. Looks like we both got what we wanted.”

Christy stared at the rain hammering the window. “Yes.” But what if what you’d wanted didn’t turn out so great after all? What then? “Are you happy with your life?”

“Of course. What sort of a question is that?”

“You don’t ever feel lonely?”

“Are you kidding? I’m with people all day, and even when I’m not with them physically, they’re calling me.”

Christy waited for Alix to bounce the question back to her, but she didn’t.

“You don’t regret anything?”

“What would I regret? Are you asking me if I want to get married, have children and move to the country? We both know that’s not for me. I don’t want the responsibility. I mean, get it wrong and a child is messed up forever. If you need evidence for that, look at me.”