In the meantime, Tony’s book had gone to auction and he’d somehow scored some of the biggest debut book contracts Darren had ever heard of. When it came out next year, the publicity was going to be huge. It was pretty much guaranteed to top the charts. In addition to that, Tony had recently mentioned how far along he was with his second book. ‘Hit sixty thousand words,’ he’d said, as though it was a race and he knew he was winning.

Darren knew jealousy was an ugly trait, but it was hard not to feel slightly put out when the brother who’d never been into English at school had eclipsed him.

He kept hoping that the right idea would spring to mind. But every time he touched his fingers to the keyboard, those words from the review would swim in front of his eyes: pretentious, amateur, clichéd. And he’d find himself breathing faster and faster until he’d snap the laptop shut, telling himself that tomorrow would be better. But so far, tomorrow hadn’t delivered. No tomorrows had. Thankfully he’d slowed down on his frenzied spending and started stretching out the money from his advance so he could live off it while he tried desperately to get this book written. But if something didn’t happen soon, he’d have to find himself an office job once again. It would be so humiliating after quitting his position to write full time.

As he tried yet again to force himself to type, a text message from Pete appeared on his phone. He snatched it up. Any distraction was welcome.

Got a spare five to meet me at Morrison Park?

Yep. See you there. He tapped out in response.

*

‘Can I ask what the point is of bringing them to the park at this age?’

Pete leaned back against the park bench and surveyed his two sleeping babies in the pram in front of them. ‘No fucking clue.’ He paused. ‘No. Wait. Fresh air. We’re here for the fresh air.’

‘Can’t you get that in your backyard?’

‘Technically, yes. Look, it’s just habit, okay?’

‘Yeah, fair enough.’ Darren leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. ‘Do you get chicks trying to pick you up when you’re out on your own with them?’

‘Nah. Everyone wants to look. Twins!’ He waved his hands in mock celebration. ‘Sometimes it’s nice that they’re interested but sometimes it’s bloody annoying. But no one’s hit on me. So no, you can’t borrow them to pick up women.’

‘I wasn’t asking!’

‘Yes, you were.’

A scruffy dog trotted past. ‘I’d get a puppy if I wanted attention from passing women,’ said Darren, nodding his head at the dog.

‘Not one like that. It looks like it hasn’t had a bath in years. Women would avoid you, not hit on you. Looks diseased.’