And then there was the issue of their sex-life. Even if they had decided to have children, it would be a bit hard to create life when things had slowed down so rapidly in the bedroom. Her attempt to rekindle the spark on Sunday afternoon had ended up fizzling after they’d headed to the bedroom. A back massage that was meant to be a sensual appetiser to the main event had instead resulted in Tony snoring into the pillow. She’d tried hard not to be offended and had hopped in the shower for her own solo event while Tony napped the afternoon away. He’d woken in the early evening, bleary eyed and apologetic.

‘Oh, fuck it,’ said Andrea. ‘Pour me a glass of red, would you?’

Tony headed back to grab the bottle and another glass and then filled it almost to the brim. He placed it in front of her. ‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘I’m not meaning to antagonise you. I just don’t want you to end up in a war with the woman next door.’

‘I know,’ said Andrea. ‘Maybe you’re right, maybe I am overreacting.’

Tony sat down next to her at the table. ‘Can I help with the reports?’

‘Ha, you’re very sweet but that’s impossible. You know what I do need help with though? Figuring out what to do with the kids for the next week and a half. It’s always so hard finding ways to keep them engaged when school’s almost done for the year and the exams are all over.’

Tony swirled the wine in his glass. ‘Hmm, I always enjoyed playing a few rounds of hangman during the final weeks of the term.’

‘Oh, very helpful.’

Tony suddenly sat up straighter. ‘Actually,’ he said, ‘I can help you!’

‘With the reports?’

‘No, with the kids. I could come in and chat to your English class.’

Andrea was taken aback. ‘Chat to them about what?’

‘About being a published author!’

Andrea smiled. Considering Tony’s book wasn’t even out yet, she wasn’t sure how much he’d have to tell them. But she could see the spark in his eyes. He was excited by his own idea. She supposed he could discuss his writing process. She did her best to match his enthusiasm.

‘Of course! I can’t believe I’ve never thought of that. They’d love to hear from a published writer.’

He looked worried then. ‘Although . . . I don’t really know how to talk to high school kids, what if I don’t know what to say to them?’

‘You talk to them the same way you’d talk to anyone about writing. They prefer it when you treat them like adults.’

‘All right, I’ll do it,’ said Tony, as though Andrea had been the one asking. ‘But can you do something for me?’

‘Sure.’