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‘Yes, it’s a very interesting bed, though,’ she replies.
‘Is it?’ I frown. ‘It’s just a normal king-sized bed.’
‘Are you sure it’s a king? It feels sort of small.’
Gail narrows her eyes at me, as though I’m trying to deceive her.
‘I’m just going to wake Jess up, she’s sleeping on a sofa bed – I could ask her to trade with you, if you like?’
It’s a good way to remind her of Jess’s name, so she doesn’t call her Jessica again.
‘Oh, no, I can only imagine that’s worse,’ she replies. ‘I’d best get back to work.’
I don’t actually know what Gail does for a living. To be honest, I don’t want to ask, I don’t want to get into conversation, but it must be something that doesn’t stop just because it’s Christmas because she makes it sound like she’s really busy all the time.
I knock on the door, to give Jess a chance to object to me walking in. Growing up, we were always in and out of each other’s rooms. One of the best things about having a sister is having an in-house best friend. The worst thing, if you’re interested, is having someone who steals your clothes and then tries to pretend they didn’t. We’re still putting the great lilac halter-neck theft of 2003 down to a petite, kind of slutty burglar.
‘You awake?’ I ask quietly as I approach the sofa bed.
‘I’m trying not to be,’ she replies sleepily. ‘Unless I just had a nightmare in which Dad and his new missus showed up for Christmas. If it was a nightmare, then I’m glad to be awake.’
I climb into bed next to her.
‘Not a dream, unfortunately,’ I tell her. ‘He’s downstairs now, with Mum, chatting over brunch, talking about how they’re going to make Christmas dinner together like some sort of Instagram couple goals account.’
‘Gross,’ Jess groans.
I think for a moment.
‘He seems really quite taken with her new look, although I suppose it’s a good thing that they’re both being so mature about being in the same house together for Christmas. How would you feel if Armie came to stay?’
‘I’d be cookinghimfor Christmas dinner, not cooking it with him,’ Jess mumbles into her pillow. ‘How was bingo?’
‘Oh, fine. Bingo was bingo, you know?’
‘Sometimes I’m amazed that you’re an English teacher,’ she teases, finally rolling over to face me, her eyes still half-open as they adjust to the light.
I smile.
After what happened last night, I’m pretty baffled myself, that people let me teach kids. I couldn’t have felt more stupid. Actually, I suppose it could have been worse, I could have tried to go home with them.
‘Mum seems really happy, doesn’t she?’ I point out.
‘Mum is always happy,’ Jess reminds me.
‘She is, but she’s got a real sparkle about her today – I suppose it’s her easy confidence, and seeing her around Dad for the first time in years, she’s nothing like she used to be,’ I think out loud.
‘What are your plans tonight?’ Jess asks curiously.
I take my phone from my pocket and check my calendar.
‘Disco bowling,’ I reply simply.
‘Wow, okay, sis,’ Jess says through a snort. ‘Boozy bingo one night, disco bowling the next – you’re definitely up to something. Whatever you’re really doing, I hope you have fun. Be safe, etcetera.’
‘Thanks, Mum,’ I tease. ‘Speaking of Mum, she asked if you want something to eat.’
‘If the two of them are playing all nicey-nicey, I’d rather starve,’ she says firmly.
