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“I’m off. Think about it. You know it makes sense.” My daughter swanned out of the room.

And here was Phinney. Finally. Asleep on the floor.

“Shhh!” Marmie gestured, pointing at him. “Pilar lets him sleep on the floor. It’s easier.”

God help me.

And it was only day one.

27. Stewart

Calm. I felt it, despite being on my knees in the road trying to clean ketchup and vomit off the car mat in front of me.

Perhaps I should have taken the car in and had it properly valeted, but then I was me. Things I could do myself, I despised paying for, and this wasn’t bad. Just a few bits of organic matter stuck in the fibres that I was trying to scrub out.

I was doing an okay job of it. I hoped.

“Youokay, Dad?” Reuben sat on the stairs watching me with a cup of tea in his hand.

He was becoming me. Just like I was morphing into him, huffing and puffing and swearing under my breath, trying to get up off the ground.

At least the sun was shining.

“Where are the kids?”

“iPads,” he said, grinning. “They’re so used to doing homework on them now that they’re better than me at loading things up. All the apps and all that. I have to get Jay to log me into BitPaper for my lessons because I keep losing the link.”

“Bookmarks,” I said, like I knew what I was talking about. I did, actually. Jean had shown me, and I’d managed to print off paperwork the other day. Law stuff.

“I know. I can never remember. Too many weird new browsers with funny names, and I get confused. Then I start scrolling through things and get distracted.”

“Don’t I know it.” I smiled, sitting down next to him. “I think I got most of it out. A bit of a smell in the car, but I’m just going to leave the windows down for a bit.”

“You couldn’t have done that in Peckham.”

“Nah.” I smiled.

“Do you miss it? Our house there?” Good question. Big changes.

“I thought I would. I thought I’d miss the sounds and the neighbours and find it hard to adjust. Funny how I didn’t. This place felt like home from the start. Because you were in it.”

“I couldn’t move out of home without bringing you with me.”

“Independent living and all that,” I teased. He nudged my shoulder. I nudged his back.

“We’re just…evolving,” he said quietly. “Always growing. Becoming better at all this. Even me. I feel good now. Like, I know I’m a good dad, and I’m responsible, and the studying is cool and the kids and having Gray. It’s all become…I dunno. My life? And I have no idea how I lived before, because now it all seems like a blur.”

“I agree,” I said with conviction. He wasn’t wrong. “And here’s Constance.”

Looking like a completely normal girl. No make-up, jeans, a nervous scowl on her face.

“Hello,” I said politely, standing up.

“Hey,” she said, biting her lip.

“This is my son, Reuben. Reubs, this is Dylan’s daughter, Constance.”

“Hey,” he said, reaching out his hand, then standing up too and wiping his hands on his trousers. Nerves? What for?