Mateo had been going through the books for an hour, sure there was something he was missing, some reason profits were falling. So far, he’d found nothing. The ring of his phone was a welcome distraction. The caller was not.

‘What can I do for you?’ he said.

‘Not take that tone, for a start,’ Maeve said, laughing. She had a way of making Mateo feel like a joke. ‘I’m calling about Sergio.’

‘What about him?’

‘What do you think? You only have to look at him, Mateo. He’s gaunt, his eyes are red. He’s drinking too much.’

‘The boy likes to enjoy himself,’ Mateo said. ‘He’s no worse than you and I at his age.’

‘No worse than you, maybe,’ Maeve countered. ‘He’s been asking me for money,’ she added.

‘So? You’re his mother. And you have plenty.’

‘Are you jealous, darling?’

‘Don’t call me darling,’ Mateo grumbled.

‘Just keep an eye on him, can you do that much? I’m worried.’ Maeve ended the call before Mateo had the chance.

*

The bell had been ringing all morning. Parcel after parcel had been delivered, until Jemma could have built a fort with the boxes, had she been so inclined. She opened them, piling their contents on the coffee table, the couch, the floor. She was admiring her spoils when Holly came home from work. ‘What’s all this?’ she asked from the living room doorway.

Jemma tried not to smile, knowing she had to tread lightly. ‘My posts about trying for a baby got some traction. Companies are reaching out.’

‘Reaching out?’ Holly joined Jemma among the boxes. She picked up a package, pastel pink and blue, wrapped in ribbon.

‘They want me to post about their products. So we’ve been sent some gifts.’ 

Holly untied the ribbons on the package. Inside was a baby’s rattle. ‘Look at this,’ she said. ‘It’s beautiful.’ She looked around the room. ‘Is it all… is it all baby stuff?’

Jemma nodded. ‘I know it isn’t great timing,’ she said. ‘But this is huge for me, Holly. This is the kind of engagement I’ve been working towards.’

Holly looked at her. She started to cry.

*

The twins were ratty. They’d been on the landing for half an hour, since they’d come back from the shops and Erin realised she’d forgotten her keys. She was waiting for Andy to get back from work, kicking herself. She’d handed him proof that she wasn’t coping.

‘Quiet,’ she hissed, aware the twins were getting louder. She didn’t want to disturb the neighbours. But her telling them off only made things worse. Their shouts became screams. ‘Quiet,’ Erin said, louder. They kept screaming. ‘Please be quiet,’ she said, trying to hug them, trying to calm them down.  ‘Please.’ They fought her off, so Erin let them scream.

She was at the end of her tether, and she knew there was a bottle of wine in the shopping bags she’d hefted up the stairs. She rifled through them until she found it. She was unscrewing the lid when James opened his door. She braced herself for his complaint.

‘Here,’ he said, addressing the twins. ‘Who wants a toy?’ He reached out his hands, offering them an old toy car each. The twins toddled across to take them. 

‘That ought to shut them up,’ he snapped. He’d shut his door before Erin could respond. She put the lid back on the wine, put it back in the bag. She watched the twins play.

*

Angel wasn’t sure why she’d thought calling her mother was a good idea. Maybe she wanted to be berated. Maybe she thought it was warranted. But listening to her mother’s insults and accusations for the first time in months didn’t make her feel any better. She hung up after a few minutes, and tried to turn her attention to studying.

Her phoned beeped. Anticipating an angry message from her mother, she picked it up. It was a text from Dr. Tavish. You looked beautiful today, it said. I couldn’t take my eyes off you. He’d given her his number, and asked Angel for hers, after she told him about her father threatening to stop paying her rent. ‘In case you need help,’ he’d said. He hadn’t said he intended to do this.

Angel threw her phone onto the bed, wanting it gone. What was he doing, she wondered. He was old, he was married. What did he want? Had she done something to encourage him, somehow? She didn’t think so—but then, hadn’t she encouraged Sergio, without meaning to?

She’d thought nothing could make her feel worse than having had sex with Sergio. But Dr. Tavish’s text managed to.