After getting April and Peter cleaned up and changed, Jack and I take it in turns to wash and take off out dirty clothes. I’ve hand-washed Jack’s T-shirt to the best of my ability and left it to dry in the airing cupboard, and with my skirt and top pretty much ruined by the filthy, germ-filled water, Jack has kindly offered me his zip-up hoodie to wear, so I’m currently making that do as a dress, and Jack is wandering around shirtless.
I tuck April in as Jack lifts Peter into his bed. Peter has a puzzled look on his face.
‘What’s up, kid?’ Jack asks.
‘Why do you have boobies?’ Peter asks him.
‘They’re not boobies,’ Jack tells him proudly. ‘They’re pecs.’
This reply does not satisfy Peter, who starts giggling again.
‘Jack has boobies, Jack has boobies,’ he sings. ‘Men don’t have boobies, but you have boobies.’
‘His dad has boobies,’ Jack whispers to me, obviously annoyed he was checking me out before. ‘I preferred him when he was silent, but violent with a spoon.’
‘Jack has boobies, Jack has boobies,’ Peter continues to sing, with April soon joining in.
‘If he wasn’t a kid I’d have punched him by now,’ Jack jokes under his breath.
‘Jack, you can’t fight a six-year-old.’
‘Why not?’ he laughs. ‘I’d win.’
‘Oi, kid, what’s that behind your ear?’ Jack asks Peter as he reaches behind his head, his hand re-emerging with a pound coin in it.
‘Whoa,’ April gasps. ‘Do I have anything in my ears?’
‘Well, let’s see,’ he says, walking over to her bed before repeating the same trick. ‘Yeah, here you go.’
Both kids are absolutely delighted with their money, so much so they stop singing and start behaving.
Jack has had the foresight to order a pizza, so we’re not back downstairs for very long before it arrives, which is great because I’m starving. As I grab the plates, Jack rummages around in the box of DVDs next to the TV and picks out something funny for us to watch.
I sit next to Jack on the sofa and watch him as he eats his pizza and laughs at the TV. I have to admit, he has the most gorgeous smile I have ever seen and I don’t think there’s anything more attractive than when he laughs. His dimples get more pronounced and his eyes just light up. A muscular, shirtless man with a gorgeous smile, eating pizza, is every girl’s fantasy, right? My God, even his muscles have muscles. I suppose I can’t blame him for getting with chick after chick. Pulling must be almost too easy for him.
Jack looks at me and catches me staring, but he’s too polite to say anything.
‘You OK?’ he asks.
‘I guess,’ I reply. ‘I’m doing my best, working with what I’ve got and all that, but things are just such a mess. And it’s tough being around so much wedding stuff.’
‘I know,’ he says sympathetically. ‘Here.’
Jack stretches out an arm and wraps it around me. As we watch the movie he strokes my hair gently to comfort me and I feel myself melt. This is probably the most relaxed I’ve felt since I got here, so relaxed that my eyes are feeling heavy…