"And your daughters?"For a moment, Henry wanted to correct her, but 'daughters' had a very nice ring to it and the explanations would just cost time and effort."They can speak for themselves," he said instead.The girls ordered orange juice. When the stewardess was gone, Megan cuddled against him."So you wanna be our daddy?" she asked mischievously.He grinned ruefully. He would hear about this for a long time."I just didn't see fit to correct her. It's really nobody's business." Can we come and cuddle with you and Mommy?" Pat asked batting her eyelashes. Then she turned red. "Oh shit, sorry, that was stupid." I guess you can cuddle with her and you should," Henry answered calmly. "It's time you made peace with her." So we can't cuddle with you?" Megan asked with a faux dreamy voice but she watched his reaction like a hawk."On the sofa in the living room," Henry answered stoically, "that is, if there is a living room with a sofa." Oh goody!" Megan beamed.The plane was already taxying. “What are you up to you devious old bugger?” snickered Sandra, smiling, blowing a kiss, walking into Dick’s study half way through his phone call.“I told you I met Maury...” he started, getting a nod from his wife. “I’m going up there with Sunitra next Wednesday, only five miles and his address sounds a bit smartish ... You can come if you like.”“Does she know?”“She will when she gets up ... fuck where’s Sniffy, she’ll be hours ... ah there you are,” Dick greeted the Labrador who ambled in from the terrace. The dog followed Sandra, who cleared the breakfast stuff to one end of the big oak refectory table in the capacious kitchen for the Ukrainian immigrant cleaner and laid out the patterns for a new Kurti she was making for Sunitra. Dick left the kitchen and returned. She commenced pinning and marking, loving the exotic material her daughter had bought, envying in a small way, the wonderful dress culture the Bangladeshis had compared with the mundane Midlands garments she had worn.
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