As I cleared away the dirty dishes and crocks, Stella came out to help me. “That went pretty well, all things considered.”

“Erm, what did you say?” I asked not having listened. I felt as if I was betraying Stella, I knew something she didn’t which might harm her. It was bad enough to think that she had lost Des; to consider he had fancied me more was to add insult to injury. Was it necessarily true, was Dave mistaken? I mean how could he fancy me over Stella? She was real, I was a sham, a fake–how could this happen? She was beautiful and intelligent, whereas I was–nothing, not even with a job.

“You aren’t listening now, are you?”

“What?”

“See–why do I bother? Might as well talk to myself–that’s a good idea, Stella, at least then you’d get an answer.”

“I’m sorry, Stella, my mind kept flitting to Des, seeing his parents has brought it all back with a bump. We’ll never see him again.”

“I know,” she said and began crying. We hugged and wept together.

When bedtime came, I felt a bit unsure of what to say to Simon and to Stella–for that matter. Maybe I should have asked to share with Tom? There was no way I could get two others in my bed, it wasn’t big enough.

If I slept with Stella, I’d feel guilty all night. If Simon slept with me, his ideas may differ from my own–I simply wanted to sleep. I needed to discuss what Dave Lane had said, with someone, keeping it to myself was driving me nuts. Perhaps, I could talk to Tom eventually, when Stella was away or asleep? Why did he have to tell me, and what was it he was talking about in the will? Could it be a time-bomb, just waiting to happen?

Stella took herself off to bed, her own one. That was a relief, Simon and I went up after I made up a bed for Tom. It could be I needed a bigger house? Kiki slept on the floor near her master. At least one of my guests was easy to organise.

“Gi’s a cuddle then,” said Simon as we got into bed.

“Remember, I have to work tomorrow.”

“Yeah, so–it’s supposed to help you sleep.”

“What is?”

“You know,” he replied. I did know but wasn’t allowing him the satisfaction by revealing it.

“Simon, if I knew, why would I bother asking?”

“To avoid it.”

“Avoid what?”

“You know.”

“Simon, this could take all night….”

“Yes please,” he chuckled back.

“I’m going to sleep, good night.” I turned over facing away from him. He groaned and cuddled into the back of me. His hand was around my waist, but two minutes later it had travelled up to my breast, which he was tickling. I moved his hand back down to my waist, even though I was enjoying his attentions. I needed to sleep. “Good night, Simon,” I said firmly.

Five minutes later his hand was back on my breast, this time only cupping it. I ignored it. The fingers started to gently massage me–it was sooo nice, I really didn’t want him to stop, however, I needed to sleep.

I continued to ignore him and his hand, until his other hand began to stroke my bum. “Will you stop it?” I asked firmly.

“Why? I’m not stopping you sleeping.”

“What? You should try sleeping while somebody is rubbing your boob and your bum.”

“Okay,” he said, “You do it to me, I’ll bet I can sleep.”

“What? D’you think I came down in the last shower of rain?”

“I think you’re lovely.”

“Especially when I’m angry,” I snapped.

“Sometimes. Tell me, what did Des’ dad want to talk to you about?”

“The dormouse film, why?”

“He mentioned that earlier, it was hardly private stuff, so come on, fess up.”

“Okay, he was warning me about something in Des’ will.”

“His will–like what?”

“I don’t know, he didn’t say anything else, other than to expect to be surprised.”

“How strange?”

“Exactly, now can I go to sleep?”

“So has he left you anything in his last will and testicle?”

“How do I know?”

“Very interesting, what about Stella?”

“I don’t know, do I?”

“Shit, if he’s left you something and not her, she’ll go ape.”

“Now you know why I’m worried.”

“Was that the impression he gave?”

“Was what?”

“The impression. Did he give one that you had something coming and Stella didn’t?”

“Not exactly, he didn’t mention Stella.”

“So what else did he say? You were talking for several minutes.”

“I can’t remember just now, it wasn’t important.”

“If you can’t remember, how do you know if it’s important or not?”

“Go and play with your sub-primes and let me go to sleep.” It went quiet for a few minutes and I’d hoped he’d dropped off. He hadn’t, he’d been analysing what I’d said–amazing; normally he didn’t listen at all.

“You were more important to him than Stella, weren’t you?”

“Erm, what–I was just nodding off,” it wasn’t true but he didn’t know it.

“He liked you more than Stella, didn’t he?”

“Don’t be daft, how could anyone fancy me more than Stella. She’s a real woman to start with, I’m just a facsimile.” I felt a tear run down my cheek.

“You are as real as anyone, you don’t have to justify it. Soon you’ll be able to get your new birth certificate and we can get married. I never want to hear you describe yourself as anything but a real woman, okay?”

“But it’s true, Stella is far more desirable than I am. So how could he fancy me more than her?”

“You’re a beautiful woman, Cathy. I fancy you like mad, right this minute. It’s easy to see how any man worth his salt, would fancy you.”

“But Stella is beautiful, too”

“Yes she is, but you have something she doesn’t…”

“Yeah, a bloody ‘Y’ chromosome.”

“Geez, Cathy, will you stop it. I don’t care what your chromosomes say, I love you. So there.” He leant over and kissed me, I felt tears run down my face into my hair.