Shopping With the Enemy by Carmen Reid Page A

you.’
    ‘But I was—’
    ‘I know where you were … it was completely weird! I do not want a dog licking my foot while I’m trying to concentrate on you … and new moves and trying to have a good time.’
    ‘Fair enough, I wouldn’t want the dog licking my foot either … Well, I don’t know – was he good? Was he better than me?’
    Annie gave Ed a playful smack on the shoulder.
    ‘Dave! Out!’ she ordered.
    The dog just cocked his head to the side.
    ‘Out!’ she yelled and hurled a pillow in his direction.
    Dave saw the pillow coming and high-tailed it towards the open door.
    ‘Annie, he’s a nice old boy,’ Ed complained, ‘don’t frighten him.’
    ‘Go to the door and wiggle the knackered handle until it closes. Please,’ Annie asked.
    ‘OK, OK …’ Ed ran his arm over her shoulders and tried to soothe her.
    ‘Stupid blooming dog. Now I’m all distracted.’
    ‘Honestly, lie down, focus, I can take you back … just give me a chance here.’
    Annie glanced at the door.
    ‘He’s still there!’ she complained. A grey muzzle and two beady eyes were poking round the edge of the door.
    ‘Dave, buzz off!’ Ed said, getting out of bed and waving his arms in the direction of the animal, ‘I have work to do here. I’ll see you later.’
    He pulled the door closed and played with the handle until there was a click.
    ‘Right,’ he said, heading back to the bed with an eager smile, ‘where were we?’
    But as the kissing got going again a ghostly wail drifted towards the room.
    ‘Waaaaaaaaaaaah …’
    It was the sound of Micky, tireless cot escapologist.
    ‘No prizes for guessing who that is,’ Ed began wearily. ‘You or me?’
    ‘I’ll go,’ Annie replied, ‘you take the dog downstairs. Then we’ll see if there’s any chance of reviving the situation in here.’
    ‘Muuuuuuuuuuuuuummmmmmmyyyy!’
    The little voice sounded tragic now.
    ‘And up we get,’ Annie said, stepping from the bed and wrapping a dressing gown around her naked body. She got to the door ahead of Ed, turned the handle and it came clean off in her hand.
    The spindle fell to the floor on the other side of the door and she was left staring at a firmly closed door with a hole where the handle used to be.
    ‘Ed!’
    ‘Oh fuddle.’
    Years of teaching had left Ed with a remarkably muted swear vocabulary. He got out of bed to assess the situation. He examined the hole where the handle had been with such a bewildered expression it would almost have been comical if the wailing from the twins’ bedroom wasn’t growing louder.
    ‘They’re both awake now. You have to do something.’
    ‘Yes, I had noticed,’ Ed said dryly.
    He pushed his finger into the hole the handle had left and felt around a little. He tried to pull the door open. But the catch was still holding firm.
    ‘We’re locked in!’ Annie exclaimed, beginning to feel slightly panicked now. The crying was reaching fever pitch and she was desperate to go and console her children. ‘What do we do now? Let’s get a coat hanger and poke it about, we’ve got to open the door.’
    ‘Good idea.’
    Ed hurried over to the wardrobe and brought out a thin wire hanger.
    With Annie urging him on, he tried various attacks: he poked the wire about in the hole, he poked it at the catch. Nothing worked.
    ‘MUMMMMY!’
    That was definitely Micky’s voice and it was growing louder.
    ‘He’s out of his cot,’ Annie said, really worried now. What if he fell hard on to the floor? What if he came out of his room and tumbled down the stairs?
    ‘Oh for Pete’s sake,’ Ed exclaimed, poking at the catch again.
    ‘Mummy?’
    The voice was definitely coming closer and sounded not so much upset now as questioning.
    ‘He’s coming to the door … Micky! It’s OK, but Mummy and Daddy are stuck in the bedroom.’
    There was no reply.
    ‘Micky? Are you there?’ Annie asked, face pressed against the hole as she tried to scan the landing for any sign of her son.
    There