"I can sing it in Welsh!" Higgs announced far too proud to be able to do something Gladys' parrot was going to learn to do. Higgs also could say 'hello' and 'gimme a biscuit', but he did not get as much use out of the latter as Dennis did. "Albeit," Higgs capitulated. "I am not a parrot, so perhaps it's less impressive as an achievement." Welsh, to be fair, was a hard language, Higgs was sure. His Welsh also didn't go much bast singing Happy Birthday and the occasional 'bore da' and 'nos da'. As much as visiting his nan and great-grandparents should have left Higgs with a greater ability to speak Welsh, it hadn't. He thought he was okay at understanding a conversation but speaking was much harder.
Higgs nodded offering Gladys a smile, a tired one that didn't quite reach his eyes, but a smile nonetheless, when she assured him that things would get better. "I trust you to be right," he said a little teasingly but also a lot hopefully. Higgs wanted to be able to sleep through a night without nightmares, wanted to not worry about loud noises or crowded spaces. It was all a very slow progress, but he hoped one he could make anyway. "Yes," Higgs nodded at the question. "I live with both Marcus and Pippa. You must come and see the house now that it's finished," he said with a more genuine smile that turned into a small chuckle when Gladys informed him he was very young.
She was, of course, right. Higgs didn't think there were many people who got divorced before the age of thirty. There were definitely some, but probably not many. He didn't think he even knew many people who were married. "The woman you used will do just fine, I think," not that Higgs really had any idea about divorce lawyers but he trusted that if Gladys was recommending the woman she'd be good.