"Then you can sing it together," Gladys amended, chuckling. "And I'll bake you a cake." Despite many years in which to practice, Gladys was well aware that he was not very good at making cake. It was usually a bit flat, or a bit dry, or both. Always edible, but never what you'd call delicious. What she was excellent at, however, was cake decorating. She'd been on a course and everything. "What would you like this year?" she asked, as if Higgs weren't well and truly too old for homemade birthday cake with themed decorations. She patted his arm as she let it go so they could both survey their ice cream options. "It's no less an achievement," she insisted. "Dennis only repeat the sounds, you actually understand the words."
Gladys nodded emphatically. "I'm right most of the time," she said, "it comes with being so very old and having so much life experience. I'm definitely right this time." Because Higgs was strong, and he had a network of friends and family, and between them there was nothing that couldn't be vanquished, given enough time. She dimpled at him. "Oh, I would like that very much. And I can finally meet the dog that isn't really yours but lives with you. Does Pippa have pets as well?"
"I'll find you her business card when we get home," she assured him. Her own divorce had been relatively civil, if emotionally upsetting, but she trusted the common sense of the lawyer she'd enlisted and didn't doubt she would do a fine job even if Terence's divorce was more complicated. "Now. What kind of ice cream do you want? My treat, and don't argue."