There was not an inch of private space where one could avoid the prying eyes of two nine-year-olds with a complete inability to keep a secret

E

sti had fallen asleep brimming with ideas about the amazing surprise that she would make for her mother as a way of saying thank you. But when she awoke to the noisy chatter of her twin sisters playing on the landing, cold reality dawned upon her. There was not an inch of private space where one could avoid the prying eyes of two nine-year-olds with a complete inability to keep a secret.

How was the birthday cake ever going to be a surprise?

“Where are you going?” said Dini, as Esti attempted to slip downstairs to the kitchen.

“What are you hiding under your pajama shirt?” said Dassie.

It was useless to ignore them; the twins could ask and ask until you were forced to say something or go insane.

“My notebook. I’m looking up a recipe.”

“You don’t have baking today,” said Dassie. “It’s not your week.”

Esti pretended not to have heard but Dini wasn’t letting her get away with it.

“I know what you’re doing. It’s a surprise for Auntie Shevi ‘cos she just passed her exams.”

This was too agonizingly near the truth to be ignored.

“If you really want to know—” she began, without any idea of what she would say.