Free The Fantastic Book of Everybody's Secrets by Sophie Hannah Page B

morning, professed to want to form a family with him and his wife. Tom sighed and pulled Selena’s advertisement out of his jacket pocket. He’d removed it from Tesco at five past eight, on his wayin, but he’d been too late. At least three people had already seen it, the three who would be joining Tom and Selena at the Beddford development’s show home this evening.
    Selena had suggested congregating there rather than at home, just in case any of the three applicants for feigned kinship turned out to be mentally unstable. ‘We don’t want them to know where we live if they’re nutters, do we?’ she’d said to Tom over breakfast. Briefly, Tom had suspected her of taking this sensible precaution and talking about nutters as a cunning way of presenting herself – by contrast, and falsely – as sane. But then he remembered that Selena did not have hidden agendas. So maybe she was sane; he’d always thought so.
    Tom had said nothing. Every molecule of his brain, every atom of his heart was opposed to Selena’s plan, but he found it impossible to protest, and this wasn’t only because of his usual reluctance to speak his mind. What stumped him was that Selena argued her case so well; logically, he couldn’t fault her. His objection stemmed from a combination of two fears: of the unknown (the new relatives) and of the unconventional (the plan to acquire new relatives).
    Thinking about it, Tom decided that the latter was the more serious problem for him. ‘Nobody does this!’ he’d wanted to scream at Selena. ‘Not a single person in the entire world has ever done this! I don’t want to be a freak!’ He could imagine what she’d say: ‘Imagine if Noah had been a chicken like you – there’d have been no ark. Imagine if Martin Luther King had said that to himself. Or Emmeline Pankhurst. I’m ahead of my time, that’s all. One day everyone’ll do it. Real, blood families will be as passé as natural childbirth and breastfeeding – two other bloody stupid ideas!’
    He looked again at Selena’s notice and shook his head. At the top, in capital letters, she had written, ‘DO YOU DESERVE A BETTER FAMILY THAN THE ONE YOU’VE GOT?’ Underneath, she’d elaborated. ‘Do your relatives continually let you down? Do they fail to meet your needsand support you in the way you’d like them to? Do you feel alone in the world? Or perhaps you really are alone, with no living parents, children or siblings, or at least not ones you’re in contact with. If so, then you’re in the same position as us. We are Tom and Selena Foyers, a married couple with two children. We have a large extended family but they fall way short of the satisfaction mark, and so we’re recruiting for replacements. Reciprocal support guaranteed. If you’re interested , ring Selena on 01238554899.’
    Tom had felt faint when he’d first read it; he’d phoned Selena at the show home, aghast. ‘Couldn’t you have put it more diplomatically? What if my mum sees it, or hears about it?’
    â€˜Your mum lives in Canterbury.’
    â€˜Yours doesn’t! Your parents live four streets away! And what about James, who works about two hundred metres from…’
    â€˜What about them?’ Selena had sounded mystified. ‘I’m not scared of them seeing my ad.’
    â€˜But they’d be horrified, devastated. They’d never speak to us again!’
    â€˜Yes, they would. If any of them sees it, I’ll just explain.’
    â€˜Explain what? What will you say?’
    â€˜That ever since the kids were born we’ve found their level of support disappointing, and we finally decided to take some action.’
    â€˜Oh, that’ll really help! That’s bound to pacify them!’
    â€˜Tom, pacifying our families is not my objective here,’ she’d said patiently,