The Starter Home

by Bryony Fraser

  Damn it. That smile.

  ‘Thanks! They look great.’ All I could see was Benni watching us from her office door, pretending to talk to Miks – who was also watching us out of the corner of his eye. As if it was totally normal to just bring in unrequested books you thought your colleague might happen to like, on a whim. I turned back to George, telling myself, whatever I did, not to look at his forearms. ‘Is there anything else?’

  He actually blushed.

  ‘Yeah, actually – I was wondering if you felt like that drink, too? That we’d talked about. Maybe tonight? I know you said you didn’t fancy it before, but I just wondered if anything had changed.’

  Damn it again. And it’s not like I had anything to go home for; in fact, Jack was off in New York on his own romantic break. Thinking of what Kat would advise me, I decided to take the plunge.

  ‘Sure. I’ve got to run a few errands after school, but do you want to just email me the place and I’ll meet you there? At seven-ish?’

  He gave me that smile again, and I gave him a thumbs up like a gameshow winner. But I’d agreed to it – Kat would be delighted, having worn me down – and I’d have to actually turn up; I could hardly stand up someone in my own school. Benni was watching me strangely, so heaven knows what faces I was pulling as I imagined all this. I winked at her. She smiled at me, and Miks leant in and gave me a sarcastic thumbs up. Oh well. How bad could the whole thing be?

  I decided to leave my marking for tomorrow, instead hurrying out of school to meet Esther for a coffee.

  ‘I can’t stay long, I’m afraid.’

  ‘Good to see you too, dearest sister. I can’t stay long either, I’ve got to get William to bed – but what’s your excuse?’

  I laughed. ‘Kat’s finally worn me down. I’m going on a date.’

  Esther’s eyes opened wide. ‘Whoah. Jesus. That soon? And is he worth it?’

  ‘He looks it.’ We both laughed. ‘But I’ve got no idea if he actually will be.’

  Esther looked at me, suddenly serious. ‘Zoe. Are you sure you’re ready?’

  I stirred milk into my coffee. ‘I don’t know. Kat says I should just get on with it.’

  ‘You do remember that Kat’s the one who set fire to her bedroom carpet trying to dry her nail polish with a hair dryer. I don’t think we should worry too much about what she has to say about your love life.’

  ‘I know. But maybe she’s right. Maybe it’s the best way to get over all this. Plus, Jack’s off on some jet-setting trip at the moment, with a woman from his work—’

  ‘Ah.’ Esther nodded. ‘Right. Got it.’

  ‘What?’ I asked. ‘It’s unrelated. Sort of.’

  ‘Doesn’t matter. And listen,’ she said, leaning forward over the table, her voice dropping, ‘I wanted to talk to you about Kat, anyway. I think you’re right about her. I don’t know what’s going on, but she’s acting oddly: won’t talk to any of us about her work and freaks out if I mention Chuck. I think maybe we ought to pay her office a little visit.’

  ‘Under what guise? We all bring boiler suits and clipboards and pretend to be checking the electrics?’

  ‘We’re just going to meet our sister after work. Nothing sinister.’

  ‘You make it sound sinister.’

  ‘Have it your own way. But think about it. I’d like to see her there. She won’t tell us anything of her own will, so we’ll just have to drag it out of her. Anyway, come on – drink up. You’ve got a date to get ready for.’

  I dawdled in the café after Esther left. Then it was suddenly ten to seven and I knew I’d have to hurry to get to the bar on time – it was better this way, I thought, so I didn’t dwell on the whole thing too much. By the time I arrived I was sweaty, hair frizzing and my shirt sticking to my back. Just beautiful. But George greeted me with the same huge smile and fussed around me, taking my bag, getting me a seat, ordering me an ice-cold gin gimlet, asking me about my day, listening to my answers. It felt like getting into a deep, relaxing bath in a rich stranger’s home – I knew it wasn’t completely right, but I wasn’t about to give up the pleasure of it.

  After only an hour, though, the overwhelming sense that the homeowner was about to return was crippling. I was almost squirming in my seat.

  ‘George, look, I’m sorry, I—’

  He smiled. ‘It’s ok, Zoe. I know that you’re going through some stuff at the moment.’

  ‘Yeah, it’s …’ I screwed up my face. ‘I thought this would be ok, but … I don’t think it is yet. I’m sorry.’

  He pushed the remains of my second gimlet towards me. ‘Come on, let’s finish up.’ He looked at my face. ‘It’s ok, really!’

  I knocked back the last of my gin, and held out my hand. ‘Friends?’

  ‘Friends,’ he said, shaking it.

  My sole consolation, as I rode the Tube home, was that I’d proven Kat wrong: it was way too soon for me to start dating again. And proving Kat wrong was comfort enough.

  When I got back to the flat, everything was calm and dark. Thank god, I could just climb into bed in the peace and quiet and get tucked up before I really became miserable about the date.

  I kicked off my shoes, headed through the bedroom to the bathroom, dropped my clothes in the laundry and climbed into bed in just my pants, thinking again just how much I loved this particular spot. Good mattress, good sheets, good duvet, goodnight. I was just falling asleep, drifting off on a cloud of gin and resolutions, when I felt a heavy hand creep across my stomach and pull me across the bed.

  My murmured ‘What the—’ became a full-throated scream by the time I’d leapt out of bed, and was only magnified by a pasty figure on the other side of the bed doing exactly the same thing. It took several seconds to realise that the figure was Jack, looking just as terrified as me.

  ‘WHAT ARE YOU DOING?’ I roared.

  ‘WHAT AM I DOING? WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?’ he roared back at me, shaking.

  ‘I THOUGHT THERE WAS A MURDERER IN MY BED!’

  ‘LIKEWISE!’ We both looked at each other, semi-naked.

  ‘Fine, I thought you were a sexy murderer,’ Jack said, half smiling. ‘I was asleep. I thought you’d —’ His voice cracked a bit. ‘I thought you’d come back to me.’

  I tried to ignore what he’d said, just snatching a blanket around me and backing towards the door.

  ‘What are you doing here?’

  ‘The meetings were moved. We’re flying out the day after tomorrow now.’ Jack’s sigh sounded just how I felt and a part of me wanted to hug him, to get back into bed and let him pull me across to him, to fall asleep curled up together.

  But that wasn’t what we’d agreed. It wasn’t the path we were on now.

  ‘This was just a mistake. Sorry.’ I left our bedroom and shuffled in the blanket to the sofa, where last night’s pillows were still piled up. I didn’t even remember falling asleep.

  At school the next day, I had emails from Kat every ten minutes, asking about last night’s date, until I finally caved in and called her at break time.

  ‘Well? How was it? Are you in love? Is he perfect?’ she said, before I’d even said hello.

  ‘It was great. Until it wasn’t.’

  ‘Did he try to put it—’

  ‘No! God, Kat. No. It just … I wasn’t ready.’

  ‘You wouldn’t give him a—’

  ‘Stop it!’

  ‘I’ve got tonnes of these, I can go all day.’

  ‘Stop it.’

  ‘That’s what he said. Sorry. Carry on.’

  ‘It was really nice. He’s a really nice person. But we’ve agreed to be friends.’

  ‘What a waste.’

  ‘It’s not a waste. He is a really nice person. And I would like him as a friend.’

  ‘A friend with benefits, maybe.’

  ‘No, no benefits. I’m not ready for benefits. I did tell you that.’

  ‘Fine. But I’m just going to email you over a picture of me to show him in case
he’s looking for something with a little more—’

  I hung up and sat back at my desk, hoping the school’s email filter would catch whatever she sent over.

  I got home just after seven. I’d been so busy with Year 11’s Bunsen burner experiments that I hadn’t even considered the wall of awkwardness that would be waiting for me back at the flat. In fact, I’d spent the bus ride home trying to get Iffy on the phone – it had been months since I’d seen him – but eventually I’d just got a text back from him saying, Sorry, hard to talk at the moment, shifts at the hospital crazy. Maybe soon x

  Sure. Maybe soon. I knew what that meant from Iffy. I knew that this was his tactful way of keeping me at arm’s length.

  At home, Jack was cleaning the kitchen with his usual zen-like thoroughness, something I used to love watching. Now, there was nowhere to hide – the sofa directly faced the huge hatch onto our little galley kitchen, and it seemed pretty clear that the bedroom was off-limits until my bed shift came around again.

  I sat on the sofa with the TV on and tried to be invisible, but eventually Jack came to a stop and, without looking at me, said, ‘So you were out late last night.’

  ‘Yeah, sorry again about that. I didn’t mean to wake you.’

  ‘By scaring the shit out of me.’

  ‘I honestly didn’t think you’d be there. That was hardly my fault.’

  There was a silence.

  ‘Well, was it a good night?’

  There was an even longer silence. It stretched out, then swelled up until it filled the room, and I had serious concerns that I would no longer be able to breathe.

  Then I squeaked, ‘Yeah. It was fine, thanks.’ I could feel my face changing from soft copper to glowing garnet and I worried my whole head might explode.

  Jack came out of the kitchen and stood between me and the TV. ‘You can just tell me, you know.’

  ‘Tell you what?’ Then I thought of Jessica, and their work trip abroad that he was about to enjoy. Deep breath. ‘Fine. I was out with someone from school. It’s not anything serious. But it was a guy. And … well, that’s it. You now know as much as I do.’ Apart from me telling that guy that I wasn’t ready to go any further, that is. But Jack didn’t need to know that.

  ‘Name?’

  ‘Sorry?’

  ‘I don’t know his name. I’m assuming you do.’

  I flicked through the channels, hoping maybe Jack would get distracted and just forget his question. He stood in front of me, unmoving. ‘George.’

  ‘George.’

  I stopped. ‘How can you say the guy’s name sarcastically? What’s the point of that?’

  ‘I didn’t do anything. Anyway, it’s no skin off my nose. The sooner you meet someone else, the sooner you can be out of this flat.’

  Ouch. But I wondered what else I deserved. I’d started this ball rolling. It was my fault if I stood in front of it and got crushed.

  I heard the bedroom door slam, and wondered if our room exits were making the plaster crumble in Upstairs Jan’s flat too. Well. What fun. And well worth the single date that wasn’t even going anywhere anyway.

  I spent the rest of the night on the sofa, watching garbage on TV and trying not to think about Jack or dating or Kat’s NSFW selfies, and Jack didn’t come out again all evening. Great.

  EIGHTEEN

  Three years earlier

  At Christmas, it was clear that between his distant father and his absent mother, Jack had nowhere to go for the day itself. As soon as Zoe realised, she begged him to come to her parents’ for the festivities. If she made it sound as though he was doing her a favour, he would come. When she asked her parents the next day, out of Jack’s earshot, they were so delighted; they’d wanted to ask since his parents’ split last year, or even since they’d first met him three years before. ‘Lovely,’ her mum said. ‘Great stuff,’ her dad said.

  That year the presents were more thoughtful than Zoe had managed in years: a set of soft fine-knit wool socks for her dad, wrapped around a smart leather nail-file kit; a pair of earrings for her mum, picked by Jack to match a necklace he’d complimented her on previously, and a pair of baby-soft sheepskin slippers; lipsticks, books, keyrings, sunglasses and candles for her sisters and brother-in-law and the centre of attention, William the new baby in the house (although he had fewer lipsticks and candles, and more books and hats). Jack and Zoe shopped for them together, although Jack chose many of the gifts himself. When Zoe picked something out, Jack, with his eye for colour and feel for texture, suggested something even better – not always more expensive, but more special, better matched to each recipient. He wrapped the gifts himself, too, in tissue paper and thick purple ribbons, having already sent his annual hardback historical thriller to his dad and nothing to his mother. Zoe brought them both mugs of hot toddy while he wrapped everything and turned up the carols on the radio.

  Even as the family had grown larger, with new members added, Christmas Eve was always spent under the family roof. There was a Christmas Eve spread, with a whole salmon, and baked yam and cheese, followed by mince pies made by each of the sisters with the initial of the baker on every individual pie. Then the whole family bundled up in their warmest clothes to knock on neighbours’ doors, where now-adults who had been once-children would join Kat, Ava, Esther and Zoe in the streets, rolling their eyes good naturedly at one another, as they stood together to sing Christmas songs for their parents and grandparents. Jack stood with Ethan and baby William, and wondered how he’d got so lucky. Zoe, trying to make Kat laugh as they strained for the descant, looked at Jack and marvelled at her own luck.

  On Christmas Day, William’s stocking had split open on one side, due to each adult sneaking down in the night to squeeze in more items. While Zoe’s mum got her sewing box out to mend it, Zoe watched as Jack took William from her. He sat down on an armchair and played peekaboo, pulling faces and entrancing baby William.

  ‘My son is available for hire, you know. Good rates for family members,’ Esther had said when she saw how well they got on together. Jack had laughed, and asked if she needed him back, but she backed away, saying, ‘No no, as long as he’s not crying, you can keep him, please.’

  Zoe had the overwhelming feeling again that Jack would be a wonderful father, whenever it might be, and maybe she’d like to be the one to witness it first-hand. At that moment, Jack had looked up at her, as if he could hear her thoughts, and they’d both laughed as they caught one another’s eye.

  After that, Jack spent every Christmas with the Lewis family: his father was often away on festive cruises, remarkably, and his mother wasn’t around either. Every year, Zoe’s dad would make the same joke, that Ethan and Jack had become like the children they’d never had, and Zoe or her sisters would say Don’t you mean sons you never had? and their dad would give a guilty chuckle and say, with exaggerated care, Ah, yes, sons, of course. And every time Zoe and Jack would smile at each other. A perfect Christmas, every year. And every year, it was all they ever wanted.

  NINETEEN

  Now

  I’d given Esther the impression I didn’t want to go to Kat’s office, that I didn’t want to get involved with Chuck again. But the more I thought about it, the more sense it made: Kat wouldn’t answer any questions about work, and was being awfully vague when she did mention it. I’d go without Esther, straight after school, while she and Ava were still at work. Just one sister, visiting another, checking out the lay of the land. No big deal. I took a bus over there after school and hung around outside for a while before I plucked up the courage to go in.

  The receptionist looked up at me with a plastic smile. ‘Can I help you?’

  ‘Yeah, hi. Zoe Lewis, to see Kat Lewis?’

  ‘Sure. Take a seat.’ She picked up the phone and muttered into it, and I had the strong sense it wasn’t Kat she was calling. Sure enough, it was Chuck that came through the frosted glass doors, strutting towards me and sitting too close on the leather sofa.

  ‘Zoe!
It’s such a pleasure to see you! Who knew we’d keep meeting like this! It must be fate.’

  I found it hard to look at him. ‘Is Kat around?’

  ‘She’ll be somewhere round here. She works hard. Like a dog, you know?’ I felt my face burn. ‘But let’s get you a coffee! Miranda, can you get Zoe here a coffee, please?’

  ‘I’m fine, thanks. I’m just here for my sister.’

  ‘Sure, sure.’ He leant even closer, his voice growing quiet. ‘The thing is, Zoe, your sister is my concern now. Do you understand? I’ve got plans for her, and if you care about her future, I’d recommend keeping your mouth shut about anything you think you remember about you and me.’

  ‘What I think I remember?’

  ‘Yeah. Whatever impression you got back then, you were just a kid with a crush and I can’t take any responsibility for how you felt.’ He gave me a pained-looking smile. ‘It’s just not fair to put that on me. You do understand, don’t you?’ He leant back again, clapping his hands together. ‘Your sister, on the other hand! There’s a woman who’s going places! As long as we all look out for her,’ he said, putting his hand on my knee, ‘I really think she could go far.’

  I stood up. I could feel Miranda’s eyes on me from her perspex reception desk. ‘Leave her alone,’ I said, as calmly as I could with my heart pounding in my throat.

  Chuck stood up, smiling at me. ‘I can’t, Zoe – I’m her boss. And she’s a grown woman. So I’d really recommend keeping your nose out of our business. Both work,’ he smiled wider, ‘and personal.’ He looked back over his shoulder at Miranda. ‘Miss Lewis is just leaving.’ He took my arm, and led me, dazed, to the door. ‘I mean it, Zoe. I’m strongly recommending that you keep your nose out. And let’s keep this conversation between us, yeah?’ He smiled at me – a warm, sunny California breeze of a smile. ‘Great! Good to see you, Zo.’

  I was out in the street, the door closed in my face. I didn’t know what was worse: that Kat didn’t know I’d been coming, so wouldn’t think to look for me out here, or if she’d happened to see the whole thing.