by A. E. Radley
“Mike was staring at you,” Emily pointed out as she sat on the stool at the breakfast bar.
Olivia reached for her hair to search out a stray lock that she thought was out of place, clearly the reason for any staring.
“Because he thought you were hot,” Emily clarified.
Olivia blushed and lowered her hand. “You’re being silly.”
“I’m not. I just want you to know because he continued staring at you in front of the boys, even after I gave him the stink eye. Just… file it away in your brain for now.”
Olivia poured wine into both glasses silently, considering the information she had been given.
“I’ll be distant with him,” she decided as she handed Emily a glass.
Emily nodded gratefully and took a sip of the cold liquid. “So, if you had three lollipops and I gave you another three lollipops, how many lollipops would you have?”
“Six.” Olivia frowned. “Obviously.”
Emily chuckled. “I’m joking, Olivia. It was cute, seeing you teaching Aidan. For someone who used to be so scared of children, you’re doing pretty well.”
“Aidan is a sweet boy. Henry told me he cried when he realised he had a math lesson, I wanted to help him.”
Olivia leant backwards onto the work surface and swirled her wine glass in front of her as she thought.
“I enjoyed it,” she admitted. “I still find children frightening, though.”
“Everyone does,” Emily confessed. “You get used to them.”
“I think I will,” Olivia agreed. “It had me looking forward to volunteering. If I can spend time with groups of children, then maybe I can make a difference? Maybe in twenty years I won’t have to correct people when they hand me change in a shop.”
“I don’t think you’re going to singlehandedly reverse this country’s math literacy issues, but it’s a start,” Emily said.
She took a deep breath and looked at Olivia. It was time. She had to tell her, no matter how much she wanted to bottle it up and pretend it wasn’t happening.
“Maybe you could help me with a math problem,” Emily suggested.
“Of course,” Olivia replied with a frown.
“If I had three lollipops and then I had no lollipops, how many lollipops would I have?” Emily knew it was a cop-out, but she didn’t know what else to say.
“None,” Olivia told her. “Who is taking your lollipops?”
“Nicole. Well, not exactly, but she told me that my lollipops are going away.”
“Going away? Nicole?” Olivia put the wine glass on the countertop. “I don’t understand what you’re saying.”
“There’s no more work for me,” Emily said sadly.
Olivia continued to look confused.
“Lollipop was code for work. I’m sorry, I should have just said it outright, but it’s really hard.” She took a deep breath and sat a little higher on the kitchen stool. “I had lunch with Nicole yesterday, and she told me that there are no projects at her company. And she’s asked around and there is nothing in New York. So, that’s that.”
Olivia blinked. “But… you… you love your job.”
“I do. I did. It’s just… it’s not working out. Theatre isn’t making as much as it used to, and people are being more conservative with money. Less productions means less people, more competition. And I’m the new kid on the block.”
She picked up the wine glass and took a gulp.
“Really, I’m lucky,” Emily continued. “I had the chance to work in my dream profession. I saw behind the curtain, literally. I’ve learnt a lot. But it couldn’t go on forever.”
Olivia continued to stare at her, clearly unsure what to say.
“It’s okay, you can be happy. I’m sure you’re happy.” Emily chuckled. “Not spending so much time away from you and Henry will be really nice.”
“But you’ll miss it,” Olivia said. “Of course, I’m ecstatic for you to be home. But I want you to be happy, and if that means only seeing you for a few hours every weekend, then that’s fine.”
“Well, it’s all irrelevant now.” Emily threw back the last gulp of wine. “It’s done. I can officially say that I worked on a theatre production and that a version of one of my plays showed in the West End of London. Who else can say that?”
“Not many people,” Olivia admitted. She still looked at Emily with something akin to pity.
“Smile, Olivia,” Emily instructed. “I’ll be home. I don’t know what I’ll be doing, but I’ll be home.”
Olivia tried to smile but failed. “I’m sorry, it’s a little bit of a shock.”
“Same,” Emily admitted. “I always knew that this was temporary, but I just assumed that I’d work on more projects with Nicole. I assumed I’d be doing this for a few months, not a few weeks. But, that’s one of the many things I learned. The theatre moves fast.”
“And there are no jobs in New York? Or in other London theatres?” Olivia asked.
Emily shook her head. “I had a long chat with Nicole. She gave me a list of everyone she spoke to and told me about some potential people to approach, but she didn’t seem very hopeful. The chance of a paid position is pretty much non-existent.”
“Then volunteer, like me,” Olivia suggested.
Emily bit the inside of her cheek hard. She was emotional, and she didn’t want to lash out at Olivia. Technically, it was a very generous offer and one that came from a place of love. But Emily needed to make her own way and she needed Olivia to understand that.
“I need to earn money,” Emily said softly.
Olivia looked like she wanted to argue but wisely stopped herself.
“It’s for the best,” Emily said. “I won’t have to travel. Henry won’t grow an inch every time I see him.”
“Mommy, look,” Henry called out as he barged into the kitchen like a streak of lightning.
He had a piece of paper in his hand and slapped it into Emily’s stomach.
“For you,” he announced.
Emily looked at the drawing. “Wow, you’re getting so good. Do you want to talk me through this?”
“Yep,” Henry agreed readily.
Emily angled the drawing so he could reach to point.
“You, me, Olivia, Captain McFluffypants the Seventh, Tiny, and Miss Costa.”
Emily smirked and looked up at Olivia. “It looks like Miss Costa lives with us in this big house you’ve drawn?”
“She does,” Henry agreed.
Olivia looked panicked and opened her mouth to defend herself.
“But, Miss Costa doesn’t live here,” Emily told Henry. “She just came over for dinner that one time, remember?”
“Yeah,” Henry said. He squished up his face as he looked at the drawing.
“Maybe this building isn’t a house at all. Maybe it’s a school?” Emily suggested. “And we’re taking Captain McFluffypants to see your classroom?”
“Yes, that’s it!” Henry announced, pleased with the solution.
“I thought so,” Emily said. “Maybe you should draw a whiteboard and a playground so everyone knows that it’s a school?”
“But that will have to wait until tomorrow, it’s time to get ready for bed now,” Olivia interrupted.
Emily looked up at the clock on the wall and sighed. Time moved so quickly, she barely felt like she had any time to see Henry. But at least that would change soon.
31
Emily carried the tray of drinks out to the patio table. Irene quickly stood up and helped her to place the glasses and jugs onto the table. She thanked her, and the two women started to pour drinks.
Emily looked up towards Olivia and Tom who were walking around the vegetable garden, deep in conversation. She decided to leave them to it.
“And then McFluffypants wouldn’t come down,” Henry told Lucy.
“Wow, what did Olivia do?” Lucy asked.
Henry, who was in Lucy’s lap, turned to face her. “She got a broom and she tried to push him from
the top of the bookshelf. But he just jumped over the brush.”
“This cat of yours sounds like a hassle,” Irene told him with a smile. “Maybe you should send him back and get a goldfish instead?”
“Nah.” Henry shook his head. “I’m going to go and play with him, in case he’s lonely. Because he isn’t allowed outside with us.”
Emily watched him slide from Lucy’s lap and pick up his drink.
“Make sure you keep the door closed,” Emily advised. “You don’t want him running off.”
“I will,” Henry called behind him as he walked back into the house.
Emily flopped onto a chair. “That cat is the devil.”
Lucy and Irene laughed.
“Surely he can’t be that bad?” Lucy asked.
Emily held up her hand to show some deep scratch marks.
“What did you do?” Irene asked.
“Me? It was him!” Emily said. “I was just minding my own business when he came flying out of nowhere and launched himself at me.”
“He can probably detect that you’re scared,” Lucy said. “Like dogs do.”
“At least you only see him on weekends,” Irene chuckled.
“Yeah, well…” Emily took a deep breath. “I’m not going to be working in London for much longer.”
Lucy frowned, and Irene’s mouth formed an O.
“Why’s that?” Lucy asked.
“There are no new jobs in London, and the project I’m working on is nearly finished. It was always going to be temporary. I had hoped to move onto something else, but it’s just bad timing. Still, I get to be home more with Henry, Olivia, and the devil cat.”
Irene picked up her glass of juice and took a sip. Emily respected that Irene knew when silence was appropriate. Irene wasn’t one to sugar-coat things, remaining quiet rather than blurting out platitudes.
“It’s for the best, I’m sure,” Lucy said.
Lucy was the opposite to Irene. Lucy would search high and low for the bright side, the silver lining in any piece of potentially disastrous news.
“You’ll find something else, and, in the meantime, you can spend more time with Olivia,” Lucy continued. “And Olivia did mention that you’re both on the path to getting her pregnant now.”
Irene looked up with interest.
“We are. Olivia’s been racing along. She’s been cleared by the doctor, and now we’re choosing a sperm donor. In fact, that’s our plan for this evening. Never did I think I’d spend an evening looking at profiles of men who I think would be a good fit to impregnate my wife!”
“It’s a different sort of evening in,” Lucy agreed.
“How many do you have to choose from?” Irene asked.
“Olivia’s already streamlined the list down to five.”
“Has she done a pros and cons list?” Lucy chuckled.
“Oh yes, of course!” Emily laughed.
“She’ll be pregnant before you know it, and then you’ll forget all about working for a while. You’ll be too busy looking after Olivia and then a new baby.” Lucy clapped her hands together. “Oh, it’s so exciting! And if you ever need a babysitter, you know where I am.”
“Yes, you’re right in line behind the grandmother,” Irene told her with a grin.
“No arguing over who gets to babysit.” Emily laughed. “At least not until we know we’re having a baby.”
“Everything will work out; things have a way of doing that,” Irene told her. “The work thing will seem like a blessing in disguise soon, I’m sure.”
“I just can’t get my carrots to grow properly. They’re skinny and weird looking,” Tom complained.
“Carrots are challenging,” Olivia agreed. “People think because they are so common that they must be easy to grow, but they are very fussy. Try the soil I told you about, it might help. And I’m serious about knowing the temperature of the soil.”
“I’ll get the thermometer,” he promised.
Olivia walked over to the tomato plants and picked a couple of weeds out that had sprouted near them.
“It’s a shame about Emily,” Tom said conversationally.
“It is,” Olivia agreed. She wasn’t sure what was a shame, but she knew that Tom would elaborate soon enough.
“She loves writing. And working in the theatre, it must have been a dream come true.”
“It was.”
Tom leaned on the shovel that was wedged into the ground beside the celery.
“Can you imagine having a dream job and then having it taken away? That would be hard.”
Olivia could imagine. She loved her job until Marcus took it away.
“It’s like if someone told me I couldn’t fly anymore. Not being able to pilot a plane would be crushing.” Tom tutted and shook his head. “Still, bad timing, I suppose. I know Em; she’ll put a brave face on this, but it’s probably destroying her on the inside.”
Olivia didn’t understand Tom’s need for dramatics. He always seemed to overreach a point. It was a trait she also saw in Lucy, so suspected that was the cause. The two played off one another.
“I don’t know about destroying her,” Olivia said.
“Brave face,” Tom told her.
Olivia looked over to the patio table where Emily, Lucy, and Irene were all laughing about something.
“Very brave,” Olivia mused. “She’s probably relieved to be honest.”
“Why relieved?”
“While no longer working in the theatre has definitely been a blow, at least she no longer has to worry about the stalker.”
Tom frowned in confusion. “How so?”
“She won’t be in London, so… no stalker,” Olivia spelt out.
“Maybe so, but that won’t suddenly go away,” Tom pointed out. “In fact, if it’s not properly resolved… will it ever go away?”
Olivia looked down at the tomato plants, lost in thought. Tom was right. Emily may put a brave face on things, but Olivia knew that the whole stalker business terrified her. Even when she was at home, she was different. Every noise, every curtain twitch had Emily grabbing Olivia’s arm in panic. She tried to claim that it was just nerves, but Olivia had noticed a change. Would that change go away if the identity of the stalker was never revealed?
“And the stalker won’t be happy to hear that Emily’s leaving,” Tom added.
Olivia snapped her head up to stare at him. “What do you mean?”
“N-nothing,” Tom stammered.
Olivia knew exactly what he meant. Worse, she agreed with him. It hadn’t occurred to her before now. How would Emily ever get over the fear of being stalked without finding out who the stalker was? It was all well and good saying that it was over, but was it?
She angrily ripped another weed out of the ground.
32
Emily heard Olivia arriving in the living room before she saw her. Which was strange, as Olivia was usually very graceful and calm. But as Emily looked up to see Olivia’s face, she realised she was anything but calm.
“What’s wrong?”
“The cat’s a murderer,” Olivia said.
Emily put down her book and edged backwards. “It’s not a mouse, is it?”
“Worse.” Olivia looked around to ensure they were alone before producing Tiny from behind her back.
Well, it had been Tiny at one point. Now, the weathered giraffe cuddly toy was ripped to shreds, his eye hanging loosely on a piece of stuffing that hung from his gouged socket.
“Captain McFluffypants has killed Tiny the Giraffe,” Olivia said seriously. She took a breath as she realised what she had said. “And my life has become a farce.”
Emily walked over to the bottom of the stairs and looked at Tiny’s lifeless form.
“It’s beyond repair,” Olivia admitted. “That cat is a menace.”
“He is,” Emily agreed. “But Henry loves him.”
“Henry also loves Tiny. What’s he going to say when we tell him that one of his great loves has disembowelled his o
ther great love?”
“He’ll ask what ‘disembowelled’ means, and you won’t be explaining that one,” Emily told her.
An unfortunately timed news article had caused Henry to ask Olivia what waterboarding was. Just an hour later and one of Emily’s old Barbie dolls was taped to a ruler and being introduced to the toilet headfirst.
“He showed an interest in the news,” Olivia argued.
Emily let out a sigh. “Can we just agree to not discuss methods of torture with our son until he is at least ten? And then both of us will be present?”
“Fine. What do we do about Tiny? How do we tell Henry?” Olivia asked.
Emily bit her lip and took a step back. She’d hoped that she wouldn’t have to do this. Yes, Olivia was an adult, but she was also woefully bad at keeping secrets. And now Emily was in a situation where she was going to have to trust Olivia by showing her the inner workings of the most well-guarded magic trick in existence.
“Where’s Henry?” Emily asked.
“Colouring in his room. I managed to take Tiny before he noticed.”
Emily took hold of the stuffed animal’s broken form. She looked Olivia in the eye.
“I’m going to tell Henry that I’ve taken Tiny to be washed. It happens every now and then, so he won’t be suspicious. Don’t say anything. I’ll meet you in the bedroom after Henry’s gone to bed.”
Olivia nodded. “But—”
“No buts,” Emily said. “Operation Save Tiny is a go.”
Olivia closed Henry’s bedroom door and let out a relieved breath. He hadn’t asked once about Tiny, satisfied with Emily’s explanation that Tiny was in the washing machine and, yes, had been provided with the customary scuba gear.
She had no idea how they were going to break the news to him the next day. Olivia surmised that some kind of washing machine accident would be held responsible for the mangled toy. Henry would be heartbroken, so Olivia had been planning a week of activities that would help to cheer him up.
“Psst.”
She turned around. Emily stood in the doorway to their bedroom, gesturing for Olivia to follow her.
“Is he asleep?” Emily whispered.