by Erin Green
‘Yes, I did.’ Esmé released the door handle and folded her arms.
‘Did you? Oh sorry, in that case sorry for overestimating your naïvety but I felt certain that the actual situation had gone right over your head and that we’d been rude enough to laugh when we really shouldn’t have, though it was mighty funny.’
What the hell was he on about?
‘It was fine. I wasn’t offended by your laughter, nor Dam’s… there’s no need to apologise.’
Asa nodded slowly, his eyes scrutinised her. Esmé averted her eyes from the tattoo by staring at his nose.
There’s a spot forming under the surface by his nostril. Should a female housemate point out such a detail? Would she have pointed that out to Andrew? Not usually necessary, he always scrutinised his skin after a shower or a shave.
A wry smile began to dawn across his lips, it developed into a dimple within his left cheek.
‘What?’ snapped Esmé.
‘Nothing, just admiring the view.’
‘Well, don’t!’ Dear Lord, please remove this man from my doorway. I have no idea what his game is or what the hell he’s apologising for and somehow, he bloody well knows all of that.
‘Crystal.’
‘Yes, that was her name, quite a nice name actually.’
‘Do you think?’
‘Yes, it conjures up lovely images.’
‘Go to school with many Crystals, did you?’
‘No, but if I had, I’d probably have been friends with her…’
‘Really? What lovely images have sprung to mind then?’
‘Oh loads, dancing lights, sparkly Christmas trees, glitzy earrings…’
‘Hookers.’
What did he just say?
‘Hookers?’
‘Yeah, hookers, ladies of the night… you know?’
‘No, I don’t know actually.’ Esmé’s tone lifted to indignation.
‘I initially thought that by your ‘see you again’ line as she left.’
Esmé’s mouth performed the perfect goldfish impression for several seconds, as Asa watched from the doorway.
‘But given that you knew… I feel really daft wanting to apologise for mine and Dam’s rude behaviour of belly laughing at you when all the time you were fully aware of her occupation, the cash in hand situation and were simply playing it uber cool. Sorry, my mistake. In fact, you should probably give lessons on just how coolly you handled that, such a poker face, because we could have sworn that you had no idea, when actually you did!’ Asa shoved his hands into his jeans pockets and sauntered off along the landing towards his room next door.
Esmé stood speechless as Asa’s bedroom door closed softly. Hers followed suit, then she leant against the closed door before sliding down its entire length to her haunches, her hands raised to her mouth.
OMG! This would take some getting used to. A hooker? Russ or Jonah? How embarrassing if she’d barged in and interrupted them last night?
She remained in a crouched position for a lengthy time before stifling her giggles as she heard herself repeat, ‘see you again’ in a light fluffy tone.
Chapter Eleven
Day 4: Acknowledge your true values
The sound of childish wailing drifted from downstairs.
Esmé wrenched the warm duvet over her head on her Sunday morning lie-in. Obviously, someone’s family were visiting for an early morning house call. She could image a young nephew or niece running amuck downstairs while flapping parents were begging them to be quiet in Uncle…
Which name filled the blank? Uncle Dam? Uncle Jonah? Uncle Asa? Uncle Russ?
She gave a snigger and plumped her pillow, snuggling down for an additional thirty minutes of sleep.
The wailing continued, louder than before.
She chastised herself for moaning, before flinging the duvet back and getting up and dressed. What did she expect in a shared house? With the comings and goings of five adults, surely peace, harmony and Sunday lie-ins couldn’t be guaranteed.
‘Morning,’ sang Esmé, entering the kitchen to find a little boy aged about three devouring toast at the table, his dungareed legs and football slippers swinging gleefully. Asa was cooking sausages at the stove, while Kane swept up dried Coco pops scattered across the floor tiles.
‘Morning,’ said Kane, looking up from his housework.
‘Hi,’ shouted Asa, as he turned round from the grill pan.
‘Who owns the little one?’ she pointed to the dark haired boy and pulled a quizzical face.
‘Russell’s little lad,’ said Kane.
‘Really?’
‘A previous relationship. His mother dropped him off for his visiting day. Toby, meet Esmé, my sister,’ said Kane, quite formally for a child to adult introduction.
‘Hi, little fella,’ said Esmé, heading for the kettle. ‘You’re early?’
‘I dropped by to see how you were…’ said Kane, adding. ‘Mum’s really concerned, that’s all.’
Esmé began to make her morning tea. So, he’s talking to me today.
‘I know but I need some space to get my head straight before she starts with the questions.’
‘Where’s Russ?’
‘In bed, I think,’ answered Asa, without taking his eyes off the sausages.
Esmé screwed her face up, looked at Toby and then at Kane.
‘Are you serious?’
‘Yeah,’ said Kane, emptying his Coco pop collection into the bin.
‘His child is visiting and he’s in bed?’
‘Shhhh,’ said Kane, and dragged her through the archway towards the sink area. ‘Little piggies.’
‘I know but still, that’s taking the piss, Kane… a guy should look after his child, not leave it up to his housemates or even his best mate. That’s not right. It’s not fair on the little piggy as you just called him… The mother wouldn’t be happy, would she?’
‘No,’ answered Kane, in a monotone.
‘No,’ added Asa.
‘Sorry… but I’m not having this.’
‘Esmé, please…’ is all she heard of Kane’s protest.
In two seconds she flew from the room, darted to the first landing and rapped sharply on Russ’s door. She was determined to follow her plan, and the calendar had said to acknowledge her values, so she would.
‘Russ!’
‘What’s wrong?’ came his sleepy reply.
‘This… and by that, I mean you still being in bed while little Toby is downstairs, it really isn’t acceptable,’ she began. ‘And before you say it’s none of my business, I beg to differ. I live in this house and I know that any mother would not be too happy thinking she’d dropped him off, as you obviously haven’t collected him and now you aren’t even up nor dressed and my brother has taken responsibility to feed him breakfast… which I presume he has naughtily thrown all over the kitchen floor and then demanded toast.’
‘Uh!’
‘Russ, are you listening to me?’ she rapped on the bedroom door again, purely for good measure.
‘Esmé, go away!’ shouted Russ.
‘How dare you!’
‘Please?’
‘No, I have every right to come up here and say my piece.’
‘Esmé, please leave it.’
‘I won’t. You’re expecting the rest of us to entertain your child in our house and then when his mother appears later you’ll want to take all the glory for being such a great father… well, I don’t think that’s right!’
Silence. Today’s task was far easier than she’d imagined.
‘Russ, you had better get up and get dressed now, otherwise I’m phoning the mother – this isn’t acceptable… you’ve got responsibilities and you need to start putting his needs before yours.’
She could hear shuffling behind the closed door.
She stepped back from the door as it was wrenched open.
‘And later when she gets here I am going to…’ her voice died, as a woman’s face and body appeared,
tousled hair, panda eye mascara, with a bed sheet draped around her body.
‘Do you mind? We’re trying to… you know?’
Looks like she would need to get used to such encounters, thought Esmé.
She pushed past the tousled siren and entered Russ’s darkened bedroom.
‘And this is absolutely shocking… you’re up here… doing this…’ she screamed, as Russ quickly grabbed the quilt making himself decent for his unexpected guest. ‘Have you no shame? Your little boy is downstairs, eating toast made by my brother – who, may I add, doesn’t even live here and… and…’ Esmé stopped as the woman climbed back into bed and nuzzled up to Russ’s body. ‘Shame on you – that’s all I can say!’
Esmé marched from the room, her arms flailing, a look of disgust etched on her features. She descended the staircase to find Kane standing open mouthed at the bottom.
‘What did you say?’ he gasped.
‘I told him straight. He has definitely gone down in my estimation… this is shocking. How any man can be up there with some tart while his little boy is eager to start his visiting day is beyond me. What a lowlife?’
‘You didn’t say that though, did you?’
‘Of course, I did. I told him.’
‘And… then what?’
‘Then nothing, she climbed back into bed without batting an eyelid about his paternal responsibilities… shocking.’
‘There’s no need to cause trouble – you’ve said your bit.’
‘He needs to be a father and step up to the plate,’ Esmé said, walking back to the lounge, where Dam was watching morning tv. ‘Don’t you think so, Dam?’
‘Sorry, I heard the shouting but thought I’d keep out of it.’
She flung herself down in the armchair.
‘Russ and Toby… it’s not right, the little boy is playing football alone in the garden – I’ve a good mind to phone the mother and tell her.’
Kane stood at the door and stared at Dam.
‘You haven’t got her number, have you?’ asked Dam, muting his programme.
‘No, but that’s not the point… if I had, I would.’
Kane sighed. Dam sighed.
‘I could phone his mother,’ she added.
‘Whose?’
‘Russ’s mother… She’d go mad if she knew…’
‘No!’ cried Kane. ‘I wouldn’t.’
‘Yeah, I agree with Kane,’ added Dam. ‘It might spoil the surprise.’
‘What surprise?’
‘Russ is taking Toby round for a surprise visit later today.’
‘Oh,’ said Esmé, as she hugged the sofa cushion to her chest. ‘I suppose it’s not her fault her son is some low-life father that can’t respect his kid… oh, I see what you mean, why should she pay the price for his low morals.’
‘Exactly!’ chimed Kane.
‘That’s more like it,’ said Dam, glancing at Kane.
Esmé played with the seam of the cushion.
The wind had been taken from her sails.
‘But still, she should know that he’s not doing his job as a father.’
‘No!’ chorused the men.
‘Seriously?’
‘We’ll have a word with him… won’t we, Dam?’
‘Oh yeah, a strong word with him about his responsibilities,’ added Dam.
‘You can tell him what I said,’ she added.
‘Word for word,’ said Kane eagerly.
‘Absolutely,’ muttered Dam, as he turned back to focus on his tv programme.
Chapter Twelve
Day 5: A financial make-over
‘What the hell?’ cried Marianne, as Esmé charged into the offices of Stylo Stationery at just gone nine o’clock on Monday morning.
‘Sorry, I’m late… I promise it’ll never happen again and… what’s that?’ she pointed at the helium balloon dancing on its ribbon beside Penny’s computer. The balloon bobbed revealing the message ‘Congratulations!’ ‘Oh yes, long weekend, long story.’
Marianne fell back into her seat, wide-eyed at Esmé’s new hair.
‘Do you like it?’ Esmé theatrically framed her face with her hands.
‘I think I’ll like it more after an explanation… where have your auburn locks gone?’
‘Same way as the—’
‘Congratulations! Show me, show me!’ cried Penny, entering with the tea tray and quickly depositing it on the first free desk before grabbing Esmé’s left hand.
‘Urgh! Problem.’ Esmé grimaced. ‘No ring.’
‘No proposal?’ asked Marianne, wincing.
‘No, nothing. Over. Finished. Totally finito!’
‘No!’ exclaimed Penny, supporting herself on the nearest chair back. ‘Are you serious?’
‘Ladies, you won’t believe what’s happened since Thursday.’
The three women gather around Esmé’s desk, cradling their coffee for a minute by minute update, totally ignoring the ringing phones, the Monday morning routine and the arrival of Ollie, the new IT intern.
‘I swear on my life, you’ve shocked me. I wouldn’t have brought that if I thought there was any doubt… I feel a prat now, hoicking that in on the bus,’ said Penny, pointing to the metallic balloon.
‘And a waste of a tenner,’ added Marianne. ‘And now, you’ve hooked up with four guys in a house off the Hagley Road – excellent move.’
‘Marianne, don’t… they might get through this… they might…’
‘No way. I’m done. Of all the guys I’ve dated… I never thought Andrew would cheat on me.’
‘And there was a fair few in your younger years,’ adds Marianne.
‘Well yes… of course, but I never saw this coming and so, it’s right what they say… you never know someone, ever.’
‘Oh, come now, I know my Jimmy,’ said Marianne. ‘I know he’ll never marry me, but he’ll never cheat and he’ll probably sweet talk me into having a baby someday.’
‘Yeah, same here. I know my Keith… as miserable as he is, moaning about everything the kids or I do in and around the house… he’d never cheat in our marriage,’ adds Penny.
‘Looks like I’m the lucky one then… unfortunate enough not to see this coming, not to be playing the field and to have put all my hopes and dreams into one basket!’ said Esmé, her voice cracking. ‘So, that’s the news. Hence, the new hair and why I arrived late.’
‘Seriously, he wasn’t right for you… I don’t care what Penny and your mother said about him… You’re now free to spread your wings and have a bit of fun,’ said Marianne.
‘You wait seven years to tell me that?’
‘Yep, long time actually. Where was the romance? The passion? Andrew was a dead squid.’
‘Marianne!’ cried Penny, a look of horror on her face.
‘I’ll be honest, I never liked him the first time I met him… too… what’s the word? Arrogant! Up his own arse!’ declared Marianne, opening her desk drawer and grabbing a packet of custard creams. ‘Here… let’s celebrate!’
Esmé leant across the desk and took two.
‘Marianne, you really shouldn’t comment,’ whispered Penny, refusing a custard cream.
‘No, seriously, I thought, oh no, a total mistake,’ explained Marianne, stuffing biscuits into her mouth quicker than a Guinness book of records attempt.
‘Hmmmm, cheers,’ added Esmé, nibbling the layers of her first biscuit.
‘This might be a rollercoaster break up… so don’t comment so freely,’ repeated Penny.
‘A what?’ muttered Marianne.
‘Weekend break up but they’re back together on a high by Wednesday… a rollercoaster break up.’
‘No way,’ mumbled Esmé.
‘No one knows what the future has in store.’
‘I do… he got caught doing the dirty in our bed. Her name’s Sadie and I hate her guts.’
‘Sadie… oh, one of those, is she?’ asked Marianne, curling her lip.
‘One of what?’ asked Pe
nny.
‘The new generation of Sadie, Selina and Sapphire – all slinky and kinky and chasing your man.’
‘Anyway, it’s over… I can’t forgive him and I certainly won’t forget.’
‘You don’t deserve that,’ said Marianne.
‘You’re right. I deserve better.’
‘You’ll be joining us at the bus station each evening?’ said Penny, moving onto safer territory.
‘Yep, new bus route, new bathroom routine with a guy called Asa and…’ Esmé pointed to her throat. ‘That awful knot that sits just here and won’t allow you to swallow or eat properly, reminding you that your heart has been broken.’ Esmé’s eye filled with tears.
‘Oh lovey, this will pass,’ said Penny, jumping up to give her a hug.
‘It’ll probably pass as painfully as a kidney stone but yep, it’ll pass,’ adds Marianne, standing to join in the group bear hug.
‘And in the meantime,’ came Esmé’s muffled voice from under the commiseration of her colleagues. ‘I need to arrange to clear my belongings out of the… his apartment, visit the bank, change my address… urgh, the list is endless.’
‘And your mother?’ asked Marianne.
‘Urgh! Don’t remind me. As much as she hated the rental apartment… and pushed for a mortgage commitment…’
‘The woman doted on Andrew.’ Marianne completed the sentence as Esmé began to sob.
*
‘In nine years… I have never been late for work, Mrs Stylo. I can only apologise on this occasion and promise it will never happen again,’ panted Esmé, determined to convince her steely eyed boss sitting opposite.
‘Mmmm,’ growled the old lady, eyeballing her carefully. A back drop of metal filing cabinets and a withered spider plant failed to contradict the ‘You don’t have to be mad to work here… but it helps’ sticker that had constituted office humour for the last three decades.
When did bosses become this difficult? Stavros Stylo, Esmé’s original boss and the late husband of this witch, had been the warmest, kindest man she’d ever encountered. Since his untimely death from cancer a few years ago, not a working day had gone by that Esmé hadn’t recalled with fondness the day he interviewed her. A simple four questioned interview, at that.