by Archer, Kiki
“Wasted journey I guess.” He shoved the bunch of flowers onto the table. “I’ll get back to work.”
“Wait! Noah’s over there.”
Karl glanced towards the bouncy pillow and scratched on his stubble. “No, he’s having fun. I’ll see you at home.”
“Now?”
“This evening. I’ll be late.” He turned around and stared at her coldly. “Oh, and Connie, if this is what you do all day then I think it’s about time you went back to work.”
Maria waited until the man was out of earshot. She whispered quietly. “Do you want to come and play in my field for a bit?”
Chapter Eleven
Upon lifting the lid of the slow cooker, aromatic steam wafted up Connie’s nostrils. She inhaled the lemon and garlic scent and smiled to herself. Surely this would soften him? She’d ripped the recipe out of a battered copy of the Sainsbury’s magazine that had been propped alongside other equally-as-old issues of Reader’s Digest and WellBella in the newspaper rack at the dentists. That’s how her day had progressed: fun with Maria, chastisement from Karl, then praise from the dentist. Noah’s teeth were in perfect condition and he’d opened wide whilst sitting still throughout the whole ten minute ordeal; quite a feat according to Dr. Singh who actually had an acute fear of three-year-olds himself.
She had then rushed to the supermarket, picking up the chicken breasts, the expensive bottle of white wine and the other ingredients that would make her apology even more noteworthy. She inhaled once more and used a wooden spoon to coat the breasts with more juices. The recipe had guaranteed a “succulent mouth-watering melange of chicken, lemon and garlic, served best with mushrooms and rice”. She looked at the clock and checked the time. It was nine p.m. already; how much later was late? She’d already pre-fried the mushrooms and given some to Noah on toast for his tea. The sizzling could often set off the smoke alarm and the last thing they needed was a crying child to contend with, so she’d pre-empted the drama and cooked them first. She’d also laid up to avoid the clinking of cutlery and the crashing of plates. Nothing was going to distract them from their discussion.
Emptying the pan of mushrooms into the slow cooker and stirring them in, she nodded to herself; because it would be a discussion. Yes, she’d probably have to make a long-winded apology first, but then they’d discuss. They’d hash it all out. She replaced the lid on the cooker pot and looked around at the room. It was still a small and basic kitchen, but the candles looked pretty and the lighting was low. Re-straightening the napkins and glancing back at the clock she knew there was nothing more she could do until he was home. Maria’s advice had been to ignore him and make him see sense. How dare he come in, catch the tail end of a conversation that wasn’t even Connie’s fault, then rebuke her in front of a stranger. In Maria’s opinion it was he who should be apologising, not her.
Connie sighed and crept into the lounge, thinking about turning on the TV. She shook her head. It was too big of a risk. If Noah was up when Karl came home then he really wouldn’t be happy. She turned instead to the cupboard under the stairs. Bonnie wasn’t calling her but there was nothing else to do. She paused. What if Karl and his mother were right? What if the whole thing was just ridiculous? Did anyone truly want to read about trolleys, supermarkets and people pretending to be people they weren’t?
She sat down and stared at the screen. Maybe Bonnie would get her comeuppance? Maybe Bonnie would learn that there’s no virtue in living a life that’s not really yours. She lifted her fingers to the keyboard, all too aware of that feeling.
‘There’s a fine line between being yourself and bettering yourself. People have to change if they want to grow, don’t they? And growth’s what life’s about, isn’t it?
My reflection in the mirror’s confusing me. My makeup’s brighter and my hair’s bigger, but my eyes are the same: shy, unsure, hesitant. I step closer and stare. Who am I trying to be? What am I trying to prove? I snap myself out of it. Bonnie, you’re doing this. Mark’s the first person to take an interest in god knows how long, and this is what he wants. This is who he wants. This is the person he met down the wine aisle with the monkfish in her trolley. Big, bold, brash and bolshie. The type of woman who reapplies her red lipstick whilst she’s wining and dining. The type of woman who orders the salad and leaves half on the plate. The type of woman who cares about wine lists and not about cost. That’s what I’m doing. That’s who I am.
I hear the beep of a horn and race to the window. A sports car or a luxury 4x4? I hide behind the curtain and take a look. Maybe he’s ordered a limo? I stare again and wait for the beep. He’d insisted on driving so he must want to show off. I feel a buzz of excitement as the horn sounds again. My eyes follow the noise. What’s that? A Ford Fiesta? He’s driving a Ford Fiesta? What’s he doing driving a Ford Fiesta? I drive a Ford Fiesta! People like him don’t drive Ford Fiestas! He spots me and waves at the window. I draw back, thrown by this insight.
By the time I arrive at his car he’s out with the passenger door open.
“Hi Bonnie, great to see you.”
“You too, Mark.” We share an awkward handshake.
“Shall we?”
I look at the open door and worry that my heels are too high to make an elegant entrance into the car. “Thank you,” I mumble, as I struggle in.
Mark shuts the door behind me and moves around to his side. He climbs into the clapped out old banger and turns his body my way. “We don’t have to do this.”
I frown. “What do you mean?”
“The second date. The meal out. I’m not what you’re wanting. I’m not what you thought.” He sighs. “I saw it in your eyes when you looked out of the window. I need to be honest with you, Bonnie. I never approach women like you. I don’t know my fine wines. I don’t know my monkfish. I was bluffing when I spoke to you and I hardly ever eat steak.” Mark shrugged. “I saw you and I liked you. You can’t blame a bloke for trying. I bustled my way through our last evening of drinks but I can’t keep this up. I’m just me, Mark, a regular bloke with a really crap car.”
I stare at the handsome man sitting next to me. “The monkfish was nasty. Can I go change my shoes?”’
Connie pushed herself away from the screen and smiled. Bonnie would get her happiness and Mark would be her perfect companion. They’d laugh about their meeting and tell each other the truth, slipping into a perfect harmony of compatibility and togetherness. That’s all people ever really wanted, wasn’t it? Someone to get on with. Someone to be real with. Someone they didn’t seem to constantly disappoint. Connie touched her phone to look at the time, her eyes drawn to the two flashing messages she’d somehow managed to miss. One was from Karl, simply saying: Looking more like 11pm. The other was from Maria. She smiled as she opened it.
I hope your barn’s not become infested with rats and therefore uninhabitable. If that happens please remember that my field is big and green and always welcoming to a bouncy Shetland pony and her young foal.
Connie hit reply. You think I’m a Shetland pony?
The ping back was almost instant. Yes, slightly short and very fluffy. What animal am I?
She stifled her laugh. I think Ryan was right when he described you as a midnight black panther.
The reply came quickly. Aren’t panthers dangerous?
You could be VERY dangerous. Connie blushed the minute she’d sent it.
??? Whatever do you mean ???
She closed her eyes and scrunched up her face. What did she mean? What was she saying? She typed quickly. I open up to you. I never open up to anyone. That might be dangerous.
Oh, is that all?
Connie bit her bottom lip and smiled. Was Maria flirting? Was she flirting? She was about to reply when another message pinged in.
You must open up to Ryan?
I do, but not in all ways. Ryan and I have some weird history that’s far too long, complicated and embarrassing to go into, but yes, he knows bits.
I like knowing bits.
Connie smiled and replied. I’m enjoying getting to know bits about you too. Today was fun.
It was. Would you like to come for a play date at mine tomorrow?
At Mariano’s?
No, at my house. My coffee’s just as good as Mariano’s.
Connie heard the click of the door and typed quickly. Sounds great, send through the details. Speak tomo x She put down the phone and jumped off her seat, rushing quickly into the lounge. “Hey, it’s nice to have you home,” she said, smiling at Karl.
“Is it?”
“Yes.” She signalled towards the kitchen. “I’ve made us a meal.”
“I’ve already eaten.”
“Let’s just sit and have wine then. I’ve set up the candles.”
Karl ran his fingers through his short dark hair and shook his head. “I don’t want this, Connie. I don’t want any of this.”
“It’s fine, it’ll keep. I’ll just put the food in containers and the wine can stay in the fridge.”
“No, I mean this.” He lifted his hands to their surroundings. “You clearly don’t want it either and I’ve no clue what we’re trying to prove.”
“I do want this.”
“No you don’t. You’re slagging me off to anyone who’ll listen. You’re rarely physical with me in bed.”
Connie shook her head. “They’re the only times I’ve ever said anything bad about you, and I was only ever joking.” She paused. “And we have a three-year-old in the house. Things like that are difficult.”
Karl slumped onto the sofa. “So I coincidentally walk in every time you bad mouth me, do I?”
“It wasn’t bad mouthing, but yes, you do! And you can’t blame me for,” she blushed, “that other thing. You’re always tired from work.”
“No I’m not. But it doesn’t matter. I’ve made up my mind. I think we should separate.”
“What?” Connie shook her head in disbelief and knelt at his feet. “Where has this come from?”
“I’m not happy and if you’re honest with yourself you know you’re not either.”
“Look at me.” Connie took hold of his knees. “Why can’t you look at me? We’ve got Noah.”
He kept his eyes averted, staring into the middle of nowhere. “That’s not enough.”
“So you leave me? You leave us? You kick me out? You take my son? What does this mean, Karl. You’re scaring me. I can’t do this alone.”
He finally looked down at her wide eyes and placed his hands on her shoulders. “You have been doing this alone. We both know that already. I’m bad at this. I’m just making things worse.”
“You’re his father.”
“And financially I’ll provide a great life for him.” He sat up straighter and nodded his head slowly as if realising something for himself. “I’ve decided to take charge of the new office in Manchester.”
“With Louise?”
“No, of course not. She’ll be here at the London office. I’ll work up there. I’ll come back at the weekends and see Noah then. I’ll get myself a flat. I’ll sign all this over to you.”
“We want you, Karl, not your money.”
“You’ve never had me. Work’s always had me, and if I’m honest, work will continue to have me. I’m Karl Collis of Collis and Killshaw. It’s what I’m good at. It’s what I know. I’ve learnt to play to my strengths and being a father just isn’t one of them. We met in a bar. We had a few dates. You fell pregnant. None of this was planned.”
“No! I gave myself to you.”
“Only because you were fed up of waiting for Mr Right.”
“That’s so unfair.”
“It’s not. It’s honest.”
“So you just abscond?”
“No, if I commit to seeing him every weekend he’ll get much more time with me than he’s ever done before. Everything will work itself out.”
“How can you possibly say that?”
“Everything will be the same, Connie.” He smiled and tried to massage her shoulders. “Things will be better.”
“For who?”
Karl’s silence answered her question. She pulled herself upright and walked towards the stairs. “This is you, Karl. Not me.” She held onto the bannister and narrowed her eyes. “You cock.”
Chapter Twelve
Connie kept a tight hold on Noah’s hand as she pressed the doorbell once more. It was one of those posh ones with a round ivory button and black marble surround that chimed an old-fashioned “ding-dong” out of the house. She looked up at the building. Everything about it was grand. There were four sets of double windows layered one above the other with an impressive balcony at the very top. Adding this to the wide driveway set back from the road and the Shoreditch postcode, she knew this tall and imposing terrace had a two million pound price tag, at least. Connie made a mental note to check on Zoopla later. She stood still and waited, her anxiety rising by the second. Why was she here, standing gormlessly outside a mansion that made her own pitiful dwelling look like a self-build garden shed? This wasn’t her world. She didn’t belong. She could never invite Maria back to hers for a play date in her poorly decorated 3x3 metre lounge. Whatever would she think? Her panicked thoughts were interrupted by the click of the lock. She watched as the large round doorknob turned in slow motion then tried to catch her breath, somehow managing to hold it instead. Maria appeared, looking as majestic and radiant as ever.
“Connie, hi. How are you? Come in, come in.” She smiled down to Noah. “Hi there, Noah. Alice is so excited to see you.”
Noah shared none of his mother’s apprehension and raced straight into the house, chasing an impatiently waiting Alice through the huge open-plan hallway with his own roaring greeting. “Lissssssssssssss!”
Connie shouted after him. “Shoes, Noah!”
“It’s fine, it’s fine. Come in.” Maria kissed Connie’s cheeks and drew her into the house. “Did you find it okay? Of course you did, you’re here, but you know what I mean. Can I take your coat?”
“Thank you, and thank you for having us.”
“Pleasure, pleasure; please do come in. Let me get you a drink. I’ve laid out some snacks as well. Would Noah like a drink? I’ve set up the play room with puzzles and games so they should be fine entertaining themselves.” She stopped and stared at Connie. “What are you smiling at?”
Connie eyed her with suspicion. “Nothing, but I’ve never seen you looking flushed before.”
“I’m nervous.”
She laughed. “Really? I thought it was just me?”
“Why would you be nervous?”
Connie shrugged. “Why would you be?”
Maria batted her on the shoulder. “Oh just give me your coat and come in.”
“I am in.”
“I mean come in and make yourself comfortable. Let me show you the lounge.”
Connie handed over her jacket and took in the impressive expanse of the hallway with its large wide staircase and aesthetically curving bannisters. “Your house is just gorgeous,” she said, smiling back at Maria. “Now tell me why you’re nervous.”
The endearing laugh made an appearance. “It’s your first visit. Don’t you get nervous when people come round to yours for the first time?”
“I don’t invite them round to mine.”
“Well you’re inviting me.”
Connie shook her head. “Nope. You’ve got more square footage in this entrance hall than I have in my entire house.”
“Size doesn’t matter, Connie. I thought you straight girls knew that?”
“My doorbell’s plastic.”
Maria gritted her teeth and shook her head. “Okay, you’re right. If your doorbell’s plastic then I’m not coming round.”
“Good. We can host all of our play dates here instead. Which way am I going?” She puzzled at the choice of doors that led off from the hall, smiling as her host finally pointed her in the direction of a tall one on the left. She entered what she could only assume was one of the
main lounges and gasped. “Oh good god, you could host the whole playgroup in here. This is huge!”
“Size does matter to you then?”
“If it’s all gorgeous like this, then yes!” Connie couldn’t take in the room fast enough. “Oh Maria, this is beautiful.”
“Please, take a seat. I just want you to be comfortable.”
“Let me take off my shoes.”
“No, honestly it’s fine. The floors are oak, your shoes are no problem.”
Connie bent down and untied her laces. “Fine as they might be I want to do one of those skids that Tom Cruise does in Risky Business.”
“Doesn’t he wear just his underwear in that scene?”
“Done.”
“Oh Connie, you’re great.” Maria was laughing again. “I’ve been smiling since the moment I met you.”
“You know what?” Connie pulled off her shoes and looked up at her beaming friend. “I think I have too. But shall we have a coffee first, before I strip off?”
“Still nervous?”
She tucked her shoes against the skirting board. “If I ever had to get naked in front of you I think I’d have to blind you first with a flashlight.”
Maria looked down at Connie’s jeans. “Is that a torch in your pocket or are you just pleased to see me?”
“Does that work with lesbians?”
“Everything works with lesbians.”
“Really?”
“And I bet you look lovely naked.”
“No, honestly I don’t.”
“And of course we like protruding bits. We just don’t like them when they’re attached to men.”
Connie’s cheeks flared. “Okay my nerves have officially gone, overtaken instead by embarrassment.”
“Sorry. I forgot you don’t like the uncomfortable lesbian banter, do you?”
“No, no, I do, I love it.”
Maria smiled. “You love it?”
“I didn’t mean it like that. Oh look, you’re making me all nervous again.” Connie tried to ignore the teasing and walked instead to the tall window that was streaming glorious summer sunshine into the room. “It’s just strange how we get on so well. I worry when we’re apart about our differences, but the moment I’m with you it’s like we just fit. We get along, no matter how mismatched we truly are.”