by Laura Riley
Rick gathers the unassembled furniture and stacks it up against the wall.
Panting, Seth looks at Rick, who’s methodically placing fixings in the correct bags. “Looks like you’ve built up a sweat. Do you fancy a beer to cool down?”
Rick flips Seth the finger but doesn’t need asking twice. The men head downstairs.
Ellie sits on the bed; I walk over and join her. “Do you like the colour I chose for the walls?”
She glances around the room, scrunching her nose. “It’s okay.”
“Just okay?”
“Something’s missing.”
I laugh. Something is missing—my easel for one, my paints for another. “Go on,” I prompt.
Her blue eyes widen. “It’s the fishes, fishes live in the sea.”
I look around. “And I suppose the blue walls are the sea.”
She claps her hands. “I want fishes.”
How can I magic fish?
I smile and jump from the bed. I turn over a blue instruction manual. There’s writing on one side, but the back is blank. A blunt pencil lies nearby. Ellie slides off the bed and is kneeling by my side.
Her eyes are filled with interest as I begin to sketch. Nemo comes to life before her eyes.
She snatches the manual from me and hugs it to her chest. “I love it. Can we colour him in?”
I stand, dusting down my dress. “Sure, just not right now. I need to find my crayons. When I do you can help me.”
Ellie wraps her arms around my thighs.
We turn, hearing footsteps on the stairs. Amber and Freja appear in the doorway. Amber opens her handbag and pulls out an iPad.
I look past them. “Is Chelsea with you?”
She shakes her head. “She had plans.” Tucking her long blonde hair behind her ears, Amber sits on the edge of the bed. “Do you want to take a look?”
The girls sit either side of her. I sit beside Ellie; she crawls onto my lap. I wrap my arms around her, holding her small body against me. I’m enjoying the closeness. It feels so natural. Maybe one day we can be a family.
Ellie pulls my arm. “Look at that one, Lizzie.”
I glance down at the screen. Ellie and Seth are standing in a three-dimensional image. The green screen they were photographed in has been replaced by a crystal-blue ocean. Nemo is kissing Ellie’s nose, Dory is in Seth’s open hand, and a school of fish are in the distance.
“Wow, Amber, that looks amazing.”
She nods. “Thank Photoshop.”
Ellie leans forward, flicking though the images. “I want that one,” she says with complete certainty.
Before I get a chance to look at the photo she selected, Amber hugs the device to her chest. I’m about to demand she show me when Rick calls up. “The pizza is here.”
Ellie and Freja race ahead. When the girls have finished eating, Seth grabs Ellie’s toy box from the lounge and hauls it upstairs to the loft room.
Rick eats the last slice of pizza. The four of us sit in the lounge chatting and drinking. We don’t feel like friends, we feel like two couples, meeting for the evening whilst our daughters play together upstairs. I know Ellie isn’t biologically mine, but that doesn’t stop the strong maternal feelings I’m experiencing when I’m around her.
We take it in turns checking on the girls. By nine pm we can no longer hear their echoed voices and the floorboards above stop creaking. Rick goes up to check on Freja and returns moments later with her asleep in his arms.
“Ellie?” Seth questions.
Rick tilts his head to the side, closing his eyes.
Amber stands, finishing her glass of tonic water. “Guess it’s time we call it a night.”
Rick and Amber bundle Freja into her booster and we stand in the doorway and wave them off. I can feel Seth’s body pressing against me. When the car pulls off the driveway he reaches over my shoulder and slowly closes the door. His arms snake around my waist and he turns me round to face him.
He tugs at the hem of my dress. “This has been driving me crazy all night.”
He places a hand either side of me, trapping me against the door. His lips press against my neck, his tongue making small circles before he licks and sucks the bare skin. He pushes his groin against me, his cock deliciously hard. My sex is throbbing, and instinctively we begin grinding against each other.
Who knew dry-humping could feel so good?
I cry out. Seth places a hand over my mouth.
“Do you think you can be quiet?” he breathes into my ear.
No.
“Mmm-hmm.” I nod, but I know I’m a terrible liar.
He backs away, readjusting the waistband of his jeans. “Fuck. We can’t, not with Ellie upstairs. I should call for a taxi.”
“Why don’t you stay? I’ll go check on her if you pull out the sofa-bed. We can snuggle up in bed and watch a film.”
He rubs his hand over his beard, then stands on the bottom stair, his head tilted slightly as if trying to listen. “Okay. But I’ll go and join her in bed when the film finishes. She’s co-slept with me since her mum left, she can’t wake up in a strange place alone.”
Seth
I wake up next to Ellie. She’s asleep, asleep between me and Lizzie. I sit bolt upright. Rubbing my eyes, I glance around. The three of us are in the lounge lying on the sofa-bed. Last night’s wine glasses remain on the mantel next to the clock, which tells me it’s six-thirty am.
Fuck. I clasp the blanket in my fist, squeezing it tightly. How could I have been so damn irresponsible? I didn’t join Ellie in the loft room in the double bed as planned. I specifically said I was going to be there when she woke up.
This is the last thing I need. It will only confuse Ellie. I’ve never had another woman in bed with me, that is except for Ellie’s mother. Will she think Lizzie is her new mum?
I look at my little girl, who is fast asleep. I play out all the scenarios in my head. I loose the blanket and take a deep breath. I just need to get out of bed and carefully pick her up. I’ve lifted her many times when she’s been asleep and she’s not woken up.
Okay, I can do this.
I’ll carry her up to the loft room where she’ll wake up next to me. Problem solved.
Holding my breath, I push the blanket aside, pivot my body so that my legs are on the floor. Good, she’s still asleep. I slide one arm under her legs and the other under her neck. I pull her against my chest and slowly begin to lift.
“Hi, Daddy.”
Jesus fuck almighty. I never understood the saying ‘to jump out of one’s skin’ until now. My sudden movement causes a half-asleep Ellie to become fully awake.
I glance at Lizzie, who is sitting up watching our exchange. Her eyes are wide. Shaking her head, she places her palm over her face.
Ellie looks from me to Lizzie. “Is it time to get up? I want pancakes.” Ellie wriggles out of my arms and saunters her way to the kitchen.
“Seth,” Lizzie says, reaching for my arm, which I pull away. She looks hurt.
“Shit, Lizzie, I’m sorry.” Standing in my boxers, I scramble to put on yesterday’s clothes that are lying on the floor.
Lizzie jumps out of bed—thank God she put her pyjamas on last night. She uses her fingers to brush her hair into place, which doesn’t work. It seems her bobbed hair is a classic bedhead. Every time I’ve seen her first thing in the morning it has been totally wild.
She drops her hand and uses it to rub the top of her arm. “I’m, erm, I’m going to have a shower.”
“You have to make pancakes first; Daddy always burns them.”
I turn in the exact moment I’m pulling my trousers up over my thighs. “Lizzie, you don’t have to—”
“It’s okay, I’d like to. I might not have pancake mix, but I can make you an omelette, if you’d like?”
Ellie nods and holds her hand out for Lizzie. I catch her glance as she walks past me and joins Ellie.
The morning is surprisingly normal. I was so worried that it would be aw
kward, but it’s anything but. Ellie helps Lizzie crack the eggs and cut the mushrooms. I even get involved tossing the omelette, pancake-style. Every so often my arms find their way around Lizzie’s waist, and she mirrors my gesture.
Lizzie, Ellie and I just work. I never envisioned letting another woman in our VIP club for two, but the more time I spend with Lizzie, the more I see her being part of my life, our lives.
I plate up the omelettes and carry them over to the red breakfast bar where we sit. I drum my fingers on the top and sigh.
Lizzie gazes up from her plate. “Is everything okay?”
“Not really, no.”
“What’s wrong?”
I glance around at the high-gloss red units, shaking my head. “I hate the colour of your kitchen.”
Her knife and fork clang as she drops them on her plate. “That wasn’t funny.”
I bring my index finger and thumb together, leaving a small gap between. “It was a little funny.”
She folds her arms. “I like the colour red.”
“Yeah, I got that impression when I stepped into your lounge and took a look at the colour of your furniture. All you’re missing is a damn disco ball.”
Lizzie snort-laughs into her glass of orange juice. Ellie laughs, though I’m sure she doesn’t know why. Fuck it, I start to laugh.
We eat our omelettes in total silence, though when we lock eyes with one another we laugh. Knowing Ellie can’t see, I reach under the table and place my hand over Lizzie’s leg. Her hand rests over mine, and we lace our fingers together. I want to bring up this morning to Ellie, but if I do, I’d be making a big deal out of something Ellie hasn’t even mentioned. I decide to say nothing, well, at least until she asks.
“I best head off,” I say, pushing the chair out from under the breakfast bar. The time is approaching seven-thirty am. Rick will be here any moment to begin the carpeting. Not just that, Darcy will be waiting at home to look after Ellie.
Lizzie stands and helps Ellie off the ladder-backed chair. “Will I see you later?”
I shrug. “Maybe.”
I send Ellie upstairs to retrieve her shoes. She returns minutes later clasping the photo Amber printed off for her yesterday.
“Are you going to show Daddy the picture?”
Ellie doesn’t answer, but her hold tightens.
Lizzie stands in the open doorway watching as I strap Ellie into the van. Shutting the passenger’s side door, I blow Lizzie a kiss, which she catches. I get into my van feeling like the richest guy in the world. I honk my horn and reverse off the driveway and watch her get smaller and smaller in the side mirrors.
Ellie’s quiet on the drive home. In my periphery I can see the green background of the photo she’s looking at. Every time I turn my head to steal a glance, she angles the photo away from me.
I wasn’t going to mention this morning to her, but I can’t say nothing. My daughter’s mental health is paramount to me. I want to know how she’s feeling, I need to know.
Flicking the indicator, I clear my throat. “Ellie.”
She folds the photograph unevenly, makes a sort of square and places it in the breast pocket of the dress. “Yes, Daddy.”
“So, last night you fell asleep with Freja, because she’s your special friend. Well, Daddy fell asleep with Lizzie.”
“Because she’s your special friend.”
“Right.” This is easier than I thought.
“Lizzie is my special friend too, so does that mean I get to fall asleep with her when we have our next sleepover?”
“Yes.” Wait, what?
I pull into a side road when it registers what she asked. I can’t afford the lines to get blurred, it’s all about managing expectations. “No, no more sleepovers at Lizzie’s. Last night was a one-off.”
She scrunches up her face. “Why not?”
“Because—” I falter on my words.
Why the hell not?
How do I explain in a way a five-year-old would understand? I ponder for a few minutes. She sits in silence awaiting my answer.
“Because I said so.” Oh, my God, I’ve turned into my mother.
“That’s not fair.” Crossing her arms, she turns in her chair so that her back is toward me.
Well, that didn’t go exactly as I’d hoped. Maybe it would have been better if I had said nothing.
I turn into my street. Darcy’s car is parked on the driveway, of course it is.
Ellie unfastens her seatbelt, and I wrap my fingers around her wrist. “Hey, baby, do you think the sleepover at Lizzie’s could be our little secret?”
She bites her bottom lip and she looks up as if giving my request some thought. “On one condition.”
On one condition? What the hell’s my sister letting her watch on her iPad?
I eye her speculatively. “Go on.”
“I want a Dory teddy to go with Nemo.”
“Done.”
The last thing I need is a lecture off my sister. I’ll tell her about me and Lizzie in my own time, on my terms.
I jump out of the van and I unlock the front door. Darcy is waiting in the hallway, sitting on the bottom step.
Here goes.
She’s sitting with one leg crossed over the other, rocking her foot from side to side. “Your beds haven’t been slept in. Where have you been?”
I think of a few believable scenarios, like we got up early and went for a drive, or Ellie felt unwell and I took her to the pharmacy to grab some medication. I open my mouth to reply—
“We had a sleepover at Lizzie’s,” Ellie announces, clearly forgetting our little deal.
Darcy’s hazel eyes narrow. The pace she’s rocking her foot increases. She leans forward, resting her chin in her hands. “And where did you sleep?” She raises an accusing brow.
Ellie glances at me and back to Darcy.
Don’t do it, kid.
“I slept with Daddy and Lizzie.”
Ellie is completely oblivious to the shit show she’s created for me. Humming, she skips past us and into the lounge. I can’t be angry with her. I instilled into her how important it is to tell the truth.
I toss my keys onto the floor and make my way into the kitchen. I can hear Darcy’s steps as she follows closely behind. I’m waiting for it, the moment she starts pecking my head.
Let’s get it over with. I turn and, were Darcy taller, we would be standing nose to nose.
“What the hell do you think you’re playing at? Don’t you think Ellie is damaged enough?”
I walk around her, grab the OJ from the fridge and drink from the carton. I do this purposely knowing Darcy drinks orange juice when she’s minding Ellie. I swish it around my mouth a few times before placing it back in the fridge and close the door. I casually lean against the worktop and fold my arms.
Darcy places her hand on her hip and takes a long breath in.
The doorbell chimes.
I quirk my lip. “Saved by the bell.”
My joke isn’t well received. She flares her nostrils. As I jog out of the kitchen, I turn around to see her tipping the orange juice down the sink and tossing the empty carton into the bin.
I don’t bother looking through the peep hole when I get to the front door. Shit, if it’s a sales guy I’ll invite him in for a coffee. I unlock the latch and open the door.
My eyes go wide, and for once I’m rendered speechless.
Cole’s standing on my doorstep. His face is flushed and his jaw is set.
“Cole—”
He lunges forward, grabs my t-shirt and yanks me into him so that we’re nose to nose. I can’t miss the strong scent of alcohol on his breath. “I should rearrange your fucking face,” he seethes.
I shove my head forward so our foreheads crash together. “I’d like to see you try.”
Our gazes are locked on one another and the intensity in his stare is bordering on erratic.
“Can you take this outside, boys? There’s a child inside.” My sister’s voice slices
through the tension, and the grip Cole has on the collar of my t-shirt loosens. Darcy is standing in the doorway; her expression is hard as she watches our exchange.
Plastering on a smile, he wraps his arm around my neck, squeezing. “Nothing’s going on, Darce, just a heart-to-heart amongst friends.”
I return his gesture, wrapping my arm around his shoulder. I squeeze his neck, making sure to match his force.
“Seth was just going to invite me in for a drink, weren’t you?”
I want to tell him to go home and sober up, but he’s got something to say, and I should hear him out.
Darcy shifts so that she’s occupying the centre of the doorway, making it harder for Cole to enter.
I wag my finger in the air. “It’s okay, sis.”
Reluctantly, she steps aside. Cole removes his arm from around my neck, and I lead the way into the house. Darcy closes the door behind us. “In the kitchen. I’ll keep Ellie in the lounge,” she tells us.
Cole barges past me, making his way into the kitchen. I follow close behind, shutting the door.
Cole leans against the worktop, crossing his arms over his chest. I’m not going to patronise him and ask what this is about. I rub my hand over the back of my neck and let out a deep sigh. “Look, man—”
“I don’t want to fucking hear it. My little sister, how could you?”
With clenched fists, he spins around and thumps the kitchen cabinet directly behind him. His fist makes a dent. He cries out, immediately shakes his hand, cradling it in the other.
“I bet my face wouldn’t have hurt that much,” I say, grabbing an ice pack from the freezer, tossing it in his direction. He makes no attempt to catch it, and it falls to the floor. “Mate—”
“I’m not your fucking mate,” he spits out. “I’m here to give you this.”
He paces forwards, and I clench my fists in readiness. His hand disappears in his pocket and he pulls out a chequebook.
Well, that was unexpected.
He opens it and tears out a cheque which has been pre-signed and dated. He shoves it against my chest. “A blank cheque. There’s fifteen thousand in that account. I trust we have an understanding.”
When I don’t take it from him, he tucks it into the collar of my t-shirt.
