Hooked on You

by Jenn Matthews

  “Why call him anything but Timothy?” Anna bit her lip and considered her plate, unsure whether she was hungry anymore. “Why use adjectives that might make me annoyed with you? You know how I feel about it.”

  Liam huffed and rubbed the back of his cropped hair. “I just don’t know the right language to use.”

  “I know.” It doesn’t make it any less annoying. She sighed deeply and chose to let it drop. What’s the point? He’s been making mistakes like these since we started dating. It’s not like I’m going to change him and I suppose he doesn’t do it maliciously. She was thankful Liam and Timothy had barely interacted back at the house.

  Their main courses were over. She placed a hand on her belly and pondered having a dessert. I have crochet at seven. And I could do with refraining from anything too fattening, especially as I’ll probably indulge hugely when it comes to Christmas. She didn’t much like her tummy, which protruded a bit more than she cared for and made her feel shy when she undressed in front of Liam.

  By the time the waiter arrived and handed them each a dessert menu, Anna lifted a hand in a definite “no” gesture.

  Liam smiled at her and pushed her hand back to the table. “We’ll both have a crème caramel each.” He nodded reassuringly at Anna and sipped from his glass of water. “We always have the crème caramel. You love it.”

  She pushed away a pout and stared at her napkin for a moment. It took a measured moment before she could lift her head to return the smile. “That’s true. It is nice.” He doesn’t mind, I suppose, if I carry a bit of extra weight. And it is nice to have a treat now and then.

  On the way from the pub to Ollie’s shop, she glanced towards the cloth bag in the footwell of the passenger’s seat, pleased with the three squares she had managed to crochet during the last two days. She’d had to Google how to fasten off, and it had taken Timothy’s help to figure it out, but still.

  “Who’d have thought you’d enjoy crocheting so much?” Liam said with a wide smile. He placed his hand on her thigh as he drove.

  Anna nodded. “You’re right in your assumption that I really didn’t think much of the whole craft-hobby idea at first. I’ve surprised myself.”

  “Glad you’ve found something you like—and maybe some new friends in the group?”

  She nodded. “Matthew seems sweet, and Ollie, the woman that’s teaching me, she’s really very lovely.” Anna closed her mouth tightly. The crochet group is my thing, nothing to do with you. She’d never had anything that was just for her alone.

  “Brilliant.” Liam pulled up outside the shop and leant over to kiss her. She smiled against his lips, the rough of his stubble against her face, his hand under her chin. His aftershave filled her nostrils.

  “I’ll see you,” he said with a wink.

  “See you.”

  He let her get out before giving her a little finger wave that she returned.

  Her stomach felt a little fluttery. It wasn’t from the kiss. What then, she wondered? It was probably because she was excited about learning a new skill and meeting new people.

  She knocked. When the door opened, Ollie was standing there.

  Anna grinned. “Hi.”

  “Hello.” Ollie stepped back to let her in.

  They stood in front of one another for a moment. Anna fumbled in her cloth bag. “Oh, I have things to show you.”

  They moved into the corridor, then further into the classroom. The room was half-full already, and most people looked up from their conversations to wave at her.

  Anna waved back. The young woman with the soft toys was there, as were the older lady with the huge blanket and the old man with his leather slippers.

  “Don’t tell me, you’ve made a filigree blanket all by yourself and you no longer need lessons.”

  “Oh no. I do still need you. But look.” She put her bag atop the table and pulled out three squares.

  “Well done.” Ollie smiled at her. “You must have worked hard.”

  Anna shrugged and looked at the floor for a moment. “Many slip-ups along the way. But I got it sorted in the end.”

  Ollie held up the squares, one on top of the other. “You could easily make a scarf out of these. Maybe do six more? Sew them together.”

  “Ah.” Warmth flowed into Anna’s stomach, settling down the fluttering feeling. “A little sewing I can do.”

  “Good.”

  “What’s this week’s project?”

  Ollie handed back the squares and pointed at a seat for Anna.

  “Granny-square coasters,” Ollie replied. “Don’t worry, though, if you want to continue with your scarf.”

  “I think I will. Might as well finish a project before I start a new one.”

  “Good thinking,” Matthew said as Anna took the seat next to him. “The number of unfinished bits and pieces I have at home…”

  “Yes, you really do need to finish some of them.” Ollie pointed a finger towards him. Her eyes crinkled in the corners.

  “I know. Now I’m done with Mum’s cardigan, I thought…” He fished out something white, green and yellow.

  Ollie snorted. Anna peered between them at an unfinished rectangular project in Matthew’s lap. “How old is the baby that blanket was intended for, Matthew?”

  He lowered his head slightly. “Four?”

  “Months?” Anna asked.

  “Years,” he replied on a moan.

  “I’m sure he’ll like it still,” Anna said.

  At another knock, Ollie moved away to answer the door.

  “Or maybe you could find someone else that would like it?” Anna added.

  “Maybe.” Matthew sighed and folded his arms. “Or maybe I will just keep it for myself. I could make it bigger and perhaps keep it for cold nights in.”

  “I think that’s a great idea. I don’t know about you, but I don’t treat myself as often as I should.” She indicated her squares. “I’m making this scarf for myself,” she announced and cuddled one of the squares to her neck. “And I rather think I’m going to like it.”

  As the last of the group wandered in, Ollie stood at the head of the table and waved around the new patterns. “Coasters. You’ll need some Aran or cotton yarn in two colours and a four-millimetre hook. I’ve translated it back to British; the original was in American. And we all know how annoying that is.”

  Everyone tittered except for Anna, who frowned in slight confusion.

  Ollie handed Matthew the pile of patterns and he gaped at her, then studied the copies in his hands. “I don’t understand. What am I supposed to do with these?”

  It was a struggle for Anna to hold in her laughter. He sounded genuinely befuddled. Yep, his mum must have spoiled him rotten.

  “What else? Hand them out for me while I get the kettle boiling.”

  He wasn’t quite ready to leave behind the gaping. But then he stood and obliged her. Meanwhile, everyone proceeded to the main area of the shop to choose yarn. Anna watched them go, then took out her significantly decreased ball and started with a row of chain stitches. She looked up towards the counter.

  Ollie leant there, arms folded loosely, watching her from behind her floppy fringe.

  Anna made careful and slow double crochet stitches, her fingers a little clumsy at being watched.

  For another long while, the radio quietly played popular songs Anna recognised but couldn’t name. The light chatter around them continued. Someone scraped their chair back and moaned as they stretched.

  When Anna looked up again, Ollie was looking down at her right knee, her hand rubbing the side of it. Her other fist was clenched and her shoulders were tense. Dark brown eyes eventually looked her way, and Anna smiled. With a smile, Ollie stepped towards Anna’s table, dropping to one knee to inspect her row of stitches.

  Anna willingly held out her work, eyes bright and
hopeful.

  “I can’t believe you’ve picked it up so quickly,” Ollie said. “Very neat.”

  “Thank you.” Anna felt herself beam this time, then instantly felt a bit silly about it and made herself glance to her side, where she caught a glimpse of Matthew next to her, his head bowed over his blanket.

  Someone guffawed from across the room, and everyone turned to see. The old man closed his mouth immediately and looked wide-eyed before everyone settled back down to their conversations and crochet. The joke seemed to have been in his own head.

  Ollie’s fingertip smoothed along each stitch of the neat row of doubles as if she were reading Braille. Her hand stopped at the end of the row, a millimetre away from Anna’s. She took it away. “Have the coaster pattern, though.” Her voice seemed a bit wobbly.

  “Okay.”

  Ollie gripped the table edge to haul herself up and went to the front to collect a pattern.

  “I feel I’m going to create quite a collection,” Anna said.

  After she laid the pattern on the table, Ollie moved back to the front of the room.

  Matthew was, as usual, splitting his attention between his baby blanket and Harry, who seemed deep in conversation with the woman with the big blanket. The woman was rubbing his back and leaning close to him, and Anna thought there was something grandmotherly about her. She thought back to the way the lady had been affectionate with Ollie the week before. Harry rested his cheek on her shoulder for a brief moment, then smiled and continued crocheting.

  She nudged Matthew. “Come on, spill,” she said quietly. “What is it with him?”

  Shaking his head, Matthew stared down at his hands. “I’ve seen him out. He was with a whole group of friends at The Cock and Duck. Current feeling is that he’s at least interested in guys but perhaps not interested in me.”

  She carefully watched the man from over her shoulder. “Hmm. Why don’t you strike up a conversation? I know Ollie’s told you not to go in for the kill, as it were, but at least you have something in common. Just talk to him.”

  He fiddled with his hook. “I don’t know. Not sure I want to be disappointed.”

  “Ah. I understand. So it’s more fun to watch him from afar than to actually see whether he’s interested.”

  Matthew sat up straight. “It’s fine. Not like there aren’t plenty more out there who are interested. It’s fine. I’m sure he’s lovely, but probably not what I’m looking for.”

  “What are you looking for?”

  “I’m far too young to be settling down. And he seems like the stay-at-home-with-a-cocoa type. Might as well leave him to it.” There was a deep spark in his eyes, though.

  She decided to leave it and continued with her doubles. Various people asked Ollie for help, but otherwise, she leant against the counter at the front, her gaze drifting around the room, as though she were a teacher watching her students complete an exercise, keeping an eye out for the confused or distressed.

  I hope she can spend more time with me this week. But then she scolded herself. She’s not my personal tutor. I haven’t even paid for her services yet. Anna tried to focus on her squares, rather than lifting her gaze to Ollie’s quite so often. However, once Anna had finished one square, she gave herself permission to look up.

  Ollie blinked rapidly. Her gaze flashed away, then someone close by Ollie caught her attention and pointed to the kettle. She looked startled, but pushed herself up from leaning against the counter and immediately grabbed the kettle to fill it and set it to boil. Standing with her back turned, she laid her hands on the counter in front of her.

  Anna watched her.

  As steam rose from the spout and the kettle clicked off, Ollie got twelve mugs from the cupboard above the counter and everyone put in their orders. Ollie made the drinks, still with her back turned.

  When Ollie brought her cup over, Anna sighed as she took a sip. Nothing like a good cup of tea.

  Ollie handed out the remaining drinks, saying something encouraging to each person about their work. She was so gentle and kind with everyone.

  Halfway through the session, Amy—the young girl with the soft toys—called Ollie over, her voice frantic. “I can’t get the hook in the stitch here!”

  Ollie was by her side in a moment and knelt down. “Let me see, soldier. It’s okay.” The lady sitting next to Amy was touching her forehead in frustration.

  “Ah, I see what you’ve done, Amy. You need to slacken off a bit, and remember those chain stitches in the corners, yeah? You’ve chosen a really thick cotton, so I’m not surprised you’re having trouble.”

  Amy’s face fell.

  “It’s all right, you’ll be fine. I might suggest you use a six, though, rather than a four. That’s Aran you’ve got there.”

  They sorted it out together, with the young girl visibly calming under Ollie’s instruction. Anna turned back to chat with Matthew and worked through her squares.

  “Other than that,” Ollie said, “you’ve done really well. Keep at it, soldier. You’ll get it.”

  “D’you reckon?”

  “Of course.” A chuckle. “Have I ever been wrong?”

  Amy laughed. Ollie appeared in front of them again. Matthew suddenly showed a suspicious amount of concentration on his work. Not that Anna minded.

  Ollie smiled. “You’re doing all right, then?” she asked, her voice quiet.

  Anna nodded and drained the tea from her mug. She had laid her squares out on the table in a long row. “What do you think? Three more squares?”

  “I reckon so.”

  “Okay.” Anna settled back into her doubles, but looked round when she noticed Ollie sliding into the seat next to her. Where did we get to when we spoke before? Ah yes. “So, you’ve been here two years?” Anna’s gaze was trained back on her crochet.

  “That’s right.”

  “What did you do before running a shop?”

  “I was in the army.”

  Anna’s head popped up.

  Ollie snorted. “What?”

  “Nothing. You don’t seem the sort.”

  Ollie said nothing.

  Anna froze and then laughed. “Not that I suppose there is a sort of person that should be in the army. Or could. I don’t know why I said that.”

  “It’s okay, I get that a lot.”

  “Big jump—army to crochet.”

  “Well, it wasn’t really in my master plan.” Ollie’s eyes glazed over for half a heartbeat. “My accident happened while I was in Iraq.”

  Anna placed unfinished square onto the table. This conversation should have her full attention. “What happened?”

  “The building I was working in was bombed.” Ollie fiddled with her fingers and looked down at her knees.

  Anna winced. Her hand hovered for a while, right near Ollie’s fingers. I barely know her. It dropped to her lap. “Injuries?”

  “Cuts and abrasions, mostly. They thought I’d broken my back, but turned out my knee was worse. Didn’t notice that until they got me to a hospital.”

  “Blimey.” Anna nodded. “That’s bad luck, Private Williams.”

  “Sergeant.” Ollie blushed and cleared her throat. “Although I haven’t been called that in… I’m a teacher. Was.”

  “Oh.” That explains an awful lot. Anna relaxed at the revelation. “You didn’t say.”

  “I know.” Ollie tucked her hair behind her ear, then set her jaw and lifted her gaze to Anna’s. “Sorry. It feels weird to say, just because it’s been nearly six years.”

  “Subject?”

  Her shoulders softened. “Physical education. Running around sport halls and fields. Got my teacher training through the army; worked in a few schools over here but owed the army some time, so ended up in Iraq teaching kids to read and write. That’s what I was doing when…” Ollie’s hand moved in a pat
tern through the air.

  “Medical discharge?”

  She gave Anna a short, sharp nod.

  “That must have been hard.” I can’t even imagine. One’s entire life changing so much, in such a short space of time. Anna leaned a little closer and accidentally knocked her foot against Ollie’s.

  Ollie moved her foot away. Her shoulders had gone tense again.

  She lifted her hand again and moved it towards Ollie’s hands, clasped on the table. Before she could touch her, however, Amy called out for help and Ollie pushed back the chair with a scrape and stood.

  An overwhelming feeling of sadness about Ollie’s past gripped Anna’s insides. She grasped her hook and felt the cool of the metal against her fingertips. Matthew shifted next to her and leant close as Ollie went to help Amy. He put his hand over hers and squeezed her fingers.

  “She doesn’t like to talk about her army days,” he said.

  Anna’s gaze drifted back to her half-finished square. “No, I can imagine she doesn’t.”

  “And she wouldn’t talk about them unless she really wanted to.”

  Anna turned and looked at him. “She wouldn’t?”

  He smiled, squeezed her hands again, and then went back to his blanket.

  Anna stared at the table. She pushed away the ache in her stomach and picked up her square.

  By the end of the session, the sadness had cleared enough so she could chat with Matthew again. She found him an easy person to talk to—a little sarcastic but otherwise kind and thoughtful. And very funny. He had many stories about previous members of the crochet group. She found herself drifting back into humour and enjoyment.

  Ollie didn’t come back over apart from to set another cup of tea on the table in front of her, so Anna hung around as everyone else packed up, pretending she had tea to finish off, which wasn’t strictly a lie—her cup had sat neglected while she finished the squares. She folded the crocheted pieces up and settled them neatly in her cloth bag, ready to be sewn together at home.

  Amy passed her with an awkward teenaged grin. “Hi.”

  “Hi. Amy, right?”

  “Yes, Miss.”

  Anna squinted at her. “Oh, you’re in Mr Jones’s Year 11 class, aren’t you?”