Her embarrassment faded.
“But,” Ollie said, her gaze suddenly stern and her arms folded, “we need to do something about your inability to tie in your ends.”
Heat crept into Anna’s cheeks. “You never told me any different.” She caught the echo of the previous night in her own words.
Ollie’s cheeks were tinged with pink as she cleared her throat. “I’ll show you how to do it properly,” she said, her voice much quieter.
“Okay.”
Standing and shifting his things to one side on the table, Matthew pointed across the room. “Just using your loo.” Anna didn’t quite believe it, but he practically dashed out of their space, taking the opportunity to greet the new man at the front of the room with a friendly face and handshake.
Anna watched him go and then discovered Ollie had replaced him in his seat.
“Pass me your scarf.” She held out a flat palm.
Anna took the scarf from the back of her chair and pulled the chair close to the table. Ollie rested her elbows on the table, the scarf between her hands. “Right. We don’t tie knots in our work.”
“Right.” I feel like I’m being told off at school. Why is that a nice feeling?
“What you do is, when you’re done, you pull your thread through, leaving a tail of about ten, maybe twelve inches.” She held her forefinger about that length away from the end of the scarf to demonstrate.
Anna watched her hand and then looked up at her face. They were very close; she could see the little mole on Ollie’s right cheekbone.
“Then you take a thick needle, thread the tail onto it.” Ollie pressed her forefinger to each of the neat stitches Anna had made across the end of the scarf. “You sew the tail under each stitch, through one way, about this far.” Ollie traced her finger across about five inches. “Then you sew back again the same distance, obviously going over the stitch here.” She pointed to the stitch where she’d indicated Anna should change direction. “Because otherwise you’d just unsew the entire thing.”
“Oh,” Anna breathed. “And it doesn’t unravel if you do that?”
Their gazes locked.
Anna swallowed.
Ollie paused before she answered. “Shouldn’t. If you’ve sewn far enough.”
Anna nodded but didn’t break Ollie’s gaze. What do I want right now? Ollie’s breath tickled her face. She’s so lovely. I want to look at her all day.
Another voice screamed inside her head. What on earth does that mean?
Ollie was giving her a shuttered-eye look, the tips of her cheekbones still a little pink.
Because she didn’t want her to feel embarrassed—goodness knows she’d caused enough embarrassment that week—Anna leant backwards, turned away from her, and reached for the dark green ball of yarn she’d chosen for her caterpillar.
“Thanks for your help,” she said and then cleared her throat. “You do have a nice way of explaining things.”
When she looked back at Ollie, she was smiling at her. “You’re welcome.” Ollie didn’t move away.
Realising Ollie still had hold of her scarf, Anna reached for it, intending on divesting her of it. Her fingertips brushed the back of Ollie’s hand. Tingling shot through them.
She has such soft skin. Anna had to swallow, to look away. She tucked the scarf behind her and then twisted back around to find Ollie pushing the chair back and standing.
Matthew had returned and was looking between them. “All sorted?” he asked.
“Anna is up to speed on how to tie in ends.” Ollie gave Anna a wink.
Her hands suddenly became very interesting, but, no matter what, the grin on Anna’s face wouldn’t shift.
The end of the caterpillar-filled class rolled around quickly, and Matthew packed up his bits hastily, clearly so he could catch up with Harry before he left.
The two men greeted one another warmly.
He’s usually so confident. What is it about Harry that makes Matthew fall over himself? She wondered whether it was something that accompanied the young these days. Fun is easy. Serious takes some time.
Ollie limped over and handed her a piece of paper. “The pencil pot pattern,” she said.
Squinting, Anna looked down at it. “Oh, it starts the same as the caterpillars.”
“That’s right. Make a ring, six doubles. I’m sure you’ll work it out.”
A smile settled on Anna’s face as Ollie collected hers and Matthew’s mugs from the table.
Ollie watched Matthew and Harry leave. “He literally got three numbers last night.”
“Impressive.”
“I know. I don’t think he really knows what he wants—something desperately passionate with no emotion, or something that involves cuddling up in front of the television.” Ollie’s gaze darted around, and she watched the door close behind the last person. “Look…about last night.”
“You don’t need to explain,” Anna said, taking a five-pound note out of her purse and handing it to Ollie.
Ollie took it and smiled in acknowledgement. “I don’t usually… It’s not my thing…you know… The woman you saw me with…”
“It’s fine.”
“Actually”—Ollie’s eyebrows slanted upwards—“I think I’d like to talk about it. To someone who isn’t going to tease me forever about my atrocious taste in women.”
Her gaze moving to the table in front of her, Anna thought for a moment.
“Cuppa tea?” Ollie asked.
Anna lifted her gaze, and Ollie pointed upstairs. The warm flat was appealing, and a cup of tea even more so.
Ollie closed up the classroom, leaving the mugs in the sink. When Ollie noticed Anna looking, she shrugged. “I’ll do them tomorrow.”
She led Anna up to her flat. In the kitchen area, she flicked the kettle on and got out two mugs, the stylish ones they’d drunk from a few weeks ago.
“Christian and Sarah came in yesterday afternoon,” Ollie said, watching the kettle boil.
Anna leant next to her, against the counter.
Ollie closed her eyes for a moment and shook her head, her hands against the edge of the surface as she leant her weight forward against it. “They’re very much in love, I think.” She looked sideways at Anna and then flicked her eyes back to the kettle. “They weren’t all over one another, or inappropriate or anything… It’s just been a while. And to see two people that much into each other…” Ollie scuffed the linoleum floor with her boot.
“It made you think about what you were missing,” Anna finished.
Ollie nodded. The kettle rumbled noisily and the light on the side faded away. Ollie poured their drinks and then bent to her fridge to get milk. She grimaced when she stood, a strangled sort of moan edging out of her mouth.
“You all right?” Anna asked, reaching out a hand.
“Knee’s giving me jip. Since I did a spot of running last night.”
“I’m sorry.”
The smile Ollie gave her was understanding. The spoon tinkled as Ollie stirred their teas and then removed the teabags. “I think we need to stop apologising to one another.”
Laughing, Anna took the tea from Ollie and followed her to sit in the living room. “So, you’re lonely?” Anna asked.
Ollie opened her mouth on a smile. “Something like that.”
“You should call the girl you were with,” Anna suggested, wiggling her backside into Ollie’s comfortable sofa. “You didn’t seem to be having a terrible time last night.”
Ollie looked up at Anna, her eyebrows ever so slightly furrowed.
God, her eyes are so beautiful. Anna suddenly felt a fraction dizzy. Fluttery might be a more accurate word. She kept her breathing calm and steady, but her stomach felt strange all of a sudden. Dropping her gaze to her own cup of tea, she took a sip, allowing the hot tea to almost burn her
tongue and ground her.
“I think I was drunk,” Ollie said.
“A little more fussy during the cold light of day, are we?” Anna asked, with an eyebrow cocked and a smirk.
“She wasn’t into crafts…or anything, really. We didn’t have a whole lot in common.”
“That’s a shame.” Anna tilted her head and patted Ollie’s knee. “And quite the deal-breaker, hmm?”
Ollie nodded.
“Well, I suppose you never know who you’re going to meet.”
“What about you? Anyone on the horizon?”
“I think I’m just going to focus on me for a while,” Anna said. “After Liam… My children come first. And I need to have a serious think about any future choices I make.”
Ollie nodded. “There’s no law that says you have to be with someone. I’ve been single for a few years. It’s not all that bad.”
“Something nice about having someone to come home to though,” Anna said, staring into her tea. She watched the tiny tendrils of steam rise from it. “A warm body to be next to at night.”
“That’s true.”
They smiled at one another, gazes catching.
Ollie had turned on a lamp, and the room was cast in a soft glow. Her skin appeared golden, and her eyes were dark. They held the gaze for a while, before Ollie took a deep breath. “As terrible as my marriage was when it ended, it wasn’t all that bad. Not in the beginning.”
Anna smiled. “I suppose my own was bearable for maybe a day or so.”
Ollie’s chuckle broke the tension between them.
“Before he decided to stray. When Bethany was little, it was all right.”
“Here’s to better relationships,” Ollie said, lifting her teacup.
Anna clinked them together and happily sipped.
The clock on Ollie’s mantelpiece ticked in the silence. Cars drove by on occasion. An emergency vehicle, possibly an ambulance, flashed by, its sirens silent due to the late hour. Anna wondered who the ambulance was for, which poor soul was suffering.
“So, you’re not going to call her?” Anna asked, taking a last sip and placing the cup on the coffee table.
Ollie shook her head.
Anna lifted a hand to finger the throw on the back of Ollie’s sofa. Tiny bobbles of wool were flicked here and there, as if it had been washed several times. She felt oddly reassured.
“Probably best,” Ollie said.
“You need someone who at least attempts to learn to crochet.” She shifted forward on the sofa, and then stood, giving Ollie a little shrug. “I should get home,” she said, her face splitting into a wide smile. She set about gathering up her coat and bags. “Timothy will be wondering where I am. And I have an absolute mountain of marking to do before tomorrow.”
“Of course.” Ollie grabbed Anna’s mug and stood, too, her face twisting.
Anna touched her arm. “Ollie.”
Ollie looked at her with a strained expression.
“Can I suggest you take some painkillers?”
A pout pulled at Ollie’s mouth.
Anna skimmed her fingertips over Ollie’s shoulder. “Please?”
After a sigh of deference, Ollie nodded. “As you asked so very nicely,” she teased. She put the cups by the sink, walked her to the door, and led her down the stairs.
Slipping by her in the narrow corridor, Anna stepped out onto the street. Holding an arm open, she smiled up from where she stood, a step lower than Ollie.
Hesitation flickered across Ollie’s features.
Anna shuffled close to the doorstep. She wrapped an arm around Ollie’s hip, careful and mindful of her weak side as she pulled her in.
The warmth of Ollie’s chin against the top of Anna’s head was stabilising. Ollie’s whole body went floppy as she exhaled. Her thumb smoothed back and forth against Anna’s shoulder.
After pulling back, Anna left without a word, her hands shaking and her heart pounding. Her face was flushed and she had that fluttery feeling again, like she’d almost fallen, and couldn’t catch her breath. She walked swiftly back to her car, back to the safety of Radio 4, and allowed the cool air to pass over her face from the blower before turning the heat up.
What is the matter with me?
After sitting for a moment or two, Anna drove home, utilising the time to calm her thudding heart.
Timothy was in the kitchen, pyjamas on and ready for bed. He waved goodnight to her and retreated upstairs with his cocoa.
She watched him go fondly, and then took off her coat and shoes, and put her bags away. After trudging up the stairs, she looked in on Bethany, who was typing at her desk in her bedroom.
Anna sat on her own bed and just breathed for a moment or two. Perhaps the menopause is hitting me hard. She couldn’t understand why her body was confusing her. Hot one minute, jittery like a schoolgirl the next.
She sat and thought. The wind rustled the few remaining leaves still clinging to the branches outside her bedroom window. A tentative theory floated across her mind, tugging at the analytical part of her, the area of her brain she used to decipher Shakespeare, or tease apart a mind-boggling poem. Her head pulsed with the beginnings of a headache. She couldn’t consider it now; it was all too much. After finishing all the marking she had to do, she would sleep on it and think about it in the morning.
Chapter 7
The Hat
On Saturday morning, Anna had put a wash on, cleaned the kitchen, and sorted out a shopping list for that afternoon. With Timothy not due back until later and Bethany out for coffee with her father, it was a small luxury to read on the sofa in complete quiet, Arthur curled up at the other end by her feet. She lay on her back, her head rested against the arm, her knees bent.
After a while, her book ended up on the floor. With her eyes closed, the thing she had been thinking about for the last day-and-a-half rattled around inside her brain much more easily: About how beautiful Ollie was. About how her eyes sparkled when she taught. Her hands were so skilful.
I’m attracted to her. The theory had stuck, and she needed to speak to someone about it, because she was having no joy on her own. The notion of talking with Bethany did not sit with her for long. And as logical and surprisingly accurate as Timothy could be, she needed someone with a little more relationship experience.
Anna stroked her socked foot over the cat’s back, careful not to annoy him but wanting to connect with another living thing. “What do you reckon, little man?” she asked and he looked up at her. “What would you think of Ollie? Would you think she was pretty?” She smirked. “She has an entire shop full of wool, so I expect you’d be rather enamoured by her.”
Under her foot, his purr intensified, and he rolled around until his paws curled into the air.
You’re no use. Not since I took you to the vet for that “little operation”. No desire whatsoever to bring a girl back to your cat bed.
As for talking with a work colleague, the moment she even hinted she might be attracted to a woman it would be all over the school, and she did so hate being the subject of gossip. It had been bad enough with Liam. She liked to believe Jack was discreet, but she’d already told him she wasn’t attracted to Ollie. She popped him on a reserve list, in case she could think of no one else.
She tried to consider the whole thing rationally. She hadn’t been attracted to a woman before. Was that what was making her stomach churn? Is my identity shifting? Am I becoming someone I don’t recognise when I look at her?
There were plenty of attractive women in films and television and magazines, right? What if she was attracted to some of those women too? Maybe that would tell her something. She sat up and then padded over to the magazine rack.
She chose a shiny-paged edition that belonged Bethany. She flicked through and considered all the pictures she could find of women. They were all eithe
r in embarrassing situations or fashion-orientated poses, and she threw the magazine back into the rack.
Her mobile loomed at her from across the room. Hmm. YouTube. She opened the app and wondered what on earth she should search for. But once she had typed a few words into the search bar and had clicked Search, she nearly dropped the phone. She closed the app the second after the results flew onto her screen, her cheeks burning. Nope. She’d probably get arrested now if her search history was looked into.
There was a buzz in her hand. She stared at the phone in horror, as if it knew what she’d accidentally searched for and was currently judging her. But then a small smile tugged at her lips at the name on the screen.
I’m bored. How you doing? X
Her stomach blossomed with warmth. Ollie was sitting in her shop, thinking about her.
If only it wasn’t Ollie whom she was attracted to. She sighed. She’d know how to advise me, and I feel so safe talking with her. Ollie was intelligent and reasonably in touch with her feelings. She had a sensitive nature and knew how to make her smile. And she’s gay. Together they would probably have been able to figure it out.
Anna sighed again and tapped out a text she made sure was especially cheery, despite feeling anything but.
I’m okay thanks. Housework mostly! How fun. Shop not busy today? X
She briefly thought about jumping in her car and just going to the shop to hang out there, but she knew deep down it would only put off the soul searching she really did need to do.
Not at all—very surprising. I’m busy making rabbits—found the most amazing pattern. Can you receive picture texts? X
Anna’s phone beeped before she could finish her reply. Rather than a no-nonsense picture of a bunny in Ollie’s hand, or set on a desk, Ollie had chosen to take a photograph of her own face with the rabbit squished against her cheek. Her eyes glinted at her creation.
Goodness, even just the cheekiness of it made her feel tingly. Anna gazed at the picture for several minutes before realising she really ought to respond.
Hooked on You Page 15
