“I wouldn’t want to let anyone down.”
“I don’t think you would be.”
“It feels like I’ve been working so hard for so long, I’ll end up just sitting with too much time to think.”
“I know that feeling. I did that a lot when I came out of hospital.”
“But you threw yourself into crochet, didn’t you?”
Ollie nodded. “This is true.” She glanced down at her watch. “You’re working tomorrow.”
Anna hummed affectionately. “I am.”
“I’ll let you get some sleep.”
“What makes you think I’m not already in bed?” There was a depth and softness to Anna’s words, and Ollie had to physically hold back from jumping in a taxi to Anna’s house and hopping into her bed with her.
“Drinking wine in bed?”
“How on earth did you know that? Anyway, I’m all on my own. Need some kind of company, don’t I?”
“Tease.” Ollie relaxed a little.
“Goodnight, love,” Anna whispered.
“Goodnight, Anna.”
They met for coffee a few more times at the small café they had begun to call their own. The coffee was good and the cakes spectacular. The staff automatically provided them with two forks when they bought a slice now. Anna liked the cosiness there, the gentle ambient music, and the way Ollie looked at her over the shiny, varnished table.
I still don’t like having a secret from her. The secret of the tea cosy had been more difficult to contain than she had expected. The hours of working on the little blue flowers, the leaves, the tiny red butterfly, and then the yellow body of the thing had left her with dark lines under her eyes and achy hands. I’m never making one of these again.
She considered whether making one for someone she didn’t hold in such high regard would be quite so stressful. Her brain ached when she thought about getting the cosy right because it was for Ollie and because it was for Christmas.
Timothy came with them for coffee one afternoon on his day off between work at the school shop and Countdown marathons. The atmosphere had begun thick with nerves, although Timothy had seemed far less tense than Ollie. He eventually made Ollie laugh, and then they seemed to get on like a house on fire. Ollie was so interested—or at least behaved as if she was—in Timothy, in the way he saw the world, and this meant for flowing conversation. Anna simply sat back and sipped her coffee, unable to keep her relief under wraps.
When they left, Timothy asked for Ollie’s email address. They agreed to swap research into social conventions. Timothy liked to research pretty much everything that came up in conversation, including conversation itself, which Ollie seemed to find truly fascinating.
When they got home from that particular lunchtime out, Anna patted Timothy’s shoulder.
With a grin, Timothy held his arms out, an unusual thing for him to do, with his aversion to touching others.
He towered over her as she leaned into his embrace and closed her eyes. “So, you like Ollie, then?”
“I do.”
Anna relaxed—he was no good at lying and therefore rarely did so. “I’m very glad.” Pulling back as she felt him get to the end of the counting that meant the finish of any hug he gave, she patted his shoulder again.
“Ollie is intelligent, says kind things, doesn’t hate Countdown, and is not averse to communicating in a way that I understand.”
“I think there should be more people like you.” The love she had for the young man flowed out of her in glowing waves. “I think the world would be an amazing place if people just said how they felt.”
“If everyone was like me, you and Ollie would have said you liked one another about three weeks before you actually did anything about it.”
Anna stared at him for a minute. He really does know what he’s talking about sometimes.
He stared back, and Anna assumed he was unsure about why she was staring at him.
“Talk to me about your girlfriend, Timothy,” she said, tilting her head to one side. “How did you two manage to get together?”
“I walked up to her, after careful consideration of the consequences of my words, and told her she had an asymmetrical face,” he stated, his chin lifted high.
A strangled but joyful laugh flew from Anna’s throat. She slapped a hand over her mouth. “Apologies.” The grin remained plastered over his face. She realised he understood that this would not be neurotypical behaviour, but that he didn’t mind that it wasn’t. He also didn’t mind that she had laughed, it seemed. “Is that a…did she take that as a compliment?”
“I have researched extensively my own attraction to asymmetric faces. I find them more attractive than those faces that display complete symmetry.”
“Really?”
“Is it so difficult to understand?”
“I don’t think I’ve ever thought about it.”
“Ollie has a mole on her cheekbone. But only one cheekbone. And one of her ears is higher than the other. Would she look as attractive to you if these things were the same on both sides?”
Anna smiled, shook her head. “I have no idea.”
“I have, and I think not.” Timothy smiled, and went over to the kettle. “I think Ollie is attractive, otherwise you wouldn’t have kissed her.” He eyed her from across the kitchen. “You seem to think she’s attractive.”
“Do I?” Although she’d said the words out loud to him, told him she thought Ollie was pretty, he’d used the word “seem,” which meant he had observed and taken mental notes.
“When she looks at you, and you look at her, your pupils dilate. You smile about fifty percent more. You get red in your neck and face when she speaks to you.” He patted where he meant on himself.
The kettle clicked, and he prepared their drinks. “I’m sure other changes happen in your body also, but I believe it would be inappropriate for me to comment.”
Anna laughed. “I dare say you’re right.”
“You’re going to hers at Christmas.”
“I am.”
“Will you be sleeping over?”
She paused and looked away from him for a moment. The feeling between Ollie and her when they spoke about Christmas was something hot and buzzing, like they were behind a rocket about to launch. Sometimes it was so hot, the world shimmered about her and she had to blink hard.
Hadn’t they waited long enough? I want to sleep with her. I want to make love with her.
She gave Timothy a steady and honest look. “I think so.”
“Please text me, let me know when you decide what you’re doing.”
She nodded immediately, taking the cup of tea he offered to her.
“That way I know where you are. And I can watch Doctor Who in peace.”
“Of course. You’ll know as soon as I know.”
Ollie had spent hours sewing hundreds of granny squares together. The wall hanging reached down to the floor as she sat at her till, so she moved onto the sofa and rolled the throw when it got long enough to become a trip hazard for her customers.
Matthew and Harry arrived on Saturday afternoon, their hands joined.
Ollie was covered in granny squares and was starting to feel the effects in her knuckles of constantly sewing. Could really do with a hand massage from a certain redhead. She shook her head to push away the tingly thoughts and smiled at the couple as they approached.
“Wow,” Harry said, leaning his backside against the arm of the sofa. “That’s amazing, Ollie.” He pulled Matthew close to him, and Matthew shyly slid up to his side and rested his chin on Harry’s head.
“Yep. It’s massive. And I’m taking it to the hall tomorrow. So please don’t distract me for too long.” She tried to make her words light, but the change in their expressions told her she’d failed.
“Don’t get stressed,” Mat
thew said, concern flooding his features. He moved away from Harry’s side and pushed it out of the way before sitting next to Ollie. “Give me a darning needle and let me help?”
Ollie stared at him and tears pricked her eyes. Matthew had never offered to help her with anything.
Harry, for his part, picked up the other side of it and slid onto the sofa too. “And don’t think I’m above giving you a hand either.” He pointed to Ollie’s sewing kit, and Matthew took the hint, standing and grabbing the things they needed.
They worked in companionable quiet only punctuated by the occasional exclamation of how beautiful a particular square was. Warmth washed over her as she sat between them, working busily. I’m going to make the deadline. And my hands aren’t going to give up before I do.
Matthew leant against her side at one point, and they exchanged a comfortable look. “This was such a good idea. It’s really given the whole group a purpose and a sense of community.”
“Do you think so, soldier?” Ollie asked, her gaze flicking almost imperceptibly in Harry’s direction. Matthew got it, though, and hid a smirk just behind his eyes.
“Oh, definitely.” Harry’s gaze was trained on his hands, but the glint in his eyes was evident nonetheless in the way he spoke. “When I joined, I thought you’d all known one another for years.”
Ollie laughed in delight. “Well, I’m glad we’ve provided you with a safe place to come once a week.”
Something passed across Harry’s face, but it was too buried and she didn’t feel comfortable asking about it. Whatever it was, Matthew reached around Ollie’s back and rubbed the back of Harry’s neck, and Harry relaxed. Ollie caught the sad smile he flashed at Matthew for a second, though.
When Ollie raised an eyebrow in Matthew’s direction, Matthew shook his head and returned to his work. Yes, she supposed it wasn’t really her business.
Two hours later, they’d finished. The thing was huge. It took all three of them to fold it up, the resulting shape a good four feet wide and two feet thick. Matthew danced on slightly nervous but excited feet.
Harry touched his chin and took a few steps back to look at their work, which Ollie had managed to lift in both arms. “It’s perfect.”
“I hope Sandra thinks so.”
“Want a lift to the church hall?” Matthew asked.
Another offer of help? He must be getting soft in his old age. Ollie decided not to comment but nodded gratefully. This thing is heavy. I’d never make it all the way without my knee screaming at me.
When they arrived, a small group of children were gathered around a piano, singing carols. Ollie struggled with the heavy, awkward hanging. Harry immediately grabbed one side to help, and Matthew followed suit on the other.
Sandra, a middle-aged woman with curly grey hair, sat in a small office to one side of the hall. She stood and held her arms out as the three brought in the mammoth item. “Oh, you darlings. Look at it.”
Ollie laughed uncomfortably and pulled her two helpers over to an empty table. They lay the mammoth blanket onto it and stepped back. Ollie thought she detected an air of accomplishment from the two lads that matched her own.
“We shall get the boys to put it up tomorrow. Thank you for dropping it off early,” Sandra said. “And, again, thank you so much.”
“Send us pictures?” Matthew asked, waggling his mobile phone.
“Of course, of course. Let’s have your number, darling.”
They exchanged numbers, and Matthew assured Ollie he would send her any pictures he received. Ollie absolutely intended to forward any photos straight to Anna. She caught sight of one square, sat neatly on a corner of the throw.
Anna made that. She helped too. They all did.
Chapter 12
The Shawl
On Christmas Day, the Rose Family opened their presents early, and for the first time in years Anna felt like her children were happily children again. Bethany sat on the floor and immediately pulled a Santa hat onto her head, proclaiming herself “Christmas elf” for the morning and therefore in charge of giving out presents. Timothy commented she was too tall for an elf, or too short, depending on her interpretation—traditional or Tolkien—but that he would let it lie just this once as it was Christmas.
Bethany had bought her mother a new pair of slippers, fluffy boot-type ones, in red and white. Timothy had bought her an expensive fountain pen and had explained that one should always have a nice pen in case one had to write to an important person. Anna gave him an impromptu hug, which he allowed with his classic wide grin. Beth clambered next to her on the sofa and kissed all over her cheeks when she’d opened the vouchers for a restaurant and clothing store she liked. Timothy beamed when he opened the new tie and cufflinks Anna had bought him.
“In case you take your girlfriend on a posh date,” she explained.
They loved their crocheted presents as well, holding them up and taking pictures on their phones before posting them on social media immediately. Anna felt simultaneously proud and terribly nervous—the whole world would see the things she had made, and they had both named her as the creator of the items.
Oh well. This is what people do these days.
She saw her children off to their respective events, told Bethany to text her if she needed to, and hoped Timothy had a lovely time with Adam.
Her house was empty apart from Arthur, who was playing excitedly with his present: a small ball of wool Anna had wrapped an elastic band around, leaving a tail to trail about as he batted it. It bounced across the tiles in the kitchen and he hunkered down, his backside in the air and his tail flicking from side to side, until he pounced and the ball continued its escape. She watched him until the nervous fluttering in her stomach became too much.
Anna paced around the house, packaging up the mince pies she had made into a box. She slid the bottle of wine into a bag. She’d been told to bring only herself but decided disobeying just this once would be okay. She eyed the neatly wrapped package that contained Ollie’s gift, hesitated, and then held it for a moment. I’m not as skilled as she is. I hope she likes it anyway.
She forced her shoulders down and rubbed at her stomach. You made it. So she’ll love it.
Once everything was packed into the car, she went to change. She had chosen—with much help from Bethany and Timothy—a low-cut black blouse without a vest top underneath, something she’d never dare do at school. Grey trousers. A horrible jumper with a reindeer on. She packed her new slippers and some new pyjamas Patricia had bought her into a shoulder bag, climbed into her car, and set off.
A glance at her watch when she arrived confirmed she was right on time, exactly two in the afternoon. The door opened, and a mess of blond hair and shining eyes greeted her. Anna took in Ollie’s outfit with a short, sharp, pleased breath.
She had exchanged her usual skinny jeans for a pair of grey leggings and a tunic in navy blue. It had a wide neck, which showed off her collarbones, long sleeves, and an owl detail at the hip.
I’ve never seen her looking so feminine.
Anna’s mouth watered, and Ollie must have noticed her looking, because her cheekbones turned pink. Anna allowed her to take the shopping bag.
“Merry Christmas,” Anna finally said, her throat gravelly as she walked inside.
A smile shone from Ollie’s features. “Merry Christmas, comrade.”
Anna made the first move towards her, caught her jaw, and kissed her. Lavender swirled around them, and Ollie broke away briefly, her free hand at Anna’s waist.
“You look adorable,” she said, pointing at the reindeer jumper.
That made Anna laugh. “Well, I’m not allowed to wear it any other day of the year.”
Ollie lifted the bag. “I said you shouldn’t bring anything.”
“I know,” Anna replied, her bottom lip in her mouth. “I find I simply cannot arrive at someo
ne’s home for dinner without gifts. Whatever I am told.” Another kiss and Anna didn’t care that she’d disobeyed.
“I’ll have to forgive you, I suppose.” A teasing sparkle shone from Ollie’s eyes.
“Lead the way, soldier.”
Ollie strode up the stairs, her fist white with exertion on the banister. The image of that made Anna’s stomach swirl in sympathy.
The flat was decorated for Christmas. Pastel crocheted rings adorned the curtain rails and hung from some of the light fittings, like paper chains but made out of yarn. A plastic but stylish tree stood to the left of the wood burner with those snowmen and reindeer and fairy lights Ollie had described slowly blinking. The wood burner was already lit, and although it hadn’t warmed the room quite yet, it was crackling away and glowing yellow with flames.
There was a thick, new-looking rug by the wood burner, and Ollie had arranged cushions and crocheted throws around it like a nest. A small tray stood to one side and held a plate with small pieces of bread, cubes of cheese, and a pot of pickle. Two wine glasses stood on the tiled hearth, an open bottle of red wine beside them.
The setup made Anna’s breathing hitch while Ollie moved into the kitchen area with the bags. Her laughter rang through the kitchen, breaking Anna’s reverie.
Ollie was holding up the bottle of the same brand of red wine. “Great minds,” she said.
“Crumbs.” Anna went to stand with Ollie by the counter so she could have something to hold on to while she pulled her slippers out of the bag and tugged them onto her feet.
Ollie chuckled at her.
“We really are disgusting, aren’t we?” Anna smirked.
“Honestly.” Ollie shuffled the bottles and box to the back of the counter. “Matching outfits. Got to be done.”
Anna’s attention was drawn back into the living area. “Ollie, this is just…” There isn’t a word for how lovely this all is. She splayed her fingers in a gesture of huge proportions and took Ollie’s waist to pull her around to face her.
Ollie took the hint, sliding her hands to either side of Anna’s neck, her thumbs caressing her ears. She mirrored the look Anna gave her with a soft, twinkly one of her own, her smile widening when Anna sighed into the caresses. She leant forward to nuzzle her nose against Anna’s. “Wanted it to be special.”
Hooked on You Page 29
