Unsuitable

by Ainslie Paton

  “Won’t we wake her?”

  “I used to take conference calls with London and New York from bed with her beside me. She slept though everything. She’ll be fine.” But Reece was clearly uncomfortable. “Don’t worry. I’m keeping you from—”

  He put his knee on the bed. “Shove over.”

  Mia had half of the bed and a pillow to herself and was sleeping again. Audrey turned on her side and wriggled closer to Mia. Reece sat beside her, his back against the headboard. She was inside the sheet and blanket, he was out. He wore track pants and a t-shirt but he would get cold.

  “You need to come under the blanket.”

  “I can’t do that.”

  “You’ll get cold.”

  “You’ll get spooned.”

  She smiled into the dark. “I’m absolutely fine with that.”

  His warmth as he slid under the blanket was like the sun rising on her back. He kept the sheet between them, but manoeuvred them into an approximation of teaspoon nestled against a serving spoon. His arm around her chased the night terrors away. “What do you dream about?” His voice so soft, so close to her ear made her shiver.

  “I suppose I’m dreaming about death.”

  His arm tightened around her waist. “How long has this been going on?”

  “Since I got home.”

  “And you never mentioned it.”

  “By the time I’ve slept again I can hardly remember what it’s about and I can’t summon the dread once the sun’s up.” He brushed hair away and kissed the back of her neck, it put goose bumps all over her. She put her hand over his. “It’s usually a repeat pattern. I’m always running late and I never arrive and I let everyone down. People stand around and I should be there and I’m missing, just missing.” She shuddered, the dream was always filmy and grey, it was always raining. “I’m worried about going back to work. I’m worried about this having a lasting effect on Mia.”

  Reece stroked her hair. “I don’t have any wisdom for you. I wish I did.”

  “I’m not going to die.” That was the problem; she kept thinking about how close an escape she’d had.

  He tugged her closer. “Not till you’re old and wrinkly.”

  “I am going to have to fight to get my place back at work.”

  “I’ll do whatever I can to help.” And he would, she had no doubt about that. In theory they should’ve set a date for him to move out, but she’d let that drift and he’d let her.

  “Mia is going to get to sixteen and hate my guts in the normal mother daughter way.”

  “Etta could give her lessons.”

  Audrey hugged Reece’s arm tighter. “Thank you.”

  He twisted a strand of her hair around his finger. “I didn’t do anything.”

  “You’ve interrupted your whole life for Mia and me. You’re sleeping in someone else’s house, when you get to sleep, that is. You’re doing all kinds of chores that aren’t part of your job. I would be lost without you.”

  In her dream there was always a figure standing in the shadows. She knew she had to get to that figure, indistinct but critically important. It stood steady, never moved, but though she rushed, and fought and tried different approaches, she never got any closer. She was blocked and waylaid and lost sight of where she was going; she was rushing and late and sick with worry.

  She’d spent weeks thinking the shadowy figure was a metaphor for work, but what if it wasn’t? What if that figure was Reece and the reasons she didn’t want him to go were more profound than she’d expected?

  His breathing was deep. The fingers in her hair had stilled. He was falling asleep. “Reece?”

  He shook himself and withdrew his arm. “What?”

  She could sleep now too.

  He rolled out of the bed. “See you in the morning.” He went to his room and in the morning his laughter woke her. She bundled into her dressing gown and padded out to the kitchen. She’d been self-conscious about Reece seeing her looking so tragic in the hospital, and so mumsy and unglamorous now, but he’d never looked at her any differently, and it wasn’t like she needed to impress him.

  He was dressed but he hadn’t shaved and Mia had discovered whiskers for the first time. And Audrey discovered a new reason to look at Reece, to want to lock him in the house and keep him. The stubble made him look rougher, darker, altogether more dangerous. His unshaven face fitted his size in a way that reminded her of it. She’d gotten used to the giant of him. The potential damage of him was thoroughly neutralised by the way he carried himself so carefully, but with that darkness on his jaw, around his mouth, she could imagine him as more intimidating.

  “They grow in the night?” Mia shrieked with laugher. “What happens if you don’t take them off?”

  Reece leant down so she could touch his face. “I’ll look like Santa.”

  Mia shrieked again, almost falling off her stool. He’d look like a man to avoid in a shady alley, a man who made her heart beat much too fast under her daggy fleece dressing gown.

  “I can sit on your knee and ask for presents,” said Mia.

  Reece, ho, ho, hoed, and standing in the sunny kitchen listening to Mia giggle, it was easy to believe everything would be all right, despite screaming in the night, and very hard not to think about contriving a way to sit on Reece’s knee herself.

  Of course that couldn’t happen. Reece and Mia had plans, a big day, lots to do and Audrey was seeing Les for a brief catch up on work, but now she wished she’d let that go for another day and tagged along with Sexy Santa and his Helper.

  The house was desperately quiet when they left. She dressed and wandered around at a loose end and was grateful Les was early. And brought pastries.

  “You’re still too way-heyhey too skinny, Aud. But you look better.”

  Les looked different too, was it the suit, had she lost weight? “Have you changed your hair?” A safe query.

  “I’ve, um. No.”

  She’d done something. Audrey let it go and made a pot of tea to go with the Portuguese tarts. They talked Audrey’s health, her projected return to work date and then Les put the ticking bomb that could blow up Audrey’s career on the table.

  “They’re making cutbacks.”

  “Oh. But from the executive ranks?”

  “Mostly from the executive ranks. That gets rid of the more expensive people.”

  “How do you know this?”

  “I snooped.” Les slumped. “I’m naughty. I shouldn’t have done it and no one knows except you. But what gets left under the lid of the photocopier nearest the CEO’s office is fair game. They were lucky it was me, not some gossip.”

  “When does this happen?”

  “Sometime this month, at a guess.”

  Audrey’s turn to slump. There was nothing she could do about it. If she’d been earmarked for retrenchment the decision would’ve been made well before now and Dr Barber was insistent she didn’t return to work before she was one hundred percent well. There was a real risk she’d have no job to go back to when that day arrived.

  “My name would have to be on that list. I don’t have an active work portfolio. My team all report to someone else. I left behind a problem with suppliers. I made it easy for them to get rid of me.”

  Les looked miserable, her work area wasn’t threatened; as a commercial lawyer she was a specialist. “You can’t think like that.”

  But they both knew it was smart to. They both ate a second tart. Audrey tried not to think about the mortgage, about the expenses not covered by her health insurance and her extended sick leave. She had savings, but it would take a while to get a new job at her level. It could take twelve months. If it took longer she’d have to sell the house, she’d have to down size before that. It would no longer be a matter of when Reece stopped sleeping over at night, but when she let him go, because if she wasn’t working she could care for Mia herself and save his salary.

  “You’ve gone very pale, Aud.”

  “I’m thinking about what
’s in the bank and how generous the retrenchment package might be.” She was thinking about how soon she’d need to say goodbye to Reece and how Mia would hate that. And how that was worse even than the fear of losing her job. She shook her head. There was nothing she could do about this threat until it realised.

  “Tell me what’s different about you? There’s something.”

  Les flushed. “I’m seeing someone.”

  “Wow.” There was a jolt of pure happiness for Les. “When did this happen?”

  “Around the time you got sick.”

  “Where did you meet this someone?”

  “The first time with you. The second time at your front door. I’m seeing Marcus Pollidore.”

  “Reece’s flatmate, Polly? Faux Mo who fixed my door?”

  Les was an unhealthy shade of pink. “It’s a bit of madness and it’s bound to end badly and I’ll be suicidal. But Aud, I really like him and I’m so totally acting like a teenager, not a grown-up with her own property portfolio. He’s so unsuitable. I mean really. He never went to uni. He’s barely read a book in his life. He used to organise street fights, illegal street fights for God’s sake.”

  Audrey blinked at Les in amazement.

  “But you kissed Reece and when I knew that, I forgot to be shy with Polly.”

  Another jolt, this time an unpleasant shock. Was Reece boasting about kissing her? She felt a wave of nausea. “How do you know that? Who else knows?”

  Les winced. “It came out at the hospital. They wanted to know how close the contact the two of you had to assess his risk of contagion. He had to say it and we were all standing there. He tried so hard not to.” Les’ eyes flicked to the ceiling as Audrey’s stomach roiled. “It was so awkward.”

  “Esther. Oh my God.”

  “No, no, before Esther arrived.”

  That was a kindness. It was hard to conceive how hateful Esther might’ve been towards Reece had she witnessed him admitting to that kind of intimacy.

  “Are you, you know, are you and Reece?” Les was asking the haircut question. Without the haircut.

  Audrey shook her head. She was concerned about people knowing how she felt about Reece. But Merrill would’ve picked up on it too. Esther certainly had. She went to the kettle, filled it and turned it on. “Oh God, Les. We’ve kissed, we’ve made out, but that’s all. It’s not appropriate, it’s not.”

  It was incendiary. It was rearranging her biology to resist him any longer. She wanted him in her bed. Preferably when Mia was safely in her own. He’d been reluctant about getting into bed with her while Mia slept. It was a testament of her trust in him that it’d simply felt loving.

  “He kisses me like he’s never going to kiss anyone else ever again. He’s so totally amazing with Mia and I’ve needed the support and he’s been here, and I’m making excuses. I am so deep in lust with him I can hardly stand it.”

  Les clapped her hands and bounced on the stool.

  “He let Mia watch him shave this morning and I had this uncontrollable urge to ring around the playgroup gang and farm Mia out so I could take him to bed and keep him there all day.”

  “What’s stopping you?”

  “Everything. Nothing. Mia. My health. My mother in my head. Are you sleeping with Polly?”

  “Not yet, and that’s because I haven’t worked out how I want my heart broken, before or after he sees me naked. I’ve only got one shot at this.” Les flicked her fingers at the cake box. “Pass me another tart.”

  “Oh, Les.”

  “I know I know, two is enough.”

  Audrey passed the box. “Have the tart. What does Polly say?”

  “He says he likes me the way I am, but you’ve seen him. He’s like this.” Les held up the tart. “Melt in the mouth flaky pastry and too good to be fat free custard. Totally delicious and incredibly popular. There’s no way this is anything but a scam for him. I don’t know, a walk on the lard side. I am going to get so dumped, but I’d like to avoid getting humiliated in the process.” She bit into the tart and moaned her satisfaction.

  “You can’t sleep with a guy you think is going to humiliate you.”

  “I can. I will, eventually. Because I’m never going to get offered anything as prime as his rib again and I want that, just the once, and I’ll get over it. Better to have, etcetera, etcetera.”

  “Are you sure?

  “You do remember what he looks like? The bad boy groove, those tatts, the hair, the muscles. He’s big enough to make me feel small. And he’s funny. We enjoy hanging out together. I lay shit on him and he bats it straight back. He says I’m different. He’s taught me how to play Mortal Combat, World of Warcraft and Halo, and I can wop his very fine arse at all of them. But at the end of the day I am fat old Les the lawyer and he is the spunky part owner in his own building company, who’s had more sexual conquests than Mortal Combat has fatalities. Polly and I—we are not a match. But you and Reece. Audrey, he fought for you and Mia. When we didn’t know what was best for you, he did. And we were too up ourselves to listen to him.”

  Audrey’s tea had gone cold, right as her brain went hot. “I can’t sleep with my nanny.” Why did the stunning clarity of that knowledge make her miserable?

  “Why not?”

  “Mia. Power. Gender politics. Age difference. It’s not right for Reece. The fact that I’ve been thinking about doing it means I’m still not in my right mind. They told me my emotions would be all over the place. I can’t make any decisions that would have lasting consequences right now.”

  Les’ eyes went lawyer mode. She narrowed them as she focused her argument. “Lasting consequences? You’re talking about sex, really great sex, not marriage. Neither of you would do anything to hurt Mia. You both know how to use discretion, and you can palm her off on Merrill or playgroup, or me, worst case. Power is an issue. You’re his employer. There’s even an issue about the whole sexual favours for money—”

  “—Don’t say—”

  “Prostitution.”

  Audrey put her face in her hands. She had to ask Reece to move out tonight. She didn’t trust herself when he was around. She was confused about her moral obligations, her responsibilities. This was just a version of cabin fever, being contained in the house with only Reece for adult company.

  “Now, gender politics and age difference. You have looked at that man? You do know how he looks at you? He should carry a warning label. Liable to cause heart palpitations. Do not place near monitoring equipment. In the hospital I thought he might blow things up just the way he looked at you. I kept expecting crash carts to appear. So if you think age difference is a real thing, I need to hit you with something hard. And gender politics.” Les took a breath, she was nowhere near done. Audrey assumed a crash position, folding her arms in front of her face. It had no effect on Les.

  “What you do in the bedroom, or the kitchen or the bathroom, or any room you feel like doing the deed in with that beautiful man, is your own goddamn business. But I have every intention of making it my business if you wuss out for the wrong reasons.”

  Audrey brought her arms down. She was confused. She’d expected Les to side with her sensible self, warn her off with pragmatism and a wistful lament for possibilities gone to waste. They’d drink more tea, regret the tarts, and gossip about Reece. It would feel very schoolgirl and non-threatening, and Audrey would square her shoulders, be an adult about it all and stop mucking around with Reece’s affections. Somehow.

  But this Les, playing computer games with another significantly younger and equally unsuitable man, and ready to risk her heart on him, was an unexpected phenomenon, like a storm front she hadn’t battened down for. Audrey was fast getting swept away.

  “What’s the right reason?” she said, confused, miserable and frustrated.

  Les grinned. “You aren’t absolutely dying to have his hands on you. To climb up that great tree trunk of a body, suck that delicious mouth and cling like a koala while he eviscerates any memory you’ve ever had
of seriously hot sex.”

  Audrey collapsed into a kitchen chair. She couldn’t look at Les. She was a woman on the edge. On the edge of regaining her health, on the edge of losing her job, on the edge of her first orgasm in too long to remember. Did she even remember how to do sex? She’d totally flaked out in the fairy palace. And it wasn’t going to be sex for comfort or thanksgiving, proximity or absence. If she went to Reece she wasn’t going as his boss or his pay cheque, his girlfriend or his mother. She was going because she’d started to touch herself in the shower wishing it was his big, warm hand on her thigh, his thick fingers stroking her open, because she couldn’t look at him without wanting him, because being near him made her body feel renewed after feeling so dreadful, and because he’d given her permission, and showed her he wanted her too.

  But it could only be once. One night. One encounter to clear the air, straighten things out between them and then end it, before things went too deep.

  She lifted her head. Les had reboiled the kettle and was making a new pot of tea. “I bet Polly would go for lingerie.”

  Les scrunched her face.

  “I’m thinking something silky and pretty.”

  “You might be right.” Les’ eyes popped wide as she caught on. “I might not need to get so—”

  “Naked.”

  “Right.”

  “Unless you wanted to.”

  “Unless. Oh shit, Aud. I really want to get naked with Polly. That whole koala thing, I was talking about me.”

  They laughed. They drank tea. They spoke in cartoon Spanish accents and didn’t regret the Portuguese tarts. Audrey took a nap when Les left, falling asleep easily, staying there willingly. She had a sex dream. Reece was in the shower with her. Everything was slippery and he left her in the water to bring a rubber mat so they wouldn’t fall and she laughed in the dream because that’s so what he would do.

  She was out of her head over this man.

  She woke when Mia and Reece came home and lay listening to them trying to be quiet. Reece bundled Mia onto the lounge for a story. He read Where the Wild Things Are, but he changed Max to Mia. He described Mia’s bedroom as a lush jungle. He built her an imaginary boat to sail away on from made-up furniture, and he crowned her Queen of the Wild Things. He quadrupled the length of the story, adding in all kinds of invented details, ridiculously daft monsters and Mia’s favourite foods, and every time he said Mia’s name she giggled, and every time that happened, Audrey fell more under his enchantment.