The Startling Inaccuracy of the First Impression

by A. E. Radley

  In fact, Verity was surprised that the friendship they had built was still going strong. She wondered when it would start to wane. Probably when Katie was back to her usual self and started working again.

  Nothing had been mentioned about whether or not Katie would get another bike and begin courier work again. Verity hadn’t mentioned it because she had strong feelings on the subject; she didn’t want Katie to be a target and put herself at risk.

  If Katie did start delivering food again, Verity didn’t think she’d be able to sleep until she heard the motorbike engine return every night, signalling that Katie had safely returned.

  Her phone rang. She sat up in bed, took a quick sip of water, and answered the call.

  “Hello?”

  “It’s me,” Mary said. “I just wanted to check if you’re still okay to pick Callum up this afternoon?”

  Once, four months ago, there had been a miscommunication regarding which day Verity would be collecting Callum. Verity was positive that the child minder was picking him up from school; Mary was convinced that Verity was. History had shown that Mary had ultimately been the one who made the mistake. Callum had waited patiently with the teachers for forty minutes until Verity managed to get a taxi and hurry to the school. Since then, Mary called frequently to confirm dates and times.

  “Yes, I’m fine to get him this afternoon,” Verity replied.

  “Did… I just wake you up?” Mary asked.

  “I’ve been awake a little while, but not long.” Honesty was always the best policy as Mary wasn’t easily fooled.

  “Oh yes, it was a birthday party, wasn’t it?”

  “Yes. I may have indulged in a little too much drink,” Verity confessed.

  “Good, you need a little fun,” Mary said. “All Callum talks about is you and Katie. It sounds like you’re spending all your time caring for an invalid.”

  “She’s not an invalid,” Verity said. “Not anymore, anyway. She’s much better.”

  “Then why are you still spending so much time with her?” Mary asked.

  “I don’t know, we sort of got into the habit,” Verity admitted. She glanced at the wristwatch she still wore, and her eyebrows raised. It was ten o’clock. She’d assumed that she’d been awoken by the morning sun, but it seemed it had been awake far longer than she had. “Darling, can we talk later? I really need to get up and have a shower.”

  “Yes, sure, of course,” Mary said. “I’ll see you this evening when you drop Callum off.”

  “Absolutely, see you then.”

  Verity hung up the phone and slowly peeled herself away from the bed. She looked back at the rumpled sheets and the make-up-covered pillowcase. It looked like she’d be changing the bedding as well that morning.

  Once she’d had a cup of coffee.

  24

  A Visitor

  Katie watched Verity quietly prepare lunch. She’d turned up at half past eleven with slightly damp hair and a look of near panic in her eyes. Because of that, Katie decided not to tease her about their last two interactions.

  While Verity was strong and confident in many ways, it appeared she was shy and easily embarrassed in others.

  Ordinarily, Katie would want to push on that and use a few teasing comments to maybe extract some reaction, but it somehow felt wrong to do that to Verity.

  So, she invited her in and immediately launched into conversations about an article she’d been working on, the fact she was considering going out within the next couple of days, and a funny story she’d heard on the morning news.

  They’d easily slipped into their usual routine, Verity only slightly quieter than usual.

  Katie wondered at the fact that Verity’s comfort was so important to her. A few weeks ago, Katie wouldn’t have cared at all. She recalled the few terse encounters they’d shared, and the tit-for-tat slamming of doors they had both engaged in for a short period.

  They were friends now, quite unexpectedly. After the closeness of the previous day, Katie had to wonder if they could be more than friends. Verity was embarrassed but not standoffish, which perhaps indicated that she was interested in Katie.

  Katie sat at the dining table, pretending to read letters that had arrived in the morning post when in actuality she was using the opportunity to watch Verity.

  She often struggled with specifying how she felt about people. Everyone she had ever dated had asked her out. Katie took so long to decide if she would potentially be compatible with someone else that time often ran out on the possibility of asking them.

  Which explained how she had been in so many bad relationships, something that Katie was now desperate to avoid. Saying yes to people who asked her out, regardless of how she felt about them, had always been step one towards a terrible outcome.

  However, Katie struggled to identify if someone she was interested could possibly be interested in her. Her self-esteem was so low that she ignored signs of flirting, thinking the person was just being polite. It was usually hours later that she would wonder if she had misread signals, often deciding that she had but realising it was too late by then.

  Verity hadn’t outright flirted with her, but she had shown her feelings through other methods: preparing meals, assisting with proofreading, talking about her past, offering advice. All were things that could be read as friendship or something more. Katie felt ill-equipped to know which.

  But then there was the matter of the kiss. The almost kiss. Surely, that couldn’t be misconstrued.

  Katie refocused her attention on the bank statement she was pretending to analyse. In reality, she would usually sit in the living room while Verity made lunch, but today she felt a little uncertain and wanted to keep Verity in her line of sight. The friendship they’d built seemed a little more unstable that day than it had previously. The kiss, the fact Verity spent the night away, the embarrassment, and the drunken conversation had all created a strange blend of uncertainty.

  Their strange little setup had to come to an end soon, and Katie felt that was starting now. She wasn’t ready.

  “Are we eating in here?” Verity asked, without looking up.

  “If you don’t mind?” Katie gestured to the stack of paperwork on the table. She’d emptied out her paperwork drawer; it contained everything she’d ever received in the last two years. “I need to find an old council tax bill to prove I paid it; they are chasing me for some reason. Thought I’d take the opportunity to clear out my paperwork.”

  “The local council are useless,” Verity commented while cutting an apple into slices.

  “They are,” Katie agreed, “but this is actually from my previous place. They are also as useless.”

  Verity looked up with interest. “You never talk about your previous home or why you moved.”

  It was absolutely true that she didn’t, and Verity had tried to sneakily extract the information on more than one occasion. This was the first time that she’d been so forthright in asking.

  “No, I don’t,” Katie said, shutting down the conversation. She wasn’t ready to talk about it, didn’t know if she ever would be.

  “I’ve assumed you broke out of prison and you’re actually running from the authorities.” Verity placed a plate in front of her. “Probably money laundering.”

  Katie chuckled. “You’ve got me. But you better not say anymore, or I’ll have to kill you.”

  “Your secret is safe with me.”

  They ate lunch and then attacked the pile of paperwork on the table together. Verity considerately put paperwork containing personal information to one side for Katie to deal with on her own.

  Two hours went by in a flash, and Verity’s phone beeped a reminder that it was time to go and pick up Callum. She’d taken to setting an alarm ever since they got so caught up playing Monopoly the one time that her niece had called.

  Katie got the impression that Verity didn’t like being late or disorganised in anyway, which made the fact that she was so calm and kind with Katie’s ridiculously la
rge paperwork pile all the more impressive.

  “I’ll be back shortly,” Verity said as she pulled her blazer from the back of the dining room chair and slipped it on.

  “Cool, see you soon,” Katie replied.

  She enjoyed Callum’s afternoons with them. They played games, did colouring in, walked around the garden, and sometimes, if Verity was feeling generous, watched cartoons on Katie’s laptop.

  It was an interesting break from the norm, and Katie liked to see what nonsense Callum would come up with. She also liked to watch Verity with the young boy; Katie found nothing was more attractive than seeing someone engaging with a child with absolute devotion. Seeing someone love so plainly and unconditionally was something she’d not experienced or seen often. She found it beautiful to watch.

  It had only been a few minutes since Verity had left when the doorbell sounded. Katie looked around the table to see if Verity had left her bag or her phone. She found nothing and went to open the front door.

  A short woman in her thirties with short brown hair, glasses, and a determined look stood in the doorway. She looked tense, as if she had been preparing whatever she was about to say for some time and was now halfway between blurting it out or running away.

  Katie wondered if she was a salesperson on her first day.

  “Hi,” Katie said, raising her eyebrow.

  “I’m Mary Callahan.”

  The woman obviously thought that would mean something to Katie, but it didn’t. “I’m sorry, who?”

  “Callum’s mum,” she tried again.

  Katie wondered just who would call their child Callum Callahan. Especially before they knew for absolute certainty that the child in question didn’t have a stammer.

  “Oh. Hi?” Katie had no idea why the woman was there. Did she think Callum was there? Or Verity? Why was Verity off picking her son up from school when she was standing in front of Katie?

  She wore what Katie considered office wear, and she wondered if she was here on her lunch break.

  “I know what you’re up to,” Mary said, apparently finding the courage to get to her point.

  Katie frowned. The conversation was getting more and more confusing with every passing second.

  “I’m sorry?”

  “Leave her alone,” Mary ground out angrily.

  “What?”

  “My aunt, leave her alone,” Mary repeated. “I know what you’re doing, I’m onto you.”

  Katie wasn’t prepared for whatever was happening. “Look, I’m really not following you.”

  “I know that you know she’s got money,” Mary said. “And your little accident let you lean on her and get your claws into her. But enough is enough.”

  Katie opened and closed her mouth a couple of times. She was stunned by the turn of events.

  Mary had obviously waited for Verity to leave so she could come and warn Katie off her. And for some reason she thought Katie was after Verity’s money? Where on earth had that notion come from?

  “Look, Mary, I have no idea where you have gotten that idea from, but Verity and I are friends, nothing more,” Katie explained.

  “I won’t ask you again,” Mary said with a strength she so clearly didn’t feel. The short woman was almost vibrating with fear. “You stay away from her and from my son.”

  “I don’t control who Verity spends time with. If she wants to spend time with me, then that’s up to her,” Katie argued.

  Mary looked furious that the conversation wasn’t going the way she’d obviously hoped it would. “I’m watching you,” she said again before turning and marching up the garden path away from the house.

  Katie watched her leave before slowly closing the front door.

  She wasn’t one for conflict, and so the unexpected confrontation quickly took its toll. She leaned against the wall and sucked in a couple of fortifying breaths to keep herself calm.

  Mary thought she was a gold digger. Why she thought that, Katie had no idea. Had Verity said something? Or Callum? Callum did come out with a lot of silly conversations, but surely the concept of a gold digger was beyond his comprehension.

  Had Verity mentioned the almost kiss? Had that prompted Mary’s decision to warn her off?

  Katie couldn’t think clearly. She didn’t want to stop seeing Verity; it was nice to have her around. She enjoyed their conversations, their time together. Verity brought a stability to Katie’s life that she wasn’t ready to let go of yet.

  But Mary wasn’t going to let this go, Katie saw that clearly in her eyes. Mary was furious and absolutely certain that Katie had targeted Verity for her money. Katie might well think the same thing if their roles were reversed.

  She slowly walked back to the dining room, feeling the need to sit down and take stock of what had just happened.

  She could simply tell Verity about Mary’s unscheduled visit to warn Katie off. She was positive that Verity would be furious that her niece had acted that way.

  Katie sat down gingerly and held onto the table to ground herself. It was the first time since the accident that she’d had a confrontation with someone, and it had shaken her more than she thought it would.

  Mary was wrong; Katie was not after Verity’s money, but maybe she was right that Katie should stay away. Or at least keep things platonic between them.

  It wasn’t right to drag Verity into Katie’s messed-up life, even if there was an underlying attraction between them. They could remain friends, both still get social interaction out of their relationship without taking things any further.

  Mary would assume Katie was a threat if their relationship escalated. And Verity would be embroiled in the mess that was Katie Ross, something that Katie knew wasn’t fair on anyone but certainly not on someone as special as Verity.

  Katie hadn’t been certain what action, if any, she would take following the previous day’s events. Now she felt she knew what she needed to do: steer the relationship into solely friendship territory.

  It was best for everyone.

  Verity wouldn’t waste her time on someone as broken as Katie. Mary wouldn’t have to worry about Katie being after money, and Katie would feel good that she’d done the right thing.

  Except it didn’t feel so good at the moment.

  Katie swallowed and picked up a bank statement.

  “It’s the right thing to do,” she muttered to herself.

  25

  Piles of Paperwork

  “We’re here,” Verity called out while she extracted Callum from his coat in the hallway.

  Katie appeared in the doorway from the kitchen and offered a small wave.

  “Katie, can we play Uno?” Callum asked excitedly.

  “Sure, but I’m going to cheat,” she told him seriously.

  “No! You can’t cheat.” The moment he felt his coat was no longer attached to his arms he charged up the hallway towards Katie.

  “Oh, okay, I promise not to cheat,” Katie said while performing one of the most overly dramatic winks Verity had ever seen.

  “You winked!” Callum cried. “That means you’re lying. And you’ll cheat. Auntie Vere!”

  Verity laughed. She followed Callum and Katie into the dining room.

  “I don’t think you can cheat at Uno,” Verity told Callum. “It’s not like Monopoly where you can just raid the bank whenever you feel like it.”

  “Can I play in the garden with my football?” Callum asked, changing subject in a heartbeat as he so frequently did.

  “Yes, just be careful,” she told him.

  He picked up his football from the corner of Katie’s dining room, where it seemed to live these days. Verity unlocked and opened the backdoor, and he dashed outside about the same moment that Kitty dashed inside.

  She couldn’t really grumble about Kitty now officially spending more time in the downstairs apartment than the up, as Verity did, too. She returned to the kitchen and noted that nearly nothing had changed when it came to the paperwork pile.

  “You’ve b
een slacking,” she joked, picking up an unopened envelope from the pile yet to be sorted.

  She’d never seen a pile of paperwork like it. It was as if Katie opened around a tenth of her post and the rest got stored away.

  Katie exhibited all the signs of someone who had quite suddenly had to manage their own home with no support network. Paperwork was kept, but often envelopes were left unopened. Verity had found old bank statements, election leaflets from four years ago, a change of address confirmation from the DVLA, and more.

  The young woman seemed to genuinely fear paperwork, which was a surprise considering she was so very adept at managing her self-employed work life.

  Verity had caught sight of Katie’s work planner a couple of times and seen meticulous notes about invoicing, payment receipts, an account set aside for annual leave and sickness. Verity had been impressed with the level of organisation and detail.

  But the everyday paperwork seemed to instil a sense of foreboding in Katie, and so much of it ended up in a pile. Every time Verity needed to ask Katie a question about a piece of paper, Katie would keep her eyes lowered, her shoulders high, and offer a flimsy explanation as to why something hadn’t been dealt with.

  Verity attempted to keep the mood light, pretending that she also had a mountain of unopened life administration that needed to be sorted. She joked that if Katie did something terrible, then she’d bring it all downstairs as punishment.

  The truth was that Verity’s paperwork was organised in a filing cabinet, everything put into the correct hanging folder, much of it colour-coded by date. Letters were opened the day they arrived and processed within a couple of days at most.

  “Sorry,” Katie mumbled. She picked up a letter and started to read it.

  “I was only joking,” Verity said. “We don’t have to finish this now if you don’t want to. We have been working on it for a while.”

  “I’d like to finish it,” Katie said. “I’ll never do it on my own.”