by Isla Gordon
‘Sure. Do you?’
‘Not really,’ he laughed. ‘But technically, yes. Do you want to have lunch next week, maybe Tuesday?’
Poppy nodded. ‘Let me know what time and where you make a reservation. I like seafood.’
‘All right,’ he replied, again. ‘Tuesday it is.’
‘Tuesday it is,’ she echoed. ‘Bye, Flynn.’
‘Bye, Poppy.’ And just like that, Flynn Miyoshi was branching out and going on a date.
Chapter 42
August
August closed her eyes and imagined herself as a seventeen year old. ‘I am Catherine Morland,’ she whispered out loud. ‘I’m living in Northanger Abbey. I am Catherine Morland.’
She stood in her bedroom, her wonderful bedroom in her wonderful home – seriously, it was hard to concentrate when she had to keep pinching herself that she actually lived here – wearing the same ensemble she’d walked the promenade in during the Jane Austen Festival. With her audition creeping very close now, August was spending every waking hour rehearsing. In the shower, she recited her lines. At work, she found herself adjusting her posture and facial expressions in accordance to the scene playing out in her head. The language she used in emails and press releases began to have a flowery, early nineteenth century ring to it.
Catherine Morland was the leading lady in Jane Austen’s Northanger Abbey. That’s right, August was going big or going home. The way she saw it was, she’d taken a chance on landing her dream home on Elizabeth Street and it had paid off. Who’s to say what else she could achieve if she took the risk?
Flynn had been so busy with work that they hadn’t spent much time together since the kiss, but she still found her heart jumping when their paths crossed in the mornings, or if she got out of bed for a glass of water in the night to find him hunched over his laptop on the sofa, his glasses on, his brow furrowed. She’d make him a cup of tea and leave him to it, and then dream nice dreams of him and wish he was in his own room, dreaming and peaceful. She wondered if he had been thinking about their kiss, like she had. But she didn’t ask.
Instead, she worked tirelessly, fine-tuning her lines, the scene she would be reading having been sent to her by email when she registered. As the big day drew closer, until it was only a week away, tiny sparkles of hope grew inside her. She just might get this. She just might be on the verge of having her big break into theatre.
The thought was daunting, and the thought was powerfully exciting.
Chapter 43
Flynn
Flynn and Poppy met for lunch, and then met for lunch again a week later. After grabbing takeout sandwiches, Poppy insisted they use the rest of the hour for Flynn to show her where he lived. He was reluctant at first, not because it seemed like a come-on, but because of how it would look to his neighbours if he came home in the middle of the day with a pretty woman while his ‘wife’ was at work.
‘I’m not trying to jump your bones,’ Poppy said, rolling her eyes at him. ‘I’m just interested. You made the view sound amazing, and we could both do with stretching our legs. When was the last time you took your full lunch hour?’
He couldn’t argue with that, much as he needed to.
They approached the house and he scanned the area for neighbours, but the coast was clear. Poppy stopped outside the front door. ‘Is this your humble abode?’ she asked.
‘This is the one,’ he answered, reaching for his keys. ‘How did you know?’
‘You said it was at the top of the hill with a great view, and here we are.’ Poppy gestured around her. ‘Must be nice to live here.’
‘It is,’ he paused to follow her gaze, keeping his hands in his pockets to avoid any sudden and unexpected PDA from Poppy.
Poppy turned away from the outlook quicker than he would have expected, considering they’d just traipsed all the way up here. Facing the house she asked, ‘Which floor is yours?’
‘We’re on the first floor, so the middle, if you don’t count the top level – the one with the windows slightly set back. That’s where the landlady lives.’
‘What’s she like?’
Flynn shrugged. ‘Strict, but actually quite welcoming. We don’t know her that well.’
‘ … We?’
‘My flatmate and I. I told you about her – August.’
‘Ah yes, your flatmate August.’ Poppy walked up to the front door and then looked back at Flynn. ‘You’re going to show me the inside, aren’t you?’
Flynn barely said a word as they ascended the stairs to the first floor, for fear of alerting the other residents. Only when he and Poppy were in the apartment and the door closed did he speak again, offering her a drink.
‘Sure,’ she said, and began moving through the flat, looking along the shelves.
The wedding photos. Flynn jumped into action, striding over to stand beside Poppy and turning her towards him. ‘I have to show you this view,’ he said, and quick as a flash while her back was turned, he managed to spin two picture frames to face the back.
‘The same view I just saw from outside?’ Poppy asked, her eyebrows raised.
‘Yep, but it’s just … wow … ’ Flynn gazed out of the window in wonder.
‘I’ll tell you what view I do like,’ Poppy purred, and before he could say another word she was in front of him, pressing her lips against his for the first time.
It took Flynn a moment to appreciate what was happening. Poppy’s kiss was soft yet insistent. He let himself enjoy Poppy, who was here with him now, and it was nice to get lost in the moment. Because, for now at least, he could forget about Yui. He could even forget about August, for just a few seconds.
Chapter 44
August
Inside her cupboard-slash-recording booth, August removed her headphones, rolled her neck and was about to let out a satisfied ‘Mmmmm’, cooling down her voice after a job well done, when she heard from behind the door somebody else beat her to it.
‘Mmmmm,’ said the distinctly female voice, and August froze. The voice then spoke again, purring, ‘That was nice.’
Who the HELL is in my apartment? August thought, and was about to kick open the door of her booth and wallop them one when she heard Flynn. She pressed her ear against the door.
‘Can I get you that drink?’ he asked.
She stopped breathing. Did Flynn have a girlfriend? How did she not know about this? Memories of their kiss came flooding back and she couldn’t make sense of it all, of how while she’d been reliving the moment and thinking of him as somebody who could be more than a friend, he’d been having that with someone new.
Also, Flynn was never home at this time of the day, what was going on? But then, to be fair, she would usually still be at work too, if they hadn’t let her cut her day short at lunchtime to practise her lines for the audition tomorrow. August suspected it was because she kept talking to everyone like she was a Regency lady, walking about with her hands clasped in front of her, and it was getting infuriating for the rest of the team. So she had come home, and had been in the booth ever since, recording herself going through her audition piece and then listening to it back, critiquing every word.
August knew she should come out of hiding, let them know she was there. It would be so awkward because they’d assume she’d been in there listening to them kissing, but she couldn’t stay in there in case they started to do more …
She heard the female voice closer now, like she was standing right to the side of the door, looking at the objects on their shelf, and put her hand against the door to push it open just as the voice said, ‘So what’s your flatmate like?’
August couldn’t leave now. She tried to make out what Flynn was saying, though he was clearly over in the kitchen.
‘She sounds like a good person to live with,’ the woman said, sliding to her right. August felt her directly on the other side of the door now, they were face to face, and August wondered if she was scrutinising the door-shaped slits in the wall, wondering what was
behind it.
‘She is,’ Flynn said, his voice clearer now he’d obviously moved back closer.
Wow, her recording booth really wasn’t that soundproofed after all. It cut out an awful lot of background noise to the point that if nobody else was in the apartment it was completely silent, but with someone talking right outside the door, muffled though it was, you could hear exactly what they were saying. If she wanted to start working in here seriously, she’d need to fix that.
‘What time will she be home?’ the woman asked.
‘I’m not sure,’ said Flynn.
If August had to guess, she’d be willing to bet that the woman was waiting for Flynn to invite her to stay a while. But just as likely could be that they were already back to doing whatever it was they’d been doing when she first removed her headphones. Oh God, what if they were naked out there?
‘Come here,’ the woman said, and August was certain they were kissing up against the wall. She felt like a voyeur, and wished she’d come out of the booth immediately. She also felt a little bit lonely. She knew what that kiss felt like.
August was about to put her headphones back on when she heard the woman say, ‘Thanks for showing me where you live. Maybe I could spend a little longer here with you next time.’
She held her breath as the two of them made very definite sounds of leaving the apartment. There was no goodbye, so Flynn must have left too, or at the very least be showing her out.
Quick as she could, August cracked open the door of her booth, checked for signs of Flynn or anybody else, and army-rolled out onto the floor. She grabbed her handbag and keys, hoping to leave the apartment before Flynn came back, so she could stroll in casually a while later like she’d never been there.
August listened against her front door, and peered through the peephole, but the landing was deserted. She slid out through the door, ninja-style, letting it click softly behind her.
Racing down the stairs, she hesitated at the bottom. What if they were right outside? She opened the door a tiny slit and looked out. Nothing, the street was deserted.
Breathing a sigh of relief, August slipped out the door only to pause on the front step. The recording booth – she’d left the door open. If Flynn returned before her, he’d know she’d been in there.
Looking left and right, and left and right again, she made the decision to run back inside, taking the steps two at a time. Bursting back into her flat she hurdled the sofa, slammed the booth door closed, triple-backflipped her way back out the door (well, not quite, but it felt like that) and back down the stairs. She would exit the building, skirting down to the right and heading down the hill in the opposite direction to where Flynn was probably walking, or standing, with his mystery woman.
In her rush, August made a fatal error. She forgot to listen at the front door of the house again.
Had she listened, August would have heard Callie firing questions at Flynn. She would have heard Flynn stammering for excuses. But she heard none of this, whirling out the door and facing both of them together.
‘August!’ Flynn said, surprised.
‘Flynn!’ she replied. ‘Callie!’
‘August!’ exclaimed Callie. ‘So you were at home.’
‘Um.’
‘I thought you weren’t at home and young Flynny-boy here was up to no good with that redhead,’ Callie continued with a chuckle and a slightly-too-hard punch on Flynn’s upper arm.
‘No, no, I was here the whole time,’ August smiled and caught Flynn’s eye. He blushed.
‘Sorry for the third degree, there, Flynn, I just saw you come out there with that girl, and she’s so pretty, and I thought, oh yeah, when the cat’s away, eh? I don’t bloody think so, no lying to my friend August.’ Callie laughed, and August’s stomach twisted.
‘That was just our mutual friend,’ August tried to laugh it off.
‘Poppy,’ Flynn added. ‘A lifelong friend.’
‘Poppy,’ confirmed August, wondering who Poppy was, and what she meant to Flynn.
Callie waved her hands. ‘Problem solved, crisis averted, as you were, soldiers. I’ll let you go about your day. Are you two coming in or going out?’
‘I’m coming in,’ answered Flynn, his eyes on August.
‘I was just going to pop out for a bit,’ said August, inching past them, not quite wanting to face Flynn at the moment.
‘Are you sure you don’t want to go out later?’ asked Flynn, full of smiles. ‘I have to get back to the office but we could catch up for a few minutes now Poppy’s gone?’
‘Nope, I need some fresh air,’ August said, and ran away down the hill.
Chapter 45
Flynn
Flynn was still stewing over the fact there was a real problem with getting any privacy, living here, when August reappeared in the flat at the end of the day, clutching a bag with doughnuts from the coffee shop. ‘Peace offering?’ she said, holding them out to Flynn.
He stood up from where he was sitting at the table and folded his arms. ‘Nice afternoon?’
August eyed him. ‘Yep. I had to get to the library, do some snogging up on – SWOTTING up on – Austen. So you have a … ’
‘A Poppy.’
‘Right. A Poppy.’
‘It’s very new, that’s why I hadn’t … ’ he trailed off, unsure how much explanation she wanted, or how much explaining he wanted to do. ‘Where were you at lunchtime? I checked your room when Poppy and I arrived.’
August’s eyes slid towards the cupboard in the wall.
‘You were in there?’
‘Yep. But I didn’t hear anything, I promise. Well, not much, not until the … end. I’d been recording and I had my headphones on and my volume loud, checking all the words were clear. The first I was aware of anyone else even being in here was just after she said … ’
Flynn asked, ‘What?’
‘She made a sort of yummy sound and said something was nice. And then I nearly came out, but I got worried you’d think I’d been listening to the whole thing, and that the two of you would be naked, and then—’
‘Whoa,’ Flynn laughed. ‘She was here for literally five, maybe ten minutes. We didn’t do anything. Apart from kiss.’ He looked bashful at that.
‘No, please, you should do whoever, I mean whatever, you want in here,’ August said, flustered.
Flynn replied, just as flustered, ‘No, I know, I just mean, you didn’t hear anything … scarring.’ They were both quiet for a moment until Flynn said, ‘Lucky we weren’t staying around for long. She just wanted to see where I lived.’
‘She came all the way up that hill just to see where you lived?’
He shrugged, ‘She was interested.’
‘Interested in you asking her in for more than a tour, I expect,’ August said, and then clamped a hand over her mouth. ‘Sorry, probably overstepped enough boundaries for today by hiding in the wall and listening to you snogging, like a pervert. So how did you meet her? Is she from your work?’
‘I met her a little while ago at the pub. It’s … I don’t know. I don’t know what it is.’
August nodded and Flynn stared at the ground for the moment, his arms still folded, feeling guarded and a little embarrassed. He hadn’t planned for this to happen today. He hadn’t really planned for any of this, as far as Poppy was concerned. She was just suddenly in his life.
As was August.
He sighed. ‘We need to think about how we’re going to date people while we live together.’
‘I really am sorry; I didn’t realise you were dating.’
‘No, no,’ he backtracked. ‘You have nothing to apologise for, and I’m not dating really, this thing with Poppy is very new and I’m not really sure what’s happening with it, I just mean in general, bringing dates home, whether that’s you or me, next week or next year, we just need to figure out a solution to the whole “the neighbours think we’re married” thing. Another solution.’
‘If it helps, I’m not seeing a
nyone, and don’t really have any interest in seeing anyone, so you can just tell whoever that anyone you bring home is a lifelong friend.’
‘That doesn’t seem sustainable,’ Flynn said. ‘Perhaps we just tell our dates the truth?’
‘How do you think Poppy would feel about it?’
He considered this. ‘I don’t know her very well, but I think she might run for the hills instead of get caught up in our baggage.’
August nodded. ‘Pretty sure if I was dating someone who was like, Guess what, I have a mega-hot housemate who everyone thinks I’m married to and we have to hold hands and kiss sometimes, is that cool? I would probably run a mile.’
‘Exactly.’ Flynn met August’s eyes. ‘Wait, which one of us in the mega-hot housemate in your scenario?’
‘I am, obviously. Flynn, did you, were you two … ’ August trailed off while she found her words. ‘Were you two seeing each other when we, um, kissed. You know, the Malibu-fuelled-proper-kiss?’
Of course he knew which kiss she meant. He found himself glancing at her lips now, and then a wave of guilt rushed over him, because earlier that day he’d been kissing Poppy. He should not be thinking about August in any way other than as a flatmate. ‘No,’ he answered, looking her in the eye instead. ‘I did meet her briefly before that, but nothing happened. We only met again, properly, after you and I, um, kissed.’
August seemed pleased about that, though did he imagine the second or so that she lingered in front of him? Did he imagine that hovering in the air between them were words left unsaid, and ghosts of kisses?
Chapter 46
August
August had the whole of the Friday off, ready for the big audition in the early afternoon. Before Flynn left for work that morning, he made her three pancakes and a thick banana smoothie, knowing she’d probably be too nervous to eat come lunchtime.
