Fitting In

by Amanda Radley

  Leo folded his arms over his chest. “Go on.”

  Heather regarded him with curiosity. He looked unperturbed, as if he was about to hear a story about two little girls who couldn’t share a hairband.

  “She told Scarlett that she was weird; she claimed that she thought she could ‘fix her’ but realised she couldn’t. She told Scarlett that she was too much hard work to be around and that she would never find anyone willing to love her,” Heather explained, touching only on the important points. “She utterly broke Scarlett’s heart, not just because she ended the relationship but because she made Scarlett feel she was in some way broken and unable to be loved.”

  Leo’s eyes slowly widened. His jaw tensed, and he lowered his hands to grip at the armrests of his chair.

  “She said what?” His voice was a cold, harsh whisper.

  If Heather hadn’t been worried about dating the boss’s daughter before, she was now.

  “Those are the relevant points,” Heather finished, taking another sip of coffee.

  Leo leapt out of his chair, causing it to fall backwards. He ran a frustrated hand over his head and stalked over towards the window.

  This was the Leo Flynn that Heather had read about in old newspaper articles. The man who made grown men cry. The temper, the throwing of things. She could see it all now.

  Heather sat still and quiet and waited for him to calm down. A full two minutes passed of Leo staring out the window with such a force that Heather wondered if the glass might melt.

  He slowly turned. “Scratch that plan. Steph will not be coming here. In fact, she’ll be looking for a new job.”

  Heather wanted to argue, not wanting the woman to be fired over a non-work-related conversation regarding a non-work-related incident which had happened a long time ago. On the other hand, she didn’t want to stand up for her at all. Steph deserved everything she got.

  “I’m sorry.” Heather meant it; she was sorry. She didn’t want Leo to have to deal with the situation. She didn’t want to deal with it herself.

  “Well.” Leo picked up his chair and righted it. He sat down again. “I suppose I know now.”

  “You do.”

  Leo tapped a folder on the desk. “In light of the fact that we won’t have Steph on this project any longer, can I run through her report with you now? Just to get your feedback on it.”

  “Absolutely.” Heather was eager to help and also eager to fix Leo’s mood.

  “Eagle One, report immediately to FC Level Two. Mister Smith. Repeat, Mister Smith.”

  Heather grabbed the radio from the charging cradle behind her desk and jumped to her feet.

  “What’s that about?” Leo asked, concern evident in his tone.

  “It’s code. There’s someone in the upper level of the food court with a weapon,” Heather explained, already on her way out of her office.

  47

  The Incident

  Ravi stood with his arms as wide as he could, members of the public behind him and the knifeman in front of him.

  He’d been grabbing a takeaway breakfast when he heard the commotion. Tables were pushed out of the way and chairs clattered to the floor as people tried to get away from the middle-aged man cloaked in a long, black coat.

  Ravi hadn’t heard what the man was screaming, but he’d seen the knife and quickly radioed it in before starting to do some crowd control.

  “Get back!” he shouted to the people behind him.

  If the knifeman chose to, he could run at people and cause quite some damage before they could stop him. The centre hadn’t fully opened yet, but that only meant that the food court was busy with people getting food and drink while waiting for shops to open their shutters.

  “I’ll do it! I’ll kill you!” the knifeman shouted, seemingly not to any single person. He waved the knife around menacingly; it caught the light and Ravi saw just how powerful a weapon it was.

  He’d radioed security first, so he knew they were on the way and that they would have contacted the police. But even if the police rushed, it would be a while before they arrived. It was early morning, with rush hour traffic, and they would have to get to the centre and then to the food court.

  Thankfully, workers from various restaurants had jumped over their counters and were assisting Ravi in holding customers back and allowing them to escape the area as quickly as possible. It wasn’t lost on him that they were effectively acting as a human shield for members of the public.

  Members of the public who were screaming and running around in their attempts to leave the food court through the crowded corridors. Silver Arches simply wasn’t built to have a few hundred people all running out of the food court at one time.

  “What’s the situation?”

  Ravi almost sighed in relief at Heather’s voice beside him.

  “Just this one guy with a knife, no idea what he wants. I was trying to clear the crowd before trying to deescalate. Security have been called and have responded.”

  Heather put a firm hand on his shoulder and pulled him farther back, taking his place.

  “My name is Heather. I’m in charge,” Heather called out to the knifeman.

  Ravi stepped back, focusing on getting everyone out of the food court while the man was preoccupied. He saw Leo standing next to him, staring at the scene in horror.

  “Just another day?” Leo asked Ravi.

  “No, I’m as out of my depth as you are on this one,” Ravi admitted.

  Whatever was causing the hold-up in the corridor seemed to clear, and people started to pour out of the food court and into the main centre. Ravi suspected that security was helping to maintain crowd control.

  He looked back at the knifeman and could see Scarlett and Max slowly creeping up behind him. Leo had clearly spotted them, too, as he tensed and took a small step forward.

  Ravi grabbed his arm and yanked him back, not wanting Leo to give away their element of surprise.

  “Don’t look at them,” he whispered tersely.

  “We can talk about this and get this resolved. I just need you to put down the knife,” Heather said calmly, reciting the training they had both received years ago as if she did this every day.

  It was times like this when Ravi was pleased he was a deputy and that he had someone like Heather to either take over for or support him where necessary.

  A yell echoed throughout the space, and Ravi watched as Scarlett and Max engaged the knifeman. All three were on the floor, and it looked like a scuffle was ensuing.

  The knifeman lunged out from underneath them, reaching for the knife that had clattered to the floor. Max grabbed his leg and pulled him back. Scarlett dodged one boot to the face but didn’t miss the fist as she crawled to the knife.

  Heather leapt over some fallen tables at the same time that Max finally managed to pin the knifeman to the floor. Scarlett grabbed the knife and got to her feet; she picked up her radio from where it had fallen on the ground and announced to her team that the suspect was restrained.

  Ravi let out a breath. He turned to face Leo, who was looking ashen.

  “Welcome to working with the general public,” Ravi said.

  48

  Not Angry

  Scarlett sat on the sofa in Heather’s office and waited patiently while her girlfriend fussed over the cut below her left eye.

  She’d already looked at the graze in the bathroom mirror and decided it wasn’t necessary to have it looked at.

  Heather disagreed and had spent five minutes gently cleaning it.

  Ordinarily, Scarlett would have pointed out that it wasn’t necessary, but she found that she enjoyed the attention.

  “Don’t think this is going to be a frequent occurrence,” Heather grumbled.

  She’d been alternating between soft and loving words and complaints since they’d arrived in her office ten minutes ago.

  “You tending my wounds?” Scarlett asked.

  “You getting injured,” Heather replied. “This has to stop.”<
br />
  “Should I remind you that I work in security?”

  Heather stopped dabbing her cheek with a ball of damp cotton wool and stared at Scarlett. It seemed to be that she was attempting to convey something, presumably something serious.

  But Scarlett wasn’t getting the message. “What?”

  Heather let out a small sigh. She continued to clean the wound, the wound which must by now have been cleaned four times over.

  “I was very worried,” Heather said.

  “Is that why you’re angry?”

  “I’m not angry. It’s just my fear presenting itself as… well, anger.” Heather sat back and regarded her handiwork, decided she had done all she could, and placed the used cotton wool ball in the pot of antiseptic cleaning liquid she had been using.

  “So, you are angry?” Scarlett asked.

  “No. Not at you, anyway. It’s hard to explain. I had a shock; I thought you were going to get hurt. I’m swaying between wanting to break something and wanting to wrap you in a hug and not let you go.”

  Scarlett didn’t really understand Heather’s reaction but found it fascinating regardless.

  She’d been doing her job, as had Max. They’d taken down the threat, as per their training. Yes, she had received a minor injury, but it was nothing in comparison to what might have happened.

  “Scarlett, about what you saw this morning,” Heather started, picking through the contents of a large first aid box and examining various sizes of sticking plaster.

  “You and Aurelie in the car park?” Scarlett asked.

  “Yes, that. I wanted to say there was nothing going on there. She wanted to talk to me about why she’d come back.”

  “You’re the centre director. It would be hard for her to avoid speaking to you,” Scarlett said.

  Heather smiled. “Well, I did try. But I just wanted to make sure that you know that there’s nothing between Aurelie and me. Never will be.”

  “You’ve already told me that.”

  “Well, I’m telling you again to make sure you understand.”

  Scarlett didn’t know why she needed to be told twice but was satisfied that it was something Heather felt was important.

  Heather looked up at her and gently ran her finger under the cut. Scarlett reached up and took the probing finger and placed a small kiss on the tip.

  “I’m okay,” Scarlett reassured her.

  “I know. I will be soon, I promise.” Heather leaned forward and softly kissed Scarlett.

  It was what Scarlett had wanted from the start, but she hadn’t known how Heather would feel about kissing in her office.

  The door swung open and Heather jumped back. Scarlett turned to give an evil glare to whoever had interrupted them but stopped dead when she saw her father looking flustered.

  “I… sorry,” Leo said, averting his eyes as if they were both stark naked rather than sharing the smallest peck of a kiss. “Just wanted to let you know that Ravi and I have dealt with all the police paperwork. You both have to write a statement, but that can be done later.”

  Heather tidied up the first aid box, closed it, and stood. Scarlett missed her proximity immediately. Leo hesitantly turned back to look at her.

  “Are you okay?” Leo asked.

  Scarlett nodded. “Yes.”

  “You’re sure?” he pressed.

  “I am.”

  Leo sighed and shook his head. Scarlett regarded him, unsure why her being relatively uninjured seemed to annoy him.

  Heather loudly dropped the first aid box onto her desk. “Scarlett’s autism means that she generally answers direct questions with a direct answer,” she told Leo.

  Leo’s gaze quickly flicked between Scarlett and Heather.

  “Oh.” He coughed. “I mean, well, I didn’t actually know… that is, well—”

  “You didn’t know she had autism, I know,” Heather said. “Scarlett, do you want to tell your father about your suspicions?”

  Scarlett had never told her father of her autism, mainly because she was certain he already knew. Also because she very rarely saw him.

  “I believe I’m autistic. I display many of the behaviours. I thought it was obvious,” Scarlett explained.

  “Well, I had wondered,” Leo admitted. “But I didn’t know for sure.”

  “Well, now you do,” Heather said. “You two need to learn to talk more.”

  “We do,” Leo confirmed. He approached the sofa and tentatively sat beside Scarlett. “I sometimes find it hard to talk, especially to you.”

  “Maybe you also have autism?” Scarlett suggested.

  Leo and Heather chuckled slightly. Scarlett didn’t know why that had been considered funny but didn’t mind the lightening of the heavy mood in the room.

  “Why don’t we go to the pub?” Heather suddenly suggested. “Neutral territory, we can have a chat and a drink. I don’t know about you two, but I need one.”

  “It’s half past ten in the morning,” Scarlett pointed out.

  “Perfect time for a Guinness,” Leo said, standing up.

  He turned and held out his hand to Scarlett. She took it and allowed him to help her stand. She couldn’t remember the last time they had touched one another.

  She looked at Heather, feeling a little lost about what was happening. Heather offered her a calming, warm smile, and Scarlett immediately felt safe again.

  49

  Finally Talking

  Sitting in the quiet corner of the local pub, Heather didn’t know if she was about to make a bad day better or far, far worse.

  She couldn’t stand seeing two people so at odds with one another any longer. Leo clearly cared for Scarlett, and Scarlett obviously wanted some kind of relationship with her father. Heather felt for sure that there was a way to bridge the gap.

  Of course, there was a possibility that this would all blow up in her face, which was why she had asked for a double whiskey when Leo had asked her what she wanted to drink.

  Scarlett shifted uncomfortably next to her, and Heather placed a hand on her knee.

  “It will be okay,” she promised.

  “You don’t know that.”

  “No, I don’t. But I have faith.”

  Scarlett rolled her eyes. “Wishing something will work out is different to it actually working out.”

  “Doing nothing is a guarantee that it won’t work out,” Heather countered.

  Scarlett didn’t reply to that. Heather supposed she didn’t need to.

  Leo returned with a round tray containing a double whiskey, a large Guinness, and a mug of cocoa. She wondered what the bartender must have thought of such a strange order.

  Heather and Scarlett thanked him, and each took a small sip of their drink. Scarlett grimaced, and Heather knew that the cocoa wasn’t her preferred brand. Or the temperature was wrong. Apparently, there were a lot of ways to ruin a mug of cocoa.

  “Okay, let’s cut to it,” Heather said. “You two have problems communicating with each other. Let’s deal with that.”

  “I have problems with communicating with everyone,” Scarlett pointed out.

  “Let’s start there. Since when?”

  “Forever,” Scarlett replied.

  Heather turned to Leo. “Do you agree with that?”

  “Yes, I think so. Since she was little she struggled to make herself understood. Or we struggled to understand her. We didn’t think much of it.” Leo took a sip of stout. “Which I now regret.”

  Heather almost sagged in relief at that. Leo was trying. Reaching out in his own way, owning his responsibility. It was a good start.

  “When did things get really bad?” Heather asked.

  Leo and Scarlett shared a look. Neither said a word but volumes were being shared silently across the table. Heather realised in that moment that there had been a flashpoint, a time or an event where everything had changed.

  “I’ll answer that,” Leo said. He took another sip of stout and then pushed the glass to one side. “It was when S
carlett’s brother, Ronan, passed.”

  Scarlett suddenly became interested in drinking her subpar cocoa. Leo examined the woodgrain pattern in the table.

  Heather looked from one to the other.

  “What happened?” she pushed.

  Silence lingered for a couple of beats before Leo looked up. “My first wife, Scarlett’s mother, died when Scarlett was four and Ronan was eleven. Scarlett was too young to really understand, but Ronan was hit hard by it. I tried to help him, but I couldn’t get through to him. I honestly thought he would grow out of the depressive state he was in.”

  Leo rubbed his face. “I was a single dad, had a huge business to run. My family helped out where they could, but home life was falling apart. When Ronan was fourteen, he took his own life.”

  Heather took a sip of whiskey and sagged into her chair. She couldn’t imagine the loss of a wife and a child in three short years. Couldn’t imagine that kind of loss over the course of even a lifetime.

  She looked at Scarlett, realising that she may have only been four when her mother died but she was around seven when she lost her brother. Seven was definitely old enough to remember and understand what had happened.

  “I… struggled,” Leo admitted after a while. “I found it hard, harder to talk to Scarlett about it.”

  “We never spoke about it,” Scarlett said.

  “Not entirely true,” Leo argued. “You just… you didn’t care. Never once did you show emotion about losing Ronan.”

  Scarlett ducked her head down. Heather took her hand and held on tightly, willing some strength to flow between them.

  “I did care,” Scarlett whispered.

  “I never saw that,” Leo replied. “You never cried. You didn’t say you missed him. You… didn’t seem to feel anything.”

  Scarlett shrunk a little at his harsh words, despite the soft tone he’d used.

  Heather cleared her throat. “The thing I’m learning, and Scarlett, please correct me if I’m wrong, is that Scarlett seems to show emotions in a different way to you and I sometimes. But that doesn’t mean she doesn’t have emotions. Isn’t that right, Scarlett?”