Chapter 17 Adonis
ADONIS
Catherine stirred to a persistent tapping.
She propped herself up on her elbows and turned her head, trying to place the noise.
Tap, tap, tap. It wasn’t coming from above or outside. It was almost as if it were at her front door, but surely not?
The building’s main entrance was wired up with two intercoms; one to each flat, so the person knocking must be her new neighbour. Unless of course they’d returned and left the main door open again, allowing someone else access to the building.
Another knock sounded, this one more urgent and slightly louder than the last. Catherine glanced at her phone. 7:26 a.m. on a Sunday. The one day of the week she allowed herself a sleep-in. She tutted as she pulled on her robe and padded along the hallway.
Tap, tap, tap.
“Alright, I’m coming,” she said, an edge of irritation in her voice.
Without pausing to think about what she might look like, she unlocked the door — and did a double-take at the woman standing there.
Red hair. Red coat.
How? Why? Am I dreaming? Catherine’s brain jammed with too many questions at once.
“Hi. I’m so sorry to wake you at this time.
” The words came out thick and fast in the woman’s Scottish accent.
“I just got back and… God,” she clamped her hands around her cheeks, a look of wild panic flashing in her eyes.
“I’ve looked everywhere, and I can’t find Juni.
I don’t suppose he got out when you left. ”
Catherine stood there, probably looking as dumb as she felt.
“God — that was so rude of me. I’m Jules.” She pointed up and smiled. “Your new neighbour.”
And it all fell into place — ‘J’ for Jules, and the smile in the photo being so familiar because it belonged to this woman’s face, and this woman’s face belonged to—
“You’re Bridie’s daughter?”
Jules flashed a small, bashful smile. “The one and only.”
“Wow! We’ve already met, but I had no idea it was you…” Catherine scrunched her eyes shut and shook her head. “I mean, that you were you.”
“Yep, I’m me. I’d been planning to pop down and introduce myself properly, but things haven’t really gone to plan with the move so far.
It’s all been a bit chaotic handing things over at work, so…
” Jules’s smile gave way to a grimace. “Look, I’m sorry again to disturb you, but Juni, do you know if he…
?” She subtly moved to peer around Catherine.
Instinctively, Catherine stepped aside, as if to prove there wasn’t a cat hiding behind her.
“Er, no… I mean, he was still in the empty furniture box when I left. I moved it into your hallway before I headed back down here.”
“Right, it’s just that he’s pretty sneaky. He’s got out once or twice before. He can be very quick when you’re not looking…”
“I’m think I would’ve noticed if he’d—” Before she’d even finished her sentence, Jules had moved inside. She stepped out of her court shoes, and Catherine gawked at the woman’s back in disbelief, watching helplessly as she padded through to the lounge, clicking her tongue.
“Juni? I’m here, puss puss.”
Catherine shut the door and followed on, peering around the doorjamb to see Jules on all fours, looking under her sofa.
“Hey, naughty boy, there you are!”
“Wait, what… he’s actually under there?”
Jules lay on her stomach and stretched her arms under the sofa. “Gotcha!” She kicked her legs and tried to wriggle backwards. “Juni, stop it. Let go of that… fuck!”
Catherine craned her neck, surveying the scene from above. The slightly-dishevelled-but-exceptionally-hot woman on her lounge room floor rolled onto her back and met Catherine’s wide-eyed gaze.
“I’m sorry, but he stuck his claws into something soft under your sofa, and… it’s come unravelled.”
Catherine stepped forward to look. A few of the jigsaw pieces had scattered out from the mat. “Oh, it’s my puzzle mat. Don’t worry.”
Jules’s lip quirked as if she were biting back a laugh at discovering Catherine’s nerdy hobby, but she didn’t pass comment. Catherine swallowed her mild mortification.
“I probably should’ve tried this first.” Jules sat up, popping her eyes as she pulled a yellow pouch from her pocket.
“Dreamies,” she said, answering the question Catherine hadn’t asked. “They’re like crack for cats.”
Jules shook the packet; the contents rattled inside, and Juni darted out from under the sofa. She tipped a couple of the little pillow-shaped biscuits onto the floor, and Juni sat crunching them as she stroked his back.
Catherine shook her head. “I can’t believe he’s been under there all night and I had no idea!”
Jules chuckled and scooped up her cat. He purred as she cradled him in her arms like a baby.
“No harm done. I’m sorry again for the intrusion…
and for the mess he made of your puzzle.
I promise it won’t happen again.” Her eyes sparkled in a way that made Catherine wish she’d retract that promise, because even though she didn’t recognise herself for thinking this, she’d enjoyed the audacious intrusion.
In a heartbeat, she’d welcome more wake-up calls like this if they were on offer.
“Right, well… we better leave you in peace.” Jules moved to the door, and Catherine trailed behind, words failing to come once again as her brain was still buffering. She watched in silence as Jules pushed her feet back into her shoes and unlatched the door.
She turned and shot Catherine that smile.
“Oh, I will thank you properly, by the way. I mean, for everything you’ve done for me — what with Juni…” she smiled down at the floppy grey mass of cat now lolling in the crook of her arm, “…and the flatpack construction. I’m a bit hopeless when it comes to all that.”
Catherine swallowed. “Anytime. Happy to help, I mean… it was my pleasure.”
“Good to know.” Jules’s eyes sparkled again, then she turned and headed up the stairs.
Catherine pinched her arm to make sure she hadn’t just dreamt that.
Her new neighbour was the gorgeous mystery woman she kept bumping into around town. Her new neighbour was her lovely old neighbour’s daughter. Now, here she was — living right above her. And she knew Catherine’s name and had given her that smile.
Jules McPherson had just smiled at her, and it had made her knees go weak, so much so they still felt a little boneless.
Wait, she knows my name!
As far as Catherine was aware, Bridie and her daughter weren’t close.
The old woman seemed to bristle whenever Catherine asked her any personal questions, so she probed no more.
Catherine was off the clock whenever they spent time together, so she eased into the woman’s company like it was a comfy old armchair.
She enjoyed Bridie’s sense of humour, and they shared a taste for a nice wee dram, which they took turns to supply.
Now it was a surprise to learn that Bridie must have mentioned her, and Jules had remembered her name. Which maybe halfway explained why she had trusted Catherine with a key and her cat. And her underwear. They’re not as tasty as they look.
Heat prickled Catherine’s neck at the sudden, very tasty vision of Jules wearing the lacy underwear she’d seen strung out on the airer.
Oh, behave yourself! She pulled her thoughts out of the gutter and made a quick decision to walk off some of the weird energy thrumming through her. Two quick laps around the park, you perv. And no Snoots for you today because you can’t behave yourself.
Catherine laughed out loud when she saw her reflection in the bathroom mirror; her hair was a wild mess. She’d answered the door looking like that. Christ.
She dressed quickly and made herself a coffee in her reusable mug before heading out.
She noted with relief that Jules hadn’t left the main door open this time, but she would make a point of mentioning it, particularly as Juni was a little escape artist. He wouldn’t fare well on the main road outside their building.
Another sunny spring day met her outside — cloudless blue skies above and the sweet smell of blossom in the air.
Catherine set a quick pace, trying to focus on the steps and stop her mind from wandering because every time it did, it ended at the same destination.
That smile. How had she not equated the photo on the fridge with the woman in red?
On the one or two occasions she let her thoughts wander beyond that smile, she’d ended up ogling her imaginary projection of Jules modelling lacy underwear.
An image that seemed to summon a silly grin, which she couldn’t squash no matter how hard she tried.
She forced herself to do a third lap of the park.
She even considered a fourth as her thoughts were still spiralling, but her stomach growled so she headed home.
She tried her best not to imagine bumping into the other woman in their shared space and the future conversations they might have, but the task was impossible so she gave into it.
By the time she’d reached the door and turned her key in the lock, she was so lost in conjured conversations that she didn’t notice the man coming down the stairs until she face-planted into his chest, which felt like a solid wall of muscle.
Catherine stepped back, eyes trailing up the man’s skinny jeans and tight black T-shirt until she reached his grinning bronzed face. He wore a black Yankees cap, had perfectly trimmed facial hair, and teeth so white the glare hurt her eyes.
Shit. She’d been so swept up in everything else, she’d forgotten about him.
She blinked, hoping to will him out of existence.
But no, there he stood — a very real and solid Adonis of a man, who was no doubt very capable of putting together the flatpack furniture she’d spent two nights labouring over like an absolute mug.
All the elation she’d felt at this morning’s surreal turn of events slipped away, and she suddenly felt very foolish.
“Hiya,” he said in a chirpy Northern accent, which irrationally made her dislike him even more. “Sorry about that, you seemed miles away. I hope I didn’t startle you.”
Yep, miles away thinking about your wife in her underwear, for goodness’ sake.
“Well, you should look where you’re going and not jump out at people like that.”
“Alright,” he laughed, a kind laugh that almost made her regret being awful to him. “I’m Will, by the way.” He held out a paw-like hand.
“Yes, I know,” she said and instantly wished she hadn’t because she shouldn’t know that, not yet. “Sorry. I had an unexpected early start, and I’m hungry now, so…” She gestured to her door, hoping he’d take the hint and move aside, but he didn’t.
“Oh, I’m a right diva when I’m hungry, you know, like the Snickers ad? I get proper hangry. Anyway, I’m nipping down the shop, do you need anything?”
“No, thank you.” She forced a small smile and pushed past him and his stupid white teeth and too-tight clothes. “And make sure you close the door after yourself. You people keep leaving it open,” she called after his Dorito-shaped back.
She let herself into her flat and crumpled against the door, feeling completely winded.
After one liberating conversation with Francesca and one revealing conversation with Penny, she’d let herself get swept away in a delusional fantasy. Not for the first time, mocked the voice inside her head.
Maybe Penny was right; maybe she did need therapy.
And clearly, she was by no means ready to start dating again when she’d so tragically misread Jules.
Now she needed to bury any thoughts she’d had about that lucky bastard’s gorgeous wife and scrub the image of Jules’s flawless smile and ridiculous sparkling eyes from her head.