Chapter 18
‘ W here’s Shorty?’ Adam asked, looking around as if the person he was looking for could be hiding under a desk.
‘He’s out on site with a subcontractor,’ replied Ricardo from across the room.
‘Who’s Shorty?’ I whispered to Adam.
‘That’s Jake’s nickname,’ he said, not even attempting to speak at a lower-than-normal volume. ‘Have you never heard it? Oh, apologies, I forgot you’ve been in self-imposed quarantine for God knows how long – you must have had the time of your life during the Covid lockdown.’
There was some quiet giggling in the background, but I pretended not to notice and returned to my computer screen.
A few minutes later, I heard footsteps approaching that stopped right behind me.
‘Would you like to sign this?’
I turned around; Selena had a birthday card in her hand.
‘Who’s it for?’ I asked.
‘Joel.’
I scribbled a short message on the inside, then handed it back to her. ‘When’s his birthday?’
‘Today.’
‘What have we got for him?’ asked Adam.
‘I was gonna go out in a bit and get him a bottle of something,’ she said in her deep grandma voice.
‘You shouldn’t use your own money,’ I said, thinking Diane must keep some petty cash around.
Selena gave me a weak smile. ‘It’s okay,’ she said. ‘David normally gives me some, but he’s not in this week. ’
I wondered if David was still seeing the same person he’d gone out with on Valentine’s Day and whether he was spending his holiday with her. Now that I wasn’t sharing an office with him, we only really crossed paths at meetings or sometimes in the kitchen, where he’d mentioned he was going to Morocco. I’d have never taken David for someone who liked extreme heat, but perhaps a holiday on the African continent hadn’t been his choice but his partner’s.
I felt bad as I looked at Selena; I must have earned close to double what she did. She’d be better keeping her money to spend on her beloved hairy four-legged babies. Then, recalling what Adam had said about the smell, I shivered. Her house was probably in need of a good top-to-bottom cleaning.
‘I’ll go and buy Joel something,’ I volunteered, feigning enthusiasm.
Adam stared at me. ‘You?’
‘Why not? I need to get a sandwich anyway,’ I told him then looked around the room. ‘Does anyone know what wine Joel likes to drink?’
‘Good one,’ Adam replied.
‘That’s very helpful, thanks.’
‘I’ll come with you,’ he offered, getting up from his chair. ‘I know more about alcohol than you do.’
Fortunately or unfortunately, it was true.
‘If you must,’ I said.
As I grabbed my bag, I saw him hibernate his laptop (perhaps for the first time in his life). I thought, What an achievement , until I saw his personalised screensaver. It was the movie poster of the animated film Fantastic Mr. Fox – Adam was such a child.
*
We drove up to the nearest supermarket, where I grabbed some lunch, and Adam picked out a bottle of wine, a cake, and a gift bag in less than two minutes. He seemed to be well practised in birthday shopping. I suspected he must have helped Selena out on other occasions too.
Then we went to use a self-service checkout. However, when I scanned the bottle, a warning message on the screen prevented me from paying.
When the red light flashed up at our machine, a young, skinny guy in uniform with acne on his face approached us at a leisurely pace. At first, he didn’t even acknowledge us and, without showing any interest, examined the message on the screen and the items in the bagging area.
‘Can I see ID please?’ he asked me in a deadpan manner. I could have sworn he was pretending to be chewing gum just to emphasise how bored he was.
‘Excuse me?’
The boy pointed at a board on the wall. It stated that if you looked under twenty-five, you might be asked for ID.
‘You’re joking, right?’ I asked and grudgingly showed him my driver’s licence. ‘So how old am I?’
Instead of replying, he just entered a code on the screen to allow me to complete the payment. However, my card was declined. The next second, my phone buzzed in my bag. I fished it out. It was a text message from my bank.
‘Unbelievable,’ I cried, shoving the phone back inside my bag.
‘What’s wrong?’ asked Adam.
‘This was flagged as a fraudulent transaction, and now my card is blocked. My bank wants me to call them to confirm it was me behind the purchase.’
‘They’re probably not used to you buying alcohol,’ he said, getting out his wallet. ‘There you go – just use mine.’
Before we left, I threw an angry glance at the young sales assistant, but he didn’t notice me because he was busy patronising another customer.
As we got back to the car, Adam put a hand on my arm and said, ‘Cheer up – I’m sure you can clear it up with your bank in no time. ’
‘Oh, I’m sure I will.’
‘Then what’s bothering you?’
‘That anyone over eighteen can drink in the UK, and I’m clearly over eighteen,’ I huffed. I could tolerate anything but people who were lazy and couldn’t think for themselves. All that sales assistant had to do was look at my smart clothing and the wrinkles on my face (unfortunately, I did have a few crow’s feet – I blamed it on bad genes from my father), and my age wouldn’t have been questioned.
‘Have you never been asked for ID before?’ he asked.
‘Not recently.’
He grinned. ‘I told you: it’s the hair. You look a lot younger with your hair down,’ he said then shrugged. ‘I still get ID’d sometimes too. It’s a compliment really.’
I now started to regret taking his advice. I’d been mixing up my hairstyle and occasionally wearing it down, but without the ‘knitting needles’, it felt like I was losing everyone’s respect.
‘Little men abusing power – that’s what it’s all about,’ I said, starting up the engine. ‘That guy’s probably still in school and not even old enough to drink but is allowed to challenge people older than him.’
‘You seriously need to chill. He probably just fancied you.’
‘Really? And you’re not jealous?’
‘Why would I be?’ he asked. ‘Anyone would be proud to have a hot girlfriend. But if I don’t stand a chance with you, I doubt a schoolboy would.’
I thought back to how Adam had reacted to my interaction with Morris; now I understood why he hadn’t got upset but instead found it hilarious. He must have thought large middle-aged men weren’t my type – he was dead on.
When we got back to the office, there was a loud banging of doors shattering the silence of the building, and a few minutes later, Dean passed us in the lobby without saying hi or even looking at us.
‘I’m going to kill him,’ he murmured under his childish moustache, clenching his fists .
When we got upstairs, I gave the plastic bag with our purchase to Selena, who rewarded me with a genuine smile – the first ever smile I’d triggered on her face. I couldn’t help but return it.
‘We just saw Dean – he didn’t look happy,’ I said, taking my seat. ‘What’s going on?’
Ricardo was the fastest to reply. ‘Chrissy just called Dean to let him know that someone had changed his last name from Pluck to Prick on all the site noticeboards. He’s now going to drive around to fix that.’
‘You think it was Ardas?’ I asked Adam.
‘Most likely.’
I sighed. ‘And these are grown men?’
‘It’s just a bit of office fun. You’ve never done a prank before?’
‘No.’
‘You are boring,’ he said and turned back to his computer.
*
I knocked, and a tall ginger woman answered the door with a little ginger girl on her arm.
‘Sorry, I’ve got the wrong address,’ I said, thinking that maybe I’d got out of the lift on the wrong floor, but then I double-checked the flat number on the door. I was sure Adam lived at number fourteen – he’d just buzzed me into the building a minute ago.
‘Are you looking for Adam?’ she asked. ‘Evelyn, right?’
Her face looked familiar, but I couldn’t quite place it.
‘Yes, how did you know?’
She smiled. ‘You’re all he talks about – I’m Sharon, his sister.’
Now I remembered the little WhatsApp photo on Adam’s screen. Not a girlfriend then. Something about her demeanour – perhaps those shifty eyes or her overly friendly tone – reminded me of Isabel. Regardless, I smiled back and wondered how much Adam had confided in her about me. ‘Nice to meet you, Sharon. ’
‘Come on in. He’s in the kitchen,’ she said, opening the door wider.
What I saw and heard in the flat was in stark contrast to my first visit. It looked like an alien invasion had taken place. Every inch of the floor was covered with picture books, Barbie dolls, and other plastic toys; and the volume on the TV was turned up to the maximum. It was Peppa Pig on the screen.
‘Sophie, stop messing with the remote control,’ cried Sharon, leaping towards the sofa.
I quickly escaped into the kitchen.
Adam was standing at the cooker, busy making something in two saucepans. He must have sensed my presence and turned around. When he saw me, his eyes lit up.
‘Hey,’ he said.
‘Hi. Here’s your card.’ I waved it in my hand.
I’d accidentally put it in my wallet at the supermarket and only noticed it later, once Adam had gone. As it was already Friday, I didn’t want to leave him without his bank card for the weekend, so I’d texted him to say I’d drop it off after work. He’d made no mention of having visitors when messaging me back, but it explained why he’d left work early.
‘Thanks. Maybe we should open a joint account,’ he said, sliding it into his back pocket. ‘Don’t look at me like that; it was just a joke. Have you had dinner yet? Of course you haven’t – you’re still wearing office clothes.’
I shook my head. ‘I don’t want to intrude; you have company…’
‘I could do with some help. Sharon and her husband are going out in a minute, and I’m babysitting.’
‘I’m not great with kids,’ I said, thinking how lucky I was that my sister could afford a live-in nanny and never required my childcare services. ‘It smells good. What are you cooking?’
He gave me a cocky smile. ‘Well, be prepared to be amazed by my culinary skills.’
‘Another skill of the multi-talented man? What else have you got up your slee—? ’
‘It’s just spaghetti Bolognese. Uncle Adam used jar sauce. My mum makes her own,’ said a young voice.
I turned to see a dark-haired little girl, only half his height.
I started to suspect his cooking skills were limited to fake Italian meals.
‘This is my niece, Sophie,’ he told me then looked down at the little girl. ‘Thanks for selling me out.’
‘Hi, Sophie. I’m Evelyn.’
Sophie nodded then pulled on his top. ‘When is dinner going to be ready? I’m hungry.’
‘Just another five minutes,’ Adam told her, stirring the sauce with a wooden spoon.
Sophie nodded again then turned back to me. ‘Whose mummy are you?’
‘No one’s.’
‘But you’re old.’
‘I’m not that old,’ I said, glancing at Adam, who was trying hard not to laugh. ‘I’d seriously better go now.’
Like his uncle, Sophie must have thought I was boring because she left the kitchen.
‘Why don’t you stay for dinner?’ he asked. ‘I could use a hand with the girls, and you owe me one for taking my bank card again.’
‘I told you I’m not good with kids.’
‘You’ve survived a conversation with a five-year-old – I think you’re doing okay.’
I sighed. ‘Yes, it was the worst scrutiny of my life. Can I pay you back some other way?’
‘Oh, I can think of lots of ways,’ he said with that familiar strange grin.
Babysitting suddenly seemed an attractive option.
‘Fine, I’ll stay, but I’m not changing nappies.’
‘They’re not in nappies anymore. Well, Bianca is three, so she needs one at night, but she mostly stays dry.’
‘That’s a lot of information I don’t need to know… But what’s the plan then?’
‘Dinner, bath, bed. ’
I nodded. ‘Sounds simple enough.’
‘You really don’t have much experience with kids, do you?’ he asked. ‘Put this on.’ He handed me an apron.
‘I thought the food was almost ready…’
‘It’s not for cooking. You’ll soon be entering a warzone.’
I gave him a sceptical look. ‘It can’t be that bad—’
‘Have you seen kids eating spaghetti Bolognese before?’
‘If it’s that messy, why did you make it?’
‘Because that’s the only thing they wanted,’ he said. ‘It’s either give them what they want, and they’ll eat it, or fight with them for an hour to try to make them eat something they don’t want – kids are picky.’
‘You don’t say,’ I murmured, reluctantly tying the apron around me.
Before Sharon and her husband left, Adam quickly introduced me to him. His name was Keith. He seemed nice enough, but I didn’t like the knowing look that passed between the two men when I shook his hand.
‘We’re off then,’ Sharon said to her brother. ‘Are you sure you’re going to be alright with the two monsters?’
‘Yeah, enjoy your freedom.’
‘And please don’t forget to give Dad a ring later. He just started—’
‘Will do; now go,’ said Adam, preceding his words with a quick head shake.
I found it rude how he’d cut her off, but Sharon and her husband didn’t need more prompting. They were already out the door.
*
Dinner consisted of overturned plastic cups, orange juice splashed on the walls, little forks dropped on the floor, last-minute toilet breaks, lots of wiggling in seats and crying for more cheese and pinching each other’s food, causing more upset and tears.
The girls’ faces and hands were covered in red sticky sauce with bits of meat stuck to them. Surprisingly, the older one looked worse than the younger one, and they kept reaching across the table to grab for my watch and inspect my gold necklace and stud earrings.
Despite their constant attempts to throw dinner time into chaos, the girls had still managed to finish their large portions before me.
Adam was proved right: by the end of dinner, I had more food on the apron than in my stomach. Even with the protective equipment on, some tomato sauce had still ended up on my white blouse and smart grey trousers.
I told Adam not to wait for me, and he took the kids to the bathroom.
Once I finished my meal and was about to put the plates in the dishwasher, he popped his head into the kitchen.
‘What are you doing?’ he asked. His top wasn’t only covered in sauce but looked soaking wet now.
‘Tidying?’ I said innocently.
‘Leave that. Let’s just get the kids sorted first.’
I followed him back to the bathroom, where the giggling girls were playing with plastic squishy toys in the water.
‘Which one do you want?’ he asked. ‘I thought you could dry one, and I could take the other.’
I nodded in agreement. ‘Divide and conquer. Good strategy – you choose.’
‘Okay, I’ll take Bianca then. You can have Sophie. She’s easier. She can pretty much dry herself.’
Getting the kids out of the water proved more challenging than I’d expected, as neither of them wanted to leave the bath. Sophie did start to climb out after five minutes of pleading, but Adam had to pull out the plug and wait for most of the water to drain before he could get Bianca to comply. She’d tried to bite him every time he’d reached for her.
He was right again: Sophie expertly moved the towel around her tiny body. Apart from pointing out the bits she’d missed, she didn’t need my help at all .
When it came to putting on pyjamas, both girls made a run for it, jumping on the sofa bed in the living room then hiding behind furniture and curtains.
They were more compliant with brushing their teeth as they enjoyed the independence of doing it on their own. Reading time was the easiest though, as they both seemed to have run out of steam by the time we managed to tuck them in bed with their respective teddies: Bianca with a giant Peppa Pig and Sophie with a smaller giraffe.
Adam looked at me and said, ‘I think one of us will do now. You stay, and I’ll clean up in the kitchen.’
‘I’m happy to do the cleaning,’ I offered quickly.
‘I bet you are, but let the girls decide. Girls, who do you want to read tonight?’
‘Evelyn,’ they chorused.
‘You see?’ noted Adam.
I sighed. ‘Fine – what am I reading?’
‘ Frozen ,’ said Sophie, and Bianca excitedly repeated the title after her in her tiny voice.
‘Isn’t that an animated film?’ I turned to Adam, who, in response, passed me a narrow hardbound copy of the book version. ‘ Frozen it is then,’ I said.
Adam left for the kitchen, and I started to read the story aloud.
‘Oh, the princess is called Elsa, just like my boss,’ I told the girls, but by the time I finished the sentence and looked up, they were both fast asleep. ‘That didn’t take long,’ I murmured, putting the book down.
After adjusting the cover over them, I went to see how Adam was doing in the kitchen. The surfaces were tidy, but I could see some missed spots on the floor and the wall where the tomato sauce had been smeared. I decided to keep my observations to myself before he teased me about my cleaning habits again.
Beaming at me, he announced proudly, ‘All done. What did I tell you? Kids aren’t easy. ’
‘Fine, you were right, but no need to rub it in. I don’t understand how anyone in their right mind would willingly want to go through such torture every night?’
‘Come on – it wasn’t that bad. I love kids. You don’t?’
‘I don’t mind them. It’s usually them who don’t like me,’ I said, recalling that the last time I’d visited my sister, my niece had kept kicking me with her little chubby legs and screaming for her mummy. ‘Babies always cry in my arms,’ I added.
‘Babies cry in everyone’s arms.’
‘No, seriously, they hate me.’
‘Well, Sophie and Bianca seemed to like you. Why do you think they wanted you to read tonight and not me?’
‘Perhaps they’ve just had enough of you,’ I told him. ‘You have a tendency to get on people’s nerves after a while.’
He flinched. ‘Ouch.’
‘Sorry, I’m just tired and edgy. I’ve had some difficult meetings today with the client.’
‘It’s always about work with you, isn’t it?’ He sighed, giving me a concerned look. ‘You need to stop worrying about it so much.’
I forced a smile. ‘I’ll try… I’d better go now.’
We said goodbye, but I still felt bothered about leaving the unclean surfaces behind.