Chapter 8 Matilda
By the time Taylor and I finally made it back to my flat, showered, and had something to eat, my limbs felt like lead, and I could barely keep my eyes open.
We had pasta and meatballs because it was what she requested. If Lauren wanted to treat me like a lackey, then I was going to feed Taylor whatever she asked for and not make her feel guilty for it.
I hadn’t bothered pushing Lauren on if anyone else could pick Taylor up earlier.
I already knew the answer, so there was no point in fighting it.
Our father and her ex-husband would be too busy with work, and our mother, who didn’t really like children, avoided them whenever possible.
Lauren knew how much I loved Taylor, so she used me as a babysitter whenever she needed one.
I adored spending time with my niece, but I’d be lying if I said it didn’t add more pressure during an already stressful time of year. Oh, well.
Despite her jam-packed schedule, Lily had joined us, and Taylor’s face had lit up the moment she walked in. She idolized Lily, copying how she dressed and begging for her hair to be cut shorter like Lily’s. It was adorable.
“Do you have any homework?” I asked Taylor, collecting our plates and placing them in the sink.
“Not today. Miss Lawrence said we didn’t have any until next week.” A pleased smile spread across her face.
“I thought you liked homework?” Lily asked Taylor, who was unusually bright for her age and actually enjoyed school. I picked Taylor up from school at least once a week, and we’d spend hours huddled together with coloring pencils and glue sticks, working on school projects.
“Uh, obviously,” she said in a sassy eleven-year-old tone. “But I have to pretend I hate it.” She rolled her eyes at us.
“You can’t fool us, Tee,” I hummed back. I moved behind the sofa, pulling Taylor’s hair over the back and splitting it into two sections. “Fishtail or French braids?”
Taylor beamed up at me, a knowing smile crossing her face. French plaits it was, then.
“I still can’t believe you’re skating with Luca Vasvault this season! You’re the coolest auntie ever, I swear. Everyone at school is so jealous,” Taylor squealed, but kept her head still as I wove the strands together.
“It’s cool, right?” I replied, ignoring Lily’s pointed look.
Taylor continued to gush about Luca, while I nodded and laughed at the right moments.
I certainly didn’t let on how standoffish he was and how I worried I’d dread going to work, more so than in any other season.
At least my other celebrity partners had been friendly.
“Right, it’s time for us to head home soon, Tee,” I told her, securing the second plait with a hairband. Lauren was supposed to collect her from my place but had said she had to finish a few bits of work when she got home, so I was taking her back.
Taylor groaned and collapsed onto Lily’s lap in protest. “Can I at least come skating again with you soon? We haven’t been in ages.” Her eyes sparkled as she sat back up and bounced in her seat.
I loved it when Taylor came to the rink, but it would be hard during the season.
My schedule was intense as it was, and my sister wouldn’t exactly be willing to help out, meaning it could result in almost two hours of driving to pick Taylor up and drop her off.
But as I glanced at her eager face, any thought of refusal vanished.
“Sure, sure, of course,” I said, smiling.
A familiar weight settled over me, pressing on my shoulders, as another task found its way onto my already full plate.
—
When we had made it to my sister’s house to drop Taylor off, Lily and I gave her a hug and a kiss on the cheek before she ran up to the door.
Lily spun in her seat and turned the radio down. She wanted the gossip, obviously. We hadn’t been able to talk much yesterday.
I dropped my face into my hands and moaned.
“What have the producers done this time? Who do I need to hurt?” Lily had always had my back, but she’d become a whole lot fiercer since the Mark-and-Lauren debacle.
“No one, Lils. It’s fine, I just—”
“It doesn’t sound fine, and you look stressed. I’ve been looking for an excuse to come down there and speak to that dickhead Mark—”
“It’s just overwhelming, you know? The show is stressful enough without having Luca Vasvault as my skating partner.”
“But you’re used to working with celebrities.”
“I am, but not celebrities like him.” Not ones that only offered one-word answers or barely looked at me—and certainly not ones that made me feel like I was the problem.
I put the car in reverse and moved off the driveway to head toward Lily’s house.
The rhythmic hum of the engine and driving down familiar roads were a nice distraction from my spiraling thoughts.
Lily made a noise of agreement but continued, “Just treat him like any other celebrity.”
“That’s pretty impossible when he’s so cold and unapproachable.”
“Then tell him to stop being a grumpy arsehole.”
I released a frustrated groan and cast her a sidelong look. She knew I would never do that.
“Sorry, I’m trying here.” Her laughter filled the car, the sound easing some of the tension from my shoulders. “I bet your mum’s pleased.”
Lily knew the pressure my mum put on me, even if I had never told her the full extent of it. My mum had never been one of those parents involved with their kids’ friends, so Lily hadn’t seen it firsthand, but she knew. And without a present family of her own, Lily never pushed the point too much.
“I’m going to say something, and you can’t be mad.” Her tone held a teasing lilt.
“Do I want to know?” She turned in her seat in my peripheral vision, excitement radiating from her.
“You’re finally dancing with an absolute god! I am so sick of them partnering you with has-been losers. Have you seen Luca? He is absolutely gorgeous and rumored to be a complete ride in the bedroom—”
“Funnily enough, I have seen him, as we’re partnered together.
” I scrunched my face at the next part. “And his bedroom skills aren’t any of my concern, Lil.
This is a professional relationship, remember?
” We stopped at a set of traffic lights, and I glanced over as she adjusted her hair in the visor mirror.
Her dark brown hair was pulled into a disheveled bun, a stark contrast to the neat ballet bun she had likely styled that morning.
“Matilda, I am telling you this as your best friend and because I love you,” she mumbled through the bobby pin she held in her mouth. “Don’t waste this opportunity because you’re too much of a prude.”
“Lily!” I huffed out a laugh as she pinned her hair. “Not only am I pretty sure he hates me, he’s also my colleague, so a big no-no, and he has a line of beautiful women waiting to jump into his bed without me joining the queue.”
“Fuck them! You’re hot and need to stop being so morally pure all the time. Live a little. When was the last time you got a little fairy action?”
“Fairy action? Really?” The lights turned green, giving me an excellent excuse to look away.
“Yeah, sorry. That was gross.”
Admittedly, Luca was gorgeous—like, not just a “double-take in the streets” type of handsome, but the kind of breathtaking that you couldn’t look away from.
I bet he knew exactly what to do in the bedroom, too—if he was even half as confident and self-assured during sex as he was in everything else, I had no doubt he never left the job unfinished.
But we couldn’t and wouldn’t—it was laughable to even think about it.
“I don’t need any drama at the moment. The season is hard enough as it is without throwing sleeping with my co-star into the mix.” The street brightened as the village lights flickered on.
“Babe, that is exactly what you need! You need to let loose and have some fun. And by fun, I mean riding a massive di—”
“Do not finish that sentence,” I interrupted as I turned onto her road.
It was a lovely cul-de-sac with tiny country cottages, and Lily had lived there since I’d known her.
Her mother had taken off when she was a kid, so Lily had moved in with her “auntie” and childhood dance teacher, who had practically raised her.
When her auntie passed, she’d left the cottage to Lily.
“You love it.”
I mumbled in disgruntled but affectionate agreement.
“At least promise me you’ll be open-minded enough to actually enjoy yourself this season, hmm? You have the coolest job but are always so stressed that you never enjoy it.”
“It’s my job, Lily. It’s not supposed to be shits and giggles.”
“You are allowed to enjoy yourself at work, Matilda. Not everything is a tick-box exercise.” I didn’t mention how she was the pot calling the kettle black. Lily’s life revolved around opening her own dance studio—but I knew she had her reasons.
“I’ll try,” I promised.
“Good. Do you fancy going to Valley Bar tomorrow? I could do with a drink; it’s been a long week,” she asked in a hopeful tone.
“It’s Tuesday.”
“Exactly.”
My to-do list for tomorrow was already packed.
On Wednesdays I helped my elderly neighbor with her shopping, so I needed to head there right after the gym and practice.
Last week, I’d noticed a thick layer of dust on most of the surfaces in her house, so I’d promised to help her clean this week as well.
Taylor might end up calling, too, as she often felt lonely when left with a sitter on Wednesdays.
But if Lily was having a tough week, I wanted to be there for her, just as she would be for me.
“Yeah, sure. Seven o’clock?” I could call Taylor on the way to the bar.
“Are you sure? It doesn’t matter if you’re busy,” she offered, collecting her bag from the footwell.
“No, no, all good! Sorry, I was just thinking about whether I’d eat before or when we got there,” I lied.
“Perfect! I will eat there, but it’s up to you what you want to do.” She leaned over the console and kissed my cheek. “Call me if you start panicking or spiraling, OK?”
I nodded and ignored the lump in my throat.
“See you later, babe.”