Chapter 12
“Go Arthur, go!” Ellie yelled at the top of her lungs.
“It’s like you jinxed him,” observed Zara, from her side, as a faster kid swooped in and took possession of the soccer ball.
Arthur paused, grinning and waving at his mum and aunty on the sidelines.
Ellie gave him a proud thumbs up, while Zara tried to shoo him away to get his attention back on the field.
Arthur jogged up and down on the spot like he was testing out his own legs.
Ellie saw the lightbulb moment in his brain as he remembered he was literally in the middle of a soccer game, lifting his head and running back toward the action.
“He’s just like his aunty.” Zara shook her head ruefully.
“Fleet of foot and filled with grace.”
“A beautiful face and a head full of fucking fairies,” her sister corrected. “God help us all.”
“He’s perfect in every single way,” Ellie said, as they watched another child fall over and Arthur stop to check in on him.
The kid was on the opposing team, but that made no difference to Arthur as he helped him to his feet and patted his back, before running to the wrong side of the field and needing to be redirected.
“He’s going to be our best prime minister ever. ”
“Just what we need, another white man in charge. Zero votes.”
At half time, Arthur came running over, his face pink and his hair sweaty.
“Did you see that?” He beamed. “We got a goal!”
“That was amazing!” Ellie fist-pumped him enthusiastically.
Zara handed him his drink bottle and gave him a quick pep talk about keeping his eye on the ball.
Neither of them mentioned that the other team had scored seven goals.
Ellie noticed a skinny, dark-haired kid shifting awkwardly from foot to foot nearby, ignoring his parents as he surveyed the field in his soccer jersey.
There was something familiar about all three of them.
“Molly?” Zara asked, and the boy went still.
Ellie remembered the family now. Molly had been one of Arthur’s friends in kindergarten and Ellie recalled playdates with a small child spinning in an Elsa costume.
Another sweet and precocious only child, just like Arthur.
Looking again, Ellie remembered the slight crush she’d had on Charlotte, Molly’s tall, pretty mother.
“No, mum,” Arthur said cheerfully. “It’s Felix now.”
Felix looked over, his eyes going from uncertain to bright, like the little kid in Ellie’s memory.
“Hey,” he said to Arthur. “We got here late, but coach said I can play in the second half.”
“Awesome!” said Arthur. The whistle blew and Arthur gave Felix a playful punch to the ribs.
“Come on, let’s go!” Felix grinned and then two of them ran off back to the field together.
As they watched, one of the other boys on the team took one look at Felix and crossed his arms. At this distance, they couldn’t hear what he said when he opened his mouth, but what was instantly clear was the way Arthur stepped forward, his chin going back in the universal gesture of you got a problem?
The other boy shrugged and dropped his arms, and just like that, the game moved on.
“You’ve got a great kid,” said Charlotte, coming over to stand next to them.
Her eyes were watering slightly and her husband — whose name, predictably, Ellie had forgotten to the sands of time — came and put his hands gently on her shoulders.
“We were late cos Felix was having a panic attack about playing today, but he’s been wanting to be on the boys’ soccer team since they first started separating them into girls and boys. ”
“He’s doing great,” said Ellie reassuringly. “Look at him go!” Felix had possession of the ball already, sprinting down the field. He lost the ball at the last second but his run was already streaks ahead of where his teammates had gotten and the kids all whooped and cheered.
“Yeah, Felix!” shouted his dad, and when Ellie turned to look, Charlotte had tears streaking down her cheeks. Zara crossed over and hugged her tight; she’d never liked seeing anyone upset.
“Thanks.” Charlotte choked out a small laugh above Zara’s shoulder, between her tears. “It’s been a rough start to high school, but having Arthur onside has really helped keep the bullies at bay.”
“I didn’t know,” said Zara with a little shrug. “He didn’t say anything to me, just started talking about his mate Felix and I figured it was a new friend, not an old one.”
“Kids are better than grownups,” said Charlotte’s husband. He looked older than Ellie had remembered, older than he should, and her heart squeezed in her chest.
“At least the good ones are,” Charlotte said, looking toward the field.
Zara’s face didn’t show much but Ellie knew full well her sister was proud of the boy she was raising.
The two of them frequently went back and forth over a glass of wine over the essential question: how did you raise a boy into a good human being, when the definition of a “good man” set the bar so goddamn low?
It seemed like, so far, Arthur was finding his way to hitting the right notes.
Ellie was still contemplating this, as she waved goodbye to her sister and nephew as they wandered off to take Felix and his parents to lunch.
Ellie planned to hit the gym; now she’d had Estella’s arm held to her throat, she knew just how fit she’d need to be to accurately impersonate that terrifying physique.
Gender really could be weird as hell, she reflected.
The last time she’d played Estella she remembered studying pictures of the woman she’d been back then.
Estella had seemed almost a caricature of hyper-femininity, a blonde Jessica Rabbit, next to her thuggish bloke of a husband.
And now, barely more than three years later, Ellie was quite sure she wouldn’t want to arm-wrestle the woman.
Was it something to do with no longer being that particular kind of man’s wife? Ellie had no idea.
But it wasn’t like you couldn’t be feminine as hell and strong, she mused as she wandered up the side of the soccer field, catching her breath as she climbed the grassy embankment to where she’d parked her car under the trees on the outer edge of the park.
Estella Grant could be a threat and a danger, no matter how fucking pretty she was. In fact—
“Oh fuck.” The words slipped out her mouth like a prayer for help, because leaning back against the passenger door of Ellie’s car, looking equal parts beautiful and dangerous, stood Estella herself.
“Well, that’s a greeting,” Estella said silkily.
Her hair looked like it had its own damn stylist, in sleek golden waves around her shoulders.
No part of her was trying to blend in with the soccer mums on this Saturday morning, her lip a bright red above another black yoga ensemble, glimpses of smooth skin and tights that fit like a glove.
“What do you want?” Ellie was trying not to panic. Arthur’s team had played last, so the area around the field had emptied fast. Unlike Ellie herself, Estella sure knew how to stalk a girl.
Estella frowned as if she was concerned. “Relax, honey, I’m not going to hit you this time.”
“You didn’t hit me last time!” Ellie was still furious when she remembered it and she felt the blood heat in her cheeks. “What kind of grown adult trips someone over? It’s like you never even left high school.”
“I didn’t hit you?” Estella raised her eyebrows. “My mistake. That must have been someone else that week.”
Ellie considered the distance between where she stood and the driver’s door, but the very second her body made a start for it, Estella pushed off the car, her hand locked tight around Ellie’s wrist before she’d even made it half a foot.
Ellie looked down at Estella’s bright red manicure, her slender graceful fingers, then the taut muscle of her forearm as she held Ellie fast. Yep, strong and feminine. Ellie swallowed.
“I left you alone,” she said, trying not to sound like she was begging. “Just like you asked me to. And now you’re the one following me?”
“How do you like it?” Estella asked her. “Living your life, nice and quiet, attending your nephew’s soccer game — cute kid by the way — and oh, look, you’re being followed!”
“I get it,” Ellie said, quick as a flash. She struggled not to let the fear flare on her face. Estella knew who Arthur was. What had she done? “I totally get it. Lesson learned. You’ll literally never see me again, I swear it.”
“Mm,” Estella said thoughtfully. Her grip on Ellie’s wrist loosened, but she didn’t let go. “You know, I don’t think that’s true. I’ll see you on my screen, won’t I? On billboards all over town. Eloise Silver, playing the role of me. What’s that going to be like for me?”
Ellie sunk her teeth into her lip. Estella cocked her head, waiting, the dappled sunlight and shade from the huge old plane trees overhead glimmering across her face.
“I’m sure it doesn’t feel great,” Ellie said softly, trying to mitigate the encounter.
What the hell did Estella want from her?
She was just doing her damn job. Estella chuckled lightly.
Ellie realised that to any passers-by they’d look like best friends, maybe even more, standing so close and laughing together, practically holding hands.
“Nope, cutie, that’s not what I mean. What exactly is that going to be like? What are you going to portray? A psychopathic monster? A violent whore? Or a little girl lost? What am I going to see when I turn on my television screen to view the story of my life?”
Ellie was quite lost for words. She was also quite over being held captive by Estella Grant. She tugged her wrist back, the ghost of the touch glowing warm on her skin.
“I don’t understand you,” she said finally. “You’re this big bad mobster, doing all kinds of terrible things, but you care what you look like — what I look like — on a TV show?”