Chapter 20
HEATHER
It’s two in the afternoon by the time Heather has got the young people out of bed, showered, fed and rehydrated, but she’s not about to let hangovers affect her New Year’s tradition.
She guides them to the dining room table and gestures for them to sit. ‘Okay. So, I’ve given you all four Post-Its. On the first one, you need to write down what you’re proud of each person for achieving this year,’ she says.
She quietly gathers the dirty plates from their celebratory brunch whilst the teenagers take a pen and Post-It pad from the centre of the table and busy themselves with their thoughts.
‘Now, write three things you wish for the other person for next year,’ she says once the dishwasher is loaded, and the kitchen is back into a reasonable semblance of order.
Again, the teenagers bow their heads and write industriously, looking up occasionally to stare into space, or share a smile with their friend.
Sharing afterwards is enlightening.
‘I’m super proud of you for coming out last term,’ Georgia tells Trey.
‘Me too, me too. I had that one!’ shouts Brianna excitedly, sticking the Post-It on her palm and thrusting it towards Trey’s face. Trey blushes a little and beams.
‘Aw, Trey. Good for you. That’s great,’ Heather says.
‘You guys have done brilliantly getting your second-year accommodation sorted,’ Trey says when it’s his turn.
The two girls turn towards each other and exchange a high ten.
‘Yay to us,’ Brianna says.
‘Erm,’ Heather interjects, not wishing to dampen the celebration. ‘What’s this?’
‘It’s great,’ Brianna says, ‘central. Lots of space. Within Georgia’s budget. We need to get the deposit together, but that should be no problem.’
‘Deposit?’ Heather asks.
‘Yeah,’ Georgia pipes, ‘It’s five grand or something like it.’
‘Right.’
Whilst the students snuggle up on the sofa to binge watch the Star Trek blockbusters (which Trey can’t fathom the girls have not seen), Heather quickly checks her messages.
She finds the document Georgia forwarded to her a few weeks ago and quickly skim reads the rental agreement for the girls' second-year house. Then she turns her attention to the thing she’s been dying to do all day.
“HNY, Scott!” she types, “Little heads up. B mentioned their second-year house today. Know anything about it? Seems like there’s a five-thousand-pound deposit to pay in advance, and they need us to act as guarantors.
I’m no legal expert, but I’ve taken a quick look through the contract, and it seems a bit fishy to me. Have you seen it? What do you think?”
“P.S. Trey came out last term. He doesn’t want it to be ‘a thing’, but asked if I could tell you.”
“P.P.S Things you should be proud of: raising a brilliant daughter who has confidence and resilience beyond her years, having a bad-ass attitude wrt adventure sports, not succumbing to SM hype.”
“P.P.P.S Things I hope for you in the new year: serious training for that super tough bike ride next summer; getting your house sorted (you told me you’ve not done any repairs for years?); enjoying your new office space in Glasgow and meeting like-minded people there.”
She adds a kiss.
Should she have added a kiss?
SCOTT
Scott’s halfway through watching “The Guardians of the Galaxy” when Heather’s text comes in. Who was he kidding that a movie would distract him from the continual phone checking through the morning? He jumps on his mobile like a rabid dog, desperate to see if a girl he likes has messaged him back.
He skims her messages, which came through one on the back of the other, and focuses initially on the last two.
How can someone he’s known only a few weeks make such insightful comments about his life?
How has she managed to break down their interactions into a personalised list of significant achievements and a coherent assimilation of his future plans?
Scott finds himself thinking, yet again, what an incredible woman Heather is turning out to be. And that kiss! Did he mention he was fixated by that kiss? She’d added an “X” to her final message. Is she obsessing about that fleeting contact between them on Christmas Day as well?
He feels himself hardening at the thought of her and almost, almost, allows himself to be distracted from her earliest message, but something from his first skim through pulls him back. He studies it again. “Does he know about the second-year house?”
No, but nor would he really expect to. Brianna’s old enough to sort that kind of shit out for herself.
But a five grand deposit? That captures his attention.
There’s no way she should pay a 5k down payment for what looks like …
he clicks on Heather’s link to the property…
an absolute hovel of a place. And with him and Heather acting as guarantors? No fucking chance!
The decision to call her doesn’t seem to divert to his brain. It’s instantaneous. She answers immediately.
‘Five grand deposit?’ he says.
He winces when he hears his own words uttered aloud. Taking a moment to think before he acts would, perhaps, have avoided such an aggressive introduction.
Heather laughs down the line. Thankfully.
‘Exactly,’ she says, ‘and Happy New Year. I really loved your comments for me, by the way.’
Scott puts his knuckle into his mouth and bites down gently.
Pull it together, Scott!
‘Me too. Thanks for yours,’ he says whilst tapping his forehead against the wall and wondering if he could be any more awkward.
‘So, yes. Five grand. What do you reckon?’ she asks.
Money. Finance. Statistics. Risk. Now he’s back on familiar territory.
‘Honestly, I think they’ve fallen victim to some kind of scam.’
There’s a weighty pause. He can imagine Heather biting her lip on the other end of the line in that adorable tell she has when she’s stressed.
‘It might be partly my fault. I asked Georgia to keep her rent within a certain price bracket. Maybe I set the bar too low?’
Scott nods. ‘Let me speak with Brianna. We’ll sort something out.’
A five-minute phone call with Brianna confirms all they need to know. He makes himself watch to the end of the movie and eat before messaging Heather back. It can’t be good for her to sense he’s sitting on his sofa, desperate for interaction with her.
“Yep. Sounds dodgy, all right. I’ve asked if we can view the property with them the day after drop off. Would that suit?”
Heather replies a few minutes later with a thumbs-up emoji.
A thumbs up emoji, for fuck’s sake. Talk about playing him at his own game.