Chapter Twenty-Five Nico #2
I grab a dustpan and brush from under the sink and sweep up the mess, while Lee stands in her pink pyjamas looking deeply traumatised.
‘Hey,’ my daughter – utterly unruffled – spins on her stool to face the lawyer, who is standing neatly inside the front door. She lifts her ice cream spoon in a little salute. ‘I’m Phoebe. Do you want some ice cream?’
‘Phoebe!’ I straighten, moving to dump the bits of broken cup into the bin. I turn to the lawyer and let out a loud, and extremely fake, laugh. ‘She’s not having ice cream for breakfast! I mean…’ I flounder, ‘she is, but—’
‘It’s peanut butter flavour, and peanuts are legumes,’ my daughter adds helpfully. ‘Like peas and beans.’
‘I see,’ Charles says in the kind of mild, even tone that leads me to believe he is judging me very hard.
Now that it’s safe for her to move, Lee starts forward, a frozen expression on her face.
‘Mr Saunders. I’m Lee Turner-Jones,’ she says, holding out her hand, and she sounds calm at least. Steady and reassuring. ‘I’m sorry for the… unfortunate greeting. I’m afraid we weren’t expecting you.’
‘So Mr Hart explained.’ Charles takes her hand and shakes it. ‘I apologise for the inconvenience. I will be looking into the miscommunication, I assure you.’
‘No, no,’ Lee shakes her head. ‘Welcome to… our home?’
It’s not ideal that it sounds like a question.
It’s also not ideal when she suddenly blurts, ‘I snore!’
For the first time, Charles’s face displays some emotion. ‘I beg your pardon?’ he asks, clearly startled.
I can’t say I blame him, I have no idea what’s going on. Lee is wringing her hands and I follow her gaze to the sofa, which has my pillow and bed sheets still spread out on it.
I close my eyes.
When I open them, Lee is nodding frantically. ‘Yes, yes, I snore terribly. It’s awful. So loud.’
‘Yes, and,’ Phoebe leaps in, eager to show off her improv skills, ‘it’s real bad. Like, woah, is that an earthquake? No, it’s Lee snoring.’
‘Right,’ Lee blinks. ‘That’s right. And poor Nico.
My husband, Nico,’ Lee gestures at me as if Charles might not know who she’s talking about.
‘He sometimes has to come out here on the sofa, just to get some sleep. I wouldn’t want you thinking…
or getting the wrong impression about… we’re very happy.
’ She takes a step towards me, and slips her arm around my waist, leaning against me so that I can literally feel her vibrating with anxiety.
‘And obviously we sleep together. We love to sleep together… sorry, I don’t mean that we love to sleep together, not that there’s anything wrong in that area, oh no, we have a very active…
but that’s not… that is, I just mean we love sleeping, actually sleeping. In the same bed.’
All three of us are staring at her now, and there’s a long moment of silence.
‘I see,’ Charles says neutrally. I fear this is going to be a response I hear often from him, and I’m worried about how much he does actually see.
‘Want to have a look at my room?’ Phoebe pipes up.
‘Certainly.’ Charles inclines his head and follows her. Phoebe turns to glance back over her shoulder, shooting Lee and me a look that very clearly says get it together!!!
Once they’re out of sight, Lee steps away from me and slumps, her hand reaching out to hold the back of the sofa.
‘Oh my god, I’m going to be sick,’ she whispers.
‘I can’t imagine why,’ I manage. ‘That went great.’
‘I think I blacked out for a second there.’ She closes her eyes. ‘Did I—’
‘Start rambling about our very active sex life?’ A hysterical laugh is making its way up from my chest. ‘I had some trouble following, but I’m pretty sure you did.’
‘Oh my god,’ she moans again. ‘I can’t believe that happened.’ She looks down at herself. ‘I can’t believe I’m wearing pink cat pyjamas. I had such a good outfit planned for this meeting. I was going to wear a jacket with shoulder pads, Nico. Shoulder pads!’
‘I—’ I don’t know how to respond to this, but it seems my response is not needed.
‘Not like, Eighties Working Girl shoulder pads or anything,’ she continues, her eyes slightly wild. ‘But an extremely tasteful, tailored suit in understated neutrals. And Louboutins. Very high ones, immaculately polished. I was not going to be barefoot, wearing novelty pyjamas with unbrushed hair.’
I take a step forward, and put a hand on each of her un-padded shoulders.
‘Daisy?’ I say.
‘Yes?’ She blinks helplessly up at me.
‘Take a breath.’ I pull her gently against me, and her arms wind around my waist. Her cheek rests on my chest.
‘Okay,’ she murmurs, her eyes fluttering closed as she exhales. ‘Okay. I can fix this.’
‘We can fix this,’ I agree.
‘You know if we’re going to fix this you’re actually going to have to say something,’ she grumbles. ‘Not just stand there looking shell-shocked.’
‘I think you were talking enough for the both of us,’ I laugh, and she pokes me hard in the chest, but there’s the ghost of a smile on her lips.
‘… and that’s why Pluto is included even though it is only a dwarf planet,’ Phoebe is loudly explaining to Charles as her bedroom door opens.
Charles holds a small notebook and makes an annotation in it with a shiny gold pen. Presumably giving me negative marks on my astronomy knowledge.
I’m about to offer him a cup of coffee, when there’s another knock at the door.
‘Wow.’ I force a smile. ‘We are popular this morning. I wonder who that is.’
When I open the door it is to find an extraordinarily glamorous woman, swathed in a fur coat and matching fur headband, peering at me from behind enormous sunglasses, a wide, gleaming white smile on her face.
‘Darling!’ she exclaims, throwing her arms out wide.