Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
Flora
So much for putting Mr Walker, Maurice…Maurizio on ice.
God, that had sounded good, saying his name like that.
It felt like intimacy on the tip of my tongue.
But whatever his name, I wasn’t doing so well with the bosszone.
I still couldn’t believe how close we’d come to kissing in his office.
I’d nearly ended up with his tongue in my mouth at the very least.
“Bugger,” I muttered as I got out of the Uber and made my way into the garage where I was greeted by a friendly man who seemed to know who I was.
He held out my keys and smiled. “Your boss called to say you were on your way. She’s all ready for you.”
I followed the point of his finger to where my car was parked on the other side of the road.
“I best pay you then.”
He frowned. “All done.”
I reciprocated his confusion with a frown of my own now.
“Your boss has already settled the bill.”
“Oh.” I had no other words, well not for the man before me, but my boss, that was a different matter because when I’d previously asked about cost, Maurice had simply said the guy owed him a favour. I had taken that to mean that he was doing a cheap job.
He handed me my keys with the warning words of, “I don’t know how long she’ll last. She’s been well loved.” My car was on its last legs.
I offered him a final thank you and headed back to the house, praying my car wasn’t going to show its last legs on the ride home.
The children were playing in the garden when I got back, so Bea and I took the opportunity to sit outdoors to supervise them while we chatted.
“How are you finding it? All settled in?”
I stared at her and was unsure how to answer what should have been a simple question. My reaction must have been funny as I watched her laugh at me.
“That good, huh?”
“Sorry, yeah, all good. I love it here and the kids are great, and you and my rooms.”
She flicked the dark blonde plait her hair was in and quirked a disbelieving brow at me.
“What?”
“Nothing,” she replied, but her nothing was anything but. It spoke a thousand words.
Unsure if I wanted her to shut up and leave things be or if I needed a confidante who I could share my worries and concerns with, I said nothing.
“I don’t know what else to say, but if you want to talk, I’m here.”
I viewed her with suspicion. I didn’t know her, not really, and she could easily throw me under the bus if I shared too much.
“The offer’s there. No pressure.” She shrugged. “You should meet my friend, Carrie. You’d like her. Everyone does.”
I searched her tone, demeanour and expression at those last two words for anything akin to bitchiness, but there was none. Her pale blue eyes smiled as much as her mouth did. She was totally genuine in her belief and sentiment that everyone loved her friend.
“I don’t have any friends or know anyone yet, so, that would be nice,” I agreed as Rosie came running back to us.
“Craig has just done a wee in the bush down there.” The little girl put a hand on her hip, horrified and disgusted at the idea of peeing in the garden.
Bea shook her head and got to her feet, ready to go and deal with Craig and his rogue, outdoor peeing behaviour.
“Let me,” I offered. I got on with both of the children, but of the two of them, Craig was still a little resistant to my presence here at what he viewed as Bea’s expense.
Rosie stood at my side, ready to escort me.
Sensing that she may want her brother’s chastisement to be greater than anything I intended to deliver, I told her to stay with Bea to keep her company.
When she looked ready to object, I repeated my words but now it was more of a directive than a suggestion which she picked up on.
When I reached Craig, he was sat in the corner of the garden. His legs were pulled up so his face that was covered by his hands rested on his knees.
“Hey.” I sat next to him and waited a few seconds. “I heard you got caught short.”
He moved his hands and turned his head slightly, until he was looking at me. His very confused expression suggested he was unsure what my words had meant.
“You needed a wee . . . maybe left it a bit late to get inside to go?” I phrased my words as a question, allowing him to simply agree, not needing to make the kid feel scared or ashamed. In the grand scheme of things, a three-year-old little boy weeing in the garden wasn’t exactly major in my book.
He nodded and looked as if he might cry.
I shuffled a little closer and draped an arm around his shoulders that I used to pull him in. “It happens to everyone.”
He looked up, a small disbelieving frown creasing his brow.
“It does!” I laughed. “I have had to find somewhere quiet and private when there have been no toilets around.”
“Really?” The tiniest of smiles tugged at his lips.
“Really. I promise you. I mean it. Everyone has done it at some point in their lives.”
“Am I in trouble?” A wobble entered his voice as the possible consequences returned.
A shake of my head was my response. “I don’t see why you would be. It’s not like you do this all the time and it was an emergency, right?”
“I thought I might wet myself.”
The shake of my head was now replaced with a nod. “So, an emergency, but you know, even if you had wet yourself, that would have been okay, you wouldn’t have been in trouble for that either . . . accidents happen.”
“I love Bea . . .” his voice trailed off. “But I like you. I’m glad you’re our nanny too.”
The smile cracking my face was my only response along with offering my hand so we might both get to our feet.
Bea had a doctor’s appointment so planned on leaving early, but before she did, we managed more chatter while the children, who had exhausted themselves running around, took a short nap.
“You were saying earlier that you were enjoying life here . . .”
I looked across at Bea and laughed at her lack of subtlety.
“Sorry, well, I’m not sorry, but I can’t do tactful very well.”
I laughed again and she joined in.
“My friend, Carrie, she makes me look like a diplomat.”
My laughter turned into a roar that saw me almost choke on my own saliva. “You’re really selling her to me, aren’t you?”
With a cheeky grin, she shrugged. “So, how are you finding things, really?”
“I wasn’t lying to you earlier. I do love it here and talking to you, the kids and my rooms are great.”
She nodded. “And Maurice?”
I couldn’t tell if she was simply fishing for gossip.
The question was undoubtedly loaded, but did she have ulterior motives?
Studying her face, I saw nothing but sincere openness and it gave me no cause to question her intentions.
She’d gone so far as to invite me to join her friendship group and to the best of my knowledge, Carrie was her only real friend.
“Maurice? Maurizio.” I overemphasised his name and we both giggled.
“Yes, Maurizio,” she said with a put on thick Italian accent that would have fitted better as a voice over for a pasta sauce advert.
“He’s strange.”
She arched a brow and her voice bestowed confusion at my choice of the word. “Strange?”
“Maybe not strange.” I wasn’t sure what to say about him but tried to find the right words again. “He has made me feel very welcome here. He paid for the repair on my car.”
Bea looked startled at that. Clearly this wasn’t his usual behaviour.
“He never really mentioned it and when I tried to pay, it was all done and dusted.”
“I see.”
“Do you? I’m not sure I do. Sorry. He is nice, more than nice, and he loves the children and I know he’s been through a tough time with his wife and stuff.”
Bea nodded. “And there’s always the added bonus of him being attractive, he’s very easy on the eye for a slightly older man.”
I laughed and couldn’t deny what she was saying. I wouldn’t embarrass myself by attempting to dispute it.
“You’ve noticed, then?”
“It would be very hard not to, wouldn’t it?” I wasn’t lying, it would.
“It would. Just be careful. He’s still on the rebound and you’re new . . .”
Her voice trailed off as my face morphed into a horrified expression at what I perceived she was saying, that he was probably only looking for a convenient bunk up and I was new enough to replace without too much disruption.
Before either of us spoke again, my phone rang, speak of the devil.
The boss needed me to stay on the clock until he got home.
I had no problem with that and was happy to feed, bathe and put the children to bed if he wasn’t back.
Aside from that, I was even happier that my conversation with Bea had been cut short and by the time I got off the phone, she’d needed to leave so I didn’t have time to think about it beyond that.
Although, I was going to think about it. Why lie to myself?