mouth.
"Good, that's settled then," said Mole, moving briskly past me. "Now, do you want anything to eat? You must be starving. Go and ask Alice if she takes milk and sugar. We've got some biscuits that need eating up."
Alice had not moved from the sofa. Our dumpy surrogate was leafing through one of Mole's art books on the coffee table. I was so angry I could have torn it from her hands. Alice appeared frightened when she looked up, and shrugged apologetically as if to say, none of this is my fault. I shot a glance towards the kitchen, making sure Emily was out of earshot, and then stood over her. Glancing down, I realised I had unconsciously balled my hand into a fist.
"What the hell are you playing at?" I hissed.
"It weren't my fault. Honest. She insisted. She called me on my phone and said she needed to see me. I tried telling her that I wanted my own place. But she weren't having none of it. You've got to believe me, swear down."
I felt like a tin can that had been kicked down the ribs of a mineshaft. My mind was buffering, figuring out what to do. First I never want to see her again, and now she's going to live with us? I could hear Mole still moving about in the kitchen; we had only a few seconds to finish this conversation. "All right. Look, nothing has changed. You don't say anything about what happened last night, and neither do I. Okay?"
Alice nodded, looking as if she was about to cry. Please, God, don't start with the tears. Mugs were being pulled out of the cupboard. Mole could walk in at any moment.
"Alice, do you take sugar?" she called out.
"Yes. Two please," Alice replied.
I whispered, "If my wife finds out, then my marriage is over."
I mimed putting both hands in the air and making a placatory gesture towards Alice. Okay? Do you understand? Alice nodded. Good, that was settled – we were both back on the same page again. Jesus wept, what a mess. Inwardly, though, I breathed a sigh of relief. Mole walked in carrying a tray with a teapot and three Emma Bridgewater mugs on it. There was that awkward silence when somebody walks back into the room and knows you've just been talking about them. A tremor of uncertainty crossed Mole's face.
"Everything all right?" she asked.
Alice stood up and looked out of the window. "It's a lovely place you've got here. Can you see the Shard from this window?"
"Here, let me help you with that," I said automatically. Mole shook her head.
"No, that's Canary Wharf in the distance," said Mole. "You can't see the Shard from here."
Alice turned back to me. "Will you take a photo on my iPhone? I want to send it to my mate. She'll be dead jealous. Living the dream."
Our surrogate handed me her mobile and slid the glass door to the balcony open to stand with her back to the Thames. There was a seven-story drop from the balcony, and for a moment the thought crossed my mind to push her off it. Stop being so ridiculous, I thought. Instead, I lined up her sallow face in the viewfinder.
"You've really got it sorted here, haven't you?" she said, posing for the photograph. "Some people just don't appreciate what they have."
I will always remember that photograph. It went on Alice’s Facebook page, along with photos of Emily and me getting married.
Mole was already pouring tea when we stepped back inside. "Now," she said. "Shall I be mother?"
Chapter Ten
Lying in bed that night, Mole snuggled up to me, draping her leg over my thigh. I buried my head in her neck and breathed deeply. She smelled delicious. Lifting my head, I moved a stray blond hair away from her forehead and looked deeply into her eyes, noticing how they seemed to change colour from blue to green to grey. How could I have been so stupid to do what I did?
"I expected you to put up more of a fight about Alice," Mole sighed.
"I want her out once she's found her feet. I don't want her moving in here permanently. Once she's found a job, she goes. Agreed?"
Mole nodded and moved even closer. "I just want to get
"Good, that's settled then," said Mole, moving briskly past me. "Now, do you want anything to eat? You must be starving. Go and ask Alice if she takes milk and sugar. We've got some biscuits that need eating up."
Alice had not moved from the sofa. Our dumpy surrogate was leafing through one of Mole's art books on the coffee table. I was so angry I could have torn it from her hands. Alice appeared frightened when she looked up, and shrugged apologetically as if to say, none of this is my fault. I shot a glance towards the kitchen, making sure Emily was out of earshot, and then stood over her. Glancing down, I realised I had unconsciously balled my hand into a fist.
"What the hell are you playing at?" I hissed.
"It weren't my fault. Honest. She insisted. She called me on my phone and said she needed to see me. I tried telling her that I wanted my own place. But she weren't having none of it. You've got to believe me, swear down."
I felt like a tin can that had been kicked down the ribs of a mineshaft. My mind was buffering, figuring out what to do. First I never want to see her again, and now she's going to live with us? I could hear Mole still moving about in the kitchen; we had only a few seconds to finish this conversation. "All right. Look, nothing has changed. You don't say anything about what happened last night, and neither do I. Okay?"
Alice nodded, looking as if she was about to cry. Please, God, don't start with the tears. Mugs were being pulled out of the cupboard. Mole could walk in at any moment.
"Alice, do you take sugar?" she called out.
"Yes. Two please," Alice replied.
I whispered, "If my wife finds out, then my marriage is over."
I mimed putting both hands in the air and making a placatory gesture towards Alice. Okay? Do you understand? Alice nodded. Good, that was settled – we were both back on the same page again. Jesus wept, what a mess. Inwardly, though, I breathed a sigh of relief. Mole walked in carrying a tray with a teapot and three Emma Bridgewater mugs on it. There was that awkward silence when somebody walks back into the room and knows you've just been talking about them. A tremor of uncertainty crossed Mole's face.
"Everything all right?" she asked.
Alice stood up and looked out of the window. "It's a lovely place you've got here. Can you see the Shard from this window?"
"Here, let me help you with that," I said automatically. Mole shook her head.
"No, that's Canary Wharf in the distance," said Mole. "You can't see the Shard from here."
Alice turned back to me. "Will you take a photo on my iPhone? I want to send it to my mate. She'll be dead jealous. Living the dream."
Our surrogate handed me her mobile and slid the glass door to the balcony open to stand with her back to the Thames. There was a seven-story drop from the balcony, and for a moment the thought crossed my mind to push her off it. Stop being so ridiculous, I thought. Instead, I lined up her sallow face in the viewfinder.
"You've really got it sorted here, haven't you?" she said, posing for the photograph. "Some people just don't appreciate what they have."
I will always remember that photograph. It went on Alice’s Facebook page, along with photos of Emily and me getting married.
Mole was already pouring tea when we stepped back inside. "Now," she said. "Shall I be mother?"
Chapter Ten
Lying in bed that night, Mole snuggled up to me, draping her leg over my thigh. I buried my head in her neck and breathed deeply. She smelled delicious. Lifting my head, I moved a stray blond hair away from her forehead and looked deeply into her eyes, noticing how they seemed to change colour from blue to green to grey. How could I have been so stupid to do what I did?
"I expected you to put up more of a fight about Alice," Mole sighed.
"I want her out once she's found her feet. I don't want her moving in here permanently. Once she's found a job, she goes. Agreed?"
Mole nodded and moved even closer. "I just want to get
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