But what is also true is that I don’t want to be here tonight. I was here last night, and the day before, and the day before that. I want to go home. I want to pour a bubble bath for me and Rae to share, and have a chat to reassure her about after-school club. Then I want to work out some notes for my meeting with Loll Parker tomorrow, and maybe have a glass of wine and pluck my eyebrows.
The thought of eyebrows makes my mouth twitch.
* * *
It was just before home time when I pushed open the heavy metal door of the toilet at Rocket, with its black granite V for Venus ( M for Mars on the men’s), to find Megan standing looking in the mirror.
“Great promo,” she says. “Guy’s so chuffed to have you back. We’ve all heard about you, you know.”
“Really?” I frown, not knowing how to reply. Instead I watch her applying red lipstick, presumably on her way out for a night in Soho.
“Your eyebrows are amazing,” I blurt out, pointing at the arched, penned creations above her huge blue eyes.
“Thanks,” she says cheerfully. “This woman at my dry cleaner’s threads them for me. She says the arch shapes your eye better.”
“Oh really?” I mutter ruefully, poking at the little advancing army of mousy hairs that I notice have crept below my own eyebrows. “Yeah, well, mine don’t so much frame my eyes as keep them warm.”
And this is the bit that is making me smile in Suzy’s hall.
Megan laughed.
Not the neat little laugh that Suzy emits when I attempt humor, followed by the comment, “That’s a good one,” as if she understands I’m making a joke but not why it’s funny. This was a proper laugh. First Megan snorted through her nose. Then she threw her head back and let out this warm, joyous, throaty chortle, and touched my arm warmly.
“It’s going to be so great having another girl here,” she exclaimed happily, heading out the door. “See you tomorrow, Callie.”
* * *
“What?” Suzy says. “Why are you smiling?”
“Oh,” I say. “Nothing—just something at work. Anyway, listen, I meant to say. Rae tried to run down the pavement tonight—if you are with her, can you make sure you hold her hand? She nearly fell.”
“I always do, hon.”
“I know. Thanks.” I touch her arm. “And, thanks for being here when I’m at work. Next time she stays at Tom’s, I’ll babysit to say thanks.”
“Cool,” she says, still looking distracted.
What happened to coolio, her favorite stupid word? I watch her. What is up with her? She’s not sulking about the spa, is she? Suzy and I have never had a cross word in two years. Not for us the carefree, drunken arguments Sophie and I used to have about who locked who out of the flat last night by accident, made up croakily over cereal bowls in the morning and hugs in pajamas and last night’s mascara. I can’t risk that with Suzy. Who knows what might be said?
“So . . .” I say, carefully, forcing myself to remember that I only want to pull away a little from Suzy right now. Not lose her completely.
“So,” she replies. “See you tomorrow.” She hugs me and Rae again, and we walk across the road to our front door. I pull out the key, already dreading the mess of discarded pajamas and breakfast bowls waiting behind it.
Tiredness washes over me. Rae sighs, too, leaning into my side. At least her cheeks are bright. They have definitely taken on a new, rosy hue. I put my arm round her shoulder and guide her inside the house. As I pull the door behind us, I look up and see Suzy standing at her gate, peering anxiously up toward the main road.
No. That has nothing to do with me, I reassure myself. Not this time. And shut the door.
14
Suzy
Suzy turned back from the gate, shut the front door, and returned to the kitchen, biting her lip. Wordlessly, she removed the plates, cups, and cutlery she had laid out for Callie and Rae on the kitchen table and put them back in a cupboard.
She looked
The thought of eyebrows makes my mouth twitch.
* * *
It was just before home time when I pushed open the heavy metal door of the toilet at Rocket, with its black granite V for Venus ( M for Mars on the men’s), to find Megan standing looking in the mirror.
“Great promo,” she says. “Guy’s so chuffed to have you back. We’ve all heard about you, you know.”
“Really?” I frown, not knowing how to reply. Instead I watch her applying red lipstick, presumably on her way out for a night in Soho.
“Your eyebrows are amazing,” I blurt out, pointing at the arched, penned creations above her huge blue eyes.
“Thanks,” she says cheerfully. “This woman at my dry cleaner’s threads them for me. She says the arch shapes your eye better.”
“Oh really?” I mutter ruefully, poking at the little advancing army of mousy hairs that I notice have crept below my own eyebrows. “Yeah, well, mine don’t so much frame my eyes as keep them warm.”
And this is the bit that is making me smile in Suzy’s hall.
Megan laughed.
Not the neat little laugh that Suzy emits when I attempt humor, followed by the comment, “That’s a good one,” as if she understands I’m making a joke but not why it’s funny. This was a proper laugh. First Megan snorted through her nose. Then she threw her head back and let out this warm, joyous, throaty chortle, and touched my arm warmly.
“It’s going to be so great having another girl here,” she exclaimed happily, heading out the door. “See you tomorrow, Callie.”
* * *
“What?” Suzy says. “Why are you smiling?”
“Oh,” I say. “Nothing—just something at work. Anyway, listen, I meant to say. Rae tried to run down the pavement tonight—if you are with her, can you make sure you hold her hand? She nearly fell.”
“I always do, hon.”
“I know. Thanks.” I touch her arm. “And, thanks for being here when I’m at work. Next time she stays at Tom’s, I’ll babysit to say thanks.”
“Cool,” she says, still looking distracted.
What happened to coolio, her favorite stupid word? I watch her. What is up with her? She’s not sulking about the spa, is she? Suzy and I have never had a cross word in two years. Not for us the carefree, drunken arguments Sophie and I used to have about who locked who out of the flat last night by accident, made up croakily over cereal bowls in the morning and hugs in pajamas and last night’s mascara. I can’t risk that with Suzy. Who knows what might be said?
“So . . .” I say, carefully, forcing myself to remember that I only want to pull away a little from Suzy right now. Not lose her completely.
“So,” she replies. “See you tomorrow.” She hugs me and Rae again, and we walk across the road to our front door. I pull out the key, already dreading the mess of discarded pajamas and breakfast bowls waiting behind it.
Tiredness washes over me. Rae sighs, too, leaning into my side. At least her cheeks are bright. They have definitely taken on a new, rosy hue. I put my arm round her shoulder and guide her inside the house. As I pull the door behind us, I look up and see Suzy standing at her gate, peering anxiously up toward the main road.
No. That has nothing to do with me, I reassure myself. Not this time. And shut the door.
14
Suzy
Suzy turned back from the gate, shut the front door, and returned to the kitchen, biting her lip. Wordlessly, she removed the plates, cups, and cutlery she had laid out for Callie and Rae on the kitchen table and put them back in a cupboard.
She looked
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