Page 24 of The Temp

‘Oh, fucking hell.’ Linda squatted and held onto my knees. ‘The other option, of course, would be to ring Zelda tomorrow morning and tell her everything you know about Frank, bar my one-night-stand with him, and make sure she knows you’ll go along with whatever decision she makes. Clear the air, sooner rather than later. I can’t believe he overheard your conversation. The sneaky bastard.’

Blowing my nose into a tissue, I said. ‘I’d tell her in a heartbeat if she’d listen. But will she, now that he’s proposed? You saw how happy she was. I don’t even care if Frank tells Tom he saw me with Liam. It’s about time he knew. The guilt has been clawing away at me for weeks.’ Inhaling teary phlegm, I shook my head boldly. ‘I’ll be free then. And if Tom bails on us, I’ll just have to suck it up.’

‘I’m never getting married,’ Georgia says, snapping me back to now. ‘Can I live with you forever, Mum?’

‘Of course, you can, love,’ I soothe. ‘What’s brought this on?’ I wonder if she’s upset about a boy. Or a girl. Georgia knows we’re supportive of same-sex relationships. A new love interest would explain why she’s suddenly wearing so much makeup and got hammered today. Maybe she likes someone at school who’s blown her out. She was talking to Anna’s son, Ralf, outside his house for quite a while yesterday morning. It did look quite intense. I wonder if it’s him.

‘Thanks, Mum,’ Georgia groans, ignoring my question. ‘Love you.’

‘I love you too, more than anything.’ I go to stroke her hair when she pushes me away and turns on her side.

‘I think I’m okay now, you can go.’

Accepting my dismissal like a servant, I get to my feet, sweep up her orange hoodie, black shorts and sole-blackened socks and place them on the chair before switching the lights off. ‘Na-night, Georgie.’

I go to turn the doorknob when she says, ‘I hope she doesn’t marry him. Frank creeps me out.’ I stand stock-still. The light goes back on. Spinning round, I open my mouth to ask her why, when she says, ‘Night-night, Mum.’ And her eyes close.

Chapter 21

Negotiating my way to our bedroom, I mull over what Georgia just said about Frank. What is it about him that gives her the creeps? Did Frank say anything to her? Eye her up? But even he can’t be that stupid – not with her father in plain sight. Besides, Georgia would’ve said. She’s no pushover – she’s like Tom and her grandfather, Gary - outspoken, says it how she sees it.

‘Everything all right, Bella?’ Daisy’s voice startles me. She’s standing in the doorway of her bedroom in a bra and a pair of lacy plum knickers, drying her hair on a purple towel. She looks beautiful. My eyes sweep over her lean, curvy body and sculpted limbs. I’m not sure if it’s because Linda planted the seed earlier and Frank’s remark about her preferring older men, but seeing her standing there, half-naked, unsettles me. Throwing a glance at our bedroom door, I cross my arms, glad Tom is behind it, snoring his head off. ‘I heard voices.’

‘Georgia was sick. Too much booze.’

Daisy tuts, concerned. ‘Is she okay?’ I tell her that she will be, and Daisy shakes her head, warns me that she’ll have a stinking hangover in the morning. ‘Sorry about this.’ Flinging the towel over her shoulder, she points to her underwear. ‘I heard Tom snoring, so thought it was safe to venture.’ Of course she did. I’m being silly. It’s been a long day. We’re all exhausted. I push my hands into the pockets of my dressing gown, hating myself for doubting her. It’s that Linda’s fault, putting ideas into my head. ‘I’m going to watch something on Netflix. My head is buzzing. Don’t think I can sleep after all that excitement. Night, Bella.’

‘Night, Daisy, and thanks for today.’ I turn the doorknob. It opens with a creak. Tom’s snores amplify. ‘Actually, do you fancy a cuppa?’

In the kitchen, I make us two cups of peppermint tea using fresh leaves from the plant in my window box, and we sit barefooted at the oak table in matching white, fluffy dressing gowns. I let her borrow mine and slipped into Tom’s.

‘Penny for them,’ Daisy says, blowing on her hot tea.

‘Just thinking about my sister and her new fiancé.’ Saying the word fiancé turns my stomach. I raise my eyebrows over my cup, take a sip, and burn my tongue.

‘He’s a lucky guy.’ Daisy looks up at the spotlighted ceiling. ‘Zelda’s gorgeous. Your friends are lovely, too.’ I agree, tell her that Linda and I go back a long way. ‘Her hubby’s a bit quiet, though, isn’t he?’ I can tell that by this she means moody, but is being polite. ‘Very Byronic,’ she grins, a twinkle in her eye. That is one way of describing him. ‘Don’t think he liked Frank much, although he did perk up a bit when they announced their engagement,’ she says, and I can tell she suspects something, maybe fishing for information.

‘He’s a bit overprotective at times.’

Daisy raises an eyebrow. ‘Linda is a beauty.’

I agree, and then I say, ‘So, what did you make of Frank?’ I blow on my steamy tea, breathing in the peppermint.

Daisy shrugs. ‘Fit but not my type.’ She winks. ‘Nice butt.’

‘That’s down to all that gyming. He’s very dedicated.’ Not to mention vain.

‘Loves himself a bit, eh?’ she says, as if I teleported my thoughts directly into her brain. ‘I’ve never seen anyone take so many selfies. He seems nice enough, although there was this one thing.’ Daisy looks into space, cradling her mug with both hands. ‘That I found a bit weird.’

My eyes widen. ‘Oh?’

‘You know when I was making the hot drinks in the kitchen? Well, Zelda and Frank were at the table, bent over their phones.’ Yes, that’s right. We took the party inside. The sun had gone down and it was getting a bit chilly. Plus they wanted to get online and announce their engagement on social media. ‘I had my back to them most of the time, but at one point I heard him say he wanted to see the photos she’d taken. I could hear rustling and murmurs, and I got the feeling she was resisting.’

Her comment unnerves me, but then it’s not a crime to want to see photos of yourself, especially if they’re going to be posted online. Knowing Frank, he’d have wanted to inspect them. Tweak them a bit first. Stick a filter on.

‘Their voices grew louder, so I glanced round, asked if either of them fancied a hot drink, and that’s when I saw him holding her by the wrist and she let go of her phone.’

The edges of the room darken like a vignette photograph, swallowing me in. ‘Are you sure,’ I croak, feeling lightheaded, ‘that it wasn’t playful?’

---