Page 52 of Cuts Like An Angel: Part 3

Chapter Twenty-Two

William

“Are you nearly ready?” William asked for about the sixth time as he paced across the landing. The skin on his thumb had already started to ache from his incessant nibbling at it, but it didn’t stop him doing it more. He knocked on the bathroom door, eager for Rosie. It had been a long time since William had done anything like this, something as simple as going out to dinner with a friend. “Do I have to come in there?”

“One minute,” Rosie said from the other side of the bathroom door. William paced again.

It had been almost two weeks since the whole dishwasher incident, and so far, there had been no more Maria mishaps, but that wasn’t to say they weren’t waiting around the corner, like a pack of hungry dogs ready to knock him and Rosie right off their feet. The silence couldn’t have been a good sign. He’d told Rosie more than once that this was his mother luring them into a false sense of security and not to trust it. She was the monster in the corner waiting to pounce.

He'd heard from Dana a couple of times. It was strange. He never did well with people he didn’t know, but Dana, like Rosie, was easy to talk to, easy to let in. Especially when he was the one being leaned on. So far Dana had managed to get herself back to her yoga classes. It was progress.

William struggled with the fact he hadn’t told Rosie yet about Dana, but the more time went by and the more times she texted him, the harder it became. He didn’t want Rosie to think it was any more than friends. Not when everything seemed to be going so well.

It was easy for William to lose himself in things, though. What with the constant adverts on television promising jolly holidays, and the way the shops played Christmas music and decorated every display in festive glitter. Even his house held a faint Christmas scent … cinnamon and something. It all made William not want to do anything to cause any kind of chaos.

“It’s been five minutes,” William said, trying again. His thumb really did hurt. He had to stop this chewing, or he’d wind up with fingers that hurt too much, and he wouldn’t be able to work.

“Just give me a …” The door opened and William paused, his hand held in a fist ready to knock, again. “Second … Does this look okay?” She spun in front of him, giving him the full visual display.

“Wow,” was all he managed. The word coming out of his mouth like a gush of air.

“Does that mean yes?”

“It means, hell yes.” Seeing her there, dressed like that … it made William want to scoop her up and take her to the bedroom. He could show her just how well she looked in there. But they needed to meet Mark. They needed this outing.

Rosie beamed up at him, her eyes glinting with the pleasure of his words.

“I think you need to get changed, though,” he said, and he tried not to let his laughter out when her expression dropped, and her eyes widened. She opened her mouth to speak, but William leant into her, inhaled the sweet scent of her perfume and whispered against her ear. “How am I meant to focus when you look like this?” He slid a hand around her waist to hook her and then pulled her against him. God, he was so lucky. He’d pinch himself to check if he were dreaming, but then if he was, he didn’t want the dream to end. “You look amazing, Rosie.”

She smacked him lightly on the chest but didn’t break the embrace. He didn’t want her to.

“You’re a pig sometimes, you know? Whatever happened to English manners?”

“Just a myth.”

“I’d say so. My heart is still pounding.” She put her hand to her chest. “You’re lucky I didn’t have a break down and ruin my makeup.”

“Now that would be a disaster. Ready to go? I just need to get my mother’s stuff sorted.”

“I am. The hot water bottle is on the top of the fridge. Want me to fill it?”

Lately, Maria had complained at how cold she was. It wasn’t cold, and the heating was cranked up to levels that would surely have them bankrupt when the utility bills came in, in January.

William had bought her a hot water bottle. That way, it warmed her bed and she didn’t need to sleep with the fire blazing all night. She could sit with it under her fat arse.

“I can do it. You may want a jacket.”

Rosie laughed. “I was planning on a full ski suit. How you all live through this all the time, I’ll never know.” She grabbed her jacket off the hook next to his. A big, thick puffer jacket that they’d bought when William got the hint Rosie was freezing.

William went into the kitchen, and as with his usual routine, he checked the dishwasher—that it was still loaded, still on its timer and everything was in order. When he grabbed a mug out of the cupboard for his mother’s tea, he checked the inside of that too, expecting to find coffee rings around the inside, or bits of food that had got stuck. It was automatic to him now. Another part of his ritual that had developed to keep his mind sane and on the right path.

He made her a pot of tea, rather than a single mug. At least that way, she had enough for two. If she wanted any more, she’d have to go and get it herself. She was more than capable, even if she liked to pretend she wasn’t. He made the tea and set it on a tray along with her mug, some sugar and a little jug of milk. Rosie made up her water bottle, but it was William who took it in.

“I’ll not be a second,” William said to Rosie. He placed a kiss on her cheek before entering his mother’s room. And before he closed the door, he threw a wink to Rosie.

“Tea’s here,” he said to Maria. Maria was sitting on the tall chair by the window. Her walker was beside her. She had the television turned on, and the moment he spoke, she increased the volume to her usual ear blasting levels.

William winced at the assault on his hearing. “Is this you not speaking to me, then?”

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