Page 107 of The Secret Life of Beatrice Alright

‘There’s bikkies in the fridge,’ he tells Ellie.

‘It’s okay,’ I tell her when she has trouble letting me go. ‘You can take some.’

Ellie clings to my leg and shakes her head. John makes two cups of tea and places them on a small round table that wobbles when you press on it. We sit, and I take Ellie on my knee.

‘I’m so glad you’re okay,’ I tell him as I wrap my hands round the cup and savour the warmth against my skin. ‘I tried to find you at the hospital but they said you’d gone to a shelter.’ I look around as if to say,here.

‘You checked on me,’ he says.

‘I work at the hospital. Or at least, I think I still do. I need to talk to my boss.’

He cocks his head.

‘She found out we’ve been sleeping in the storage closet at work.’

He snorts. ‘Oh fuck.’

‘Yes. Exactly.’

‘She’s not happy,’ he adds.

‘No. But she’s rarely happy.’

John and I chat for a while. He tells me he was married once, and has two adult kids. ‘About your age,’ he says, with a sigh. ‘Haven’t seen ’em since they were kiddos though. The wife couldn’t take me gambling any more and booted me out. Can’t say I blame her. Managed on me own for a while but the gambling got worse and worse and I lost everything in the end. Don’t even know where the wife and kids are living these days. Hard to believe, isn’t it?’

‘It’s easier to believe than you might think.’

Finally, Ellie feels brave enough to slide off my lap, and I relax ever so slightly as I watch her nervously tiptoe towards the fridge.

‘It’s okay, chickpea,’ I encourage her.

Her face lights up when she pulls a packet of Rich Tea biscuits from the fridge and bites into one. I’m finally smiling when I feel John’s hand on mine. I stop smiling instantly and flinch, and am about to pull away when his lips press against mine and I feel his tongue poke into my mouth. My gag reflex kicks in and I jump back, knocking over my chair. It hits the ground with a bang.

‘What?! No,’ I say, embarrassed and uncomfortable. Outraged and confused.

Ellie watches me, open-mouthed, a chewed-up biscuit in her mouth.

‘Sorry, what I mean is, I’m not looking for anything like this.’ I point to him and then to me. ‘I’m not interested.’

‘Hmm, yeah, that’s not exactly how it works around here,’ he says, dryly.

‘Sorry?’

‘God, stop apologising.’

‘Sorry,’ I say, again. I’m not actually apologising. I’m just so shocked it seems to be the only word slipping out of me right now.

‘Look, I’ll keep big Lizzie off your back, but I won’t do it for nothing, you know,’ he says, with a wink that makes my blood run cold.

‘You want me to kiss you?’

He snorts. It’s loud and ugly and I make a face, repulsed.

‘I’ll need a bit more than a kiss, love.’

Jesus.

‘Or’ — he scrunches his face — ‘I’ll let big Lizzie know you’d be happy to be friends with her, if you know what I mean.’

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