Page 43 of The Secret Life of Beatrice Alright

I’m walking towards the bathroom when Cora calls me.

‘Bea,’

I turn round. ‘Mm-hmm.’

‘Everything is going to be all right, you know.’

I smile. Cora keeps saying that, and I wonder if it’s me or her she is trying to convince. ‘Yeah,’ I say. ‘I think so.’

FIFTEEN

‘So, what do you think? It’s the best Indian, isn’t it?’ Cora asks, as I fork the last bite of chicken butter masala from my plate into my mouth.

‘Mmm,’ I say, chewing. ‘So good.’

‘It’s yucky,’ Ellie complains.

She has pushed the food around her plate for fifteen minutes and I can see even Cora’s boundless patience wavering.

‘Looks like puke,’ Ellie goes on.

‘Ellie.’ I snap her name, warning her to mind her manners.

‘It’s okay,’ Cora tells her. ‘If you don’t like it, you can just leave it. I have some popcorn in the cupboard. How about that instead?’

Ellie agrees to the compromise. Cora puts some cartoons on Netflix and settles her on the couch with a small bowl of microwave popcorn. She places the remainder of the popcorn in a larger bowl on the oval, whitewashed kitchen table between us and tells me to help myself. She opens the wine and conversation flows effortlessly. For all of about five minutes, until Ellie is too hot. Too bored. Too stuffed. Too anything except calm and sleepy the way she would normally be at this hour of the evening. I find myself apologising.

‘She had a nap on the bus,’ I say.

Cora nods. ‘Bus naps are the best, to be fair. I’m sure she’ll tire herself out eventually.’

Cora is right and Ellie finally grows sleepy, but not until it’s bedtime for Cora and me too.

‘I’m so sorry about tonight,’ I say, looking at the bottle of wine that is still more than half full. ‘I know you really wanted a girly night.’

‘Pfft, there’ll be plenty of girly nights,’ Cora says with a wave of her hand. ‘She’s probably just excited to be in a new place. That’s all.’

‘Yeah.’ I agree, and I will make sure Ellie doesn’t fall asleep on the bus on the way home ever again. I’ll play an hour of I-Spy with her every evening if I have to.

‘Well, good night,’ Cora says, yawning. ‘Help yourself to some orange juice or toast or whatever in the morning, if you’re up before me. And I got some Coco Pops for Ellie. I know they’re her favourite.’

My eyes tear up. I’m so grateful I have a friend like Cora. ‘It’s cos they make the milk?—’

‘—go chocolatey,’ she cuts in, singing the theme tune from the TV ad.

‘Thank you,’ I mouth, too teary to push words out.

‘No problem. Na’night.’

Cora retreats to her bedroom and closes the door behind her. It’s strange when Ellie and I are alone. Ellie has napped on Cora’s couch plenty of times, usually when Cora and I lose track of time chatting over tea or wine. But Ellie isn’t just napping now. The couch is her bed. My bed. A space where we can rest but we don’t truly belong. My blue and red striped Tesco shopping bags, stuffed under the coffee table, stand out garishly against the Alaskan chic décor. Overthinking and overtired, I duck my head into the first bag and rummage around until I findmy toothbrush. Then I wash up quickly and try to get comfy on the couch beside Ellie. The cosy two-seater is too compact for an adult to stretch out completely and my ankles and feet hang over the edge. I lie on my side, lining myself up the couch edge, in a balancing act of not falling off or rolling in and squashing Ellie. Then I cover us both with the blanket, and I’m asleep the second my eyes close.

My eyes fly open again when I hear ‘Ouch, fuck,’ grunted from somewhere.

I lean up and peek over the back of the couch, my eyes taking a moment to adjust to the darkness.

Finton is standing between the couch and the kitchen area in his boxers. He’s hopping on one foot and his other foot is in his hand.

‘Bloody Lego,’ he hisses.

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