Page 54 of Milo
“What?”
He nods happily. “You did us such a favour with Cora and it’s been so hectic lately and you’ve worked so hard.”
“Why now?”
“Milo, I think you’ve got about three years of holidays stored up. You never stop.” He looks at me. “We just think that maybe you should slow down for a week and it’ll refresh your brain.”
“Is it because I’m fucking Niall? I have to have a holiday because of that?”
“I personally would recommend a stay in a lunatic asylum, but that’s just me,” he says pertly, and my lips twitch. Taking that for the sign of encouragement it will undoubtedly turn out to be, he presses on. “We’ve actually given the two of you the same week off. What a coincidence. I can’timaginehow that happened. Maybe the two of you could go away together.”
“Oh my God,” I sigh, resting my head in my hands. I look up at him through my hair. “You’re giving us both a week off and expect us to go away together. How does that even work? Are you forcing him to take me away for romance and drinks by the sea?” I pause. “How would you even do that?”
He blinks. “It’s a week’s holiday, notThe Love Boat.” He smirks. “We’re giving you a week off at the same time. Whether you go away together is nothing to do with us.” He looksaround as if making sure Silas has gone. “Nothing,” he whispers fervently and spoils it by winking at me.
“You look like you’ve got a squint,” I say gloomily. “It’ll never work out anyway. He won’t take a week off. He loves ploughing those fields too much.”
“Maybe he can plough your field. Maybe he’ll find out that he prefers seeding your crop if you actually go away for a week together.”
My mouth drops open. “I don’t think I’ve heard a sentence like that since my grandmother made me watchDale’s Supermarket Sweep.” I throw my napkin down. “I’m going to get back to my restoration. Because long-dead people in pictures are a lot less problematic than the living ones around here.”
I’m just heading out of the back door and dragging my coat on when I hear my name being called. I turn to find Mrs. Granger approaching with the figure of her five-year-old granddaughter, Molly, dancing around her.
“You okay?” I ask as she nears me. Her hair is dishevelled and her face is redder than when she bends over the ovens in the tea rooms.
“Oh, Milo, can I ask a huge favour?”
I smile at her. “Of course. What’s up?”
She looks down at my coat. “Are you going out?”
I wind a big red and black striped scarf around my neck. “Only over to Niall’s.” For some reason, I redden, and her eyes linger on my flushed cheeks but she doesn’t say anything. Seizing the reprieve I rush on, and I mean rush on. I actually babble. “Not because I want to see him. No,definitelynot. Ha! Because that would be ridiculous. No, it’s because of the pictures. I’ve got some pictures to restore. They’re over in his house because that’s where I’m working on them. Not because his house is so cosy. And not because I live with him. Good grief,as if I’d live with him.” Her eyebrow rises slowly and I come to a stop, sweating profusely. “Phew!” I mutter and her lip twitches.
“Well, that’s lovely,” she says bracingly. “Would it be possible for you to watch Molly for a bit?” I open my mouth and she rushes into speech before I can say no. “It would only be for an hour. She stayed with me last night and her mum’s car has broken down and it’ll be an hour before she can get here. I’d keep her with me but the man’s coming to repair the big oven today and I’ve got to grab him while he’s around. He’s so difficult to get hold of.” She looks down at Molly who is doing a headstand against the wall. “She won’t be any trouble,” she adds rather doubtfully.
I smile. “Of course, it’s fine. I’ll keep her down there with me. She can colour or something.”
“Oh, thank you, Milo. You’re such a good boy.”
She thrusts a small purple rucksack at me before I can change my mind and backs away. Calling to Molly to follow me, I wave goodbye. We’re a few steps away when Mrs. Granger calls me. I turn back.
“Niall eh, Milo? I must say I approve. Big handsome lad you’ve got there.” She winks and laughs, rushing off and leaving me open-mouthed.
I look down at Molly, who is trying to let go of my hand subtly, then I look over at the field of sheep she’s eyeing. “Nope,” I say cheerfully. “You can run free in the woods, not amongst the poor old sheep.”
She comes along with me happily, chattering about school and friends. She’s a lovely little girl, smart and happy, and I let her chatter fill my head so I don’t have to think about where Niall had gone this morning. My first thought is work, but he’s never raced off like that before. He loves morning sex, so it’s a fact that he’s always slow to leave the bed.
Molly dances off to tunnel her way through the fallen leaves. Her boots make a crackly noise in the red and gold carpet and I smile at her as she throws handfuls into the air. The morning is crisp and cold with a watery pale gold sun trying valiantly to hold the frosty chill back a bit longer. My breaths make clouds in the air and I inhale the scent of the woods –earth and leaves and a cold autumn smell.
It improves my mood so that I’m smiling when I emerge out of the wood ahead of Molly and stand on the drive in front of Niall’s house. I’m acutely aware of that smile dropping from my face as I stand and look up at the figures of Niall and Gideon on the balcony that runs off Niall’s bedroom.
Gideon is barefoot and in pyjama pants and a black t-shirt and Niall is in just a pair of shorts with wet hair. They’re holding cups of coffee and standing very close to each other laughing. I stare up at them, feeling like I’ve been punched in the throat. Then I turn and wheel back the way I came.
Niall
I stand on the balcony of the house, sipping coffee and watching the leaves flutter down from the trees and onto the gravelled drive. It’s a very cold morning with the mist still clinging to the branches of the trees, but I feel a smile on my face that has nothing to do with the weather and everything to do with the man I left this morning burrowed under the covers like a very small mole seeking shelter.
I hear a step behind me and when I turn, Gideon is standing there. His eyes are still hazy with sleep but the coffee he’s sipping is rapidly clearing away the cobwebs. My smile falters slightly and I immediately bolster it, but the quirk to his lips tells me I didn’t cover it enough. However, staying true to his enigmatic personality, he just smiles and comes to stand next to me.
