Unsuitable (20 page)

16:     Certain

Mia’s
nightmares started when Audrey thought the worst of her separation anxiety was
over. She still had her own bad dreams nightly, dreams where she thought she
was late for an important event, never arriving on time and in terrible trouble
because of it. She woke to the sound of her own distress, heart pounding, as if
she’d been running for her life.

Mia
woke screaming and kicking, terrified. Horrible monsters with terrible faces were
taking her away. She would shake and cry herself to sleep in Audrey’s arms.

The
first night it happened was the night Audrey dragged Reece inside the fairy
palace. She meant to do unspeakably degenerate things to him inside that pretty
tent he’d built. She hadn’t counted on the effect attempting it would have.

She’d
gone to him for the comfort of his touch, to celebrate being alive. She’d gone
to him full of rationalisations and denials. It was two consenting adults
fooling around. He was a more than a willing accomplice. She was a mother not a
nun. And she wasn’t dead. And no one needed to know. But ten minutes in the
tent with the pillows and the pink light, with the stuffed animals watching and
the scent of lavender fabric softener, and she knew which one of them had their
head screwed on.

Reece
was so much more than she expected. He’d given her the control, but he had all
the power, and he demolished her self-justification before he took her shirt
off. This was more than proximity to easy sex. This was more than gratitude.

She’d
have given him anything he wanted to take under those fairy lights, but he took
nothing she wasn’t ready for. And he knew she wasn’t ready, hadn’t thought it
through, wasn’t well enough for sex before she did. He kept her mostly dressed,
he kissed her quiet, he soothed her almost to sleep and then Mia screamed.

This
was the sixth night in a row since then that Mia had woken screaming and Reece carried
her into Audrey’s bed. The sixth night she’d tumbled into Audrey’s arms, her
face pinched and wet, her little chest heaving.

Reece
resettled the covers over them and turned to go. She caught his arm. He was a
shadow in the dark. Mia’s breathing was already steadying. “Stay.”

All
week they’d stolen time to kiss and touch, a maddening mid-teen courtship, as
much for its hint of illicitness as it was for its innocence. Reece kept
withdrawing, not exactly pulling away and never rejecting her, but not letting
things go too far.

She’d
had headaches and the pins and needles and he worried she was too thin, while
she worried about what was happening at work while she wasn’t there. They’d
split up her projects, spread out the work. Would they still need her by the
time she was well enough to return? It would be like starting again after
maternity leave.

He
knew that stressed her. He mothered her, making her eat and rest and helping
her forget with kisses that were brands seared onto her lips, so hot they left
scorch marks on her heart.

She’d
never felt so sexually frustrated before. Abstinence had been a cupcake
compared to this constant state of anticipation. Not that he was faring any
easier. He was running at night after they’d settled Mia, partly to be out of
the house, partly to slake his own tension. He’d come back late, lathered in
sweat, smelling impossibly earthy and he’d look at her like he was scared he’d
foul her by coming near. They’d go to bed in their separate rooms early,
knowing Mia would likely wake them.

She
could’ve changed the tempo if she’d pushed him; he wasn’t resisting to be cute.
The wounded animal sounds he made when he broke away, dropped his hands from
her, rivalled Mia’s best growling bear and lion roar. There was no mistaking he
wanted her or that he was waiting for her to push the point. So why didn’t she
act, nail him to the kitchen table, reverse him up against the fridge and pin him
there till the rattling condiments ratted them out? She could hijack him in the
shower. She could grope him in the garden. She could go to him in his room at
night and stay there till Mia woke.

Mia.
Of course, Mia. She was six foot of wonder, ten lengths of watchfulness, a
galaxy of impressions being formed like stars. They let her see their
affection, the easy, casual touches and kisses, the act of being loving, but
she was also the hard line drawn, the non-compete clause. Neither of them would
do anything to unsettle her.

But
Mia was an easy out and Audrey had spent a week taking it. Reece was an easy
mark and she was playing with his affections. This wasn’t her finest moment.

Now
in the dark, Reece put his hand over hers. If he hadn’t been carrying Mia, he’d
never have entered Audrey’s room while she was there. It was a hard rule he’d
written himself. “You okay?” he whispered.

“I
had a bad dream too. Maybe if I tell you about it, I won’t have it any more.” Maybe
if she stopped having her dream Mia would settle too. That was a daft,
superstitious notion, but her own recurring nightmare was sticky and without
being the least bit scary, no monsters, no blood or guts, it still succeeded in
terrorising her, and she was tired of being hesitant and unsure.

“Won’t
we wake her?”

“I
used to take conference calls with London and New York from bed with her beside
me. She slept though everything. She’ll be fine.” But Reece was clearly uncomfortable.
“Don’t worry. I’m keeping you from—”

He
put his knee on the bed. “Shove over.”

Mia
had half of the bed and a pillow to herself and was sleeping again. Audrey turned
on her side and wriggled closer to Mia. Reece sat beside her, his back against
the headboard. She was inside the sheet and blanket, he was out. He wore track
pants and a t-shirt but he would get cold.

“You
need to come under the blanket.”

“I
can’t do that.”

“You’ll
get cold.”

“You’ll
get spooned.”

She
smiled into the dark. “I’m absolutely fine with that.”

His
warmth as he slid under the blanket was like the sun rising on her back. He
kept the sheet between them, but manoeuvred them into an approximation of
teaspoon nestled against a serving spoon. His arm around her chased the night
terrors away. “What do you dream about?” His voice so soft, so close to her ear
made her shiver.

“I
suppose I’m dreaming about death.”

His
arm tightened around her waist. “How long has this been going on?”

“Since
I got home.”

“And
you never mentioned it.”

“By
the time I’ve slept again I can hardly remember what it’s about and I can’t
summon the dread once the sun’s up.” He brushed hair away and kissed the back
of her neck, it put goose bumps all over her. She put her hand over his. “It’s
usually a repeat pattern. I’m always running late and I never arrive and I let
everyone down. People stand around and I should be there and I’m missing, just
missing.” She shuddered, the dream was always filmy and grey, it was always
raining. “I’m worried about going back to work. I’m worried about this having a
lasting effect on Mia.”

Reece
stroked her hair. “I don’t have any wisdom for you. I wish I did.”

“I’m
not going to die.” That was the problem; she kept thinking about how close an
escape she’d had.

He
tugged her closer. “Not till you’re old and wrinkly.”

“I
am going to have to fight to get my place back at work.”

“I’ll
do whatever I can to help.” And he would, she had no doubt about that. In
theory they should’ve set a date for him to move out, but she’d let that drift
and he’d let her.

“Mia
is going to get to sixteen and hate my guts in the normal mother daughter way.”

“Etta
could give her lessons.”

Audrey
hugged Reece’s arm tighter. “Thank you.”

He
twisted a strand of her hair around his finger. “I didn’t do anything.”

“You’ve
interrupted your whole life for Mia and me. You’re sleeping in someone else’s
house, when you get to sleep, that is. You’re doing all kinds of chores that
aren’t part of your job. I would be lost without you.”

In
her dream there was always a figure standing in the shadows. She knew she had
to get to that figure, indistinct but critically important. It stood steady, never
moved, but though she rushed, and fought and tried different approaches, she never
got any closer. She was blocked and waylaid and lost sight of where she was
going; she was rushing and late and sick with worry.

She’d
spent weeks thinking the shadowy figure was a metaphor for work, but what if it
wasn’t? What if that figure was Reece and the reasons she didn’t want him to go
were more profound than she’d expected?

His
breathing was deep. The fingers in her hair had stilled. He was falling asleep.
“Reece?”

He
shook himself and withdrew his arm. “What?”

She
could sleep now too.

He
rolled out of the bed. “See you in the morning.” He went to his room and in the
morning his laughter woke her. She bundled into her dressing gown and padded
out to the kitchen. She’d been self-conscious about Reece seeing her looking so
tragic in the hospital, and so mumsy and unglamorous now, but he’d never looked
at her any differently, and it wasn’t like she needed to impress him.

He
was dressed but he hadn’t shaved and Mia had discovered whiskers for the first
time. And Audrey discovered a new reason to look at Reece, to want to lock him
in the house and keep him. The stubble made him look rougher, darker,
altogether more dangerous. His unshaven face fitted his size in a way that
reminded her of it. She’d gotten used to the giant of him. The potential damage
of him was thoroughly neutralised by the way he carried himself so carefully,
but with that darkness on his jaw, around his mouth, she could imagine him as
more intimidating.

“They
grow in the night?” Mia shrieked with laugher. “What happens if you don’t take
them off?”

Reece
leant down so she could touch his face. “I’ll look like Santa.”

Mia
shrieked again, almost falling off her stool. He’d look like a man to avoid in
a shady alley, a man who made her heart beat much too fast under her daggy
fleece dressing gown.

“I
can sit on your knee and ask for presents,” said Mia.

Reece,
ho, ho, hoed, and standing in the sunny kitchen listening to Mia giggle, it was
easy to believe everything would be all right, despite screaming in the night, and
very hard not to think about contriving a way to sit on Reece’s knee herself.

Of
course that couldn’t happen. Reece and Mia had plans, a big day, lots to do and
Audrey was seeing Les for a brief catch up on work, but now she wished she’d
let that go for another day and tagged along with Sexy Santa and his Helper.

The
house was desperately quiet when they left. She dressed and wandered around at
a loose end and was grateful Les was early. And brought pastries.

“You’re
still too way-heyhey too skinny, Aud. But you look better.”

Les
looked different too, was it the suit, had she lost weight? “Have you changed
your hair?” A safe query.

“I’ve,
um. No.”

She’d
done something. Audrey let it go and made a pot of tea to go with the Portuguese
tarts. They talked Audrey’s health, her projected return to work date and then
Les put the ticking bomb that could blow up Audrey’s career on the table.

“They’re
making cutbacks.”

“Oh.
But from the executive ranks?”

“Mostly
from the executive ranks. That gets rid of the more expensive people.”

“How
do you know this?”

“I
snooped.” Les slumped. “I’m naughty. I shouldn’t have done it and no one knows
except you. But what gets left under the lid of the photocopier nearest the
CEO’s office is fair game. They were lucky it was me, not some gossip.”

“When
does this happen?”

“Sometime
this month, at a guess.”

Audrey’s
turn to slump. There was nothing she could do about it. If she’d been earmarked
for retrenchment the decision would’ve been made well before now and Dr Barber
was insistent she didn’t return to work before she was one hundred percent
well. There was a real risk she’d have no job to go back to when that day
arrived.

“My
name would have to be on that list. I don’t have an active work portfolio. My
team all report to someone else. I left behind a problem with suppliers. I made
it easy for them to get rid of me.”

Les
looked miserable, her work area wasn’t threatened; as a commercial lawyer she
was a specialist. “You can’t think like that.”

But
they both knew it was smart to. They both ate a second tart. Audrey tried not
to think about the mortgage, about the expenses not covered by her health
insurance and her extended sick leave. She had savings, but it would take a
while to get a new job at her level. It could take twelve months. If it took
longer she’d have to sell the house, she’d have to down size before that. It
would no longer be a matter of when Reece stopped sleeping over at night, but
when she let him go, because if she wasn’t working she could care for Mia
herself and save his salary.