‘Hey, Liv, sweetie,’ she said. ‘The electricity in my shed isn’t working. I have to vlog in here today.’ She pointed both index fingers at her face. ‘I have to gush about dermaplaning while suffering from a migraine.’ She said it as if she had to address the United Nations about world peace and had lost her voice.
‘What’s dermaplaning?’ Liv said.
‘It’s a beauty treatment. A dermatologist uses a scalpel to scrape away the top layer of skin and the peach fuzz. It helps to…’ Hannah stopped and fixed her eyes on Liv’s complexion. ‘Oh, it doesn’t matter. It’s kind of a premium treatment.’
Liv’s head felt floaty from the insult. She wanted to tell Hannah she was leaving but the woman was busy swallowing down herbal headache tablets with a glass of San Pellegrino. ‘Do you want me to clean today, or look after your children?’ she said stiffly.
‘Just do both, okay, sweetie. Walt and I will be busy bees all day.’
Liv glowered as she cleaned the dual black marble sinks and heated mirrors in the bathroom. In their bedroom, Tarkers and Jules had pulled out a suitcase full of old clothes and played a game, mimicking their parents.
‘Walt, sweetie,’ Jules said, wearing a Victoria Beckham dress with her hand on her hip.‘I said dark chocolate with an eighty per cent cocoa content, not fifty.’
Liv pressed her lips together and tried not to laugh. She sprayed the shower tiles and wiped them down.
‘Sorry, darling,’ Tarkers said. ‘It’s not my mistake, I was busy with my therapist.’
‘Well, who got it wrong?’ Jules let out a shuddering sigh. ‘Probably Liv. She knows nothing about quality. I should take it out of her wages.’
‘No, you can’t do that. How will she afford her abominable T-shirts?’
Liv gripped her cleaning cloth. She swallowed away a sour taste that appeared at the back of her mouth. The children were probably only repeating what they’d heard from their parents. She shoved all her cleaning things back in their box, dumped it in the bath and headed into their bedroom.
‘Hey, Tarkers, Jules. Your mummy and daddy are busy all day. Again. Why don’t you give them a nice surprise?’ she said.
The kids looked at each other. Jules peeled off the VB dress and kicked it off the end of her foot.
Liv smiled and left it lying on the floor. ‘I’m sure I overheard your mother saying she’d love some of your super handprints decorating her bedroom wall.’
Jules folded her arms and her rosebud mouth pouted. ‘We’re not allowed to dothat.’
Tarkers dug her in the waist with his elbow. ‘It’s artistic freedom,’ he said solemnly, but had a wicked glint in his eye.
‘The paint is in the cupboard,’ Liv said. She picked up her handbag, and took out her packed lunch. ‘I’m leaving, so you can share my sandwiches,crisps and chocolate bar if you like? Sorry, they’re not that healthy, or organic.’
The children’s eyes widened with delight.
‘Are you going to the post office?’ Jules said. ‘I got a Barbie for my birthday and Mummy says I have to sell it because it objectifies women.’
‘No, I’m not going. Not any longer.’ Liv pressed her hand briefly to the young girl’s cheek, and performed a fist bump with Tarkers. ‘I’m sorry, but I probably won’t see you two again. I need my artistic freedom, too.’
Chapter 11
Waterfall
Trying to untangle Essie’s manuscript was like unknotting a huge ball of wet wool. Liv was glad it was now her only job, although she still felt like an imposter working at Essie’s desk. It was four weeks since the author died and Liv half expected her ghost to appear and say, ‘What on earth are you doing in my chair, Olivia?’
Liv soon developed a squint from staring at the laptop screen for too long and a painful crick in her neck from trying to interpret and type up Essie’s writing. Did that word sayoctopusoraudacious? Did the author meanprogressorprocess? A place name beginning withMand a squiggle could be Mississippi, Massachusetts or Michigan.
Liv took a stab, inserting words at random and underlining them. When she reread her paragraphs, many of them didn’t make sense.
Georgia raced across the citytorrentialthe railway station, darting around cars andbluffinginto strangers. Themangotrain was about to leave and she had to get on board,or else she’d never see him again. The train wheelsscatteredas they began to turn. ‘Miss, it’s already left,’ a guard shouted. But Georgia ran on,sensuallyrunning alongside it. She managed to grab ahandful, and hoisted herself inside through an open door.
Liv looked to Essie’s other novels for guidance, even copying and rewriting a few sentences, anything to keep things moving. It wasn’t proper writing, but she wasn’t a proper writer.
Georgia’s ultimate hero remained frustratingly out of reach, even when Liv studied the photos of Ted, Hank and the tattooed blond man again. She opened the green cufflink box and set it down in front of her, but no inspiration came through.
She tried to work on the manuscript at home in the evening, too, but there was always some kind of backing track going on. Johnny’s music thumped and Jake’s voice droned from the coat cupboard as he discussed the costs of a new printing press with Katrina. Liv couldn’t seem to find the right moment to tell him about her new role.
