“Hello, Max,” Trisha greeted me. She was sitting on the soft armchair, magazine in one hand, cup of tea in the other and a Tupperware box filled with pasta and salad perched on her knees.
“Hey, how’re you today?” I asked, smiling at Becca who gave me a friendly wave. She was busy cooking something in the microwave.
“A lot better than I was yesterday I can tell you that,” Trisha laughed loudly. I smirked, remembering just how drunk she had been at New Years. “I was just telling Becca that I can’t remember half of what happened – just that I knew I’d had a good time.”
“That’s the whole point, isn’t it?” I grinned, setting my bag down next to Becca’s and heading to the instant hot drinks machine. I dug around in my pocket for some change and began carefully feeding the coins into the machine. I pressed the button for a coffee and waited for the machine to finish filling the flimsy plastic cup.
“Oh, definitely,” Trisha replied, taking a noisy slurp of her tea. “Where’s Rowan? Is he joining us today?”
“He’ll be down shortly.” I sat at the lunch table and stirred my drink before taking a cautious sip from the cup. The microwave pinged and Becca hurried to sit beside me, steam billowing up from the ready meal in her hands. “What’s for lunch today?” I asked her, craning to get a look.
“It’s just tomato and basil pasta. Looks yummy, but it’s going to be too much for me. Do you want to share?”
“Sure, sounds nice.” I nodded and got to my feet. I grabbed a chipped bowl from a cupboard and placed it down for Becca to spoon some of her pasta out into it.
Loud footsteps echoed down the stairs and Trisha looked up from her magazine. “That’ll be John and Rowan I expect.” I ran a hand through my hair self-consciously, catching a little knowing smile from Becca.
“—that’s what I said, but she didn’t believe me.” John walked into the room first, halfway through a loud conversation. Rowan followed swiftly behind.
“No, well, mothers don’t ever listen when it comes to their kids, do they?” Rowan grinned, glancing at me briefly before turning his attention back to John. The older man sat down heavily, sighing, and Rowan walked over to a cupboard to grab a mug.
“Did everyone havefunat New Years?” John chuckled. “I know the usual suspects were embarrassingly drunk again.” He looked at Trisha pointedly. I took my seat next to Becca.
“I don’t know why you’re looking at me, you cheeky bugger!” Trisha hit John playfully with her magazine. “You’re worse than I am.”
Their playful banter continued as I scooted forward to eat my food. I glanced around the table before realising there was something missing.
“Oh bollocks, I forgot a fork,” I muttered, getting back up.
“It’s alright, I’ll get one,” Rowan said, turning to smile at me. “I’m already over here.”
“Oh, uh, thanks,” I replied awkwardly, sitting back down in my chair. Rowan opened a drawer quickly and leant over the table, mug in one hand, fork in the other. I took it from him, holding his gaze a little longer than necessary.
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” Rowan turned away and sat down on the opposite side of the table, next to John.
“So, Rowan...” Trisha began, sitting forwards eagerly and turning around to look over at us from the sofa.
“Oh no, what have I done now?” Rowan replied, grinning before taking a tentative sip of his coffee.
“Well, a little bird tells me that someone was a dirty stop out on the weekend?” Trisha chortled and I felt as if my heart had stopped. Although Rowan managed to keep his composure, I saw a flicker of something uncomfortable in his expression. “Came rolling in at seven in the morning, I hear?”
Becca risked a subtle glance at me, but I kept my head down and focused on the food in front of me.
“Oh dear, you were in a bad way then, lad?” John laughed. “That’s not like you.”
Rowan laughed, but I knew it was forced. “I wasn’t feeling too clever the day after, that’s for sure.”
“Did you just stay over at Max’s?” Trisha asked.
“Where else would he have stayed, Trish?” Becca pitched in, her sarcasm diffusing the strange atmosphere a little. Before anyone had the chance to say anything more, there was a loud buzzing noise.
“Oh, that’s me,” Rowan muttered, standing up to get his phone out of his pocket. I fought to hide a small, secretive smile, knowing that was the same phone he had text me from. I wondered if he still had the messages saved somewhere. I couldn’t see the screen from where I sat, but watched his face fall a little as he looked down at the phone in his hand. “I’ll be back shortly,” he announced to the rest of the room before swiftly leaving.
We listened to Rowan’s footsteps hurrying up the stairs and there was a moment of silence before Trisha spoke.
“That’ll be Christina, no doubt,” she mumbled quietly. Everyone was very much subdued now – the friendly banter dead under the crushing weight of this new atmosphere.
