‘Neil,’ Callie began, intending to explain. Well, notexplain, but make up some reason he couldn’t drag her in there.
But Neil was already smiling as if she’d agreed. ‘Brilliant. I’ll get it scheduled.’
Four
‘Well, that was something,’ Christine said, after the crew had finally finished packing up and buggered off to a hotel for the night. ‘I don’t think the house has ever been that brightly lit. I bet I looked a hundred years old.’
‘You looked fine,’ Callie said sincerely, looking her mother over.
The thick head of caramel hair, the bee-stung lips, the olive skin that kept her looking ten years younger… If anything positive could be said of her mother, it was that she was a looker. Always had been, and if her fifties were anything to go by, always would be. It was only a shitty personality that had held her back in life.
Despite the conflicted feelings Callie had when she looked in the mirror and saw strong echoes of her mother, she knew those looks had paid her bills.
‘They said they’d stick to the kitchen. They were everywhere,’ Christine complained.
‘I should have gotten a haircut,’ her stepdad, Brian, muttered from the table. ‘I’m gonna look like a gorilla on TV.’
‘If you’d gotten a haircut, your bald spot would have been harder to cover,’ Christine said casually.
‘I’ve got a bald spot?’ Brian said, horrified.
‘Not if you keep your hair longer,’ Christine replied pleasantly.
Brian seemed unsure how to respond to that.
Callie looked around the kitchen to avoid catching Brian’s eye amid his embarrassment. The house still looked the same—the same wallpaper, same faint coffee rings on the table—but it wasn’t hers anymore. It belonged tothem. Her mother and Brian had filled it with their routines, their noise, their new daughter.
‘Where’s Hannah?’ Callie asked.
‘Upstairs,’ Christine said, glancing at the ceiling. ‘Pretending to do homework but probably texting her friends about today. She’s excited. Can’t believe she’s going to be on telly.’
‘It’s only background stuff,’ Callie said.
‘She doesn’t care. She thinks you’re famous.’
Callie laughed softly. ‘That makes one of us.’
Christine’s smile faltered. ‘You are, though. You’ve done well. We’re proud of you.’
Brian nodded as his inclusion, but it was a soft nod. The nod of a man who wants to say,Bit weird for me to say that, but I’m not averse to being proud of you at a later date if we get to know each other.
‘Thanks,’ Callie said awkwardly.
The kettle clicked off. Christine poured tea for everyone.
‘What’s wrong with the bakery?’ Brian asked, slipping his hands around a hot mug.
‘What?’
‘Earlier,’ Brian said. ‘That Neil bloke said something about the bakery, and you didn’t seem keen.’
‘Nothing’s wrong with it,’ Callie said far too quickly.
‘Your mother mentioned that you were friends with the girl who runs it. Is there bad blood or…’
‘I’ll make up your room,’ Christine said quickly.
‘It’s still my room?’ Callie asked, puzzled.
