‘Fine, all fine over here.’ Eleanor smiled, trying to hide the frustration. She was sure Reggie had been about to tell her something important before Agatha’s abrupt interruption.
‘Good, good,’ she chirped. ‘As long as this fellow over here isn’t distracting you too much.’ She turned to Reggie. ‘How are you getting on?’
‘Aggie.’ Reggie smirked. ‘Everything is wonderful.’
‘Now, hold on a second.’ Agatha frowned exaggeratedly. ‘What have I told you about calling me that. Nobody calls me that apart from my mother! You’re terrible at times, you know that, Reggie?’ She beamed affectionately. ‘Isn’t he terrible, Eleanor?’
Eleanor nodded in agreement. ‘Theworst.’
‘All right, enough with the insults, thank you,’ Reggie puffed. ‘Now, is this an art class or what? Some of us want to do some proper painting.’ He shot Eleanor a look out of the corner of his eye. ‘So, leave me alone and let me get on with it, will you?’
‘There we go. That’s the dedication we like to see!’ Agatha punched the air proudly, moving around the circle to inspect another work of art.
Eleanor picked up her pencil and closed her eyes, bringing Eileen’s face into view. She wanted to paint her as the woman she knew growing up. The lady who was full of life and joy, and who would sneak her and Fin sweets when his dad wasn’t looking. She wanted Fin to have a piece of that Eileen to remember, because she knew how easy it was to forget when you had to be the one to bury them.
‘I’m so sorry about your friend,’ she whispered, opening her eyes and beginning to sketch.
‘Thank you,’ Reggie replied. ‘Me too.’
*
Eleanor had left the class feeling energized and excited. As lovely as it would have been to have a portrait of her dad, her new idea felt much more important to paint. At least it could be something for Fin to take back with him when he left. A little piece of London life all the way across the ocean in LA.
Her heart sank at the thought of him leaving. His arrival back into her life had been unexpected and at first, she thought, unwanted. Now, though, she quite liked the idea of having him around for longer. It definitely wasn’t the same as before but it was certainly a friendship.
What part would you call a friendship exactly?
The part when you were ignoring him or when you were drunkenly kissing him?
The memory of the kiss suddenly hit her. Fin’s lips on hers. His arms around her waist, holding her closer to his body.
No.
You were drunk. It didn’t mean anything.
She pulled her jacket round her and turned the corner into her street. As she got closer to her flat, Eleanor could see someone standing outside her front door. She narrowed her eyes to try and bring the person into focus, but it was no use. It was too dark and she was too far away.
It’s fine.
They’ll leave in a minute.
But they didn’t. They stayed. The shadowy figure was pacing up and down her porch.
Stay calm.
If in doubt, walk straight past.
She quickly pulled her hood up over her head and began to pick up her pace. Tucking her hands into her pockets she tried to slow her breathing, but it seemed to keep catching in her chest. As she approached, she noticed the person had crouched down on to the step, their back facing away from her.
What the hell are they doing?
She opened the front gate and almost jumped out of her skin when the person stood up and turned to face her.
‘Eleanor!’ he cried.
‘Oliver?’ Eleanor blinked, unable to process the fact that her ex-boyfriend was standing outside her front door.
It’s technically his front door too.
