I was listening to Rose chatter about Addy, who was fast becoming her best friend, and how she was scared of woodlice. This led to a whole conversation about insects and creatures that had exoskeletons, which then led on to skeletons in general.
Midway through an explanation about joints, I felt a warm wetness between my legs. Nothing gushing, nothing that suggested imminent danger, but a nice – cue sarcasm – reminder that I was still of child-bearing years and had paid no attention to my cycle because there wasn’t much reason to keep track.
I stopped walking and took my hand out of Rose’s, rummaging through my bag for tampons.
None were there.
“We just need to pop into a shop, Sweets.” I smiled at her, wishing I could wave a wand so she never had to go through any of this.
She nodded, clearly in a good mood and I crossed us over the road to the mini-supermarket, aware that the couple of minutes that we’d lost through breakfast was going to be added to.
We were now on the topic of spiders and how they weren’t insects when I located the aisle with the sanitary products. I picked up a box I knew would do until I could get my preferred brand – it was something I was fussy about – when a familiar voice sounded from the bottom of the aisle.
Seph.
He was stood with the woman from the café that most of Callaghan Green was fed by, his arm around her shoulders and they were both laughing. I hadn’t realised they were seeing each other; we still hadn’t gotten around to sharing anything personal.
The thumping in my chest was probably audible to anyone standing close by and I felt lightheaded. I was standing open mouthed holding a box of sanitary products with my daughter who no one at work knew about, while the highly attractive man who was technically my boss stood about ten feet away. And to make things just a tad worse, my period might just have gotten a little heavier.
Later, when I had a big glass of wine in my hand, I would find this funny. Right now, I wanted to squeeze into the gap on the bottom shelf where we were standing and hide.
“Mummy, there’s the dog food. I wonder which Bramble would like best.”
It was the perfect opportunity to kneel down and practice reading some words with Rose, keeping our backs towards Seph. Bramble was the name she’d given the imaginary dog that she’d promised would one day become a reality. I’d gone along with it, keeping to the exact same rules I’d given her the other night.
“What does this say? Can you read it?” I pointed to the slogan on the pack of dog food.
My clever girl started to sound out the first word, segmenting and blending the phonemes until she knew she’d said it correctly and recognised the word. The rest of the sentence was a doddle and by the time we’d read a couple of other bits, I’d spied Seph leaving the store.
“Let’s pay up and get you to Elspeth’s. She’ll be wondering where you are.”
Rose nodded, clearly not listening. “Do you think Bramble would need a dog friend?”
Holy fuck.
What time could I pour that wine?
“Morning!”
Seph sounded almost too cheerful, but then if he’d spent the night getting laid by the gorgeous café owner, he was going to be happy.
I would be.
I missed sex. Missed the feel of man’s hands, the way he would touch and stroke and pinch and soothe. Missed dirty words and the feel of lips on skin.
It wasn’t that I’d sworn off sex; I hadn’t. Giving birth was traumatic, but things had kind of gotten back to normal, or rather, everything physical had.
Dating hadn’t happened. There was work and there was Rose. My mother and Olivia would babysit but I couldn’t bring a man back, and I didn’t want to go back to his in case he was a serial killer and I left my daughter motherless. Every man I considered dating seriously meant I needed to explain to him I had a daughter, and given I was a young mum for someone in my profession, most men I considered dating weren’t interested in getting serious with someone with a child.
“Morning.” I tried to be chipper, but the morning hadn’t been amazing, really. “Did you hear back from David Hartford?”
He looked puzzled, tilting his head to one side. “I could’ve sworn I saw you in the shop on Fulton Road this morning. With a little girl.”
My heart started to race. “Wasn’t me.”
As soon as I said the words I turned away, looking out of the window to the street that we overlooked from our first-floor office. The lie had almost choked me, and I didn’t know why I hadn’t used the opportunity to tell him the truth.
I did know.
