Knocked on Kirsten’s door at 8 a.m. She flung it open, hair in messy bun, wearing white shirt and denim shorts, fair skin spattered with extra freckles from summer sunshine.
Wondered how she always looks so energised, with all her commitments. ‘Hey.’
‘Hi.’ Slung canvas bag over shoulder. ‘I’ve made a flask of tea, and danishes.’
‘Thanks. Although, at this rate I’ll be ten feet wide.’
She grinned. ‘You’re not as skinny as you were, but there’s still a way to go.’
Rolled eyes. ‘Love how obvious you are about trying to fatten me up. Ready?’
‘Just waiting for Rosie’s taxi.’
‘Morning.’ Deep voice spoke behind me, and I startled. But just Harley in jeans and T-shirt, toolbox and van keys in hands. Habitual baseball cap on, but tetchiness in lines around eyes and mouth missing. Sweeping gaze over Kirsten’s loose shirt, knotted red hair and bare legs, he gulped. ‘Is Rosie ready to leave?’
‘Yep, she was up stupidly early.’ Rolled her eyes. ‘I shouldn’t have told her you were doing the school run.’
Something warm passed between them.
‘I can do pick-up too, if it helps. My schedule’s fluid.’
Looked back and forth between them. Where was tension and bickering of past few weeks? Huh. If they can get past their shit, perhaps can get through mine? Something inside me felt hopeful at notion.
‘Thanks,’ Kirsten stepped out into hallway, ‘I’ll text you. Maybe you can stop at a post-box today?’
‘We’ll see.’ He crossed threshold into her flat. ‘Have a good day.’
‘You too.’
There was a joyful yell as he swung the door shut. ‘Harllleeeyyyy, you’re here! Let me show you…’
Chatter of their muffled voices faded as we hustled along hallway, ready for a busy day in my cottage.
Sinking back on my heels with anurgh, wiped sweaty grime from face with bottom of T-shirt. Sorting through last of abandoned furniture and belongings upstairs took all morning, and we’d half-filled skip in front garden. The potential ‘keep’ pile was in corner of lounge, ready for Ethan to look over at some point for a refurbed goods council scheme for residents struggling financially.There’s a story in there, I thought, before shutting idea down.
Kirsten perched on a dusty faded armchair wearing pensive expression. I like her a lot; fun, caring, and helps me feel better about myself. A true friend. Must see the positive in my situation: have new home, new friends, a sense of belonging, talking to family more, and trying to overcome my demons.
‘You okay? What are you thinking?’ I asked, settling on floorboards.
Turned her gaze on me. ‘Have you ever noticed that everyone who lives here has a heart in need of fixing in some way? Albie with his grief for Rose and the need to fulfil her last wish. Harley with his surgery and all that tabloid crap. Theo, bereaved and missing his wife. Vanessa, pining for Laurie’s dad. You?—’
‘I’m not broken-hearted. I didn’t get dumped or lose the love of my life.’
‘There’s more than one way for a heart to be broken. You lost the life you had and future you planned. It’s a bereavement, so heartbreak is valid.’
‘Hmmm. Maybe.’ Voice faltering, switched attention to her. ‘What about your heartbreak? Your ex leaving?’
‘It’s not the fact he walked out on me, our relationship had already been damaged irreparably by his lies and deceit. It was him leaving Rosie. She’s missed out on having a dad. I see her looking at other kids with theirs sometimes, and it makes my chest hurt. I just wish…’ she gulped. ‘I’ve always been desperatefor him to change, but he can’t seem to get it together enough to be a reliable, responsible parent.’
‘That’s sad. I’m sorry. I wrote a piece about absent fathers once, and the impact it can have on child development. But you’re a brilliant mum, better than two parents put together.’
She sighed. ‘Thanks. It’s still not ideal.’
Took a chance, curiosity piqued by their exchange earlier. ‘What about Harley? Every time I turn around, Rosie’s hanging off him. He’s good with her, in a gruff way. She’s got him wrapped around her little finger, just look at the whole beard trimming thing. Could he be a father figure?’
Pulled a face. ‘I wouldn’t want to rely on him, and it’d be presumptuous to expect. It’s not like we’re together.’
Narrowed my eyes. ‘There’s something going on though. You’re getting on better, and the way he looked at you?—’
