‘No, no. I think it’s…’ She didn’t get to finish her sentence before Hector interrupted her.
‘Ah, you must be the flexible redhead Alex has got the hots for. Haha, I can see why.’ Hector looked her up and down thoroughly and practically rubbed his hands together. Marion’s face lit up as she turned to the man that Sylvie had mistakenly thought was pestering her with far too much glee for a woman being subjected to unwanted advances; indeed, she looked like that cat who got the cream.
‘I was trying to tell her the exact same thing today, but she wouldn’t listen. You should see the sparks fly between them.’
‘Why? Is she pretending not to be interested? Oldest trick in the book when a woman wants to snare a man. Ha!’
‘Ha! Ha? I’m sorry, but you’ve never met me. How can you decide what’s true for me or not?’ It wasn’t in Sylvie’s nature to be so aggressive before an introduction had been made, but she had had it with all these assumptions about her friendship. And the use of the wordflexiblewas just downright sleazy. Who the hell did this overweight, pink-faced buffoon think he was? Friend of Alex or not, no one was speaking to her like that!
‘Oh, OK darling. You’re one ofthose. You want to take a page out of Marion’s book, she knows how to be a woman. Alex never said you had a temper to match your hair. I assume from your outburst that has to be your natural colour.’
‘Wow. You are really rude.’
‘And you’re a liar.’ The words were sudden, forceful, dripping with white, male, upper-class privilege as they were drawled by the man in front of her.
‘What, how dare…’
‘You’re a liar because you’re a woman and all women are liars. Known fact.’
‘Now, come on, Hector, surely you’ve grown out of that attitude by now. It was outdated in the nineties.’
‘A truth is a truth regardless of fashion, Marion love, and all women are liars.’
‘I don’t even know where to start with that. Alex said that you were slightly old-school in your views but he didn’t say you were positively Neanderthal. Come on, Marion, let’s get back to the field before the fireworks start.’
‘Oh, they seem to be starting now, and right here.’ Marion clapped her hands.
‘So, Alex told you about me, did he? He certainly told us all about you. Absolutely besotted, and you, madam, may think you feel the same at the moment when everything is lovely, fresh and new, but trust me, when he gets bored of playing happy bloody families – and he will – when he gets bored and heads back to Africa to do what it is he does, then that’s your relationship down the tubes. No woman wants a man who’s putting himself in danger all the time. Every woman says she wants a hero, but as I made my point earlier, women lie and to themselves more than anyone else. The realities of living with a hero, well, that doesn’t tie in with the suburban dream, that involves roughing it, going without the feather-bloody-duvet and the Egyptian cotton, eating whatever you can find, locusts, rats if you’re lucky, not having a meltdown because Deliveroo won’t be here for another half an hour…’
‘We don’t have Deliveroo in Cornwall, darling…’
‘Not the point, Marion, as well you know. You, young lady, need to leave Alex alone or accept that he will ultimately break your heart and leave you. If you tell yourself any different, you’re a liar, and if you think he’s going to stay because you’vegot some kind of magical redhead power between the sheets then guess what, you’re a fool as well as a liar!’
‘I don’t how many times I have to say this, but I am not in the slightest bit interested in Alex. And even less interested in your opinions. Marion, I’m heading back to the field. Hector, I’d like to say it was a pleasure to meet you, but then Iwouldvery definitely be a liar.’
Sylvie turned on her heel and stalked out of the cloakroom, furious that she had got drawn into this, hating everything that odious entitled man had brayed and knowing that when it came to her response – that she wasn’t at all interested in anything other than friendship with Alex McKenzie – in that instance and that instance only, Hector wasn’t too far from the mark.
Chapter Thirty
The fireworks had been spectacular, blues, greens, reds, pinks lighting up and cascading down in the sky. Oohs and aahs from children and parents alike reverberating around the field, each one barely having time to finish before the next crackle and pop of colour rioted across the night. The bonfire had fizzled out, the Guy (not burnt because Rosy had very firm views on the burning of humans, fake or otherwise) sitting in his chair observing the night’s festivities in his honour had collected a small fortune for the orphanage, and as Alex walked home with the others he felt all was right in his world.
He had realized that as they had stood watching the fireworks together (and they were dim compared to the heat with which Sylvie had delivered her opinion about her first meeting with Hector) he had slid his arm around her shoulder again. That had been the second time that evening and he realized only afterwards that he had done it. But it wasn’t meant as a sexual come-on – Sylvie had been quite clear about how she would respond to those – it was an instinctive thing. Because as they all stood together and did these things – Halloween, Bonfire Night, school – they felt like family and he just didn’t seem able to stop doing it. But his emotions were beginning to helter-skelter out of control as well.
In the moment he had realized that his arm had snaked around her shoulders, he had been embarrassed for a second or two. He noted that she hadn’t jumped away, or even stood there stiff as a board and uncomfortable, but had nestled intohis arms, the oohs and aahs over the fireworks pouring from her mouth, as both children stood in front of them. And so he kept it there, resting on her shoulders, the warmth of her making him feel stronger somehow, as if he was contributing something positive to their world.
Alex had been worried about bringing Ellie tonight, concerned that the whizz, bangs and explosions might trigger memories fromthatday. He had spoken to Natalie, the counsellor who had been with them through the whole adoption process, and it was she who encouraged him to take her, to let her fully participate in school life, just with a pair of ear defenders to reduce the noise to less alarming levels.
And as he looked at his daughter standing next to her best friend he was glad that he had listened. Ellie was loving it even though it was Sam who was jumping up and down with the energy of a little fireball, whereas Ellie spent most of the evening standing stock-still and staring in awe, the excited squeals largely coming from Sam’s lips for a change.
At one point Sam had jumped up so high and squeaked so loud that Sylvie had turned her face up to his, and looked at Alex with that collaborative smile that he assumed parents shared in moments of pride. He had felt himself grin back at her, knowing with no need for words how happy she was made by the leaps and bounds in confidence her boy had made over the course of this term.
Afterwards they were all walking back to his, as they seemed to most days, for a debrief after their evening, rather than the cold hard break of going straight home once the fireworks were over. Hector had decided to stay on and help Marion organize the clear-up and then was heading back to Chase’s, so Alex didn’t have to worry too much about managing any discord between him and Sylvie this evening. It was going to be a late night for the children but with the weekend beginningtomorrow it was so worth it; he was never quite ready to say goodnight to Sylvie and wanted some time with her that wasn’t punctuated by bangs and whizzes.
His initial plans, the plans where he laid out his heart, might have been changed by her outburst in the playground, but still he wanted every minute with her that he could have.
‘And then that green one went bam! And it all trickled down like rain and then the red one, they were awe-soooome.’
‘They were the best fireworks I’d ever seen. They were amazing. Were they the best you had ever seen, Ells?’
