“I want a family. A place I can call home. Somewhere I can keep my stuff instead of lugging it around in a holdall. I want somewhere I can come home after work, kick off my shoes and change into my scruffs and walk around like a slob if I want to or naked.”
A half laugh huffs out of me, but she isn’t laughing. “You know everything you just mentioned, you can do that here. I won’t complain if you want to walk around naked. But I’ll be damned if I sit back and watch you waste your life stacking shelves. Promise me you’ll at least think about the possibility of going for the interview and securing the placement.”
She gives me a dramatic eye roll, but stuffs the letter in her purse.
“Finish your dinner.” I wave my fork towards her plate and she wolfs it down.
She rolls her sleeves up after her meal and runs the hot water to fill the old Belfast sink. “I should get going soon.”
I take the plates from her, then turn off the tap. “Not yet. Stay for a while, we can watch a movie or something like we used to. You go choose something while I wash up.”
* * *
Entering the living room,I flick the switch for the twinkling Christmas tree lights. Her birthday gift hangs on a branch and the Christmas gift she gave me is still wrapped underneath. She hasn’t seen it. I’m sure she hasn’t or she would have mentioned it.
“What’s Scrabble doing out?”
Vi looks up through her long lashes with a cheeky grin on her face. Those tempting fucking dimples on display. “I found it in the cupboard. Thought we could play.”
I open the can of beer in my hand and pass her a bottle of fruit cider. “I haven’t played since I was a kid. Half the pieces are probably missing.”
“It looks okay to me.” She opens the old tatty board. Mum used this to help me spell when I was a kid. Happy memories come flooding back to me, and I sit on the floor next to the coffee table with her.
She hands me a tile holder and holds open the bag, giving it a shake. “Take seven tiles.”
“I do remember how to play.” I pull the tiles from the bag and have the most awkward of letters.
“I have my own rules to make it a little interesting.”
“Of course you do.”
Setting up her tiles in the holder, hiding them from my wandering eye, she giggles, but it’s a little sinister. “So you have to spell out an action and then you have to do it.”
My brain takes a while for what she’s saying to register. I glance at my tiles, knowing there isn’t one action there that I can spell out. “All right. You go first.”
She sets her tiles on the board, spelling out the word ‘BLINK’, getting a double letter score on the ‘K’.
“Sixteen points. Impressive. Does that mean you have to blink sixteen times?” A chuckle rocks my shoulders, watching her exaggerate a blink sixteen times.
“That’s a good idea, yes.”
I jot down her score.
“Oooh, Mr Serious Scrabble Man, even taking down the scores.” She giggles, but she’s the one who looked ridiculous with her frantic blinking.
“Want to make this even more interesting?”
“If you think you can make this more interesting than what I have planned, go ahead.”
“The loser has to wait on the other for the rest of the night.”
She huffs. “I practically do that, anyway.”
“More incentive for you to win, then.” I lean over the table to tap her pouty lips, then stare at my letters, wondering what the hell I can play. At this rate, she’ll be winning hands down. With no vowels, the only word I can spell is ‘SIT’, placing them either side of her ‘I’.
“Is that it?” She belly laughs. “That’s three points. Write that down in your little pad.”
I do as she says, giving her a scowl as she continues to laugh at me. At least I only have to get up and sit three times. When her laugh is no more than a smile, she makes her move. ‘KISS’, giving her eight points.
