She nods and slips away silently, padding back up the stairs.
Now that Sophie’s gone, I should probably have a word with Ryan about his behaviour at school today. I don’t relish the thought, but I can’t just ignore what happened, can I? I gaze over at the top of Ryan’s head, remembering when he was younger with those beautiful dark curls rather than the short French crop he now prefers. Suddenly Ryan sighs, sets his phone down on the table and pushes it away. He glances up at me briefly, scowls and then catches his brother’s eye. Something passes between them.
Sonny frowns and shakes his head.
I walk over and start clearing the table, psyching myself up to question my eldest son. But I need to speak to him on his own, not with Sonny earwigging. ‘Sonny, have you got any homework?’
‘No.’
‘Are you sure?’
My phone buzzes again. I quickly check the screen. It’s another text from Tia. I lay the phone on the table. She’ll have to wait.
Ryan elbows Sonny.
‘Get off!’ Sonny pushes his brother.
‘Sonny,’ Ryan growls.
‘Shut up. You say it.’
I stare from one to the other. ‘Okay, what’s going on?’
Sonny shakes his head, clamps his lips together and folds his arms across his chest.
‘Ryan, why don’t you tell me.’
My eldest son glares at me for a moment, gets to his feet and then storms out of the room, slamming the door behind him.
‘Ryan!’ I take a few steps after him. ‘Ryan, come back!’ Maybe I should go after him. No. Probably best not. I’ll let him calm down for a few minutes.
Sonny interrupts my thoughts. ‘Mum, why’s he mad all the time?’
‘Oh, sweetie, I don’t know. I wish I did.’ I use my most gentle voice. ‘Sonny, whatever it was he wanted you to say, I’d really like you to tell me, okay?’
He scowls and then sighs. ‘Okay. But it’s weird.’
‘What’s weird?’ I’m starting to feel more than a little freaked out.
‘They’re saying stuff about you at school.’
I swallow. ‘Stuff? What stuff?’
Sonny flushes bright red before replying. ‘Mum, did you kiss my teacher?’
Eleven
FIONA
Seated at the conference table with my sketch pad open, I’m trying to work on my new designs for the Carmichaels’ mill house. However, my concentration isn’t what it should be, as I’m hyper-aware of those two interlopers in my office. Even though I’m purposely facing the opposite direction, I keep imagining that they’re looking over at me disapprovingly.
I’m trying to stay zen about the audit. Que sera sera and all that crap. But the thing that’s worrying me most isn’t what the inspectors might discover, it’s how I’m going to tell Nathan what’s been going on. I don’t want him to see me so vulnerable. I’ve always prided myself on being self-sufficient, and he likes that about me. I hate the expression ‘power couple’ but I feel like that’s what we are. Admitting weakness to Nathan doesn’t come easy. It isn’t how our relationship works. Or, at least, it isn’t how theperceptionof our relationship works.
If I were to tell him that my business might be in trouble, would he be sympathetic and supportive, or would he blame me and get angry? There’s no way of knowing, because we’ve never had any major hurdles like this to get over before. Our careers have always been pretty plain sailing. I guess it could go okay if I told him – maybe he’ll give me some practical advice. Help me to get through it. That’s how marriages are supposed to work, aren’t they? You support one another through the good times and the bad.
Nathan and I met eight years ago at a local awards ceremony for young entrepreneurs, where he was presenting the prize and I won first place. On both counts, it was a big deal. Winning the award got me the publicity to really boost my client base, and meeting Nathan changed my life. I’d only been in one serious relationship before, but that one didn’t work out. Nathan broke down a lot of my barriers and we ended up falling in love and getting married within a year.
That awards ceremony kind of set the scene for our lives. Success. Happiness. Perfection. Nothing less will do. I sigh. There’s no way I can tell Nathan that my business is under investigation. Pushing my sketch pad away, I stare out through the window at the shops opposite, at the people walking past, going about their daily business. I wonder if they’re happy. If their lives are straightforward and simple. Or if their minds are in turmoil and they’re simply presenting a calm exterior. Sometimes I’m amazed at how everyone in the world isn’t freaking out more.
