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I rock back on my heel. ‘Yes. Yeah, it was. Thanks for inviting me.’
‘You’re welcome.’ Hot Face smiles warmly. And for a moment, he looks as though he might kiss me. I don’t know what happens next and why. His lips are headed for mine. I panic. At the last second, I turn and give him my cheek. When he pulls back his cheeks are sallow. He’s suddenly become deeply invested in the label on his beer. When Hot Face notices mine is almost all gone, he jumps at the opportunity to go and get me another. He turns back to the bar, back to get me another drink.
I look back to the corner of the room, but Walker is gone.
Chapter Seventeen
The Question
I look down at the final to-do list and tick off doubt self, having just come off the tail end of a depressive episode where I spiralled into a state of existential dread. I then tick off come-back montage, after having regained spirit with help from a series of power ballads.
‘How was your break?’ Aggy asks with slight reluctance. She caught me pre-Bunny Tyler.
‘Productive.’ I nod decisively. ‘Okay. So, Helen – you’ve got the catering covered, yeah?’
‘Lemon drizzle and blueberry muffins are a go.’ I nod. We were going to have bee-stings as well but I thought it in poor taste considering I’ve invited the bee-shifter’s family. Tick.
‘John, security’s sorted?’
He gives me a very stoic salute and I return the gesture. Tick.
‘Neville, you’ll be on the door and welcoming people in. You up to it?’
‘Hi, I’m Neville.’
‘Wonderful.’ Tick.
‘That only leaves… Aggy, you’ve got all the pieces compiled and ready to frame.’
‘No.’
I look up from the list. No?
‘No?’
‘No.’ She draws out the vowel like she’s ringing out water from a cloth.
I frown and lower my list. ‘Why… why not?’
‘Because you’ve got them, dear. Remember?’
Shit. No. I did not remember. That’s fine. This is fine, I tell myself as I grip my roots and pull. She taps my hand in gentle reprimand. ‘None of that,’ she chastises. I deserve chastism. The pieces were meant to be framed today, so they were ready to go for tomorrow and hung first thing in the morning.
‘It’s alright, just take the frames home with you and pop them in tonight, you can bring them back tomorrow morning.’
Yes. That would be the logical thing to do, except there’s over fifty frames and I don’t have a fucking car.
I do know someone who does though…
I doubt she’d be receptive to towing both me and the frames she fought against me using to my residence. I turn to where Delilah’s been petulantly sitting with her feet kicked up on the table in the corner, disengaged for the entirety of the morning. I try to reshape my cringe into a smile.
She scans me with a look of indifference. This may take some placation on my part.
‘I don’t suppose you’d consider—’
‘No.’
Right. Well, it was worth a t—
