A New Friend

‘Happy?’ Nic broke off from nuzzling her neck.

‘Ish,’ she muttered, not turning.

‘That all?’

Ros rolled over to face him. ‘Sorry.’ She wished she could sound more enthusiastic but, truth be told, all she felt was worn out.

‘Still feeling low?’ He stroked her cheek.

Her body went rigid. ‘Don’t give me that again.’

‘Give you what?’ He assumed that blond, blue-eyed, little-boy-lost look that had so captivated her, in the beginning.

‘Oh.’ She couldn’t keep the irritation out of her voice. ‘The mental health card.’

‘Babe…’

‘Don’t you “babe” me, Nic Prentice. I’m not suffering from depression. I’m lonely, that’s what it boils down to.’

‘But…’ Puzzled look. ‘You’ve got Max.’

‘Babies don’t talk to you. Well…’ she corrected. ‘Maybe later on they do.’

Her mind ran back to that first six months she’d spent at home – those endless days when she’d seen no one, spoken to no one, and the phone didn’t ring. Even when she’d girded herself to take a walk with the buggy up the Chanonry and through Seaton Park or down High Street and over the Spital into town, not a single person had exchanged a greeting. Ros sighed. She might as well have been invisible.

Nic interrupted her train of thought. ‘How about the mums at nursery?’

‘I’ve no time to sit around and chat, Nic. I’m always in such a rush.’

‘Fiona, then.’

‘That’s rich coming from you.’ Ros spluttered. ‘You’ve done your best to drive Fiona away.’

‘Now you’re being paranoid.’

‘I’m not bloody paranoid. Maggie Laird says…’

He cut in. ‘Who’s Maggie Laird?’

‘We work together.’

‘You don’t mean that dame I met at the Christmas do?’ he sneered.

‘That’s exactly who I mean.’

‘Oh, come on. She’s just some sad divorcee.’

‘She’s a widow. And she says…’

‘You’ve found a new friend, have you?’ he spoke over her. ‘First it was Fiona – Fiona this, Fiona that. Now it’s Maggie Laird.’

‘I gather you don’t like her either.’

‘It’s not a question of “like”. What the hell does a nonentity like that know about anything?’

‘She’s…’

‘It’s not even Maggie Laird. It’s you, Ros. You can’t stand on your own two feet, can’t make a decision to save yourself, can’t…’

‘You don’t have to tell me, you’ve told me often enough.’ She broke down in tears. ‘All that’s wrong with me,’ she snivelled, ‘is I’m worn out trying to juggle a full-time job, a house and a baby all on my own.’

‘You’re not on your own.’

‘No? If you’re not in the department, you’re in Senior Common Room, either that or out running.’

‘I do help.’ Plaintive voice. ‘I’ve dropped Max off at nursery twice this week. Plus, I bathed him and unloaded the dishwasher and…’

‘It’s not that sort of help I had in mind. It’s…’ Noisily, she blew her nose. ‘Moral support.’

‘Don’t know what you’re getting at.’

She sighed. ‘What I’m saying is, for every practical thing you do to help… And don’t get me wrong, I do appreciate it. You come out with some niggle or other. If it’s not the house, it’s the nursery, or the shopping, or how often I use the car. And it’s ground me down. I feel like I’m walking on eggshells all the time, and I can’t take any more.’

‘Whoa!’ He caught hold of her wrist. ‘What brought this on?’

She wrenched away. ‘Your attitude.’

‘My attitude?’

‘Yes. You’re so negative, Nic. The way you’re forever finding fault. And it’s not just me. It’s my folks, my friends. Small wonder I hardly see them anymore.’

‘How’s about a night out?’ He tickled her chin. ‘That positive enough for you?’

She swatted his hand away. ‘Be serious.’

Grins. ‘I am being serious.’

Ros let out a long sigh. ‘Nothing’s ever your fault, is it, Nic? And whenever I try to have a serious conversation, all you do is duck and weave.’

‘Ducking and weaving is my speciality.’ He landed a kiss on the tip of her nose.

‘Oh, for heaven’s sake…’ She turned her back on him.

‘Love you, baby.’ He ran his fingers up and down her naked spine.

Against all her inclinations she giggled.

‘I’m sorry.’ He spooned into her. ‘Sounds like I’ve been a grouch.’

‘Mega grouch!’ she mumbled.

‘Pressure of work.’ He rolled her to face him. ‘Poor baby. I’m really sorry I’ve been so tied up. But I’ll make it up to you.’ He kissed her, on the mouth this time. ‘I promise.’