Alex scooted around the kitchen bench to the fridge where she expertly withdrew the milk from the door with maximum efficiency and lobbed a dash into her tea, all without spilling a drop.
She was on fire this morning. Already, she’d shot off emails to a soccer academy and a jujitsu club, asking for the twins to be enrolled as a matter of urgency. She’d also made enquiries with a tutoring service that ran three-hour classes on Saturday mornings for five year olds. Socialisation and academic support – that’s what Noah needed.
Her Fitbit buzzed. One thousand steps and it wasn’t even 7 am. Her wrist vibrated in celebration. She’d even managed to not burn the twins’ toast. Already, they were dressed and ready for school and playing outside. This was her day. She. Had. This.
Tea in hand, Alex perched on a stool across the kitchen island from her husband, busy eating his cornflakes.
‘I Spy a woman on a mission.’ He winked.
‘With a capital M.’ Alex blew the steam and sipped. ‘Now, you be Martin and I’ll be … well … I’ll be me.’
‘Martin …’ he mused. ‘That’s the Pommy one, isn’t it? Looks like a chipmunk.’
‘More squirrel, I’d say.’
‘Right.’ James munched thoughtfully.
‘Okay … so, here’s what I’ll say.’ Alex took a breath. ‘Martin, thank you for taking the time to meet with me.’
James cocked his head. ‘Awright, geezer. What’s up wiv ya. Know what I mean?’
Alex snorted and tea flew out of her nose. ‘He’s not the Artful Dodger! He’s more … Prince Philip.’
‘I see.’ James straightened and looked down his nose. ‘Top of the morning to you, Dame Alex. How can one be of service on this fine-looking day?’
‘Can you please take this seriously.’
James slurped the dregs of his cereal. ‘I don’t know what you’re so worried about.’ He rose and came around the bench to kiss her but Alex recoiled and pointed to his chin.
‘You’ve got a cornflake.’
James popped the offending flake into his mouth and chomped on it. ‘You’re completely entitled to ask for flexible work arrangements. It’s the law. And contrary to your fears that cutting back to three days will leave us destitute on the street, I can assure you they are unfounded. So really, what’s the worst that can happen?’
Alex tightened her grip on the mug. ‘That Martin says no, questions my commitment to the job and starts giving me minor matters that even Brianna could do with her eyes closed, so then I’m stuck doing a job that sends my brain to sleep.’
‘A lot of people would love to sleepwalk through their jobs. Actually, a lot already do.’ He paused to look right into her eyes. ‘Don’t sell yourself short. You’re great at what you do. They love you there.’ Breaking eye contact, James put his bowl into the dishwasher and closed the door with a firm shove as if he were quite finished with the conversation.
‘Could you please be more gentle with the dishwasher. They cost a fortune to fix,’ she said tightly.
‘Yes, sir.’ James gave a mock salute and smiled.
Ugh. So annoying. He didn’t get it. The guilt. The feeling that she was backing away from everything that she and her parents had worked, and sacrificed, for. They didn’t give up years of family holidays just so she could turn around and back off when things got a little tough.
Alex drained the rest of her tea into the sink. ‘I’ve got to run. You’re okay to drop the boys?’ she called over her shoulder, collecting her keys and bag as she sailed towards the front door.
James stood in the doorway behind her. ‘Hey! You forgot something.’ He pointed to his cheek. ‘Kiss?’
Alex stopped, eyebrows raised. ‘Really? I have to go.’ She looked at her watch.
He nodded and took a few steps towards her. ‘I’m sorry about the dishwasher.’ He deposited a soft kiss on her cheek and whispered in her ear, ‘I’ll be more gentle next time.’
As her husband held his lips against her cheek, Alex felt her frustration ebbing. It wasn’t his fault that he’d had the kind of childhood where money was never a problem, where he could go out to dinner and have his own drink and his own dessert. That’s what she wanted for the boys. Choices. No fears or worries.
‘I’ll see you tonight.’ Alex withdrew and hurried out the door. The boys were in the Devines’ front yard with Talia, sitting and stroking a white ball of fluff.
‘He loves a scratch just behind his ears. Like this,’ said Talia, demonstrating.
‘Like this?’ Noah pumped his hands up and down on the cat’s head. ‘Look! He loves it!’
‘Boys, I’m going,’ Alex called. ‘Come and give me a kiss.’
‘Hi, Mrs O’Rourke.’ Talia rose and waved. ‘Go on, boys. Say bye to your mum,’ she urged.
The boys hurled themselves into their mother’s legs, kissed her somewhere near her hip and bolted back to the cat. Alex went to hop into her car, but stopped with her fingers on the handle. ‘Say, Talia. I don’t suppose you’d be interested in babysitting for us sometime?’
‘Yay, you could bring Banjo!’ Noah’s eyes shone.
The cat that murdered your guinea pig?
The girl beamed. ‘Sure, Mrs O’Rourke. I’d love that.’
‘Call me Alex, please.’
‘I’m not sure that’s a good idea.’ Twenty feet away, in the shadow of the front door, stood Charlie Devine. Arms folded.
‘Oh, sorry Charlie. Didn’t see you there.’ Alex shielded her eyes and Charlie walked closer, dressed as usual in her all-white, form-fitting activewear. The woman’s penchant for such a pure hue verged on … well, it was almost like a uniform, like a cult leader might wear.
‘Talia’s never babysat before.’
‘Mum, I’ll be fine,’ said Talia.
‘I don’t mind if she doesn’t have experience. Everyone has to start somewhere,’ said Alex. ‘The boys really seem to love her, and that’s all that matters to me. And I’m sure the extra cash for Talia wouldn’t hurt.’
Charlie glared. ‘We’re not that desperate for money and I don’t believe in child labour. Talia has everything she needs.’
Alex tensed. There was nothing wrong with teenagers having a part-time job. She’d worked all through her high-school years to buy the things she didn’t entirely need, and her parents couldn’t afford. Brand-name jeans and Doc Martens, for instance.
‘Please, Mum. Please,’ Talia begged.
Ignoring her, Charlie tapped her very fancy-looking smart watch. White, of course. ‘It’s getting late. You need to come inside now and get ready for school.’
‘Boys, you too. Time to brush teeth. Dad’s inside to help you. Let’s go. Scoot,’ Alex ushered them in the direction of the house.
‘C’mon, Banjo.’ Talia collected the cat and trudged inside, her mother’s hand in the small of her back. Alex watched from her car. At the door, the girl stopped and waved wanly, her freckles now more pronounced against the backdrop of her pale face.
What is going on inside that house?
Alex was transfixed.
Charlie followed Talia, and as the teenager went inside Alex had the sense of her being pushed by her mother towards a dark, cavernous hole.
Charlie paused and looked back at Alex, an expression of … was it anger? Shit, she’d made her neighbour cross, again, for what seemed like no justifiable reason. All she’d done was to suggest Talia do some babysitting. What was wrong with that? If anything, Alex should be the one who was angry – all that judgement about kids not working. It was offensive.
The door slammed, cutting through the quiet of the morning. Yes, definitely angry. Alex flinched, and started to move. She didn’t have time to worry about Charlie Devine. She had a meeting to get to.