She’d had to drag Daniel back into the office again, after school. He didn’t want to be there, and it was almost impossible for her to concentrate when he was sitting by the window, kicking his heels against the chair. But it was nearly a week since Mike Sewell’s offer had been accepted on the Sion Hill apartment, and both sides were on her back to get the contracts drawn up. Eve wasn’t usually so slow with this sort of thing, but at the moment it felt as if she was constantly chasing her tail. She’d promised Gav the documents would go in tonight’s post, but it was nearly 5pm so that wasn’t going to happen. God, why was life so manic?
‘Mummy, I got four hundred and sixty-three points!’
‘Well done.’
It would have been so much easier to call Juliet, or one of the other school-gate mums, and ask them to pick up Daniel and hold onto him for a couple of hours. But it felt as if she was always the one asking favours, and rarely returning them. So instead, her son was sitting in the office playing on her phone. She had turned the volume down, but could still hear tinny squeaks and bangs and, every now and then, he’d shout out in triumph as he got onto the next level of whatever mind-rotting rubbish his crap mother was letting him play.
‘Yesssss! Killed them all!’
‘Keep your voice down for me, Daniel,’ Eve said, smiling apologetically across the office at Caroline, who grinned back: Don’t worry, she mouthed. She was such a sweetheart; thank God Gav was out at a viewing, he always made it clear he wasn’t happy about small children being in the office. ‘Company policy, Eve!’ he’d bellow. ‘Over-eighteens only! And even then, if they spend time in here, they have to be able to sell houses!’
But Gav’s disapproval was way down her list of priorities at the moment. Anyway, she was glad she’d picked up Daniel today: he’d been subdued when he came out of the gates, dragging his backpack along the ground behind him, scuffing the toes of his shoes. Other children had been racing past, pushing and jostling each other, screaming and laughing, throwing themselves at their waiting parents. But her little boy’s head had been down and he’d refused to smile at her, even when she put her arm around his shoulders and tried to tickle him.
‘Bad day?’ she’d whispered in his ear.
He nodded, leaning towards her, resting his head against her coat.
‘Well, it’s over now,’ she’d said. ‘Come on. I’ve got KitKats in the car.’ Chocolate wasn’t going to make everything better, but it was all she had to offer.
By 6pm, Eve and Daniel were the only ones left in the office, and she still hadn’t finished the contracts. The streets outside were dark and the shapes of people scurrying home in the drizzle flashed past the windows. Rush hour was in full swing, and cars, taxis and buses were crawling along the road, the glare of headlights picking out the spatter of raindrops on the firm’s A-board on the pavement. There was no point leaving now: it would take them over an hour to get home. Maybe they should just stop at McDonald’s on the way – she had filled the fridge with food yesterday, during her Jake-infused supermarket trip, but it would take so long to prepare something and they were both tired. She watched Daniel swinging his feet backwards and forwards, trying not to get irritated by the clank every time his heels connected with the metal bar at the back of the chair.
Her mobile started to vibrate and Ben’s name flashed on the screen. About bloody time: it had taken him three days to return her call last week about Mrs Russell, then he’d been vague about finding a time to meet up. ‘I’ll get back to you tomorrow,’ he’d said. She was irritated but not surprised when he didn’t, and she hadn’t had the chance to talk to him yesterday because he’d dropped off Daniel and driven away again without bothering to say hello. What could be so important that he couldn’t find the time to discuss how unhappy his son was at school? Work presumably: that was the usual excuse.
Or Lou. His beautiful wife Lou, who was pregnant with his next child. Lou, who might be feeling tired and ill, and in need of being looked after. Would Ben be rushing to her side when she asked for anything? Would he be insisting she took it easy while he looked after Keira and sorted out supper? Would he be stepping up in the way so many husbands did at this time, shouldering more of the burden so his pregnant wife could rest while their tiny scrap of a baby grew inside her? Stepping up in the way he had never done while she was pregnant with Daniel.
Thinking about Lou and the baby made something sting deep inside Eve. It was an ache of jealousy and she knew she was being mean-spirited. But their happiness felt very brutal and horribly unfair. The hardest part was that she couldn’t share this feeling with anyone else – least of all Ben. As she lifted her mobile to her ear, she dug the nails of her left hand into her palm, watching as indentations in the shape of half-moons turned her skin red.
‘Hi Ben,’ she said, her voice bright and cheery. ‘Thanks for calling back. Everything okay with you?’
She didn’t care about the answer, and realised she was listening to the tone of his voice, rather than what he was saying, straining to catch every nuance. Did he sound happier than normal? Excited? Was there a new kind of elation in his voice, at the fact that he was going to be a father again?