Isabella: Hi.
No immediate response. She moved to look out the front window across the square, squinting to see if she could see him inside The Bistro. But it was too far away. She could see the lights on, glowing through the windows. Maybe he was busy. And then:
Etienne: Hi.
She grinned to herself and then took the bull by the horns. She’d never put herself out there like this before, but she figured, if you don’t ask, you don’t get.
Isabella: You free tonight? Thought I could give you your delayed birthday present.
Her stomach lurched at the thought of putting her hands on him. Of finding out what he had in those snug-fitting jeans. She wanted to see him, suck him, taste him. She pressed her thighs together while she waited for the reply.
Etienne: Nice thought but I don’t think I need your birthday present tonight.
Isabella slumped in shock. What kind of message was that? He didn’tneedit? Did that mean he’d had his ‘needs’ fulfilled elsewhere? Of course he must have done. He was the town player after all. She was about to throw the phone onto the sofa when another came through.
Etienne: What I really need is some help!
That stopped her in her tracks. She shrugged, looking around her empty flat, having nothing else to do tonight.
Isabella: What’s happening?
Etienne: Can you come to Fox’s?
Isabella: Be there in ten.
Etienne opened the door holding George against his chest. The tiny boy’s pale face was tear-stained and he refused to look at Isabella. Reggie ran around in the background wearing a pair of pants on his head and chasing Dingbat.
‘Welcome to the madhouse.’ Etienne’s normally perfect waves were stuck up with what looked like peanut butter. ‘Come on through.’
The kitchen looked like something had exploded. Water pooled on the floor, the table was covered with half-eaten food and reading books, the sink overflowed with dirty dishes. And a funny smell, almost medicinal, hung in the air.
Dingbat streaked past, something in his mouth. Reggie raced after him, now circling a lasso over his head.
‘He has a lot of energy for this time of night?’ Isabella said.
‘I think I gave him too much sugar. . .’ Etienne said, pulling her out of the way of the rope with his free hand as it whistled past her ear.
‘Tea?’ Etienne asked, patting the back of George’s head as he sniffled into his shirt.
‘I’ll do it,’ said Isabella, taking off her coat and rolling up her shirtsleeves. Etienne slumped onto one of the kitchen chairs and adjusted George’s position on his lap. George still refused to look at anyone and stuck his head in Etienne’s armpit.
Tea made, Isabella took the chair opposite and Etienne took a thirsty slurp.
‘Thanks. Don’t think I’ve had a drink all day. Last thing was a coffee before Fox left.’
‘Where’s he gone?’
‘He’s gone to see the games investors he’s working for. They’re in London for a games convention and wanted to see the latest on the extension he’s designing.’
‘Bit last minute, isn’t it?’
Etienne scrunched his nose. ‘Abbie from next door was booked to look after the boys but she’s gone down with a bug. So, I got a call this morning to see if I could step in.’ He rubbed George’s back rhythmically, automatically, and the boy’s bottom lip wobbled.
‘It was all going fine until George started throwing up everywhere– I think he has the same bug as Abbie.’ He tried to look into George’s face, but the boy snuggled deeper and turned his head away. ‘Not feeling very well, are you, mate?’ George closed his eyes and sneaked his thumb into his mouth.
Reggie tore through the kitchen, now wearing a tutu, and this time he had the dog on reins.
‘What time is Fox back?’ Isabella asked.
