He and Effie leave the room. As soon as they're gone, I haul my skirt to my waist and peel down my panties. Smoothing my hands over my buttocks, I check for any sign of the bug.
I've only just finished a minute inspection of my nether regions when I hear a throat being cleared behind me. I whirl around, dropping the folds of my dress down to cover the knickers around my knees. Anders is standing in the doorway, his lips twitching, his dimple carved into one cheek.
“That was horrible!” I cry with as much dignity as I can manage.
“But funny,” he insists, with a half nod.
“We will noteverspeak about this.”
He puts his finger and thumb together and draws them across his smirking mouth, zipping it. But he ruins it all by tapping his temple with a lewd wink. The thought of Anders storing the image of me bare-arsed and bent over sends a jolt of liquid heat through me, which is somewhat problematic, because my knickers aren't where they're supposed to be. Internally I debate having the chutzpah to pull them up in front of him but opt for cowardice instead. I shuffle past him and head for his bathroom. But when I open the door, I come face-to-face with a hooded assassin, blade about to be unsheathed.
Sometimes I wonder about Anders’s sanity. Locking the door under the piercing gaze of the resin figure, I strip and do one last thorough top to toe check for errant roaches. Only when I’m absolutely certain of the absence of any bugs do I pull up my knickers. I flush the toilet for misdirection, wash my hands thoroughly and exit. When I rejoin our host, I find him sitting across the table from Effie while she munches on a stick of shortbread.
Although she's not making much progress because she's far more interested in quizzing Anders than she is in eating. To my surprise, Anders shows not a trace of boredom on the subject, but the same excitement. He is plainly happy to talk to Effie about Smauglette and reptiles in general. And I am happy to let him.
Wordlessly, Anders slides a coffee toward me. He knows how I take it, as he's made me coffee before. With a deep breath, I sip it, surreptitiously checking the time. My frayed nerves can’t take much more of this visit and I’m hoping it’s been long enough I can legitimately end it. Although I do feel bad because my daughter is clearly enjoying herself.
I perk up when I hear him mention the Natural History Museum and Effie shakes her head.
“You haven’t been?” Anders asks, a glance in my direction. “You’d love it.”
I’d suggested it as a venue to Mike last winter. I was none too keen because I find it creepy: taxidermied animals, desiccated bones and body parts in jars. What’s not to dislike? Mike had said he’d take her but six months on and it’s not happened.
“Her father was going to but …” I trail off. Anders knows enough about Mike, but Effie still lives in hope.
“I don’t want to upset your ex, but would it be okay if I took her?” he asks. “At her age, my parents took me to the Field Museum in Chicago. I still remember it.”
I shake my head gently. “You can’t take Effie to a museum. You’re too busy.” Because I know how this will end. Effie will bank on it and be destroyed when it doesn’t happen. I’m surprisedthisvisit actually took place. But there is a big difference between our brief interruption of his work and the loss of an entire afternoon.
“Yes, he can,” Effie contradicts me. She’s bolt upright, leaning forward, radiating excitement.
“I’ll make time,” he says firmly.
Both of them turn to look at me. And I can’t bear to disappoint my daughter. Despite my reservations, I relent. “Okay.”
Anders offers his hand to Effie and I’m shocked when she takes it. He shakes it up and down and then drops it. “It’s a date.”
Then he turns to look directly at me. “As long as you promise to keep your butt in your panties, I might let you come too.”
Ha bloody ha.
The Dating Question
“And Mummy screamed.” Effie finishes her account of her visit with Anders in a fit of giggles. Max joins in the laughter too. Dana, though, leans across and squeezes my hand.
“I would’ve screamed too,” she says, the first person to offer me sympathy. I give her a weak smile. “Thanks.”
She leans her head closer to mine. “So you've introduced Anders to Effie?” she whispers, her eyes wide. “This is a change from your previous position.”
Max and Dana have come to visit to make up for a missed Friday evening. As Sunday lunch is a busy time for restaurants, Fiona’s not with them.
I purse my lips, not sure what to say. “I didn’t plan it. It’s just happened.”
“Have you changed your mind, then?” she asks.
“It’s complicated.”
She laughs. “It’s never complicated. Complicated only means your head wants to go one way, your vagina another.”
