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He took the brush from my hand and loaded it with paint, tickling faint lines over my own, and he was close, his mouth to my ear, his breath with just the slightest hitch. “Pinocchio.”
I focused on the marks his brush was making. “I’m good. It’s just… weird.” My voice was barely a whisper, lost beneath the chatter in the room, but I still felt bad, as though I may be risking us.
“Nothing’s changed. This is just… a necessary part of us.”
“I know.”
“For now, Helen. It’s just for now.”
“I know.” I took a breath, leaned back to check out the room, and nobody was watching. “Dad’s working evenings. Weekends, too. I have to look after Katie.”
“Lunchtime,” he said, and I felt bad for even risking the topic. He handed me my brush back, and I forced on a smile.
“Thanks, Mr Roberts. I’ll use that.”
“Good,” he said. He straightened up, but he hovered, and I had to close my eyes, just to still myself, just to feel him there.
His fingers brushed mine, and then they gripped, guiding my brush to the palette. And then his thumb brushed my knuckles, just for a moment. It meant everything. An anchor in the chaos.
“Lunchtime,” he said again. And he was gone.
Lunchtime couldn’t come soon enough. I breathed a long, cleansing breath as the door closed behind the last of the kids, and waited for Mark to make the first move. He wiped a load of pastel dust from one of the workbenches, and scoped out the corridor through the window. He must have been satisfied, because he closed the distance between us and gestured me over to the paint storage racks. I slipped between them, out of view of the windows, and he joined me, close enough that I could feel the heat of him.
“What’s going on?” he said.
I didn’t know quite where to start, so I started with Dad, blurting out a string of childish it’s not fairs before I even managed to convey the actuality of the situation.
He tipped his head from side to side. “It’s not ideal, but we’ll manage.”
“How?” I said. “Mum’s doing loads of shifts to make up for the holiday downtime. I’ll be stuck in every night.”
“For two weeks, Helen. It’s not the end of the world.” He smiled, and I felt like a petulant kid. “We’ll sort something out.”
“I hope so.”
“I know so.”
“But if we don’t?”
“If we don’t, then we’ll make up for it over the next two weeks, or the two after that. This isn’t disappearing anywhere, Helen. You can relax.”
The tension in me uncoiled. “Sorry. I’m being silly. A drama llama.”
He laughed. “You’re entitled to be a drama llama sometimes. It’s nice you’re bothered.”
“Of course I’m bothered.” My eyes could have eaten him up. “You look good. I like the tie.”
“You look young,” he said. “It’s amazing how quickly I’ve come to expect you out of uniform.”
“I hate it. I feel like a kid.”
“You’re hardly a child, Helen. I think we’ve established that rather comprehensively, don’t you?”
I could feel the blush. “I hate not being able to touch you.”
“The same applies.”
“I hate not being able to kiss you, or say whatever I want to say.”
“I fully concur.”
“I can’t wait for the Easter break.”
He smiled. “You won’t find any disagreement from my side, Helen.”
“I don’t want to be at school anymore. I want to be home, with you.”
He sighed. “Enough of that. School first, always.”
“I know, I know.” I groaned, and decided to spill. “Lizzie hates me.”
He looked surprised. “I’m sure Elizabeth doesn’t hate you, Helen.”
“She does. She was with Rachel Panter this morning and she didn’t even have two words for me.”
He shrugged. “Maybe she was just preoccupied. I’m sure she’s capable of having more than one friend.”
“We’ve always just had each other. I don’t get it. I tried calling her, tried messaging…”
“Then you have little to worry about, I’m sure.”
“She doesn’t seem to see it that way.”
“She will,” he said. “It’s first day back, give it a little time. I’m sure this will pass.”
I smiled. “Why are you so calm all the time? You’re just so… perfect.”
He laughed. “Hardly, Helen. Hardly.”
“I wish I found all this as easy as you do.”
He raised an eyebrow. “You think I find this easy?”
I felt a flutter in my belly. “Don’t you?”
His eyes smouldered in a way that was wholly inappropriate, and I was right back at his, spread-eagled and helpless, squealing with glee as he pushed himself all the way inside.
“I’ve just spent two glorious weeks with a beautiful young woman in my home, Helen, in my bed. A beautiful young woman whose love has driven me to put everything on the line… to break my own code of ethics… to pack up every memory of my old life to make room for the new. You think I can just switch that off? You think it doesn’t drive me crazy having you so close under these circumstances?” His fingers brushed my cheek. “It’s all I can do to be professional right now, and that’s for your sake as much as mine.”
