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Ron scrubbed a hand through his thinning hair.“Yeah, well, decided I needed a break.Work my backside off for Pearson’s, and what do they do for me in return, eh?”
Carts didn’t say a word; everyone knew Ron milked the Pearson cow, had done for years.Ron glanced up and growled.“Don’t look at me like I’ve lost my bloody marbles.I don’t like having to do this, my clients aren’t overjoyed at being passed over to you, but you’re the most experienced I’ve got.I’ve told them not to expect great things.But they get that the boss needs a break from time to time.”
“You’ll leave me some instructions?”
“Ah, Jesus, you’ll work it out.It’s hardly rocket science.”
There it was, his workload was going to triple next week.A host of frustrated small business owners expecting him to fix up the fact they’d kept three years of receipts in a shoebox and now the tax office was breathing down their neck.Somehow he’d cope.He always did.Ron might bend him, but he sure as fuck would not break him.“Not a problem.Anything else, Ron?”
“Calling it a day already, are we?”Ron made a big deal of looking at his watch.“Off to that weird woo-woo stuff you get up to on a Friday?”
“No, not tonight.”He’d made the mistake a few months back of telling Travis he did yoga and it had spread like wildfire round the office.
Ron gave a snort of derision and returned to his computer screen.“Go on then, scarper.”Carts made for the door, “Oi, one more thing—”
Fingers gripping the doorknob, he muttered, “Yes, Ron.”He knew what was coming.
“Get a bloody haircut.”
Carts shut the door just hard enough to send a clear message.
Not that the old sod would notice.
On the street he tried to breathe out the tension from his exchange with Ron and checked his phone.There was a text from Dan, distorted by his crazy-paving screen.
Stop being a soft cock and come to the pub.
Carts grinned.Since Aaron had left for an extended trip to Europe with Alice, and Carts had taken up yoga, the third member of their trio, Dan, regularly grumbled that the Friday night drinking tradition had ground to a halt.Despite his complaints, Carts knew Dan was happy enough to scull pints of Guinness and talk tackles with the guys from his rugby team.
He contemplated a response along the lines of a hard cock, but immediately thought better of it.That would be disrespectful to Judith.
He was thirty.Time to man up.
He might even put his own swear jar in the kitchen at home; when he had kids, he wouldn’t want them to be lisping out bad language at kindy, would he?
A sudden warm glow spread through his chest.He’d never hidden the fact he’d love to have kids in the not-too-distant future.That he wanted to marry and settle down.He had the house, but it needed a woman’s touch.And you could bet Judith’s would be tasteful.His eyes must have gone kind of dreamy because when his phone pinged with another message he had to blink to focus on the cracked screen.
It was from Mum:I’ve decided to let Avery go.As long as you take her and pick her up at 10 sharp.
He sent a thumbs-up emoji.
A win.So why did he feel vaguely queasy?Had he done the right thing?After his talk with Avery yesterday, he’d spent an hour persuading Mum that it was a good idea to let her go to the party.That it was important for a girl of sixteen to fit in, to be part of the group.That giving a little would result in a gain in the long run.He’d reassured Mum that Avery still loved the flute and it was just a hang-up about French food.Mum had looked sceptical.“She didn’t mind eating a witchetty grub at the science expo your dad put on at her school.”
Carts shrugged.“Bravado.Probably showing off to her mates that her dad’s a big wig science lecturer.”
Mum grunted.Her onion chopping got fiercer.“Do you want to stay for dinner?”
“Not tonight.Got a big day tomorrow.”
Mum cast him a dark look.“When are you going to get another job?That man’s a slave driver.”
“He’s okay,” Carts said, avoiding her eyes while shunting on his jacket.She didn’t believe a word, of course, but he wanted to strut his stuff in front of the mirror, not get into another discussion about his self-worth.
When he kissed her goodbye, she’d grudgingly said she’d think about the party issue.
And now it had come down in Avery’s favour.She owed him big time.
He checked his phone once more.No message from Judith, so presumably she wasn’t running late or standing him up.
