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‘Piggyback?’ He bent halfway over and gestured for her to hop on.
‘No way! Seriously I’ll just walk.’ Alongside heights, and rollercoasters, Helen also didn’t really like the instability of piggybacks. Piggybacks meant him bearing her weight, which meant she would worry about her thighs. She began slowly zipping up her coat, she really did need to go, and was hoping if she took all the actions that added up to her leaving that her feet would finally be compliant and move. Right now, her body still felt like it was locked in Brody’s orbit.
He looked down at his feet. ‘I don’t know, not very gentlemanly of me to not get you to your door, seeing as I promised to drop you home.’
‘Well, you got me ninety-nine per cent of the way, and I really should have issued a potholes warning when you made me the offer. Plus, I’m intending to creep in without you meeting my mum.’ Helen gave Brody a playful smirk.
‘You don’t want me to meet your mum?!’ Brody gasped in mock offence, and gently pulled Helen into a long bear hug.
‘It’smaybea little soon …’ Helen said, becoming aware that her head had started to nestle onto Brody’s chest. It felt right there, like she had found her place.
‘What about your shoes?’ His voice was softer now, speaking into her ear as they swayed slightly back and forth locked in their bear hug.
‘Trust me, I’ve walked down this lane in worse footwear!’
‘How about you take mine?’ Brody slipped a Havaianas off his foot and handed it across to Helen. ‘Seriously, I can easily drive barefoot.’
‘I couldn’t!’
‘Honestly, I have about three other pairs exactly the same around my house, so I can always find them.’
‘No this is silly …’
‘Exactly thesameHelen. Plus …’ he held her gaze like he wanted to let her know how important this was to him, ‘… and this is a big one. If you borrow my shoes it means you’ll have to see me again. Can’t borrow a guy’s shoes and ignore his message the next day, can you?’
‘I wouldn’t ignore you …’
‘Well, I think you should take them anyway, just to be on the safe side, okay?’
‘Okay …’ Helen’s eyes met his. Brody held her arm to help her balance as she changed shoes. Helen felt that exquisite pang of parting loosen slightly; she had his shoes, they would meet again.
‘It will also help to salve my conscience for not walking with you.’
‘Now it’s you who has to stop apologising.’ Helen turned in towards Brody one more time, and he ran his fingers gently through the back of her wavy brown hair.
She soaked up those last few seconds, as time began to warp again. Her anxiety fell silent. Thoughts of the next day; that blog she needed to write and Jonathan’s Instagram were obliterated. Her mind was silent and her body was alive instead.
She absorbed the soft smell of his clean T-shirt as her hands traced down his chest. His rhythmic breathing helped to steady hers. Her mind carefully archiving memories of his strong hands cupping the back of her head, the last time her lips pressed against his, and then tearing herself away in slow motion. She wandered off into the night, feeling like someone who had just broken the surface of the water, gasping for air, after an interminably long swim.
Chapter 7
‘Has anyone seen the batteries for the remote?’ Helen’s dad flustered. He bristled past her. It was a rhetorical question, not one intended in any way to acknowledge her existence. There was always something out of place; the Chromecast, Alexa, Netflix, some other phantom household member was always disrupting his carefully cultivated system. She was used to his reaction: wild gesticulations, and doors being shut unnecessarily loudly. Henry just rolled his eyes.
Helen sat at the kitchen counter and kept flicking her iPhone screen open and shut.
Her parents’ kitchen hadn’t changed in thirty years; they still had the same nineties mahogany units and blue frosted tiles she remembered from her childhood, the same chalkboard to write down what was needed in the weekly shop and the same mismatched mugs. Above the microwave her mum had hung up a sign saying:
Mother’s B&B Services include: laundry, personal chef, chauffeur, psychologist, tutor, nurse!
Open 24/7, all year long! Gifts and thank you notes appreciated.
Henry had bought it for her as a Mother’s Day present when they were teenagers.
Henry was in his version of a bad mood. He was even less communicative than usual and answered any entreaties to conversation with a series of grunts.
Helen had made it home, but by the time she floated through the door at midnight, the dishes from dinner had already been stacked in the dishwasher and she had spectacularly missed the long-diarised meeting with Henry’s girlfriend.
She knew cancelling last minute on their family dinner wasn’tgreatbut also felt Henry could really have cut her a bit of slack: all she wanted was some of what he already had in spades, a cosy relationship, domesticity, routine like a metronome.
