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‘Okay,’ Charlotte says. ‘Go upstairs and climb into bed with Daddy. He’s asleep, so can you please be careful not to wake him? I’ll be up soon.’
‘Okay,’ Molly says, instantly chirpy again as if someone flicked a switch on her mood.
I take a deep breath as Charlotte and I watch Molly leave the kitchen, neglecting to close the door behind her.
‘Daddy,’ Molly calls at the top of her voice ascending the stairs. ‘Daddy. I’m coming. Daddy.’
I muffle a laugh at Molly’s ability to royally misconstrue Charlotte’s idea of silence and wait for Charlotte to turn around and tell me off over the whole muffin thing.
Charlotte waits until we hear voices upstairs before she closes the door and turns around. She looks me up and down without words and makes her way to the table.
‘I’m sorry,’ I say. ‘I forgot the school’s eating policy was so strict. I never would have…’ I trail off, doubting Charlotte is listening.
Charlotte pulls a chair out from under the table and somehow manages not to make a sound. She sits.
A stagnant silence hangs between us for way too long and I wonder if I should start boxing up muffins so I can clean her kitchen, or join her at the table, or just piss off out of the kitchen entirely.
‘So, can I have one or what?’ Charlotte eventually says.
‘A muffin,’ I gasp, hating how startled I sound.
‘Is there a cinnamon one? I smell cinnamon, right?’ Charlotte elongates her neck and sniffs.
‘Yeah. Yes there is. Apple and cinnamon, actually.’
‘Will you have one, too?’ Charlotte asks. ‘I don’t want to sit here like a plonker scoffing a muffin on my own.’
‘Eh, yeah. I don’t usually eat when I’m baking. Always afraid if I start I won’t be able to stop. But sure. Why not? Will I stick the kettle on too? For coffee.’
‘Yeah.’ Charlotte nods. ‘But tea for me. I won’t sleep a wink after coffee.’
‘Okay,’ I smile. ‘Tea and muffins at 4 a.m. it is.’
Another silence descends. It’s still awkward but it’s bearable. The kettle rattles and hums as the water begins to boil and I slide a still-hot cinnamon-and-apple muffin onto one plate and place a coconut-and-raspberry one onto another. I open the drawer next to the cooker and take out a couple of knives. I make a tea and a coffee and shake my head, wondering what the hell I am doing. Charlotte doesn’t look over, despite me taking over her kitchen. I place everything on a tray I spotted resting behind the knife block and carry it over to the table.
‘Muffins.’ I swallow, setting the tray down in the centre of the table.
Charlotte finally looks at me as I reach for her cup of tea.
‘Sit down, Heather,’ she says, and I wonder if she means for it to sound like an order.
I sit.
Charlotte does the dishing out. Coffee and muffin for me. Tea and muffin for her. She gets the muffins right, which is impressive. And then she sits back, watches me and folds her arms.Jesus this is horrendous.I find myself glad that Molly has woken Gavin and I hope he’ll come downstairs to rescue me.
‘So, how’s the baking business going?’ Charlotte says.
‘Good, yeah.’ I nod overly enthusiastically. ‘They didn’t have enough muffins the other day so I’ve made more.’
‘I see that,’ Charlotte says, glancing over her shoulder at her kitchen countertops strewn with trays of cooling muffins.
‘I might have got a little carried away,’ I say.
‘Hmm.’ Charlotte smiles sympathetically and if it wasn’t for the look in her eyes that says,I wish you’d get out of my house, I might actually relax.
Another silence descends, thankfully broken by Gavin’s deep voice and Molly’s happy giggles, muffled as they rain down on us through the floorboards overhead.
‘So, Molly’s not going to school tomorrow?’ I say, slicing through my muffin.
