‘I couldn’t ignore it.’
‘Why not? Who was it?’ Fliss failed to see why he couldn’t have rung back.
‘It was a work thing.’
‘I know, it always is, but I wanted to know what was so important it couldn’t wait.’ Fliss attempted to keep her voice low, not wanting to draw attention to the discussion while everyone was enjoying a post-lunch drink.
‘It was one of our clients. It’s a complicated underground build and it’s been having a few issues. As they were calling I knew it must be urgent.’
‘And was it?’ Fliss asked, still not satisfied with Ben’s answers.
‘No, fortunately not, otherwise I might have had to leave. It wasn’t me he needed to speak to to sort the problem out, it was the foreman. So thankfully I’m still here with you and the family enjoying the day.’ Ben took her hand in his and caressed it gently. ‘I’m sorry about the bad timing.’
Fliss sipped her tea, trying to let her frustration at the recent work intrusions on family life ebb away. ‘It just seems to be becoming a bit of a habit.’ This wouldn’t have been the first time a work phone call meant Ben had to make a swift exit.
‘Here.’ Ben took out his phone and pressed the side button. ‘It’s off. No more intrusions for today. I’ll have to start doing that more often at the weekend. They shouldn’t be calling me while I’m at home anyway.’
Maybe he was listening to her after all.
Mondays were Fliss’s least favourite day of the week. Just as they would get back into the swing of things with family life, it was time for Ben to head back to London. His work schedule determined whether he would go up on the Sunday evening or Monday morning. This weekend, after their discussion, he’d opted for the early wake-up call so they would have one more night together. It made for a long day as he’d managed to wake both Fliss and Hollie so a couple of hours extra entertaining her daughter this morning meant that this evening she was in need of an early night.
Before heading off to bed, Fliss carried out the usual weekday ritual of sending Ben a text summarising their day. It was hard to recall when the usual evening telephone call had been reduced to a text message, but it hadn’t been long after the house move. Hollie had been younger and, with the cottage’s low ceilings, more than once the calls had disturbed her sleep. So they’d switched to messaging each other and years on they were still texting rather than calling.
The message she typed out now was like a template for all the others.
Hollie had a good day. Two refurbished eBay items sold. Tired now. Sweet dreams xxx
What she didn’t include was the fact the show’s producer had called and wanted to visit tomorrow to assess whether her proposal was possible. Or that she kept thinking about Suzie’s pregnancy and having lustful thoughts about it being her. Little fantasies about enjoying the experience with her younger sister kept tantalising her daydreams. If only.
Fliss considered giving Ben a call to tell him how she was feeling, but there was far too much to say and she was too tired. And there was nothing to add to what she’d told him on Friday night. She’d tried to talk about their efforts for another baby and he hadn’t listened. He wanted her to wait six months, but she wasn’t at an age where she wanted to wait for half a year. She wanted to know now.
***
The instant they bundled into her cramped kitchen, Fliss regretted her foolhardiness.
‘Will there be enough space to set up in here?’ the skinny brunette said to the two blokes she was bossing about. She’d introduced herself as Carrie and since she’d been let across the threshold, she’d neglected to pay Fliss any attention.
Already Fliss was overwhelmed and wanted to send them on their way. If she put a stop to it she would be in control again. But then… How else was she going to get Ben to say yes to finding out what was wrong? And didn’t she want to know for herself?
‘What about the light, Leon? It’s very pokey in the kitchen. Perhaps if we opened the blind and this… erm, art gallery can provide the backdrop?’ Carrie arched an eyebrow as she took in the array of Hollie’s drawings that Fliss had never had the heart to throw away.
Carrie’s obvious disgust made Fliss regard the room with fresh eyes. Despite Fliss’s interior designer credentials it was her own house that was neglected the most. It was what some would call shabby-chic. Really it was all getting a bit shabby-shit. The kitchen area was cramped and more suitable for students who didn’t cook much. Underneath the stairwell that ate into the space, there were some chairs and a bistro-style table with a folded piece of cardboard under one leg stopping it from wobbling. The fine layer of dust covering most surfaces suddenly seemed thick and cloying. It was as if, when Carrie surveyed the room, everything that Fliss regarded as homely shrivelled up and shuddered. Even the yucca plant in the corner grew limp under her scrutiny.
‘You said this was an introduction so I could find out what was involved? I haven’t signed anything yet, so I don’t know why you’re testing light conditions?’ Fliss said.
‘I’m sorry,’ Carrie said, ‘I’m getting ahead of myself. Let’s talk about the whole project in more detail over a coffee. Mine’s black, no sugar. I’ll take a seat in the front room.’
Carrie walked past Fliss, not without inspecting the door smudges, and ventured into the lounge, no doubt to disapprove of its state without even moving her lips. Fliss spat on her cuff and scrubbed at the door with her sleeve, but gave it up as a bad job. If they were going to set up cameras here, she really would need to tidy.
‘Don’t let her put you off.’
‘Arghhh.’ Fliss jumped out of her skin.
‘Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,’
Fliss turned to see the Hottest Guy Ever – and she’d been too distracted by the kitchen hijack to notice. ‘I, er, you didn’t… I forgot you were there.’ And I wouldn’t be scrubbing doors with my own saliva if I’d known you were.
‘She’s a bit like a robot. No human emotion.’ Hot Guy went to pull on the blind cord.
‘Don’t…’ Fliss said. ‘It’s broken.’ She bit her lip as the little white lie escaped. The truth was no one had touched the blinds in ages and she was scared a tornado of dust would overtake the room. The decision to enquire about this programme was beginning to seem like a bad idea. What with Hot Guy poking around her kitchen and Miss Efficient casting an eye of disgust over her home, backing out was the only reasonable thing to do. She’d emailed on a whim in a silent protest against her husband. She’d sent the message off to the programme admitting her husband wasn’t willing to participate, but she’d asked if there was any chance they would consider just her. Never in a million years did she think they’d turn up talking about setting up without even explaining to her what was happening.
‘But she’s not as bad as she comes across.’ Hot Guy broke into her thoughts. ‘I know she seems brash, but it’s because she’s concerned about getting it right.’
‘Really?’ Fliss asked. ‘You don’t sound convinced.’
Hot Guy hesitated and Fliss wondered whether she should take this opportunity to stroke his biceps. She really did need to get out of the house more.
‘That and she’s eager to head off on her ski holiday. So she’s worse than usual, but I don’t want you to be put off by her,’ he said, peering through his mop of long hair. ‘This project is a great opportunity for you.’
Fliss’s throat dried. His hazel eyes fixed on her as if he knew everything. As if she were transparent