I shrugged. ‘What can I say, you are paying me to help you get a life.’
He burst out laughing. ‘Oh, I’m not complaining. It’s been my best month in years.’
Those words were a simultaneous salve to my heart and a punch in my guts.
* * *
As soon as the furniture was assembled and positioned in line with Connie’s diagram, Elliot went back to work, brushing off my offer of help. I stayed in the living room until I’d neatly arranged the controllers, headsets and other paraphernalia inside the new cupboards, and artfully placed the more attractive items like books and the new photo frames I’d bought on the shelves. I took a quick snap and sent it to Connie, with another message of appreciation, and scurried upstairs to call Seb. Building heavy furniture on such a warm day was a grunty, sticky, physical job. I’d tried my best not to notice Elliot’s flexing muscles, athletic strength and sheercapability, but it had been harder to ignore the prickle of chemistry that crackled every time we needed to squeeze past each other, or we had to crouch mere millimetres apart while one of us twisted the Allen key as fast as humanly possible so we could move apart again.
I wasn’t surprised to see my hair bristling with static after all that electricity in the room.
Dammit!
I was trying so hard to be friends with Elliot. To benormal.
If I had to start keeping away from him because I couldn’t get a grip on my guilt-riddled feelings, then things were going to get even more awkward and complicated.
Ilikedbeing friends with Elliot! I did my best to grab those stupid, out-of-date emotions and stuff them back in the past where they belonged, before calling my current boyfriend, the one I had real feelings for.
‘Hey, Jess. I’m just about to head off for my shift. Are you okay?’
Seb squinted down the camera. He’d let his hair begin to grow out, the floppy strands now tinged blond from the sun. His tanned complexion glowed with health and what I suspected was happiness. I’d never seen my boyfriend look so relaxed.
‘Yes, I’m good. I was just, you know, missing you. It’s been a while since we had a decent catch-up.’
‘Yeah, we should make time for a proper call, soon.’
‘So… when would be good? I thought we could make it a like a date. Get some food, take time to really talk.’
‘Um, yeah, that sounds amazing. I’m working long shifts for the next three days. Heading out with the boys when we next dock. Maybe… how about… Wednesday? Three o’clock your time?’
‘Right. I can do that. I’ll be at work, but I can take a late lunch in the staffroom, that’s not a problem.’
‘Oh, I forgot you’d be at work. No, that’s fine. We can rearrange.’
After toing and froing for a few more minutes it was clear that we would struggle to rearrange if we wanted a proper conversation in the next month. In the end I persuaded Seb to go with six on Wednesday, with the promise of plenty of messages in between.
‘You know I love you, Jess?’ he asked, after saying that he really had to go or he’d be late for work. ‘I miss you, every day. But this is helping, being here. I’m starting to feel like Seb again. I promise when I’m back, I’ll have been worth waiting for.’
‘I know. I understand. Take as long as you need. I’ll be here.’
Just be quick about it. I’m in a total mess, and I need you back.
* * *
Saturday, I did my best to keep a polite distance from Elliot, while at the same time being supportive when facing snarky comments from the parents who’d come to watch their kids’ team play the Harriers at home.
It was a pretty stressful afternoon. Casual friendliness was hard to maintain when both you and your fellow footballing coach were battling the urge to aim a ball at someone’s ignorant balls.
I stayed on at the pub for post-match chip butties, feeling that at least one of us should show some solidarity after yet another big loss, and knowing that Elliot wasn’t up to it. A glass of wine in the sunshine went some way to easing the inner urge to break something, as did watching the boys messing about on the play equipment, seemingly unscarred by the nastiness of earlier.
When I mentioned how positive the boys’ resilience was to Connie’s mum, she disagreed.
‘The reason they appear unbothered is actually heart-breaking,’ she explained. ‘They’ve grown to expect it. This is normal life for some of these children, being mocked for their differences. That’s why this team is so important and why we’re so glad that you’re there for Elliot. These boys need him, and he needs you. This grandma, for one, can’t thank you enough. In fact, let me start by buying you a drink…’
It was nearly six by the time I meandered home, having ended up staying until most of the team had left, with only a few dads looking as though they were settling in for the night. I was feeling warm and fuzzy enough that I might have stayed anyway, except when one of them offered to buy me another drink, he stepped into my personal space and winked, reminding me that my days of hanging out with drunk strangers were in the past.
Instead, I found Arthur proudly reclining on the new sofa, Elsa cosied up beside him. The room was unrecognisable from the week before. Seeing Arthur with Elsa was, I had to admit, equally as strange.
