“I see.”
But she can’t. Not really. But then a thought hits me. I think I know where she’s going with this.
“Look, if you want me to sign an NDA, I absolutely understand.” Because no one should have their dirty laundry aired in public.
“No, Holly,” she says with a sad smile. “That won’t be necessary but thank you. For everything. Well, I suppose I’d better go and make sure the monsters are ready for school.”
“Sure!” I reply with the kind of perkiness that only comes with force.
Isla pauses as we reach the door. “I have a call this afternoon with Sarah from the agency.”
“Oh, cool.”
“I’m sure,” she says, touching my arm once more, “it won’t be long until you’re able to move on.”
And I should be happy about that, right? So, like an idiot, I smile.
“One other thing.” Out in the hallway, Isla turns back to face me. “Griffin seems intent on staying, too. Not that I think that will make much difference to you.”
“Nope,” I answer. “None at all.”
“Uncle Sandy says Batman has invited us over for a party next weekend,” Archie pipes up from the back seat of Isla’s Range Rover a few days later. “It’s next Saturday.”
“He means Dylan Duffy,” Hugh corrects with an air of long-suffering. “Mummy said the invitation included your name, too.”
“It did?” I ask, glancing into the rear-view mirror. Hugh nods. “So, is it Alasdair’s birthday or his brother’s?” I can’t recall the name of the younger boy.
“No, it’s not a birthday party. It’s a grown-up one, but we were invited because Alasdair is allowed to invite two friends to sleep over the same night. We’re going to watch movies and eat popcorn.”
“And play Minecraft all night!” Archie adds.
“You’re not supposed to tell. It’s a secret,” Hugh chastises.
“Holly won’t tell,” the younger boy retorts, unfazed. “She didn’t tell on you for chopping off Apollo’s head.”
“It wasn’t Apollo. It was a statue of Apollo.” Leaning over, Hugh squeezed his brother’s knee.
“Enough of that,” I say, using my stern teacher voice.
“And she took the blame for it, too,” Archie responds, punching Hugh in the arm.
“Do I have to pull over and call your mom?”
“No!” they respond in unison.
“Sorry, Hugh,” Archie mutters.
“Me, too. And I’m sorry Uncle Sandy blamed you,” he adds, his eyes meeting mine in the mirror again. “I’m also grateful you didn’t blab.”
“Snitches get stiches,” I reply with a laugh. “But that’s not true,” I add in a much more sober tone. I’m not talking to Wilder the rugrat here, but the little men I’m supposed to be setting a good example for. “You really shouldn’t hide things from grown-ups. Not the important stuff, anyway.”
“Are popcorn and movie secrets important?” Archie asks.
“Well, friend, I guess that secret won’t say secret for very long. Not when she has to deal with a couple of cranky pants the next morning.” Unless she’s expecting me to look after them that night and the following day. But I can’t see that being the case.
“I wonder what the grown-ups will be doing at their party,” Archie ponders, staring out at the fields of sheep we pass.
“Holly can tell us afterwards,” answers Hugh.
“I think I’ll be eating popcorn with you two.”
“No, you’re not that lucky,’ he answers sagely. “Because I heard her telling Uncle Sandy not to bother you, that she would tell you.”
“Tell me what?” My brows pull together.
“That your name was on the invitation. That you’ll have to wear makeup and high heels and a fancy dress.”
“She said all that?”
“No, I was just warning you that’s what you’ll need to do. It all sounds very boring.”
Confusing, more like. Why invite me? But I guess it gives me something to look forward to, apart from Archie and Hugh’s upcoming school holiday and the extra work that will bring. I push out a huffy breath, silently acknowledging that I’m just being cranky this morning. But it’s been a strange week. As planned, I’d mostly confined myself to my room when I wasn’t working. The school runs in the morning and afternoons, donning my long brown skirt and becoming Miss Boo in between. I’d made afterschool snacks and supervised homework before handing over the kid-watching reins to Isla and hurrying off to my room. I’ve barely set foot in the kitchen after the tepid welcome I’d received at the weekend. I’d called my sister a couple of times, but she was in no mood to chat. I’d read and watched TV and basically lived like a hermit. Without the inclusion of a cave.
The week had passed by like any other. Busy, busy, busy!
And frustrating, frustrating, frustrating, because I’d expected Alexander to interrupt it. And he had not. Which leads me to think his attention span was even shorter than I thought.
So much for I want you. I’m willing to wait.
Men. I just don’t understand them. Including the two in the back seat who begin to argue over some piece of Batman trivia.