Total pages in book: 166
Estimated words: 160356 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 802(@200wpm)___ 641(@250wpm)___ 535(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 160356 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 802(@200wpm)___ 641(@250wpm)___ 535(@300wpm)
“That’s a real shame,” April murmurs.
“Yeah, a real shame.” Dec sighs. “My special friend was so excited.”
“You want to come and see the play?” Albi asks.
Fuck, what am I doing? “Yes.” Christ, I need to shut the hell up before I get myself into a situation I’m nowhere near prepared for. “See you, Albi.” I throw him a wave and get on my way, caught somewhere between dread and hope. I want him to take the bait for Dec. I don’t want him to take it because there’s no way in hell I can put myself in a pre-school full of four-year-olds.
When I make it all the way to the street, I turn and look back at the house. He didn’t take the bait. I hate that a small part of me that’s relieved. I would have figured it out somehow had he bought into my ploy, maybe declared a horrible sicky bug before we got to the school and made my escape before I had endless triggers thrown at me.
I pull my phone out when it beeps, wondering what the hell I’m going to do now. The message is from Thomas.
Sounds nasty. Half the office has gone down with some bug! Feel better. Hope you’re back soon.
I’m so fucking confused. He told me he wanted to fire me a few days ago, and now he hopes I’m back soon? Spinning the phone in my hand, I look up at Dec’s impressive house. Does this mean Thomas has abandoned his plan to sell up? I’d ask Dec, but he’s preoccupied with his reluctant prawn. So I quickly text him, wishing him luck and apologising for not being able to help, actually feeling quite defeated. Have I lost my touch? I could persuade Noah to do anything. A little bit of harmless reverse psychology. Make him believe he was the root of all happiness, which was easy because he was. But most of all, I didn’t want him to be afraid of anything. I swallow down the rising lump and get moving, but I make it only two steps when Dec’s door flies open and Albi appears at the top of the steps.
And he’s a prawn again. “I want to be the prawn, I want to be a prawn!” he yells, jumping up and down, the antennae dancing like a pair of over-excitable worms breakdancing on his little head. “I want to be a prawn!”
Dec appears behind him. “He wants to be a prawn,” he murmurs, almost hesitant.
My heart soars and sinks at the same time, and Dec’s apologetic face tells me he sees that. I blow my cheeks out and make my way back to them, feeling my legs getting heavier as I climb the steps.
“I’m a prawn again!” Albi looks so damn chuffed about that.
“I’m so happy you’re a prawn again.” I reach for an antenna and smack it, making it spring back.
Albi dashes back off into the house, and we watch him go. “It’s a lot,” Dec says, keeping me on the doorstep as if he’s half expecting me to decline his invitation to go back in. “I don’t expect you to come.”
I don’t know how I’m going to do this, but I must if we’re moving forward. “I know you don’t, but Albi expects me to come because I said I would, and that’s the end of that.” I take a breath and step back into the house, hearing him, the little whirlwind, dashing around like a prawn that’s had too much Red Bull.
“Well, now you two have everything under control,” April says, pulling her coat and fancy handbag off the chaise in the hallway, “I’ll be off.” She stops before us, half in her coat, and smiles. “I’m not going to get all mushy, but I really love this.”
I catch Dec shaking his head mildly, silently telling her to rein it in. It’s something else I hate. That he’s suppressing his happiness, curbing his enthusiasm because he feels it’s insensitive or I might crumple. That’s not how this should be.
I hook my arm through Dec’s and lean into him, now Albi’s out of sight, smiling my appreciation, even if it’s slightly strained.
“Take lots of pictures!” April sings, leaving and slamming the door behind her, a breeze swirling around the hallway as she does.
Dec immediately turns into me, holding my shoulders. “When I asked you to come this morning, I didn’t anticipate this. I wasn’t thinking at all, to be honest. It was stupid and insensitive.”
“Shut up,” I order gently, and he withdraws, surprised. “It’s okay. I’ll be okay.” I’m not sure how yet, but I’ll make sure of it. You got through yesterday, the hardest day of the year, so you can do this.
Albi comes racing out the kitchen with his lunchbox and a pack of mini Christmas Fairy cakes, and I quickly move away from Dec. “Come on, Daddy,” he shouts, tucking the cakes under his arm to open the door, surely squishing them.