Page 101 of When We Are Old

“Jackson again? I thought he and Ana— Do you know what? Don’t worry.” I shot her a shrewd and language reading glance, coming up blank as usual. “You can talk to me, Han, you know that?”

I tried very hard not to let it rankle that the last two nights when Matthew had rung, she’d spoken to him at great length first, and then to Jack, which seemed an almost senseless conversation if you asked me. Or maybe I was just jealous because Jack didn’t ask to talk to me.

“I know, Mum. Do you want me to cook tonight?”

I nearly fell over. Face down, shock attack. “That would be nice. Maybe check Nonna hasn’t got yoga.”

Hannah grinned and I shook my head trying to remove the images of my mother in Lycra. “See you later, Han.”

“Bye, Mum.”

Okay, that wasn’t too bad. Things were significantly calmer.

On the drive to the station and the subsequent train ride, I thought of the blue box in my knicker drawer. It’s not that I wanted to keep secrets from Matthew. It was just, I wanted it to be right, and for us to be together. Initially, while we were away it seemed a bit too soon to create a whole drama about something that might not be.

That was days ago, and my period still hadn’t shown up.

Maybe I was just scared of how he’d react?

I guessed we both thought that part of our lives was over.

Maybe I was just chicken shit—well that’s a well-known fact.

“Here she is.” Natalie wheeled herself around from behind the reception desk.

“Don’t make it sound like I’ve been gone for years when it’s been two weeks.”

“Two whole weeks, Ronnie. Are you impressed the place is still standing?”

I glanced around. I thought I’d feel a ping of happiness at walking out of the glass lift and into my own domain, but strangely, it didn’t arrive.

“Boss lady.” Fred sauntered out of my office and rested up against the doorframe, his gaze guarded.

“What are you doing in there?” I said and pointed at my office door.

“I figured it was easier to use your office, that’s all.” He shrugged.

“Oh.” I sounded like a petulant child. “Did you enjoy the big boss chair?”

“It fit my arse like a dream.” Fred’s shoulders dropped and he shot me a smile. His hair seemed neater, shorter maybe. His jeans were still skinny, but his T-shirt had been replaced by a smart grey shirt, tucked in, and a thin belt. Geek Chic smart, I guessed.

I glanced down at my own navy suit. I still looked like a lost librarian. Not exactly the rocking artistic type with a cutting-edge branding company.

“Shall we catch up?” I pointed at my office. Was I asking permission to enter my own room?

“Sure.” He pressed away from the doorway. “How was your break?”

“Um, interesting.” I pushed a hand though my hair. “Kind of very interesting.”

Fred, with the shrewd gaze of a killer eagle, glanced at my left hand. “I’m thinking that’s a poetic sentiment.”

“Ooooh, uuuh, yeah.” I pushed past him into the office and switched on the desk fan, leaning down into the cool jets.

“You okay, Ronnie?”

“Yep? You?”

Jesus. My talking problems weren’t totally fixed.