that’s no fun at all.’
‘Kid’s got a point, Grumpy Pants. What did we ever do to you?’ Evie countered, arms crossed to match her goddaughter.
‘I don’t want things changing. I’ve got a good place to work and I intend to keep it. Evelyn’s a good woman, and I don’t want this place getting screwed, and her along with it, just because some dead diva with an attitude problem said her friends could use the space.’
Screw anger management.
Evie felt her jaw drop this time. Usually in these situations she’d see red, and she had to admit there was a little ruby fuzz clouding the edge of her vision, but that may have been a blood vessel popping from the shock.
Dead diva
!
What a bastard.
Evie breathed deeply, in through the nose, out through the mouth, listening for the rasp of air at the back of her throat. She clenched her eyes shut and imagined those words soaring away on a breeze.
‘What’s she doing?’ The arsehole’s voice permeated her calm.
‘Auntie Evie has rage blackouts. She’s working through them though, right Mum?’
Mollie grinned at Killian, eyes narrowing, ‘Right, baby.’
Killian threw up his hands, cried ‘Bloody lunatics!’ and stormed off, slamming his door behind him. Evie opened one eye to make sure he was gone.
‘You have to do that every time he says anything mean to you!’ Mollie laughed, clutching her stomach.
‘Which I imagine, from that charming interaction, is going to be a lot.’ Evie grinned, ‘What an arse!’
‘You might want to change your inflection – that sounded like a compliment,’ Mollie smirked.
‘That was a horrible thing that man said about Aunt Ruby,’ Esme said sternly, looking at the closed door with a furrowed brow ‘do you think he was in love with her?’
Mollie and Evie blinked and looked at each other, shocked at the little girl’s perceptive skills, but also scared about what that might mean. And just how possible it was.
‘Why would you say that, baby?’ Mollie asked, stroking a hand over Esme’s silky hair.
‘Boys are mean when they love you. That’s what the girls at school say. And all those movies.’ Esme shrugged, sighing at the terrible facts of life. Mollie looked horrified, and Evie made a face, ‘Hun, if someone’s horrible to you, it’s because they’re horrible. They can’t use love as an excuse. Maybe that man did love Aunt Ruby, but when you really love someone, you’re not horrible to them, okay?’
Esme shrugged, ‘Sure.’
‘I wish parenting would come with a bloody handbook about how to undo the sh–’ Mollie swerved, ‘
silly
things society teaches kids.’
‘Hey, we’ve fallen for it too.’ Evie shrugged, looking up at the narrow staircase, ‘So we’ve already met the troll under the bridge – how bad can it be?’
Two flights of winding, cramped stairs that seemed to get more uneven as you walked up, the threadbare carpet coming unstuck beneath their feet, and they were in the flat.
Apart from a faintly musty smell, it had a lot going for it. Light streamed through large bay windows, and there were skylights to enhance the effect. Whilst furniture was sparse, it was good quality. A solid coffee table and creamy sofa that Esme immediately sunk into. The kitchen had a breakfast bar, and each bedroom had beds with solid wooden bed frames. The bigger room had a four-poster bed with gauzy blue fabric floating from each corner, and Evie watched as Esme’s eyes widened with glee. The second room was even more sparse – a low bed set in a frame, close to the floor, that seemed to be made of pallets, sanded down until they seemed solid. Evie imagined the room with hanging canopies, and tea lights on the pallet edges, fairy lights beneath them. She could make this place magical.
‘So, what do we think? Can we make this home?’ she asked Esme and Mollie.
‘What do you think, Ez?’ Mollie directed the question at her daughter, anxious and unsure.
Esme beamed, ‘As long as we get
‘Kid’s got a point, Grumpy Pants. What did we ever do to you?’ Evie countered, arms crossed to match her goddaughter.
‘I don’t want things changing. I’ve got a good place to work and I intend to keep it. Evelyn’s a good woman, and I don’t want this place getting screwed, and her along with it, just because some dead diva with an attitude problem said her friends could use the space.’
Screw anger management.
Evie felt her jaw drop this time. Usually in these situations she’d see red, and she had to admit there was a little ruby fuzz clouding the edge of her vision, but that may have been a blood vessel popping from the shock.
Dead diva
!
What a bastard.
Evie breathed deeply, in through the nose, out through the mouth, listening for the rasp of air at the back of her throat. She clenched her eyes shut and imagined those words soaring away on a breeze.
‘What’s she doing?’ The arsehole’s voice permeated her calm.
‘Auntie Evie has rage blackouts. She’s working through them though, right Mum?’
Mollie grinned at Killian, eyes narrowing, ‘Right, baby.’
Killian threw up his hands, cried ‘Bloody lunatics!’ and stormed off, slamming his door behind him. Evie opened one eye to make sure he was gone.
‘You have to do that every time he says anything mean to you!’ Mollie laughed, clutching her stomach.
‘Which I imagine, from that charming interaction, is going to be a lot.’ Evie grinned, ‘What an arse!’
‘You might want to change your inflection – that sounded like a compliment,’ Mollie smirked.
‘That was a horrible thing that man said about Aunt Ruby,’ Esme said sternly, looking at the closed door with a furrowed brow ‘do you think he was in love with her?’
Mollie and Evie blinked and looked at each other, shocked at the little girl’s perceptive skills, but also scared about what that might mean. And just how possible it was.
‘Why would you say that, baby?’ Mollie asked, stroking a hand over Esme’s silky hair.
‘Boys are mean when they love you. That’s what the girls at school say. And all those movies.’ Esme shrugged, sighing at the terrible facts of life. Mollie looked horrified, and Evie made a face, ‘Hun, if someone’s horrible to you, it’s because they’re horrible. They can’t use love as an excuse. Maybe that man did love Aunt Ruby, but when you really love someone, you’re not horrible to them, okay?’
Esme shrugged, ‘Sure.’
‘I wish parenting would come with a bloody handbook about how to undo the sh–’ Mollie swerved, ‘
silly
things society teaches kids.’
‘Hey, we’ve fallen for it too.’ Evie shrugged, looking up at the narrow staircase, ‘So we’ve already met the troll under the bridge – how bad can it be?’
Two flights of winding, cramped stairs that seemed to get more uneven as you walked up, the threadbare carpet coming unstuck beneath their feet, and they were in the flat.
Apart from a faintly musty smell, it had a lot going for it. Light streamed through large bay windows, and there were skylights to enhance the effect. Whilst furniture was sparse, it was good quality. A solid coffee table and creamy sofa that Esme immediately sunk into. The kitchen had a breakfast bar, and each bedroom had beds with solid wooden bed frames. The bigger room had a four-poster bed with gauzy blue fabric floating from each corner, and Evie watched as Esme’s eyes widened with glee. The second room was even more sparse – a low bed set in a frame, close to the floor, that seemed to be made of pallets, sanded down until they seemed solid. Evie imagined the room with hanging canopies, and tea lights on the pallet edges, fairy lights beneath them. She could make this place magical.
‘So, what do we think? Can we make this home?’ she asked Esme and Mollie.
‘What do you think, Ez?’ Mollie directed the question at her daughter, anxious and unsure.
Esme beamed, ‘As long as we get
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