Goodbye Ruby Tuesday (26 page)

‘You know, I have no doubt you’re the smartest woman I know. The smartest person I know, in fact.’ He grinned, ‘So how is the gallery set-up going? Chels said you were doing it in memory of an old friend?’ Kit asked, turning his attention back to them.

Evie looked at Chelsea meaningfully, and she nodded in return. ‘Ruby, yeah. We knew her when we were teenagers, and then she went off and became a star. She remembered how each of us was into the arts, and wanted to help us create something.’

‘What did you do Chels?’ Kit asked, ‘No offence darling, but I’ve heard you at karaoke after a few too many martinis.’

‘And she can only draw stickmen,’ Mollie supplied mischievously, and Chelsea stuck her tongue out.

‘I was a
dancer
, actually…’ she turned towards Kit ‘… I was a ballet dancer when I was a teen, but I gave it up at uni. It was a big fish, small pond thing.’

‘I bet you’re still wonderful,’ Evie said, placing a cafetiere of coffee on the table. ‘I was so jealous of Chelsea. She could just
move
. It didn’t matter if it was jazz, tap, urban dance,
anything.
She could just… it was like her body was expressing emotion.’

‘Yeah, exhaustion and irritation,’ Chelsea rolled her eyes.

‘Miss Bennett was so sad when you dropped dance.’

‘Somehow it didn’t quite sit with the super big brain thing I was going for,’ Chelsea sighed, ‘and when I got to Oxford, well, I just wasn’t as good as everyone else, and I got busy with studying.’

Mollie looked over at Kit, ‘When we were kids, we said we’d create this arts centre, and I’d do drama classes for young kids, and Chelsea would teach them to dance, and Evie would get them painting and creating. We wanted to make a place for kids like us.’

‘Kids like you?’ Kit asked, turning to Chelsea.

‘We were the bad girls,’ Evie jumped in quickly, and Chelsea threw her a grateful look.

‘I can’t imagine that,’ Killian said sarcastically, and Evie elbowed him. ‘Well,
you
, I definitely can. All that rage. But these two are charming.’

‘Actually, I wasn’t a
bad
girl necessarily. I mean, apart from the teen pregnancy,’ Mollie smirked into her wine glass, looking more relaxed than she had for ages. ‘But I was invisible. No one remembered me. And there was a girl called Millie who was a proper terrifying bitch, and people used to get me confused with her.’

‘Oh my god!’ Chelsea clapped her hands, ‘Millie Tomkins! I’d forgotten! You remember that time she’d knocked out one of the local girls’ front teeth, and they sent a gang of girls to the school and found you!’

‘My god! What happened?’ Kit leaned in, intrigued.

‘Evie,’ Chelsea and Mollie said in unison, and laughed.

Evie looked at the ceiling, ‘I had some rage issues at school.’

‘You know in Scooby Doo, where they have to hold back Scrappy while he’s going “let me at ‘em”?’ Mollie laughed, ‘It was like that. Except with more swearing.’

‘I have mellowed! I meditate, I’m mindful!’ Evie argued, ‘Besides, I stopped those bitches flattening you!’

‘My valiant protector!’ Mollie clutched at her chest, laughing.

‘I’m surprised that wasn’t you, Chels. You’ve got a… valiant streak,’ Kit added carefully, grinning at her.

‘Oh Chelsea just had a big mouth. She could scare you without lifting a finger!’

‘I know that feeling!’

‘Oi!’ Chelsea hit his chest, ‘I am
very
good at my job for exactly that reason.’

‘And I wouldn’t have you any other way, my darling.’

Chelsea seemed to glow when she looked at him, and Evie could understand why she’d made the little amendments to her history that she had. Why would she mess it up now, just to talk about her scummy stepdad, or her actual dad being in prison, or the mum who had been on Jeremy Kyle twice? Maybe Evie was just making excuses, because at least they were included now, they were part of Chelsea’s past that had met her future. She didn’t feel so left out any more.

‘So, how long have you two been together?’ Kit asked Killian, who choked on his wine as Evie slapped his back. Mollie giggled to herself, drowning the noise in her wine glass.

‘Well, honey, what would you say?’ Killian turned to Evie, putting an arm around her, ‘How many years has it been? The time just flies by when you’re having fun.’

Evie bit her lip, thinking hard, ‘Well, snookums… I think
officially
it’s been about six hours?’

They collapsed into giggles, looking at each other, and Evie could feel Mollie and Chelsea exchange a look, but she didn’t care. She just cared that she had an arm around her waist and since that afternoon, she’d finally felt like she could breathe again.

Kit snorted, ‘I just made that very awkward, didn’t I?’

Killian shrugged, ‘Nah, we only stopped hating each other a few weeks ago. This is definitely preferable.’

‘I thought you enjoyed being an absolute arse.’

He shook his head, ‘
Way
too much effort. Now I can just annoy you naturally, instead of working hard at it.’

‘Good to know,’ Evie rolled her eyes, but leaned into him anyway, shaking her head.

The evening passed more pleasantly than even Evie expected, the talk flowing as fluidly as the wine. Mollie looked more relaxed than she had in years, her hair flowing around her shoulders, cheeks red as her lips. She’d just came back from checking on Esme when Kit blindsided her.

‘What about you, Mollie?’ he asked, ‘Are you seeing someone, or have I finally found someone lovely to set up with my single mates?’

‘Kit, Jesus!’ Chelsea elbowed him and looked at Mollie in horror, ‘Sorry Moll!’

‘Kit, if you think any of your posh lawyer friends would even
look
at a single mother who lives above a gallery and works in Greggs, whose only advantage is currently being the right side of thirty, well, send them my way. But I think we’ll all be waiting a
long
time.’

She finished off her glass, as the rest of the table looked at her in silence. ‘I’m joking,’ she rolled her eyes, ‘it was a
joke.
I mean, it’s true, but still, funny.’

‘Moll, you’ve got
loads
going for you,’ Evie frowned. ‘You’re talented and gorgeous and a great mum–’

‘Yes, I’ve heard mothering skills rate highly on Tinder.’ She rolled her eyes.

‘You’d be surprised.’ Killian said, then watched as everyone’s eyes zeroed in on him. He put his hands up, ‘Shutting up now.’

‘Mollie, I assure you, any number of my friends would take one look at you, and would ignore any… complications, baggage or limitations you come with,’ Kit said smoothly.

‘That’s… nice?’ Mollie half-laughed, ‘Look, I’m not in that place right now. I’m focusing on limiting the number of burns I get at work to one a day. And you know, Esme will start wanting a dog soon, and that will take up time…’

‘We’re not getting a dog,’ Evie said.

‘And that sounds like avoidance,’ Chelsea frowned.

‘It absolutely is, and I don’t want to talk about this any more,’ Mollie filled up their wine glasses. ‘I give you permission to bug me about this in three months’ time. So can we continue having a good evening?’

Evie shared a look with Kit as they watched Chelsea wrestle with the idea of letting go an argument she knew she could win. Irritation, followed by determination, and finally acceptance crossed her face.

‘Three months,’ she confirmed, tapping her glass against Mollie’s.

Eventually, around two a.m., Chelsea and Kit called a cab and after much hugging and air-kissing, they disappeared downstairs, giggling and tripping as they went. Evie and Killian started washing dishes, insisting it was only fair as Mollie had cooked. She waved her hand tiredly, ‘Just throw the fuckers into soak and we’ll deal with it tomorrow.’

‘It probably wasn’t smart, doing this the night before the opening, was it?’ Evie asked suddenly, and Mollie grinned.

‘Absolutely not. And yet, it is very us. And I’m pretty sure Ruby would approve.’

Evie snorted, ‘Sleep well honey.’

Mollie paused, looking at Killian as he dried the plates and stacked them in the cupboard. She flung her arms around him as he still awkwardly held the dishtowel, and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

‘I like you,’ she said with a determined nod of her head, ‘you’re a good egg. You can stay.’

‘Wow… thank you?’

‘You’re welcome,’ she smiled, and walked off to bed.

Evie wasn’t sure she’d laughed that much in a long time. Her face hurt, and she clung to Killian, muffling the laughter against his neck. When she looked up, there were tears flowing down her cheeks, and Killian’s eyes were soft and loving as he looked at her like she was something amazing.

She sobered slightly, ‘What’s that look for?’

‘Don’t want you thinking about tomorrow and worrying.’ He traced her cheek.

‘Can’t do anything about it now, can only hope for the best,’ she shrugged.

‘Come downstairs.’ He carefully placed the remaining plates in the sink, and took her hand. Evie, for once, didn’t question anything. Instead, she just focused on the feel of his hand around hers, the rough skin of his thumb as it traced circles on the back of her hand. They wobbled down the stairs, giggling quietly, and Evie knew she was drunk the minute she tried to walk down those rickety steps. At least this time she was a happy drunk. And she was trying to go down them instead of crawling up them. There was an easier way to deal with stairs, she realised, stopping halfway down, and sliding down on her bum like a toddler refusing to deal with the harder parts of life.

‘You are…’ Killian started, but didn’t seem to have the right words.

‘Weird? Nuts? Crazy? Childish?’

‘Eloquent,’ he supplied, offering a hand at the bottom of the stairs to help her up, and taking the chance to pull her into his arms and kiss her, as if he’d missed her in all those hours he’d been sitting next to her. As if it wasn’t enough to simply be there, she had to be held by him, kissed by him. Her lips felt swollen against his, still reaching for more, wanting him closer even as he pulled away, breathing heavily, his eyes light in the darkness.

‘Come on.’ He unlocked his workshop and turned on the light.

‘Why are we here? You’re not one of those arty types who likes to get pissed and try to
create
are you?’ Evie thought back to art school and the boys who’d slope off halfway through a party to ‘commune with the muses’, as though they’d got their fix of human interaction and now had to return to their natural hermit state in order to make anything of value.

‘Are you mad, woman? I’d cut off my hand!’ Killian laughed, ‘No, remember the grand unveiling of the secret thing under the blanket in here?’

‘You said you’d show me at the opening!’

‘I think I said it would be
ready
by the opening… anyway, I wanted to show you now.’ They stood side by side in front of the mystery object, and Evie bounced on her heels in anticipation.

‘So, if you don’t like it, well… lie.’

‘Why does it matter if I like it? You said you have to learn to make things for you, and find your joy and all that crap.’ She smiled at him openly, feeling childish and giddy just looking at him.

He smiled softly, stroking her cheek, ‘Because I made this for you.’

He walked past her to pull off the red blanket dramatically, and Evie had to take a minute to stare at it, head tilted to the side. It was a honey-coloured wood, and it was round, but beyond that, she was uncertain.

‘It’s… beautiful. What is it?’

‘What do you think it is?’ he asked, humour in his voice.

‘A… cat bed?’

Killian rolled his eyes and shook his head, ‘
Yes,
Evie, I made you a
cat bed.
’

‘Weirder things have happened!’

‘Name one!’

Evie didn’t even have to think, grinning triumphantly, ‘A boy I was seeing at art school made me a headstone. With my name carved into the stone.’

Killian’s jaw seemed to slacken, and he nodded slowly, ‘Right… okay. Well, this is not a cat bed. It’s an Evie bed.’

She looked at it more closely, a circular mattress with a wooden raised edge all the way around, and a wicker ‘hood’ over it, that Killian folded down like the roof of a convertible car. Evie looked back at him, still unsure.

‘Look, get in, I’ll show you.’

She climbed in to sit on the massive grey cushion, and felt as Killian bundled in next to her, wiggling until she moved over. He pulled the roof back over them, so they were covered but looking out on his workshop.

‘This is very soothing,’ Evie whispered, enjoying the softness of the cushion and the darkness that surrounded them, keeping the light out.

‘There’s one more thing,’ Killian said, leaning forward to the entrance and popping out a piece of wood. ‘See – it’s a table? And notice all the little pockets around the edge of the bed? And on the outside, in the base are drawers.’

Evie looked at it all, and then back at him as he grinned. ‘You still don’t get it, do you? You said you wanted somewhere to make your jewellery, and then fall asleep without destroying anything. That’s what I made. A jewellery-making-Evie-cat-bed.’

He was proud of himself, chest puffed out like he was a genius, and the more Evie looked at it, took in the softness of the cushion, the detail in the baskets, the huge circular drawers underneath, she had to admit, he
was
a genius.

‘Killian, this is… it’s fantastic! It’s too much, way, way too much, but… wow…’ She lay back and stared at the delicate chinks of light that filtered through the hood, giving the space between them a soft, grey glow.

He lay back next to her, looking up as well, ‘So you’re pleased?’

‘I’m… I don’t even know what I am. Except drunk, and you’re being too nice to me and I might cry.’

He laughed, grabbing her hand and pressing it to his lips, ‘Not the angry girl Evie Rodriguez? Surely she doesn’t cry!’

She rolled over to look at him, those bright eyes still shining in the dull light, waiting for her to say something silly. ‘You are the sweetest person.’

‘Oh no, you’re not going to tell me we have to be friends now, are you? I’ll go back to being mean, I swear!’ He grinned, ‘No one ever wants the sweet guy.’