was the most ridiculous thing to be doing at this time, but after tossing and turning for hours she thought that perhaps talking about it would help her sleep. Having switched on the camera, she settled into her comfy chair and glanced at the viewfinder. Thankfully the darkness covered the fact her eyes were red and blotchy.
‘It’s happened again,’ Fliss started. ‘Another negative test. It’s not a surprise so I can’t explain why I’m upset.’ She fiddled with the strings on the hoody she’d chucked over her pyjamas. ‘My period was late which isn’t unusual given how irregular it can be. Sometimes I’ll have two in one month and none the next.’ Fliss stopped herself. What was she doing? Talking about things that she didn’t even discuss with her mother and recording them so they’d be televised to the whole nation. Somehow it wasn’t right and she was stumped by what to say next without exposing all that she held close. ‘I wish my body would behave,’ she confessed. ‘I wish it would stop giving me false hope. Even when there are no symptoms, like this time, I can’t help but think maybe. Just maybe. It’s like a trick I fall for every time. I’m so desperate I’ve become gullible when my body gives me a false sense of what could be. Only it isn’t. It never is and I’m at the point where I need to understand why. The sense of failure is beginning to overwhelm me. It was so much easier with my daughter. Accidental, almost.’ Fliss glanced at the ceiling and imagined the sleeping bundle above. Hollie would be fast asleep, but Fliss worried for a moment that she’d hear her mother’s confessions. That Fliss hadn’t expected Hollie to arrive so early in their marriage. Ironic, really. They’d been trying, but Fliss thought it would take months, and then they were pregnant before she’d had a chance to have her first period. Now, she wanted the same result so much it must be punishment for those previous thoughts.
‘Don’t broadcast that,’ Fliss said in a panic. ‘I don’t want my daughter thinking that she…’ wasn’t wanted. Fliss was unable to say it out loud. She’d already let too much slip. Hollie had been very much wanted; there had just been that brief period of doubt. ‘Never mind. I don’t know why I ever contemplated doing this. It’s stupid. Nobody wants to know about how useless I’m feeling. This was a mistake.’
Annoyed with herself, Fliss uncurled from her foetal position in the chair and went to switch off the recording. Only the camera wasn’t on. No red LED was lit up like when she’d sat down. Or so she’d thought. The early hours of the morning were playing tricks on her mind.
‘Can’t even get that right,’ Fliss said, as she thought about hooking her leg behind one of the tripod legs to take the damn thing out. If she couldn’t even manage a basic home video, then maybe this whole documentary idea wasn’t meant to be.
***
With Hollie packed off to school, Fliss went in search of Leon’s business card. After a rubbish night’s sleep, she was hoping to make a quick exit from the show and as this was the only phone number she had, she thought she might as well tell Leon and hope he’d still be able to put some business her way. She needed a filler, what with the Georgian mansion project continually being delayed by the building work.
Leon Stevens. Assistant Producer.
Swish. Fliss could do with getting herself some better business cards judging by this one. She dialled the number.
‘Yes.’ Leon’s opener was blunt. What happened to good old hello?
‘Hi, it’s Fliss. We met the other day. You came to my house with Carrie about the Baby Number Two show.’ She wondered how long she needed to continue before he would remember who she was.
‘Ah, yes. Are the videos going okay?’
‘No.’
‘Bollocks.’
Oh. This wasn’t quite what she’d been expecting. ‘And the thing is…’
‘You can’t quit.’
‘What? But you…’ Never let me finish my sentence.
‘I can come over this morning. Sort out whatever the problem is. Say, eleven?’
It was a rather bewildering conversation so Fliss said, ‘Okay,’ knowing that some things were easier to say in person.
***
Not able to get on with much work, Fliss took the chance to freshen up, securing her blonde ringlets up for a change. It was an hour later when Leon turned up, his designer stubble now beard-length and a stale odour making him somewhat less attractive than at their previous meeting, which was a relief. She could keep her pheromones under lock and key.
‘Everything okay?’ she had to ask. He looked a different person from the other day.
‘No one’s here, are they?’ Leon asked, his tired eyes glancing around the house then over his shoulder like someone was watching him.
‘No.’ Fliss crossed her arms, worried she shouldn’t have invited him in. Why did he look so worried? ‘So are you okay?’
‘No, not really.’ Leon brushed his hair out of his face revealing the shadows under his eyes.
‘What’s up? You look like you haven’t slept.’
‘Sleep has been hard to come by this past week. The damage to my flat was malicious so I’m staying on my mate’s sofa for the moment. It’s not exactly providing me with comfortable sleep and I’ve been a bit of an insomniac.’
‘No wonder you looked knackered. Let me get you some caffeine.’ Fliss led Leon to the kitchen. Against her better judgement, she decided to invite him in rather than push him and his haunted expression away.
‘It’s been one nightmare after another recently. If sorting out my flat wasn’t problem enough Carrie has broken her leg. Strapped up on traction in some French hospital somewhere. Won’t be fit to work for weeks. It means I’m now in charge of this project. I should be delighted, really. It’s not as if I liked the woman and I’ve been working towards promotion for ages, but the timing couldn’t be worse. Anyway, none of that is your concern and I’m here to sort out whatever your problem is. Please don’t quit.’
‘How did you know I wanted to?’
‘I could sense it in your voice. And I wouldn’t blame you with Carrie’s gung-ho attitude, but I’m in charge now.’ Leon smiled at Fliss and a shiver ran down her spine. He really was astonishingly good-looking despite being more dishevelled than at their first meeting. ‘So I’m hoping to convince you otherwise.’
Fliss was sure he could convince her of anything, but she wasn’t comfortable doing the diaries. ‘The video camera isn’t working. I tried to do an entry last night and by the time I was done the light was out. And even if it weren’t for the technical difficulties, I said something in my video that I didn’t want to. I revealed too much of myself and I don’t want the whole nation getting to know my innermost thoughts when they’re things I might not choose to share with my own mother or daughter. It’s made me realise this isn’t for me. I’m sorry, I know that’s not what you wanted to hear.’ She spewed it all out, scared he’d stop her mid-sentence.
‘Why did you apply in the first place?’
‘It’s a long answer,’ Fliss said. ‘I’ll tell you if you don’t go all judgemental on me. You never know, if the story is long enough it might help you sleep.’ Leon really did look like he should be tucked under a duvet.
‘Promise. No judgement. No nodding off.’ Leon gave his scout’s honour salute, proving his word.
Fliss hadn’t planned on inviting Leon in, let alone chatting with him, but his expression seemed genuinely interested. And she wanted to know more about his nightmare week. She’d noticed he was deflecting the conversation her way rather than elaborating on his own situation. ‘Shall we sit outside?’ Leon agreed so they took their coffees and sat on the patio chairs facing the lawn.
‘Are you sure you want to hear this?’ Fliss couldn’t work out