Catherine Miller

Waiting For You


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what she said before she even spoke. ‘Let’s just say they can be a bit messy and inconvenient. I think if Ben worked a bit nearer it’s something I might have pursued. But it’s not much good finding out you’re ovulating on a Tuesday, knowing you won’t see your husband until Friday night.’

      ‘Has Ben ever tried to find work locally so you’re not in this split-home situation?’ Leon arched his eyebrow as if it was trying to form a question mark.

      Fliss deemed the eyebrow was judging her and found herself giving it an evil stare. She wanted to talk about fertility, not her relationship, but then of course the two went hand in hand.

      ‘It would involve too much upheaval. Ben would have to take a pay cut or set up his own business. There’s barely room for my set-up so we’d need to move house so Ben could have a home office. We switched to this lifestyle so we’d have the best of both worlds and we have.’ Sort of. There Fliss went again trying to convince someone else that they lived the ideal lifestyle when she no longer believed it herself. ‘We have tried to synchronise Ben’s annual leave on occasions, but that hasn’t worked.’ Fliss shifted on her seat, the questions making her uncomfortable.

      Leon’s eyebrow remained raised as if making an assessment of everything she was saying. ‘I apologise for asking you this one, but it’s something I can cut out if you’re not happy with it. A lot of people may regard it as greedy to want a second child when you already have one. So why do you want another child?’

      Fliss studied the lawn borders. Would people really consider it to be greedy? Did Leon? ‘It’s difficult to explain, but I’ll do my best. Most of it is down to maternal instinct. Ever since Hollie was little I knew I wanted to do it again. It’s that special bond you create with that little person knowing they depend entirely on you and trust you implicitly. I know I’m lucky to have that bond with Hollie, but ever since she was small, I wanted her to also have a bond with a little brother or sister.’ She returned her gaze to Leon hoping that he understood. ‘The older she gets the more I think she’ll benefit from it. I loved growing up with my sisters and being in the middle. I always had someone looking out for me and someone to look out for. I still do. I’ve always thought Hollie would be a wonderful older sister.’ Fliss stopped at saying she wanted another child to fill the void. The loneliness that was becoming more overwhelming the more independent Hollie became. ‘Do you understand what I mean?’

      Leon’s eyebrow relaxed at long last. ‘I don’t have any children and I don’t think I want any.’

      It was Fliss’s turn to be judgemental. ‘What? You don’t want any? Surely you’ve thought about it?’ Fliss didn’t know anyone who didn’t want children. Didn’t have children, for that matter. Perhaps that was because her single friends had fallen by the wayside over the years; not intentionally – it just seemed to have happened like that.

      Leon shifted. His relaxed stance behind the camera became upright and tense. He looked like a horse ready to bolt, her question making him more than a little uncomfortable. ‘I’m not in the right set of circumstances to have children and I’m not sure I ever will be.’

      ‘And if you were?’ Fliss prompted, curiosity getting the better of her.

      ‘Then I’d think about it then, not before.’ Leon’s tone put an end to the subject.

      A cold shiver went along Fliss’s back as warmth left the garden with the breeze. His expression had changed. The soft edges of his face were now hard. She’d played the part of open book so well and, with a few questions, he’d closed his own front cover in her face. Clearly it didn’t work both ways. ‘Sorry I asked.’ Fliss no longer wanted to chat with him so readily. She’d been stupid to see him as some anonymous listener she could offload to without considering he’d have his own stance on wanting a second child. Or wanting any, for that matter.

      ‘No, I’m the one who should be saying sorry. It’s a bit close to home, that’s all.’ Leon brushed his hair away from his face.

      ‘Care to tell?’ Fliss studied his intense hazel eyes, which seemed to be saying so much when he was saying so little.

      ‘Another time, perhaps, and not in front of the camera.’

      ‘Oh.’ Fliss was again conscious of her decision to be on film. If Leon wasn’t happy to be recorded after convincing her to do just that, with what seemed like her best interests at heart, perhaps he was trying to get her back onboard again, nothing more.

      ‘Only because I like to keep my work and private life separate.’ The softness in Leon’s expression returned. ‘This chat should be all about you and what you’re going through.’

      Guilt blistered under Fliss’s skin at the pained glint in Leon’s eyes. There was something making him hurt that he clearly didn’t want to talk about and she was pressing him for details. ‘We can finish up now.’ Fliss didn’t want to carry on.

      Leon switched off the camera and sat on the patio chair once more. ‘Let me ask you one more question, just for fun.’

      ‘Okay.’ Fliss wasn’t too sure what it was going to be, considering his change in mood.

      ‘What items are under your bed?’

      ‘Pardon?’

      ‘Someone once told me you can learn a lot about a person by asking them what’s under their bed. So I thought I would ask you.’ Leon stared at her with an intensity that made her shiver.

      ‘Surely they meant as some kind of chat-up line, not as an interview question.’ Fliss tried to break the spell his eyes were weaving.

      ‘I’m not interviewing now, I’m being inquisitive. After all, surely what’s under the bed could relate a whole lot to the activity taking place on top of the bed.’

      ‘Exactly,’ Fliss said, slightly alarmed at how revealing her answer might be, her cheeks flaming at the thought. ‘What if I’m into whips and chains? The stuff under your bed is meant to be private.’

      ‘I know, and that’s why it’s such a good question. I should have guessed whips and chains were your kind of thing.’ Leon winked.

      A hot glow of mortification rushed through Fliss’s veins. ‘They’re not! I just meant I might have, but if that were the case I wouldn’t have brought it up as an example.’

      ‘What is under your bed, then? No lying to cover up your secrets. Here…’ Leon fiddled with the camera. ‘It’s off, so this is between the two of us.’

      ‘In that case, you should answer as well.’

      ‘Okay, but you go first.’

      Was Fliss falling for a trick question? He hadn’t been willing to share earlier, but now there was a spark in him that had caught her unawares. ‘There’s a lot of dust for starters. I can’t remember the last time I moved everything out and gave it a good vacuuming.’ Fliss tried to remember what was in the storage boxes under her bed. In view of his comments about whips and chains she certainly wasn’t going to mention the rabbit hidden underneath there. ‘A box with my hairstyling equipment. My weekend-away bag that never seems to get any use and a worry doll that was under my pillow and I’ve never bothered to retrieve from the floor.’

      ‘What’s a worry doll?’ Leon asked, his eyebrows in perplexed mode.

      ‘My sister Caroline gave it to me. It’s a tiny doll you’re supposed to pass all your worries to and then you pop it under your pillow when you go to bed. Doing that should help you sleep better at night.’ Fliss flicked her hair, aware that perhaps telling him about the rabbit would have revealed less about her personality.

      ‘And does talking to the doll help you sleep?’ Leon’s eyebrows maintained their quizzical stance.

      ‘I only managed to do it for a week and I didn’t notice any difference. I always wake up at slight sounds in the night. I think it’s because of being alone most of the time. Some primal instinct telling me I need to protect