Coming Around Again (11 page)

She lifted the mask. “Don’t know what you’re
talking about.”

“You’ve been annoyed with me since this morning.
What didn’t I do?”

“Why you want to have an argument with me at this
time of the night…” she complained, lifting a hand to pull the mask back down.
He stopped her.

“It’s not an argument. I haven’t raised my voice. I
haven’t insulted you. I’ve asked you a simple question and you don’t want to
answer me. The fortress of Stella can afford to open the gate a little.”

Guilt pulled at her features briefly, and she
reached for the mask. “Not now. Let’s sleep on it. Tomorrow it’ll be
irrelevant.”

With that, she turned her back on him and
apparently went to sleep.

For a long time, Niels stayed awake. Recalling
every moment in his marriage that led to his wife refusing to entertain a
simple dialogue with him. Something needed to be done. To protect his family
from the worst. Stella could manage alone. At every turn she made it obvious he
was surplus to requirements. She didn’t need him. And she certainly didn’t need
him to bring the thunderstorm of complications heading their way.

He could either save his home and children, or save
his marriage.

His plans couldn’t accommodate saving both.

“Stella, right?”

She turned to find the owner of the voice and was
pleasantly surprised. For a long time, she thought it’d be impossible to find
another man remotely attractive compared to the Dane, and yet in front of her
was his polar opposite. Shorter and stockier than Niels, the man had chocolate
brown eyes and dark hair that gave hints of red whenever he moved into the dull
autumn sunlight.

“Yes, that’s me.”

“I’m Alec, Philip’s dad.”

“Oh, right, yes, hi.” Another divorcee free from
the chains of marriage. To be truthful, little Philip’s dad—or McTasty, as he
was known in the school run circles—made for a good boost in the old ego
stakes. He rarely made the effort to talk to anyone, let alone any of the
vultures that meandered around him since he separated from his wife. “How’s
things?”

“Good; well, as good as to be expected. How are
you?”

Stella’s eyebrows angled in mistrust. “What can I
help you with?”

“Are you always so suspicious?” he said with a
laugh.

Pretty much,
she thought, going on
her tiptoes to look for the boys. “People normally only ever talk to me outside
the school gates when they want to either borrow something or have me
contribute to something. So…”

“Okay, okay.” He held up calloused hands in defeat.
“You did the makeup for the play a few months ago.”

“Worst decision ever,” she conceded. “All that hard
work, no reward.”

“And it’s Philip’s birthday coming up.”

“Here we go.”

“I just wanted to borrow your expertise. We’re
having a zombie party.”

Stella bit on her bottom lip. “Who’s we?”

“Me and Philip. It’s his idea. I stupidly let him
watch
Shawn of the Dead
and he’s become obsessed with it. I had to stop
him from watching
The Walking Dead
three times now, I’ve caught him out.”

“This is all very nice but I can’t…”

“You made a bunch of nine-year-olds look like
lepers for that Joan of Arc thingamajig. It was amazing. I showed a few
pictures to some friends and they asked if you work in film. So I know full
well, Stella. You can do zombies.”

Compliment. Compliment and compliment.
Sold
. She folded her arms and made an
apologetic face, as if she were about to refuse, but Alec leapt in. “If you
wouldn’t mind. I mean I’d pay for your time. And provide all the makeup for you
to do over the kids.”

“You know how much effort this will take?”

Alec gave a helpless shrug. “Philip’s put up with a
lot the past year. I just want to make this birthday fun for him.”

“Is his mother coming?”

His face turned cold briefly. “She’s on assignment.
Modelling in New York. We’re going to Skype her when we cut the cake.”

Of course he married a model. All that Celtic
lyricism had to appeal to the higher echelons of beauty in his vicinity.
“That’ll be nice.”

“You know Will and Danny are Philip’s favourite
people on earth, right?”

She had no idea, since McTasty only ever really
talked to Niels. The twins had so many friends, it was hard to keep track of
all of them. “That’s sweet. And Philip…” What was little Philip like? What did
she call him to remind herself who he was? “Short Stockings is a lovely boy.”

Oh crap, she said that
out loud
. “What now?”

“Oh dear.”

“You call my son Short Stockings?”

“I have a hard time remembering names, so everyone
gets a nickname and he’s so small and cute and red-headed, so of course I’m
going to call him a variation of Pippi Longstocking.”

Alec stared at her for a moment and then burst out
laughing, making all the female vultures around them narrow their eyes in
distaste and evident jealousy. “That is genius. I wish you hadn’t told me; now
I’ll end up calling him that.”

Stella winced. “Well. I said I’ve got a shocking
memory.”

“Really? Then what do you call me?”

Nah, son, not falling for that one.
“Hi, my darlings!” Stella had never been more
grateful to see her children. They glanced at each other on seeing their
mother’s overly enthusiastic reaction.

“We didn’t do anything,” Will ventured first. He
received a kiss for his troubles. Danny fended her off and demanded. “Did Mr
Croft invite you to Short’s birthday?”

Stella risked a glance to Alec, who looked even
more amused. “To help you lot look hideous, yes.”

“That’s Dad’s week, though,” Will interjected with
practicality.

“He won’t say no.” Danny glanced at Alec. “Is it
all right if my dad comes? He won’t stay, it’ll be just to pick me and my
brother up. And he won’t fight with Mum. Not anymore. They promised.”

“Daniel Strøm why are you putting our business on
the street?” Stella asked crossly.

“Not to worry, Stella. We’re all in the same boat
here. Give me your mobile and we’ll sort out a zombie trial.”

He handed over his phone and she tapped her number
into the contacts before handing it back.

“Danny, your dad and I have already spoken. He’s
picking you guys up.”

“Told you!” Danny declared, shoving his brother in
the shoulder.

“Well, that’s coordinated.”

Alec tucked his phone away. “You don’t mind, do you?”

“Niels and I are good. We can behave in public,
despite what my terrible children claim!”

“What? Muma, we’re the best children you could hope
for.” Will said solemnly before laughing with his brother.

“And with that endorsement…”

Alec held out a hand. “Nice to meet you, finally.
And properly.”

She gave his hand a brisk shake in return and
hustled the boys to the car.

“You know you can’t go out with him, don’t you?”
Danny stated as he buckled himself into the back seat.

“I beg your pardon?”

“You can’t go out with our friend’s dad. It’s
disgusting!”

“Daniel, I swear if you don’t shut up, you’re going
to be wishing for a different mother.”

“Nah. We like you.”

Disgraceful
, she thought putting the car into gear. How dare
her children censor her love life—severely lacking as it was. She couldn’t
survive on the teasing text messages from Niels. He’d clearly moved on with
that blonde piece from the restaurant. It was only fair she do the same.

***

Seven Years Married

“Muma, I’m bored!” Danny announced in the middle of
the vow exchange, in London’s most echoing church and every single member of
Stella’s family, extended and blood, turned to look at her and her sons.
Swallowing, she sent her mother and her aunt an apologetic smile. Big family
weddings had been blissfully absent from the Strøm lifestyle, until her first
cousin decided to get married and invite everyone. Stella supposed it stemmed
from her cousin’s determination to rub her relationship success after so many,
many failures, in the family face.

Niels was due back from a job stateside. While she
was impressed by the international aspect of his business, it made for
embarrassing and repeated excuses. It seemed to be a trait on her mother’s side
for being utterly smug.

“Clearly missing a male influence,” her aunt
sniffed, sending the twins a look of disgust.

“Auntie, why is your hair falling to the side?”
Will asked, face open with honest curiosity. Stella barely bit back a snort of
laughter.

“Shh!” the older woman hissed at all three of them
and with another glare, turned back to face her daughter. As soon as she
straightened her wig, the boys howled with laughter, causing the vicar to raise
his voice over the sound.

“Stella!” her cousin fumed.

With another apologetic smile, Stella urged the
twins up and outside to the church grounds. Danny removed his suit jacket and
twirled it in the air.

“Freedom!” he bellowed. “Muma, where’s Daddy?”

“Shush a minute and let me call your father.”
Stella pressed her mobile to her ear, tapping her foot and muttering
impatiently under her breath.
Hurry up!

“This is Niels Strøm. I am unable to take your
call. Please leave a message.”

“You son of a b-i-t-c-h, where the h-e-double-ll
are you? Call me!”

Danny eyed her as she tucked her phone back into
her bag and ran a calming hand over her temples. “Muma, why are you swearing at
my Dad?”

She stared down at him. “For your information,
Daniel Strøm, I am not swearing. He may well be your father, but he’s my
husband, and my husband is none of your business.”

Danny pouted. “All right. Don’t know why you’re
angry with me.”

She sighed. It wasn’t his fault at all. He was just
the convenient scapegoat for her righteous anger, since his father had other
things to do. Again. What she couldn’t stand was the muttering, the whispers,
the assumption that Stella the Overachiever had somehow failed in her
relationship. What else could she have done, other than tattooing how important
today was on her husband’s perineum? Where the fuck was he?

Will caught her dress in his fist and whispered,
“Can we get some food, please? Breakfast was ages ago.”

Knowing the wedding would run on Coloured People
Time, Stella had packed sandwiches, mini-cupcakes and juice boxes for the boys.
“Let’s have a picnic, my darlings,” she suggested, pointing to the patch of
grass in the centre of the church’s cemetery.

Danny balked instantly. “I’m not eating on dead
people.”

His mother shrugged. “Then stay hungry.” She caught
Will’s hand and made her way to the patch, then placed her bag down, draping
her silver pashmina over the soil so she could perch. Will sat cross-legged
opposite her, his face expectant. As soon as she handed over the ham, cheese,
and pickle sandwich to her youngest son, Danny came barrelling over and stood
by her side, hands on his hips.

“Yes, child?” she asked, a smile twitching at her
lips. He looked so severe, a miniature Niels. It felt like only yesterday he
was jostling for space in her tummy.

“What you got?”

“Speak properly.”

“Muma, what sandwiches do you have in your bag that
Daddy bought you because you were cross the other day?”

“Sit down,” she said, instead of slapping him for
rudeness. “Pain in the bum.”

“Do you have any tuna?”

“I do, because I know that’s your favourite.”

“With pickles?”

“And mayonnaise, yes.”

“Best Muma ever,” he said on a worshipful sigh,
taking the Tupperware from her and wolfing the bread down. “Are those
chocolates?” he asked, mouth full of tuna.

“Those are for me,” she said as she attempted
sternness. Today was supposed to be a nice day. No such luck.

“Is Daddy always going to miss things?” Will asked.

“What do you mean?”

Her youngest son exchanged looks with his brother
before venturing, “Well… He missed this. And it’s our birthday next month. Will
he be away, do you think?”

Lie
. “Your Dad loves you.
He would never ever miss such an important day, for anything. Ever. Don’t worry
about that, all right?”

Her son lowered his gaze with a nod, and continued
eating. Danny reached into her bag for her chocolates and she slapped his hand
away. “Don’t go into my bag. You know that.”

He sent her an irreverent grin and sat back down.
Eventually she handed him a chocolate. That face. Trouble. Just like his sire.

By the time they finished eating, the couple exited
the church, looking more grim than they had when they entered. Such a
difference from Stella and Niels on their wedding day. Happiness radiated from
them, even through photographs. In every single one, they only had eyes for
each other. Now he couldn’t even manage a family gathering.

During the three-hour wait between the ceremony and
food, Stella and the boys nibbled at the remaining goods in her Mulberry bag,
indeed a gift from Niels for missing the last event she needed him to turn up
for. The intake of sugar only made the boys restless and unruly. Stella simply
let them loose. She had no desire to tame them. For what? Let their father tell
them off.

Minutes into the Cousin of the Bride speech, the
dullest speech known to God and man, Danny and Will began heckling the speaker,
asking where the cake was and why it was taking so long to eat. As other tables
were allowed up to take food, music was played and the boys took it upon
themselves to be the entertainment, dancing on their chairs and Danny, Michael
Jackson-style, flipped his jacket back and yelled, “Party!”