You’ve done well for yourself this time, Jo.

Don’t mess it up.

Feeling a little more awake now, I stared at the computer in boredom. I’d done everything that needed to be done today. I glanced at the filing system. It hadn’t been looked at in a while and it always needed reorganizing. I grabbed my coffee and took it over to the filing cabinets, where I slowly began to work my way through the system. Sure enough, there were misfiles. Mine or Lucy’s? Probably both.

When Malcolm appeared twenty minutes later, he stepped out of the office alone.

His eyes warmed as they travelled over the length of me. I was wearing a black pencil skirt with a high waist and a pale pink silk blouse tucked into it. I wore black kitten heels so as not to tower over Mr Meikle. Malcolm sauntered over to me and I turned into him, not caring how unprofessional it was to let him kiss me. My lips tingled as he pulled back, his eyes drowsy with heat now. ‘We still on for shopping tomorrow?’

‘Of course.’

‘How about Saturday? Are you free? Becca wants to take us out to dinner as a thank-you to me for the gallery show and to you for getting Cam the job at the bar.’

I had to stop myself from tensing against him. ‘What? The four of us?’

Malcolm nodded, brushing a loose strand of hair behind my ear. ‘I could pick you up this time?’

I don’t think so. My throat almost closed up at the thought. Malcolm had never been to the flat. He’d never met Cole. And for now it would stay that way. ‘I can meet you there,’ I insisted.

He trailed his fingers down the thin fabric of my sleeve, as his lips curled in amusement. ‘I have to meet your family sometime, Jo.’

There was a part of me that was really happy that Malcolm was interested enough in me to want to meet my family, but there was this bigger part that wanted to erase all knowledge of London Road from his mind so he’d never be able to find the flat and my mum. Ever.

I feigned an enthusiastic smile. ‘Hmm. Soon.’

I didn’t know if he believed me or not, but he pressed a hard kiss to my lips that promised more of the same to come later and left me to the rest of my workday.

Cold latte in hand, I was still standing by the filing cabinets when Mr Meikle stepped out of his office minutes after Malcolm’s departure. I looked over at him warily. He just stared at me. Almost passively. Where was the glare?

Still staring.

Okay.

This is officially creepy.

Meikle cleared his throat. ‘I didn’t realize you were in a relationship with Malcolm Hendry.’

Oh, balls. Thank you, Malcolm! I cleared my own throat. ‘Yes, sir.’

‘For three months now?’

‘Yes.’

‘Well.’ He shifted, looking decidedly uncomfortable. I couldn’t help my eyebrows as they rose to new heights. I’d never seen my boss as anything but self-assured and pompous. ‘Well, then. I, um, well, I, um, appreciate your professionalism.’

Hold the phone.

What?

‘Sir?’

He commenced with more throat clearing, his eyes shifting around, unable to meet mine directly. ‘Mr Hendry is an important client.’ As his meaning dawned on me, his gaze finally met mine. ‘You could have used that to make your position here more comfortable and you didn’t. I appreciate your professionalism and discretion.’

It was the first time Mr Meikle had rendered me speechless because of something positive he’d said to me. Usually, I was choking back irritation at his high-handed arrogance and condescension. It was also the first time my boss had ever looked at me without a grimace or pre-emptive disappointment, as though, no matter what, he knew I would never live up to his exacting standards. I’d grown used to that look, so it was strange to be on the receiving end of a compliment from him.

I eventually found my voice. ‘I like to keep my personal business just that, Mr Meikle. Personal.’

‘Yes, well, good for you.’ His eyes filled with irritation. ‘Lucy is always chattering on about that fiance of hers. As if I have time to listen to such piffle.’ And with that he disappeared back into his office and I suddenly felt sorry for Lucy. Perhaps it was time to start leaving her smiley faces.

Cole had told me he had a presentation for English the next day, so I didn’t want to interrupt his work by asking him to make dinner. Instead, I texted him earlier in the day and told him I’d bring him home a bag of fish and chips. I got Mum a haggis supper just in case she felt like eating. I hurried home with the dinner since I’d bought it from a shop on Leith Walk and didn’t want it to get cold. As soon as I got in the door, I headed for the kitchen, switching on the kettle and pulling out plates.

Cole appeared in the doorway, his hungry eyes fixated on the fish and chips bag. ‘Can I help?’

‘Tell Mum I got her a haggis supper if she feels like coming out into the living room to eat with us.’

His eyes narrowed at my request, but he did as he was told. After that he sat himself down on the floor at the coffee table and waited for his food, switching the television to a comedy show.

I had just put the dinner out on the table, along with a glass of juice for Cole, tea for me, and water for Mum, when she appeared. The dark grey long johns she wore were actually loose on her, and she shuffled towards us as though she was in pain. She probably was.

She sat down on the edge of the couch, the bruised circles under her eyes so prominent I could barely take in anything else. She didn’t make a move for her food – she just looked at the plate with the battered haggis and chips on it. I pushed it towards her, chewing on a chip. ‘Dinner.’

At her grunt, I turned away and stared at the telly. My brother and I pretended to be watching the show, but I could tell by the stiffness of Cole’s body that he was just as hyperaware of Mum as I was.

Five minutes later the tension had only just begun to slowly drain from us as Mum managed to eat some of her food, even if it was at the pace of a moonwalker, when she ruined it.

Like always.

Focused now on the TV show, Cole had laughed at a joke and turned around to see if I was laughing too. He’d done this since he was a toddler. Anytime he found something funny, he’d look to me to make sure I found it just as amusing. I smiled at him as I always did.

‘Pfft.’

My muscles immediately grew rigid at the sound, as did Cole’s.

A ‘pfft’ from Mum was usually followed by something unpleasant.

‘Look at him,’ she sneered.

I was sitting on the floor like Cole, so I had to look over my shoulder to see what she was bitching about. My blood heated when I saw she was glaring at Cole.

‘Mum …’ I warned.

Her face scrunched up into a hateful, ugly expression. ‘Laughs like that fuckin useless bastard of a man.’

I shot a look at Cole and a burst of pain exploded in my chest at his downcast expression. He stared at the rug, as if trying to block her words out.

‘He’ll turn out just like his dad. A piece of shit. Looks just like him. A piece of –’

‘Shut up,’ I snapped, twisting around to face her, my eyes flashing furiously. ‘You can either sit here and finish your dinner in total silence or go back to your bed and drown yourself in drink. Either way, you keep your nasty, gin-soaked thoughts to yourself.’

Mum blustered incoherently and threw the plate on to our table, sending some errant chips flying. As she pushed herself up off the couch, she began muttering under her breath about ungrateful kids and no respect.

As soon as she had disappeared into her room, I let out a sigh of relief. ‘Cole, ignore her. You’re nothing like Dad.’

Cole shrugged, refusing to look at me, the colour on his cheeks high. ‘I wonder where he is.’

I shuddered at the thought of ever finding out. ‘I don’t care, as long as he’s far away from here.’