Katie wandered home. She had no lectures that afternoon, and no idea what she might do with herself. Angel had a lab and wouldn’t be back until dinnertime. She had to pass Abramo’s, the Italian restaurant, to get to her front door. And since she had nothing but time, she slowed her pace, hoping to spot Sergio through the plate-glass windows.
He was there, behind the bar, head down, reading a newspaper. Without meaning to, Katie stopped walking. The thought crossed her mind that she’d be happy to spend the afternoon watching him read his newspaper. ‘Get a grip,’ she groaned.
As if he’d heard, Sergio raised his head and looked in her direction. Mortified, Katie pretended to be checking her reflection. She noticed a piece of paper in the restaurant’s window. Waiting Staff Wanted, it said. Enquire Within.
*
Erin lacked the energy to make lunch for the twins. She had lacked the energy for most things the past few days. Drinking a bottle or two of wine a day would do that. She decided they’d go downstairs for lunch in Abramo’s.
Mateo noticed Erin as soon as she walked through the door. ‘There she is,’ he said, ‘the best waitress I ever had.’
‘You’ve said that to every waitress who’s ever worked here,’ Erin smiled.
‘Nonsense,’ Mateo countered. He kissed her, greeted the twins, and ushered her to a booth. Erin had worked in the restaurant when she was a student. She’d known Mateo since he was the owner’s son, and Sergio was an annoying 7-year-old.
‘How’s Daniella?’ Erin asked. ‘And Millie?’ Mateo’s much younger second wife had recently had a baby.
‘Daniella hates me,’ Mateo laughed. ‘Millie’s an angel. Unlike this one,’ he added, nodding towards his son. ‘Sergio!’ he shouted, ‘Bring us a bottle of Pecorino!’
‘No,’ Erin said. ‘I can’t.’
‘Neither can I,’ Mateo replied with a wink. ‘Make room,’ he said to the twins, and joined them in the booth.
‘Maybe a small glass,’ Erin said.
*
In Dr. Tavish’s lab, Angel suppressed a smile. Dr. Tavish had just asked a boy called Fraser—sometimes it felt to Angel that they were all called Fraser—to tell the class what Hooke’s Law was. This Fraser had drawn a blank. Dr. Tavish had groaned in frustration.
‘What do they teach you in these schools? I could recite Hooke’s Law before I could read,’ he’d said. The class had laughed, less at Dr. Tavish’s joke than at the boy called Fraser’s humiliation.
‘Hooke’s Law states that the extension of a spring is directly proportional to the force applied to that spring,’ Angel said. Fraser glared at her. She grinned.
‘Thank you, Ms. Ugwu,’ said Dr. Tavish. ‘Could you remind the class the difference between tension springs and compression springs?’
‘Compression springs are designed to become shorter under load. Tension springs are designed to become longer,’ Angel said.
‘Yes,’ said Dr. Tavish. He took a step towards her. ‘Your curls, Ms. Ugwu, are a perfect example of tension springs.’
He reached for one of Angel’s curls and pulled it straight. Ryan was standing on the opposite side of the class. Angel’s eyes met his. She couldn’t read the look on his face. Dr. Tavish let her curl go, and it bounced back into place. ‘See?’ he said. The class laughed.
*
Jemma and Holly bundled up and left the flat for a walk in the late afternoon sun. They linked arms and headed down Pechey Terrace towards Leamington Walk.
‘The biggest question is whether we want the baby to know their biological father,’ Holly said. When Jemma didn't respond, she continued, ‘I’m leaning towards using an anonymous sperm donor.’
They had talked earlier about which of them should get pregnant. Holly was worried by the NHS suggestion that the younger of two female partners should carry the baby, since their eggs would be ‘fresher’. Jemma, at 31, was three years younger than Holly. To Holly’s relief, she’d demurred. ‘I’m sure your eggs are still fresh,’ she’d said.
Jemma stopped walking. The sky over the castle was clear and turning orange. She pulled out her phone.
‘Are you listening?’ Holly asked.
‘Yes,’ Jemma said. She snapped a photo. ‘Let’s take a selfie,’ she added, pulling Holly close. She kissed her cheek and took the picture.
‘What do you think?’ Holly asked. Jemma was uploading her photos. Holly watched her type a caption: sunset stroll with wifey. ‘Please don’t call me that,’ she cringed.
Jemma deleted the caption and replaced it with a string of heart emojis. ‘Happy?’ she asked.
‘Jemma, no,’ Holly replied, ‘I’m not happy. You’re not listening to me. I want to know what you think.’
‘About what?’ Jemma asked.
Read more at https://thelinks.substack.com
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