Composite Creatures by Caroline Hardaker (best story books to read .TXT) 📗

lips that trembled as if she was about to speak. Instead, Eleanor boomed across the table, “So, when’s your little bundle of joy arriving?” Almost as soon as she said it she looked… twisty.

I looked to Art for confirmation. “In the second week of January. So, in nine days? We’re all prepared, I think. And don’t get ahead of yourself. It’s hardly a bundle of joy.”

Eleanor gave a little nod. “It’s joy of a sort though, isn’t it? My uncle’s never been better since he got his. It’s brought him so much relief.”

“Relief?” Rosa piped.

“Totally,” nodded Eleanor. “Complete relaxation. He’s had the greying three times now. He worries far less these days, about everything. You never read so much about that side of it. But it’s bloody important. He calls it his little matter cow. Odd really.”

“Yeah,” Rosa chuckled, “Odd. I don’t know much about it all, to be honest.” She raised her glass. “Maybe I’ll do some research.”

I wondered what I could and couldn’t say about it all. Instinctively I did a mental run-through of all the workbooks, contracts, and booklets. How confidential were the few details I did know? Art looked up at the ceiling and nodded wistfully. “Yep. It’s all going ahead, all official now. Norah and I are going to have to work even more at being a fully functioning couple. After all, a little life depends on it.”

The rest of the meal went as smoothly as I could have wanted it to, and Art’s casserole tasted full and fleshy. Aubrey kept quiet, and my worry that she’d bring up Luke or say something she shouldn’t finally started to ease off. I was fearless. I kept catching her eye but she’d always look away, focussing on Eleanor’s lips as she spoke, or Rosa’s fingers fondling the stem of her glass. I made a game of it, flicking my gaze at her when I thought she’d least expect it. Her expression was unceasingly difficult to read. A lot of the time she almost looked bored.

No one noticed the engagement ring when I dished out each course, or at least they didn’t say anything about it. As the night went on, it seemed so unlikely that they hadn’t seen it, that I started to wonder whether they had and just didn’t want to bring it up. One mountain moved is enough for one night. Every so often I’d catch Art’s gaze and he’d raise his eyebrows just a bit, pointing his nose at my hand as if to say, “Is it time? I’m leaving it up to you.”

Maybe it was the wine but I’d started to feel a bit smug that I had this secret, and it was a secret that none of the others had experienced yet. Luckily Art didn’t push it, he sensed that I was deep in some internal mood-swimming and he bowed out of the race to keep playing Mr Nice Guy.

I kept the wine flowing, but as faces around the table began to flush I kept a close eye on who was drinking the most. I tried to act like Art, who seemed to be in his element and not worried about a thing.

When I came back from checking on dessert with another uncorked bottle in my hand, Eleanor had everyone’s attention latched to her. Her own expression was blank, staring into her empty wine glass.

“What made you go?” said Rosa, leaning her head on her hand.

Eleanor craned her neck forward and curled her fingers into claws. “Well, I’m getting on, aren’t I? Got to count up those eggs if I want one to hatch.”

We all shook our heads and nodded at the same time.

“And,” she went on, “I know I’ve got a few problems. I want to know what they are.”

Aubrey reached across and squeezed Eleanor’s wrist. “Toes all crossed,” she said. “Everything crossed.”

Eleanor gave her a wink and then looked across at me. Our eyes met, and then after a second or two she laughed and said, “Does it sound stupid?”

I shook my head. Art was watching Eleanor with a strange little look on his face. I really wanted him to say something to her, to help. Something that I’d be proud of him for saying. But he just sat there, his brow creased, head tilted down. But when I pulled my eyes off him, I realised that everyone else was looking at me.

Rosa sighed. “What next?”

“Bloodwork. Ultrasounds. Slowly, slowly, all queues and little movement. NHS, obviously, but still – it’s haemorrhaging money. I’ve burned the surface off my credit card.”

“You’re born to it, Elle,” said Aubrey. “Millions are in the same boat. Even if you did need help, there’ll be something they can do. Look at the stuff you see on the news! If they can grow a thumb like a carrot in a test tube, I’m sure they can help you do what you’re made to do.”

Eleanor puffed out some more air. “It’s not the same though, is it?”

The kitchen timer went. The pie was ready.

I got up from the table and consciously made Art responsible for changing the subject. He was good at subtle. At gentle nurture.

Soon after midnight, Eleanor started to say she needed to make tracks. She headed to the hallway to call a taxi for herself and Aubrey, and a moment or two later Rosa followed her out, batting her eyelashes and determined to barter her way into the car share.

I was left sitting in the kitchen with Aubrey and Art, the pair of them stuck in a face-off over crumbs left from the night’s feast. I’d normally have said anything to break the awkward silence, but I’d lost interest in peace-making, and almost wanted to see them fight. Besides, it was too tempting to lower my head and cradle my face in my arms. Just for a minute. Maybe no one would notice.

But then it seemed that I blinked and Aubrey already sat in her purple parka, the front zipped up