Page 41 of All Mine (The All Mine #1)

Isabella

Girl Gang WhatsApp group

Rosie : Anyone fancy Story Stars tonight?

Wren : Fox is reading so the yummy mummies will be here.

Amber : Can’t. Am training the squad on card machines.

Isabella : Can’t. Am doing my food hygiene certificate online with Nonna.

Rosie : Jesse gone?

Isabella : Jesse flew to Paris for a meeting.

Rosie : Gabi gone too?

Isabella : Gabi went to America to free dive through a cave for a celebrity advert where the celebrity can’t actually swim.

Rosie : Shame. Etienne and Walker might pop in too. . . Sure you can’t make it?

Wren : We all know what too much work and no play makes. . .

Isabella : Yes. A successful restaurant.

Amber : Well said, sister.

Isabella put the phone down with a sigh and a twinge of regret that she couldn’t join them.

She hadn’t seen anything of Etienne since he saw a lot of her in the cloakroom.

And that was fine, because she’d been more focused and more driven and had slept better than she had in weeks, maybe months, since their mind-blowing non-sex.

He was the first person to touch her since Daniel.

She had never thought of her married sex life as boring.

They’d had a regular sex life, maybe twice or three times a week.

Of course, she knew now that while she might have been having sex twice or three times a week, he was having it a lot more.

But she’d been content. The sex was good.

Maybe a bit routine, but good. But now, having been touched and turned and tweaked by Etienne, she thought maybe it had been a bit.

. . pedestrian. Run-of-the-mill. A bit, dare she say.

. . missionary. Daniel had never, and would never, think about pressing her to the wall in a cloakroom.

He would wait until they got home and had locked the door and gone upstairs to bed.

‘More comfortable,’ she could hear him saying.

She’d not texted Etienne since that night, almost a week ago. She wanted to ration herself. Only give in when her sexual appetite really needed satisfying. That way, the rest of the time she could focus on what mattered. The restaurant.

It had been a productive week. She’d applied for her premises licence and personal licence so that she could sell alcohol.

She’d scheduled a date for the Environmental Health Department inspection.

She’d registered her food business and smiled at the sight of it in black and white.

Tutto Mio Restaurant. Proprietor Ms Isabella Tucci.

But the paperwork that went with it seemed never-ending and Isabella had to steel herself to stay focused and plough through endless sections on hygiene, allergens and food storage. Before she reached the end, Nonna nudged her hard in the ribs and she realised she was asleep.

When they’d started the course after lunch, she could hear Amber whooping downstairs every now and then, when another member of the team managed a successful transaction on the card machine.

She wished she had something as exciting to do up in the flat now that might keep her awake.

She knew one thing that would keep her awake, but she was trying not to think about him.

She refocused her eyes and her efforts; half an hour later she punched the air as she closed her laptop.

‘Done!’ she said.

‘Wondered what was taking you so long,’ said Nonna and Isabella realised she’d already finished and was now playing online poker.

Isabella stood and stretched, feeling like she used to at uni after pulling an all-nighter. She wanted to go and let off steam.

‘Want to go out for dinner, Nonna? Check out the competition?’ she asked. Nonna patted her arm as she too closed her laptop.

‘Sorry. I’m booked in to tai chi at eight.’ She struck a pose, looking at something in the middle distance while lifting one leg in front of her. Isabella wondered where she got the energy.

She checked her watch and remembered Wren’s earlier invitation but it was approaching seven; Story Stars would be over. They’d be closing up and taking Riley home to bed. And Amber would be home with Jayden.

She drummed her fingers on the bar and considered her options.

She could go downstairs and find a windowsill that still needed painting.

She could luxuriate in a hot bath with a face pack and a hair mask.

She could ring Gabi and Jesse and have a long gossipy catch-up.

Or she could do what she truly wanted to do, and text Etienne to see if he wanted ‘part two’.

Maybe it was the fact she’d been sitting still all day that she felt the need to go and do something wild.

Maybe it was because it had been a week without feeling his skin on hers and that was long enough.

It wasn’t technically sex after all. It was fun.

And she deserved it after all the work she’d done that week.

Nonna came back downstairs wearing purple sparkly leggings and a sweatband round her head. She dashed a slick of fuchsia lipstick on as she picked up her house keys and then threw a wave over her shoulder. Isabella listened to the front door close and then lifted her phone.

Isabella : Hi.

No immediate response. She moved to look out the front window across the square, squinting to see if she could see him inside The Bistro. But it was too far away. She could see the lights on, glowing through the windows. Maybe he was busy. And then:

Etienne : Hi.

She grinned to herself and then took the bull by the horns. She’d never put herself out there like this before, but she figured, if you don’t ask, you don’t get.

Isabella : You free tonight? Thought I could give you your delayed birthday present.

Her stomach lurched at the thought of putting her hands on him. Of finding out what he had in those snug-fitting jeans. She wanted to see him, suck him, taste him. She pressed her thighs together while she waited for the reply.

Etienne : Nice thought but I don’t think I need your birthday present tonight.

Isabella slumped in shock. What kind of message was that? He didn’t need it? Did that mean he’d had his ‘needs’ fulfilled elsewhere? Of course he must have done. He was the town player after all. She was about to throw the phone onto the sofa when another came through.

Etienne : What I really need is some help!

That stopped her in her tracks. She shrugged, looking around her empty flat, having nothing else to do tonight.

Isabella : What’s happening?

Etienne : Can you come to Fox’s?

Isabella : Be there in ten.

Etienne opened the door holding George against his chest. The tiny boy’s pale face was tear-stained and he refused to look at Isabella. Reggie ran around in the background wearing a pair of pants on his head and chasing Dingbat.

‘Welcome to the madhouse.’ Etienne’s normally perfect waves were stuck up with what looked like peanut butter. ‘Come on through.’

The kitchen looked like something had exploded. Water pooled on the floor, the table was covered with half-eaten food and reading books, the sink overflowed with dirty dishes. And a funny smell, almost medicinal, hung in the air.

Dingbat streaked past, something in his mouth. Reggie raced after him, now circling a lasso over his head.

‘He has a lot of energy for this time of night?’ Isabella said.

‘I think I gave him too much sugar. . .’ Etienne said, pulling her out of the way of the rope with his free hand as it whistled past her ear.

‘Tea?’ Etienne asked, patting the back of George’s head as he sniffled into his shirt.

‘I’ll do it,’ said Isabella, taking off her coat and rolling up her shirtsleeves. Etienne slumped onto one of the kitchen chairs and adjusted George’s position on his lap. George still refused to look at anyone and stuck his head in Etienne’s armpit.

Tea made, Isabella took the chair opposite and Etienne took a thirsty slurp.

‘Thanks. Don’t think I’ve had a drink all day. Last thing was a coffee before Fox left.’

‘Where’s he gone?’

‘He’s gone to see the games investors he’s working for. They’re in London for a games convention and wanted to see the latest on the extension he’s designing.’

‘Bit last minute, isn’t it?’

Etienne scrunched his nose. ‘Abbie from next door was booked to look after the boys but she’s gone down with a bug. So, I got a call this morning to see if I could step in.’ He rubbed George’s back rhythmically, automatically, and the boy’s bottom lip wobbled.

‘It was all going fine until George started throwing up everywhere– I think he has the same bug as Abbie.’ He tried to look into George’s face, but the boy snuggled deeper and turned his head away. ‘Not feeling very well, are you, mate?’ George closed his eyes and sneaked his thumb into his mouth.

Reggie tore through the kitchen, now wearing a tutu, and this time he had the dog on reins.

‘What time is Fox back?’ Isabella asked.

‘He’s not. They’ve asked him to stay for the dinner later, to meet some of the other investors. I said I’d stay over. I didn’t tell him about George or he’d have worried and he needs to be focused on his meeting. It’s a big deal.’

He looked around the debris of the kitchen and exhaled apprehensively. George lifted his head for the first time and yawned loudly.

‘I could do with some help getting them into bed,’ Etienne said with a hopeful look at Isabella. ‘I did try Walker but he’s on shift. I think this little guy will feel better with a good sleep,’ he said with a downward nod at George. ‘And then I can set about clearing up.’

Isabella nodded.

‘I have no experience of children at all, but hey,’ she said optimistically, ‘how hard can this be?’

An hour later– after George had thrown up again twice (once down Etienne’s shirt), Reggie had demanded four bedtime stories, the dog had eaten the leftover dinner from the plates on the table and Etienne had trodden barefoot on some Lego which resulted in some language that was definitely not child-friendly ? they had two boys in bed.

George sucked steadfastly on his thumb and his eyelids drooped.

Reggie screwed his eyes shut and counted sheep out loud.

They reconvened at the kitchen table, Etienne now wearing one of Fox’s checked shirts and limping. Isabella was dazed.

‘Are we allowed alcohol now?’ Isabella asked. Etienne stumbled to the fridge and held up a beer. She nodded. They clinked bottles together and slumped back in their seats. Etienne glanced around the kitchen.

‘I’ll sort this out in a minute,’ he said, closing his eyes.

‘How does he do that every day?’ she said.

‘And on his own too,’ Etienne agreed. ‘He’s a superman.’

‘What happened to his wife?’ Isabella asked. ‘It never seemed right to ask.’

Etienne opened one eye and pointed at a photo on the edge of the corkboard that Isabella hadn’t noticed before. She stood to examine it, the profile shot of lips pressed to Fox’s cheek. The happy crinkle of her eyes as she kissed.

‘That’s Meg,’ he said. ‘She drove to the local shop for milk one Saturday morning about two weeks after George was born and suffered a brain aneurysm. She drove off the road and hit a tree.’

‘How awful.’ Isabella slumped back into her kitchen chair, her eyes blurring as she tried to focus on the corkboard. All the happy pictures of Fox and his sons. Everything that Meg was missing out on.

‘Walker’s crew were called out. It was him that cut her free of the car but she didn’t make it into the ambulance. Walker told Fox he was as gentle with her as she died as he had been the first time he held her babies.’

Isabella closed her eyes as that hit home. ‘That explains why they are so close.’

‘I met Fox about a week after she’d died. He was a real mess. Not surprisingly.’

‘And you’ve not left him since,’ Isabella said.

‘Never.’

‘Do you think he’ll ever move on?’ Isabella turned to face him.

‘Maybe one day,’ Etienne said. ‘In his own time.’

Isabella’s heart hurt for Fox. Bringing up the boys alone.

‘He’s lucky to have you,’ she said, a break in her voice.

‘I’m the lucky one.’ Etienne swore, his eyes fierce.

The moment lengthened. Her stomach somersaulted as she held the look, thinking about her earlier message.

He wet his full lower lip and she wondered if he was thinking the same thing.

Even with food in his hair and bags under his eyes, he was still the sexiest man she’d ever met.

The house around them was silent. Etienne’s eyebrow raised. Was this it? Part two?

‘Uncle Et. . .’ George stood in the doorway, with dinosaur pyjamas, bare feet and the whitest face she’d ever seen. ‘I don’t feel so good.’

Etienne stood and was halfway across the kitchen when George projectile vomited. Etienne expertly sidestepped its trajectory and swung the boy into his arms. George’s chin wobbled as he started to cry, and Etienne cradled him against his chest.

‘Back soon,’ Etienne said to Isabella before carrying George back up the stairs to clean him up and sort him out. She could hear him talking gently to the boy, and then the sound of the bath running. She couldn’t just sit there, so she found some bleach under the sink and got busy with the mop.

An hour later, the kitchen was sparkling.

The front room was tidy and all Lego was back in the box.

Dingbat had been fed and was spread out on the hearth, farting.

Even the plants had been watered. Still Etienne hadn’t reappeared.

She watched half an hour of television, and even then, he didn’t come back down.

‘Etienne!’ she stage-whispered from the bottom of the stairs. Nothing. She crept up to the landing and saw the night lights were still on in George’s room. Maybe he hadn’t got off to sleep yet. She poked her head around the door.

Etienne and George were both in bed. George wore a clean pair of pyjamas and had a touch more colour in his cheeks.

Etienne lay beside him wearing yet another of Fox’s shirts, snoring lightly, a children’s book on his chest. Isabella tiptoed over and switched off the bedside light.

Let them sleep. She’d leave them to it and head home.

She pulled the bedroom door to and was on the top step to head down when the other bedroom door opened and Reggie appeared, white like a ghost with shadows under his eyes.

‘Isabella,’ he groaned, holding his tummy. ‘When’s Daddy home? I feel a bit sick.’

She moved as fast as she could to get him to the bathroom. It wasn’t fast enough.