Chapter 6

Chapter Six

Phillip

It's still early in the day so I'm not sure if Rose will have sent over her designs yet, but I settle down on my sofa with a coffee and my laptop just in case. If not, it will have to wait until after Sunday lunch at my parent's and those can go on pretty long once we all get talking. I'd rather get back to Rose now and firm up our plans to shop for materials tomorrow while I'm at it. Plus, I'm curious to see what she's come up with. Fortunately, her email is there waiting for me when I login.

My breath catches when I open the first attachment. It's a glorious riot of pastels, truly beautiful, but the more I look at it, the more my gut churns with unease. There is no way we can put this together on such a short deadline and I'm left praying the second option she's included is more practical.

The tightness in my chest immediately loosens when I open the second attachment. This is the one. If I didn't know better, I'd think Rose had pulled this option straight from a fairytale. As requested by Aria, the design is spread over four panels. Two in the back, tall enough for even me to walk behind unseen, followed by two smaller panels in front that come up to around waist height. This design will be much simpler to cut since it's only the edges of the panels that will need to take on the shape of branches and treetops. Further inspection shows that the two shorter front sections can slot together to make one longer section across the front when needed. Aria already explained she wants the set on wheels with brakes—I assume to make it easier to get in and out of the schools they'll be visiting, but it looks like they'll be moving the pieces during the performance too.

What will make this set truly impressive is how it will be painted and, if her designs are anything to go by, Rose is more than up to the task. Shades of brown and green are layered together in a way that makes the trees look alive, like I would be able to feel the rough bark beneath my hand if I ran my fingers over the trunks. Through some kind of artistic magic to do with perspective and other things I only know a little about, Rose has managed to make it look like the flat images extend backwards, creating the illusion of being deep in a forest. Adding to the sense of whimsy are the little orbs of warm light dancing amongst the branches. Upon closer inspection I realise they're small golden fairies perching on the tree limbs. It fascinates me that Rose is capable of making it look like they glow through clever use of colour and a boatload of talent.

I hurry to draft up my reply but pause before sending it. Rose never answered the text I sent her when we exchanged numbers on Monday and I'm worried I might have offended her. Again. I bring up the message on my phone for the hundredth time.

Me:

This is Phillip. Hopefully I won't give you a reason to tell me off again but if I do, now you won't even have to be in the same room as me to do it.

At the time I thought the message with my email address included underneath was a good idea. A little good-natured ribbing over a situation we'd both found embarrassing, but now I'm not so sure. Calling Rose could minimise the chances of another misunderstanding but it's a Sunday so she's probably got plans. When did I stop being able to talk to women? Maybe Blake's right and I really do need to start putting myself out there again if this is what being out of practice looks like. I read through the email one last time then press send before I can overthink it any further.

I'm the last one to arrive for lunch and Mum pulls me into a quick, floral-scented hug before ushering me through my childhood home to my usual seat at the dining table.

"Uncle Phillip!" Toby leaps up from his chair and tackles me with a hug of his own.

"Hey buddy," I reply, grinning at his enthusiasm. He's only six but in a few short years he'll be old enough to think he's too cool for his uncle so I make sure to treasure these moments while I can. Eric and I exchange hellos over Toby's head. My brother looks tired. He's dressed well, as always, in smart jeans and a soft-looking jumper that probably cost more than my whole wardrobe put together, but there's a tightness to his shoulders and dark circles under his eyes. Making a mental note to check in with my big brother soon, I disentangle myself from Toby's embrace and take a seat.

"Martin, you had better not still be out in the garage by the time I place this shepherd's pie on the table!" my mother calls out in warning as she places a large dish of mixed vegetables on one of the heatproof mats in the centre of the table. When people meet them they're often surprised by how Mum orders Dad around given she's only 5ft 3" to his 6ft 4" but that's just what works for them. Dad often jokes he's so easily distracted that he'd never get anything done without Mum to keep him organised.

"What's he working on now?" Eric asks.

"He muttered something about a new bird-feeding platform for the garden before disappearing out there earlier," Mum replies with an even mix of exasperation and fondness.

"I'm here, I'm here," Dad announces, lumbering into the room, eyes darting to the table and sighing in relief when he sees the shepherd's pie isn't there yet. Last time he missed Mum serving up she refused to let him have any dessert and it was her rhubarb crumble, his favourite. I'm pretty sure she caved on that after the rest of us left, but still. It obviously made an impression.

"Just in time," Mum says, a teasing glint in her eye. Once the main dish is brought over we all serve ourselves, Eric making up a plate for Toby as well. The first bite hits my taste buds and I hold back a moan of pleasure. Mum gave me her recipe, but I'm pretty sure she left out a secret ingredient because my shepherd's pie never tastes as good as hers.

"How's work, dear? Was it this week you were starting that set project?"

"Yeah, it's going well. I've not had much to do this week aside from meeting the artist who's designed the set, but we're getting started properly tomorrow. You should see her work, she's amazing. Rose stepped in last-minute since it's her friend's company we're working for. She sent over her designs this morning and they're fantastic. Seriously, the amount of detail is amazing."

Realising I'm gushing, I quickly shovel another forkful into my mouth. Eric smirks at me across the table and Mum has a thoughtful look on her face.

"She sounds like a lovely young woman." Oh no. That's not her thinking face, it's her matchmaking face. Time to backpedal like my life depends on it.

"We don't really know each other but she seems nice enough." When I'm not pissing her off.

"What about you, Eric?" Dad asks, saving me from further questions. For now.

"Busy." He sighs. "We've got a couple of high-profile potential new clients but neither of them is quite ready to sign on the dotted line."

"You'll get 'em, just got to keep at it, son."

"Thanks, Dad." Eric smiles but it's a little forced.

As we carry on eating, Toby tells us about what he's been up to at school and Mum talks about the charity lunch she's helping to organise. Dessert is a delicious sticky toffee pudding with custard and by the time we're scraping the bottom of our bowls I'm stuffed.

"What's everyone got coming up this week? Anything exciting?"

"Just work."

"Just school," Toby answers with a sigh, echoing his dad and making us all laugh. Oh, to be six again.

"Phillip?" Mum prods.

"Not much aside from the new project. Oh, and I'm getting drinks with Blake."

"You must invite him to lunch again. It's been too long since we've seen that boy."

"He's a grown man, although I can see why you'd forget," Eric scoffs. He's never liked Blake, and the feeling is mutual. Eric thinks Blake is a flighty, pretentious, prick, and Blake thinks Eric is an uptight arsehole. Neither of them is entirely wrong. Blake can be self-absorbed and Eric is sometimes a little judgemental but they seem to bring out the worst in each other. My parents met Blake at a dinner for my birthday a couple of years ago and when Mum realised he's not close with his family, she decided to welcome him into ours—much to Eric's displeasure.

I help clear the table while Eric and Toby head out to the garage with Dad to take a look at the bird feeder he's working on. While the sink fills with warm water and bubbles I cover the leftovers and place them in the fridge and then start washing the dishes. Mum slips into the spot beside me to dry the plates from the rack.

"You seem awfully excited about this new project."

"Yeah, it should be fun."

"And you like the artist you're working with, Rose was it?" She's doing her best to make it sound like an innocent question, I'll give her that, but my mother's keen blue eyes are too probing for me to fall for her act.

"Like I said, I don't know her all that well yet but she's incredibly talented," I reply, drying my hands on the extra dish towel. I pull out my phone, bringing up Rose's website to show her. It's possible I may have done some light internet stalking after our first official meeting. "She's been taking a break but this is some of her work."

Mum tosses her tea towel over her shoulder and accepts my offered phone.

"Oh," she gasps. "These are lovely." She scrolls through the online gallery of abstract portraits for a minute before passing the phone back to me. "I see why you like her. You've always been drawn to creative people." She pats my cheek with a knowing grin.

"That's not what this is. We're just working together." While I might secretly hope this time working with Rose will turn into something more, I don't need my mother getting excited about something that may never happen. She tuts, waving me off.

"Only for one project. Then what? There's nothing wrong with using this time to get to know her." How do mums always know what you're planning? Denial is the only way forward at this point.

"I'm not?—"

"Are you not attracted to her? The look on your face when you talk about her says otherwise," she pushes.

"She's very attractive but that's not the point. I need to be professional here. Besides, I don't get the impression she's looking for something anyway," I can't help but add. Mum just scoffs.

"Some of the best love stories begin when we're not looking. Your father and I didn't expect to find each other when we did and look how that turned out. You won't know unless you put yourself out there." With that she sweeps out of the room, leaving me to finish the dishes in contemplative silence.