Catherine Miller - Waiting For You

Fliss allowed herself a small smile. Two lots of compliments about her work in the same day was a rarity. Possibly because she didn’t put it on show like she should. ‘I used a block print to give me the same repetition. My eye’s not that good. I like to experiment with different techniques and the house is the best place to try anything new.’

‘Wow. If this is what you manage when you’re experimenting, I’d love to see what you do when you’ve refined your techniques.’

Fliss blushed. What Leon had said about refining techniques had sent a pulse through her body as she imagined innuendo where there wasn’t any. It proved her husband was away far too much if her mind was wandering so easily.

Leon brushed the hair back out of his face with one hand, his eyelids temporarily hooded. ‘I don’t suppose…’ He cleared his throat, not managing to complete his sentence. ‘Do you take on smaller jobs? There’s been some damage to my flat that’ll need sorting.’ Leon closed his eyes and shook his shoulders, like someone had just stepped over his grave.

‘What kind of damage?’

Tim reappeared with the large pair of scissors he’d gone to search for.

Leon glimpsed at Tim. ‘I’ll fill you in another time. Can you do it?’

‘Yes, no job too small. Just let me know.’ Leon’s change in demeanour made her wonder what type of damage he meant, but it didn’t really matter when she was in need of work however it came about.

Leon went back to marking out the position of the tripod and Fliss did her best to ignore his muscular body. ‘There. No one will notice,’ he said.

Fliss hoped Leon was right and the tape against the dark blue carpet didn’t show.

‘This is how you release the legs so the tripod folds down.’ Leon showed Fliss a quick release catch. ‘Leave the legs at this height. It can be hard to judge if you’ve got yourself in a headshot if you’re doing it by yourself. Hopefully you have a cupboard where you can stash this away when you’re not using the camera. You’ll need to be careful when storing it not to damage the lens. I’ll leave the cover with you. Pop that on before you put it away and it should keep it safe. And here’s my card.’ He took one from his wallet. ‘Give me a call if you have any problems and please text me your number so we can talk about my flat. I need to explain a few things to see if it’s possible to sort it out.’

***

When they’d all left, Fliss was left with a camera peering at her, a fistful of documents she needed to read and sign, and a sense of loneliness made greater by the fact she’d been assessed as such. In the early days she’d heard those comments often from her mum and her sisters. ‘Won’t you miss him? Won’t you be lonely?’ She’d dismissed the idea often enough for them to have stopped asking. But the ease with which she’d jovially shrugged off those comments when they first adopted their dual lifestyle had left her today. Instead, she found that she’d spent so long defending their set-up that at some point she’d started trying to convince herself as well as those around her. They were lucky, she would say to herself. Thousands of people would love to have this lifestyle but wouldn’t be able to afford two residences. They were only able to after riding the wave of a fortunate upturn in the property market. But with each passing year the idyll was losing its shine. Maybe she needed to get out more. She’d speak to Caroline, who always said Hollie was welcome to stay, but Fliss rarely took her up on the offer. She needed to do something to rid herself of the doubt that had formed since the arrival of the TV crew.

Fliss glanced at the pieces of tape from twenty different angles in every kind of light to try and see whether they would be spotted against the dark blue carpet. To rid herself of any further anxiety on the matter, she strategically placed some of Hollie’s toys and books. On all the weekends Ben visited, he’d never once shown any inclination to help with the tidying. As she assessed the scattering of toys she couldn’t work out which was sadder. That she needed to hide the fact she’d signed up for the show or that she considered her husband a visitor in their family home.

Chapter Five

Fliss repositioned the camera. It was hard to make out if it was in the right place at two in the morning, but it was the best she could manage.

It was the most ridiculous thing to be doing at this time, but after tossing and turning for hours she thought that perhaps talking about it would help her sleep. Having switched on the camera, she settled into her comfy chair and glanced at the viewfinder. Thankfully the darkness covered the fact her eyes were red and blotchy.

‘It’s happened again,’ Fliss started. ‘Another negative test. It’s not a surprise so I can’t explain why I’m upset.’ She fiddled with the strings on the hoody she’d chucked over her pyjamas. ‘My period was late which isn’t unusual given how irregular it can be. Sometimes I’ll have two in one month and none the next.’ Fliss stopped herself. What was she doing? Talking about things that she didn’t even discuss with her mother and recording them so they’d be televised to the whole nation. Somehow it wasn’t right and she was stumped by what to say next without exposing all that she held close. ‘I wish my body would behave,’ she confessed. ‘I wish it would stop giving me false hope. Even when there are no symptoms, like this time, I can’t help but think maybe. Just maybe. It’s like a trick I fall for every time. I’m so desperate I’ve become gullible when my body gives me a false sense of what could be. Only it isn’t. It never is and I’m at the point where I need to understand why. The sense of failure is beginning to overwhelm me. It was so much easier with my daughter. Accidental, almost.’ Fliss glanced at the ceiling and imagined the sleeping bundle above. Hollie would be fast asleep, but Fliss worried for a moment that she’d hear her mother’s confessions. That Fliss hadn’t expected Hollie to arrive so early in their marriage. Ironic, really. They’d been trying, but Fliss thought it would take months, and then they were pregnant before she’d had a chance to have her first period. Now, she wanted the same result so much it must be punishment for those previous thoughts.

‘Don’t broadcast that,’ Fliss said in a panic. ‘I don’t want my daughter thinking that she…’ wasn’t wanted. Fliss was unable to say it out loud. She’d already let too much slip. Hollie had been very much wanted; there had just been that brief period of doubt. ‘Never mind. I don’t know why I ever contemplated doing this. It’s stupid. Nobody wants to know about how useless I’m feeling. This was a mistake.’

Annoyed with herself, Fliss uncurled from her foetal position in the chair and went to switch off the recording. Only the camera wasn’t on. No red LED was lit up like when she’d sat down. Or so she’d thought. The early hours of the morning were playing tricks on her mind.

‘Can’t even get that right,’ Fliss said, as she thought about hooking her leg behind one of the tripod legs to take the damn thing out. If she couldn’t even manage a basic home video, then maybe this whole documentary idea wasn’t meant to be.

***

With Hollie packed off to school, Fliss went in search of Leon’s business card. After a rubbish night’s sleep, she was hoping to make a quick exit from the show and as this was the only phone number she had, she thought she might as well tell Leon and hope he’d still be able to put some business her way. She needed a filler, what with the Georgian mansion project continually being delayed by the building work.

Leon Stevens. Assistant Producer.