Poppet

Eden Hole

WHEN AJ AND Melanie get back to the cottage, Stewart is barking like crazy. He doesn’t even seem to recognize AJ when he opens the door, he just sits in the hallway, head back, yapping at them.

‘Hey hey! Stewie? What’s up – it’s only me.’ AJ crouches beside him. ‘What’s up, Stewie?’

Stewart stops barking and sniffs AJ’s hands sullenly, his eyes rolling suspiciously up to Melanie. She regards him warily, holding her bags high out of his reach.

‘He’s … he’s lovely,’ she says uncertainly.

‘I swear he’s not like this usually.’ AJ gives the dog a scratch behind the ears. He’s panting and his heart is racing under his ribcage. ‘He’s been weird since yesterday. He disappeared for the day and now he’s acting like a nutjob – I don’t get it. What happened, boy?’

Stewart does a small, agitated circle on the floor. Then, reluctantly, he sits, tongue hanging out. AJ is mystified. ‘I’ll take him out later – run him until he’s too knackered to be neurotic. Come on – come and meet Patience.’

They carry Melanie’s bags through into the living room. AJ has called ahead and warned his aunt Melanie will be staying. Patience’s only comment was: Tell the poor girl she’ll have to like my cooking. I don’t want any of your mincy little food Nazis in my house. If she wants to live on lettuce and air, she can go live in a warren.

AJ has noted the way Patience says ‘poor girl’. As if any woman crazy enough to be involved with him must be a truly miserable specimen. Or very slutty and self-obsessed. When Melanie walks through the door in the simple white wool dress, her honey hair falling around her face, Patience’s face falls a mile. This is not what she was expecting. AJ can’t help smirking.

‘Well now,’ she says, getting to her feet. ‘Melanie. It’s good to meet you.’

She shakes Melanie’s hand, letting her eyes go slowly from her feet all the way up to her face and down again. Then she releases her hand, steps back and folds her arms, appraising her, eyebrows raised like question marks. She makes a loud tut in the back of her throat, tosses her head and sashays into the kitchen, hips swinging imperiously.

‘God!’ AJ scratches his head, embarrassed. ‘I’m sorry. She obviously didn’t expect me to be with someone who’s as … you know … nice as you.’

‘Okaaaaa-aaay.’ Melanie drops her hands. She surreptitiously wipes the palm Patience touched against her skirt. ‘That’s fine – I understand.’ She smiles waveringly, glancing around the room. It’s in a state of chaos: Patience’s jam jars on every surface and clutches of wildflowers in milk bottles on the windowsill, the water going brown. She shoots a look at the kitchen, then back at the hallway where Stewart is sitting moodily watching them.

AJ’s spirit sinks. This isn’t going well – not well at all.

‘Melanie, listen – you’re so welcome here. We’re not exactly conventional, I know. Patience takes a bit of getting used to—’

‘I heard that,’ Patience hollers from the kitchen. ‘I’ll have to get used to her is what you should be saying.’

AJ shakes his head, gives a small smile.

‘Like I say, you’ll have to get used to my lovely aunt, but we want you to be comfortable. If you need somewhere private – somewhere you can be yourself – you can have Mum’s old room.’ He jabs his finger at the ceiling. ‘There’s a bedroom above here and a bathroom – completely private. And clean – I promise – in spite of what it looks like down here, it is clean up there – I did it myself.’

‘I heard that too. Do you want your breakfast or not?’

‘Breakfast?’ Melanie whispers. ‘Breakfast?’

‘It’s a family tradition – when I come home from work. Don’t panic.’ He jabs a finger at the stairwell that leads to his section. ‘I’ve got the same thing up those stairs – mirror image. Only a wall separating us.’

Melanie raises her eyes to the ceiling – to the oak beams. ‘Is there a doorway?’

‘No.’

‘So to get to you from there I’ve got to … what? Come down here and go up?’

‘Yes. Or you could just throw your chips in and stay with me.’