Look Back at Me (Fleckney Fields Series, Book 1)

Eggs and Treats

2 out of 2 :)

Love,

K. xx

***

"You took over Dr. Singh's practice?" he asked, his eyebrows jumping up in disbelief. "Why didn't anyone tell me?"

What a Rhys thing to say, Viola thought sarcastically.

"Are you planning to become my patient?" she asked and took another sip of her tea.

"What?" he grumbled, his eyebrows drawn together now.

"Why else would you need to be informed of this change?" She got up and put her mug in the sink. "Do you know if Mable composts her tea bags?" she asked nonchalantly, and saw his face grow even more taken aback.

You're just being mean and relishing in goading him, Viola. Give the man a break. He's just had a shock. Seeing one's ex wife in lingerie wasn't how he expected his morning to go. And we all know how poorly Rhys Holyoake reacts when his expectations aren't met accurately and in a timely manner.

She exhaled slowly, without turning to him. Why are you suddenly annoyed? It– He has nothing to do with you.

"I'll go see if they need me," she said to him and walked out of the kitchen.

She knocked on Mable's bedroom door, and the woman shouted to her she'd be down for breakfast in a few minutes. Fiona decided to use this time to change.

She opened the wardrobe where she'd hung her clothes the previous night. She moved the hangers around, shuffling her jumpers and shirts - and then she realised she was feeling indecisive, which was so unlike her! She put a lot of thought into her wardrobe - extensive and meticulously picked - so that pieces in each section went well together. She'd packed enough 'weekend/vacation' pieces for the week here to last her a month. Why can't you choose a jumper, Viola? And you know any jeans out of the five pairs you packed will do. They all fit perfectly, they all make your arse look ace. Oh wait... Why does it even matter what your arse looks like?!

Oh.

Viola jerked her favourite stripy tunic jumper off its hanger and threw it on the bed behind her.

You are an idiot, Viola Holyoake.

She pulled the jeans up and prohibited herself to check her backside in the mirror. This arse has nothing to do with the man downstairs. Actually, that's it. There's a new person downstairs, and that's why you're fretting. It could be any person.

She got dressed and grabbed her brush from the vanity where she'd neatly arranged her beauty supplies the night before. Stop grabbing and throwing and jerking your hair. You're only making yourself more frazzled.

She'd known they would meet, she reminded herself. It was just that it had been a surprise, and she'd felt exposed and vulnerable standing in that kitchen pretty muck starkers. She braided her hair, her fingers quickly going through the familiar movements, and tied a clear elastic on its end. She tucked the curls on the sides of her face behind her ears, and threw a quick look in the mirror. Put together but casual. She exhaled and gave herself a smile. Now - she felt like herself.

***

When she came into the kitchen, Mable was already downstairs with Molly. The girl was awkwardly standing in the corner, while Rhys was pulling what looked like ingredients for an omelette from the fridge. Mable sat at the table, regal as usual.

"Ah, Viola dear, will you make us your wonderful coffee?"

"Did Dr. Fenton allow you to have caffeine?" Viola asked.