Sophie ran down the stairs, to where Matthew lay on the floor, comatose. She needed to get him up off the floor. Using a slim finger she prodded him.
“Morning Matt,” she said.
He opened a bleary eye. “Matt?” he said, shutting his eyes. “Am I already saddled with a new nickname? What happened to Mr. Swimming Coach? Taskmaster?”
“You’ve got to get up.”
“Little Miss Persistent.” He rolled over. “That’s what I’ll call you.”
“No, I don’t like that.” But it was better than Miss Fun-Time. Thank God he’d forgotten about that nickname.
“Miss Pest.” He cackled and rolled around on the floor. God, he was still drunk.
“Nope.” Sophie bit her lip. She had to stop seeing any humour in his responses or she’d never get him out of there.
“Oh, right. You preferred Miss Mermaid. Pardon me, I forgot.”
“My dad’s going to be here any minute. You need to get up and go.”
“What is the time now? I’ll call a car, a taxi… how about we find that same driver that almost killed me that night?” He barked with laughter.
“Or you could walk to the pool; it's not far.” Sophie offered a solution. She was a solutions type of girl.
“Now there's a possibility.”
“Here, have something for the headache.” She handed him a tablet and a glass of water, and he took them both, sitting up and groaning. “How about I help you stand up. My dad really is going to be here soon. Remember he’s seeing my new place for the first time.”
“Oh God.” Matthew held onto the coffee table. “Am I going to throw up?”
“If you need to, please let me know first so I can grab a bucket.” Sophie's voice was filled with mock seriousness. What was she going to do if he vomited all over the floor? Should she open a window to let in fresh air?
“I’ve met your dad. He’s cool. Maybe I should just stay… we could chat a bit. We really got along Soph.” Matthew collapsed back down onto the floor, closing his eyes.
“He won’t like you if he sees you now. He’ll think….”
Matthew opened his eyes. “Would that be so bad? After all, you were trying to get into my jeans all night.”
Sophie couldn’t help but laugh. Then she stopped, adopting a serious expression. “Dad would get the wrong idea about me and you. He’d think there was more to us, considering….”
“Considering….”
“I work for you. He’d think I was sleeping around with my clients to get a promotion and the fact is we’re. We’re, um...” She stopped. What exactly were they? Client and consultant? Swimming instructor and aquaphobe?
“We’re what?” he persisted, his eyes settling on hers.
“Um….”
“I’ll tell you what, we’re going to the ballet together as a group of friends,” he declared as a dimple formed on each cheek. “Whatever that means, but we both agreed and you want to go with me.” He pointed at her.
“Carol did ask you.”
“Come on Soph, admit you want me to come, and maybe you might even like being in my company and might stop hating me because of all the swimming lessons. So for the moment I suppose we’re friends, aren’t we?”
He was still drunk. How did she answer a question like that? “Yes,” she said slowly. “So, I guess, we’re friends,” she said, carefully. “Yes, just friends… that settles it, doesn’t it? And now you’ve got to go.” Sophie was beginning to panic. This wasn’t the time to get into a deep conversation.
“Yeah, yeah.” He nodded, closing his eyes again. “It’s hard being daddy’s little girl. You’ve to keep up appearances and that must get tiring.”
“You need to get up.” Sophie reached for his hand as the door buzzer rang. “Get up quick,” she urged, grabbing his arm. As muscular as he was, his body flopped like a rag doll. He stood and wobbled, barely able to take a step. Why was he the only one still plastered? These athletic types can never hold their alcohol. “It’s got to be Dad.”
Carol stared from the hallway, looking deeply concerned. “What are you going to do with him?”
“I’ll put him in my room while you answer the door.”
Carol raised her eyebrows. “All right.”
“Matthew, upstairs,” Sophie instructed him in a serious tone.
“I’ve met him before,” Matthew insisted. “It will be fine. Remember, at the pool? We’re buddies.”
“No. No. No. It won’t be fine.” She pulled Matthew’s hand and practically dragged him up the stairs and along the corridor to her doorway. “Here, this is my room.” Sophie pushed the door open.
“Well I’ve been waiting for this invitation… you left it so long.” He swayed slightly on the spot. “So do you really consider us friends?”
“Yes, of course.” She tapped her foot on the carpet.
He studied Sophie's bedroom for the first time. “Holy crap,” he breathed, freezing at the doorway, his eyes darting around wildly.
“Get in,” she hissed.
“How?” His eyes were round as he looked at the boxes everywhere.
“Shimmy.”
“Shimmy?”
“Yeah, shimmy. They’re just boxes. Hide under the covers.”
Doubt flickered across his face. “Is it safe?”
“Yes.”
“You really haven’t moved in yet, have you?” His voice was filled with concern. “Are we still on for tomorrow, our Saturday move?” How did he remember that, considering how drunk he was – how drunk he still seemed to be – how did he remember the move on Saturday?
“Just get in.”
He finally slid past the boxes, toward the covers and into her bed. “Your bed's comfortable.”
Sophie was intrigued by his thought processes. “I’ll see you later. Thanks for going out last night. It was fun.”
“So tomorrow morning, I’ll meet you here. Mickey’s arranging an appropriate time for you and me to collect your stuff. She’s a nice girl at two in the morning.” Matthew mumbled from under the covers.
Sophie swallowed. “Yes, that’s right, you spoke to Mickey. Okay, I’ll be in contact. Thanks for your help. Bye.”
“Um, Soph, if your dad’s never been here before, won’t he want to see the rest of the house? And your room?”
Sophie swallowed. “Er, right….” Sophie slammed the door and panted. He was right.
Sophie noticed Carol at the entrance, the front door was open. “Hello,” Carol said, as Sophie raced down the stairs.
Roger stifled his astonishment as he scanned Carol’s loud outfit. Sophie quickly introduced them.
“Mr. Smart, I can see now where Sophie gets her good looks from,” Carol beamed.
Roger’s face turned slightly pink. “What a lovely thing to say.” A smile spread across his face.
“Well, it was nice to meet you.” Carol abruptly embraced Roger, pulling him into a hug.
“Nice to meet you, too, Carol.” Roger stiffly patted Carol on the back. “It’s a pleasure, and I can see my daughter is in great hands.”
Carol released Roger from her clutches. “I’d better be off. Have a great day.” With a slight wave she bounded out of the front door, closing it behind her.
“This is the flat.” Sophie motioned. “I haven’t quite unpacked yet. So I won’t show you my room today.” Especially with Matthew in her bed.
“I don’t mind seeing a few boxes,” Roger said.
Sophie laughed shrilly. “We’ll do the downstairs first.” She led her father into the flat. His gaze darted around, taking in the features of the place.
“This is the lounge.” Sophie indicated, as they walked into the sitting room.
“It’s nice and airy.” Roger examined the skylight in the middle of the room. “It will be lovely in summer.”
Sophie’s heart constricted. “Just to be clear, Derek and I…we’ve broken up.”
His face crumpled in sympathy. “I thought as
much. Did you leave him?”
“He asked me to choose between him and my job,” she admitted. “He's met someone else. There may have been an overlap. I can’t be sure yet.”
“Arse.” Roger spoke through clenched teeth. “I’m so sorry, Soph. You don’t need a guy like that. Are you okay?”
She gave him a quick little nod, keeping her spirits up; there would be no wallowing in misery.
“You’re a survivor aren’t you?” He shook his head. “I can’t break this news to your mother. You know she loved Derek and will have a million questions. You should tell her.”
“It’s fine Dad,” Sophie agreed. “I’ll tell her.”
“When did you…move?”
Sophie hated to say it. “A few weeks ago,” she admitted, realising her dad must have lost his job even earlier than she'd broken up with Derek.
“Let’s check out, upstairs.”
“You know what,” Sophie said gesturing around. “Mickey insisted that I take you to visit her coffee shop before rush hour. I’m not sure if you’ve ever been there. It’s close by and Mickey’s determined to have you visit her.”
“You told her that I’d been made redundant?”
“I told her that you were in the area.” She led her father outside the apartment and released a breath she didn’t know she had been holding. “If I have to be truthful, then so do you. You can practice on Mickey. It will help you learn the right phrases to explain the situation to Mum.”
Chapter 12