London Harmony: Flotilla (3 page)

She darted off as I deflated. Yes, my hair, my clothes; I looked at my hands; my hands... my everything. I pulled one dirty hand away from Wil, who I had been steadying on my knee.

Steph seemed to be studying me and my reaction, she rolled her eyes and said with a knowing grin, “You're fine Ange, the rugrats eat dirt, it hasn't killed them yet. You're welcome to freshen up in the loo. I hear tell that Paya called her fiancee to have him bring us pizza, from Gertrude's of all places, while you were downstairs. I didn't know Gertrude ever let anyone out of there with a whole pie before.”

Paya saved me from blushing into a pit of hell when I realized Steph knew my thoughts. “It's one of my many talents, schmoozing pizzeria owners into doing my bidding.”

My stomach growled loudly at all the talk about food.

Steph put her hands out, and Wil jumped from me into her arms as she nudged her head toward the loo. I smiled my thanks and she said to me, “She likes to talk big, but I know that she promised Gertrude an autograph from Tabby Cat for the special favor.”

I paused as I stood, that's right, Tabitha Romanov was the founder of the Flotilla Project. Of course, Paya would know her. I stepped past the women and Paya asked with a cocked eyebrow, “How did you suss that out?”

Steph almost chuckled, her eye twitching in that cute wink. “Wouldn't you like to know, stinker?”

I passed by Natalie, who was coming out of the children's room with a little doll brush. I ruffled her hair, gave an apologetic look, and stepped into the loo.

I smiled as I closed the door at Paya's instant response, “Ah-ha! It was Small-Fry wasn't it? I saw you talking to her last Thursday Night.” The way she said Thursday Night made it sound like an event.

I exhaled and looked into the mirror. I looked so gaunt now. I guess that's what struggling to eat does to you. I had three sets of clothes squirreled away behind the warehouse in an alley where I was sleeping, they were all getting pretty manky.

Nothing to be done for it.

I thought about the fifty quid Paya had promised, maybe I could buy a new jumper at a secondhand or something and get a good meal and a room for the night. I went about washing up. There wasn't any soap or towels yet, they must not have been in any of the boxes we unpacked, so I did the best I could. I almost snorted at the one important thing that wasn't forgotten. Toilet tissue. I balled up a bunch to dry my hands and face then flushed it down.

I looked at myself again in the mirror as I ran my fingers through my matted hair until I looked presentable. I made a silly face. Well at least I wasn't hideous, and I truly liked my smile, though it looked so drawn and tired now, just a shadow in my eyes.

I turned and paused at the door as I thought about the Flotilla and this Slingshot program. I wondered what it took to qualify, and if I could bring myself to ask for help. I knew I needed it, and it was asinine not to ask, but I have always been self-sufficient, and my bloody damn ego wouldn't let me. The irrational part of my brain kept asserting that I had got myself into this mess, and it was up to me to get myself back out of it.

I took a deep breath, steeled myself, then opened the door and stepped out. Steph was digging in a box by the kitchen table and looked up and grinned, “Felling better?” I blushed and nodded. Natalie ran screaming from her mother's room to the kid's room with Wil hot on her heels making monster growls. How could you not smile?

I looked back to see Paya sitting on the couch working on some paperwork. Steph said, “Tabby's right, that woman can't slow down and stop working for even a moment.”

I cocked my head at that and asked her quietly, “How many workers does she have under her? I know she's the director or some such.”

Steph lowered her voice to something conspiratorial. “Besides the captain of the barges and the maintenance crew, the silly bird runs it all herself. Tabby helps out from time to time between gigs.” Then she added, “Of course Tabby's lawyers and accountants handle the money and the contracts end of it all.”

I thought about all the barges I saw and figured six residents or families per boat, and all the people she has placed through Slingshot. Multiplied year over year, there had to be hundreds that she had placed, and she did it alone? That was insane.

I looked over at the woman as her brow furrowed as she filled out some sort of forms. I had a new appreciation for her. I whispered, “Why does she do it alone?”

Steph rolled her eyes like it was obvious and she smiled cutely at me, her face ticking as she said, “Because... she loves it, and loves the people. She is one of the most selfless people I have ever had the privileged to know. I've watched her cry every time she places someone in a flat of their own. She doesn't think anyone sees, and acts all aloof, but in the short few months I have known her, I have witnessed it over and over. This job is her passion.”

Then she squeaked in triumph as she pulled a stack of napkins and paper plates out of the box she was rummaging in. I had to bite back a chuckle. You'd think she had just won the lottery or defeated a Mongol hoard single-handedly. It just made her all the cuter in my eyes.

She set them on the little kitchen table, and we both turned to a buzzing at the door. She blinked and walked over, I noted a little bit of a limp or twitch or something in her left leg as she walked to the door. She presses the button on the intercom panel mounted at the door. That modern adornment looking as out of place in the old flat as the high-tech door locks. “Yes?”

A man's voice came through the speaker. “Yes, right, I was looking for Paya Doshi?”

She replied as she looked at the panel, “Come right up... umm... hang on a second while I figure this contraption out.” She stabbed another button, and we heard a buzzing sound over the intercom, and she grinned in triumph again and stepped past Paya to my side again.

She called out, “Children, lunch is here, go get cleaned up.”

They came squealing out of their room. I realized they had been pretty quiet in there, that was always a sign of little ones getting into mischief. They darted into the washroom, and I said to Steph, “There's no hand towels in there.”

She cringed and then held a finger up and reached into the open box again and came out with a dish towel and made her way to supervise the little ones who could barely get their hands up into the sink. They most likely had a little step stool packed away in one of the boxes.

I tilted my head to watch her as she held each one up to the running water in turn. She was so good with them, she really made a great mum.

Paya cleared her throat, knocking me out of my admiration. I turned, and she said, with humor restrained in her voice, “She lives for those children. There isn't anything she wouldn't do for them.”

I nodded and sat absently on one of the little kitchen chairs. The doorbell rang, and Steph called out, “Paya?”

The dark haired woman popped up from the couch like she was on springs, calling out, “On it.”

She stepped to the door and opened it with a grin. A tallish bloke was standing there holding two pizza boxes in his hands and a bag hanging from an arm. She said cheekily, “Hi Harry.” She leaned in and gave the man a peck on the lips. “Thanks for being a sport and doing this for us. We've had our hands full with the move.”

The man smiled at her and shook his head as he stepped in. She glanced back at me and waved a hand airily in the air as she said, “Angie, Harry. Harry, Angie.” Then she expounded for me, “He's the bloke who put this rock on my finger.”

I waved at the man as he started homing in on the table, Paya following lazily in his wake. “Pleased to meet you, Harry.”

He teased with a half smile. “Of course you are, I brought pizza. That makes me virtually irresistible.”

Ok, I grinned. With that one statement, I could see how he and Paya made such a smart match.

The kids came rushing out of the loo with their mother following. I swear I'm going to figure out what powers children, it seemed to be in the inexhaustible power supply. I could make millions if I could bottle it.

Steph kissed Harry's cheek as she walked past. “Har.”

He responded in kind, “Steph.”

Little Wil was peeking under the lid of one of the divine smelling pizza boxes. I blushed and bit my lower lip in embarrassment when my stomach gurgled loudly. The women just chuckled at me as Harry pulled out the fizzy drinks and some peppers and parmesan packets.

We all waited as Stephanie put two slices on paper plates and set them on the table with napkins, a fizzy drink at each setting. The kids hopped up, and that signaled the free for all for the adults at the pizza.

Dear lord, it looked as divine as it smelled. I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply. It was still piping hot.

I made a pig out of myself, and I think Steph caught me sneaking a slice of pizza which I had wrapped in a napkin, into my jacket beside the other half of the sarnie I had nicked earlier. I didn't meet her eyes.

Harry seemed distracted through the meal. I learned he had a business consulting job that kept him traveling all over Europe. His parent company was stationed out of Paris, and he was home for just a couple days. When he and Paya moved off to the corner of the flat to have an animated discussion in hushed tones, Steph looked uncomfortable as she sipped her fizzy drink. Her eyes were almost haunted as she watched the two, the argument was agitating her.

I thought a moment and said, “Hey roos, why don't we go to your room and figure out how best to display their menagerie of stuffed critters?”

They squealed at the opportunity, and Natalie grabbed my hand with her little one and dragged me with them. I chuckled at their mum as I was pulled away. She gave a thankful look then followed behind for the safari.

We sat on the bed, and Stephanie looked absently around their room, clearly not wanting to talk about what was bothering her. She hugged her arms to herself and smiled weakly as she bounced once on the bed, testing the mattress, and saying, “I'll have to get another bed in here straight away. These two will never get to sleep if they are bunking together.”

I grinned at the thought, yeah, it was a recipe for mayhem having them in the same bed. I mumbled, “Like mixing petrol and matches.” This got a startled, surprised laugh from the woman.

The shadow in her eyes lifted, and she grinned at me and said in question, “Spoken like a mother.”

I brushed that off with an exaggerated exhale of relief, “Heavens no. I'd not survive. I just know how siblings can be. And the young ones seem to run on nuclear batteries.”

She gave a tight-lipped smile, trying hard not to laugh again, and agreed with humor coloring her voice, “Well said.” Then she glanced at the door.

I cocked my head at her as the children took turns bringing various animals to me to tell me each name. She looked down at her hands, and her left one spasmed involuntarily. She looked back at the door and explained, “I just don't like seeing couples arguing.”

In a moment of insight, I put all the puzzle pieces together and tried not to look at her hand. Her husband in prison, the divorce, agitation watching an argument.

She was a victim of spousal abuse. I paled at a thought. Were her physical ticks a result of that abuse instead of just some malady as I assumed earlier? I narrowed my eyes. The thought of her husband physically abusing her caused anger to swell up inside me. I felt protective of this woman, and I hadn't a clue why it felt so personal to me.

She saw my realization and she looked down in shame. Why the bloody hell did she feel ashamed? She wasn't the wanker who abused her. She said quietly, watching her children fighting over a stuffed elephant, “It's the past. It won't happen again.”

I laid a hand on her arm, and she exhaled heavily and placed a hand on top of mine and gave a little squeeze to assure me she was ok. She looked back at the door and then nudged her chin toward it, still speaking in a hushed tone, “Those two are brill together, but he's been away more and more recently and has been pressuring Paya to move to Paris with him so they can be together more frequently. She can't leave London, the Flotilla is her life, it gives her a purpose and drives her. Their arguments started when he began insisting they move to Paris when they get married.”

She took her hand off mine and absently rubbed at her own thumb as it spasmed. I looked at her and assured her, “Harry doesn't strike me as a bloke who would get violent if she refuses.”

She hissed in a whisper, “Neither did Andrew.”

Then she glanced at me and placed a hand om mine. “Sorry, didn't mean to snap.”

I cocked my head to study her and gave a reassuring smile. “Snap away, don't ever apologize for showing your feelings. It can really mess you up inside if you bottle it all up.” I would know.

She nodded, her forehead creased in thought. “I've never thought of it that way. I have to retrain myself not to be so timid.”

She snagged Wil's britches as he ran past, chasing his squealing sister with a stuffed alligator, and hoisted him off the ground. She said absently with a mothering tone, “No terrorizing your sister. What must the neighbors think? Now try to be civilized.”

Then she pointed at her daughter who had a smug look on her face. “And you, you little stinker, stop egging him on.”

The kids said in unison, “Yes mum.” Like kids who got caught nicking some cookies. She lowered her son back to the floor and then the children went back to organizing their toys.

I chuckled, shaking my head at her efficient parenting. “You? Timid?”

She looked at me with a straight face for a moment before she broke and chuckled out, “You are an entertaining woman, Ange, you know that?”

I was happy that I had made her smile, and I shrugged with a crooked grin on my face.

The ice broken and the uncomfortableness of the disagreement in the other room forgotten, we started just trading questions about ourselves. I steered clear of her marital circumstances and her of my apparent homelessness. I found her utterly fascinating. She worked at a coffee shop as she looked for more stable employment. The pay as a barista wasn't enough to pay for a proper flat like this one.

That is why she was so grateful to have heard about the Flotilla Project. The moment Paya laid eyes on the children she took the family in instantly, shuffling people around in the cabins a bit to accommodate them. Then she was put onto the Slingshot list. She was so thrilled when just a couple months later, her name hit the top.

They wanted to stay in the city core so that Natalie could stay at the same school and keep the friends she has made so far in her first year in school. So, as she had said before, the moment Paya said that a flat had opened up here at the Tennison, she almost burst from excitement as she blurted out, “We'll take it!” All without even laid eyes on the place.

I smiled warmly at her, she seemed to love her children unconditionally and would do anything for them. I exhaled if only everyone's parents were that way. I shook the thoughts of my own parents, and how different they were, out of my head.

She tilted her head at my sudden silence and asked, “You mentioned earlier that you hailed from Manchester, how did you find yourself here in the great melting pot that is our London?”

I almost smiled at her tick, it was sort of endearing, and the fact that it made it look as though she were winking at me made me grin inside.

I exhaled heavily as I regarded her. As much as I wanted it more than anything, I'd most likely never see this woman again after today. I didn't want to confide in her my darkest days, that would be the only thing she would remember the girl from the streets with.

So I brushed it off and placed a hand on her left one that was clenching involuntarily with her breathing. I shrugged slightly and said, “It is a long and sordid tale. I'll tell you mine sometime if you tell me yours.” I nudged my chin to her twitching hand, and she clenched her fist and pulled it away.

She cocked her head to study me intently then said as she nodded, “You know what. I don't talk about it to just anyone, but I have this feeling that your story would be worth it. So, yes. I'll tell you someday, Angie Wells.”

This made me grin even though I'm sure she knew I'd be gone with breeze after the move was over. I offered my hand. “It's a deal then Stephanie Draper.” Using her full name too. She shared a satisfied half smile and shook, then we turned to find Nat tying Wil's sleeves together.

We both broke out laughing, and we stood up and started for them. I said, “I've got the one in the dress.”

She said, “Roger, I've got the one in britches.”

I paused as we separated the giggling duo, I felt... happy. I hadn't felt that since I lost my job and flat.

Paya stepped into the room with a sheepish look, absently twisting her engagement ring on her finger. “Sorry about that ladies, you don't need to witness any premarital strife.” Her eyes were carefully studying Steph with a touch of worry.

I kept my mouth shut and shrugged, Steph just nodded, and we gave her consolatory looks. She grinned at the kids as Stephanie untied Wil's sleeves. Then she looked at me and prompted, “Ready for the next load muscles?”

I nodded, and she said in a chipper tone, “Then we'll be off. Back in a flash Steph, just have an unpacking party with the wee ones while we're out.”

The little ones cheered, Nat chimed out, “Yay! A party!”

They walked us to the door, and I glanced back as Steph smiled at us as she closed the door behind us. I think Paya was making it a game as to who would get to the main floor faster as she kept speeding up every time I passed her on the stairs. I finally allowed her to lead and shook my head as I said to her, “You're as bad as the children, and I get exhausted just watching them.”

She slowed to let me walk beside her as we reached the little lobby hallway on the main floor. She nodded and then said, “Great isn't it?”

I nodded in agreement then cocked my head as I had another insight.

Paya didn't just love children, her tone had longing like she wanted some of her own. She looked to be around thirty to me, maybe eight or nine years older than me. That certainly wasn't too late; I noted she was still playing with her engagement ring; wasn't it?

She noted my scrutiny, and she cocked an eyebrow, maybe in challenge or in question. I just sighed to myself, I had just met the woman, what did I know? Then I put on a sudden burst of speed as we reached the door to exit before her.

Her chuckle bordered on a giggle as she said, “You're just as competitive as June, I swear Ange.” She gave me a little shove from behind and then we piled into her vehicle.

She absently gave her ring one last twist before she started the SUV. She put it in gear and noted my scrutiny. She sighed as we pulled out into traffic. “Sorry for being distracted. I love the man to death, but I'm afraid that my passions are going to cost us our relationship.”

She didn't even glance at me as she spoke, and I didn't interject, knowing she was using me, a stranger, as a sounding board since she'd never see me again. She went on in a distracted tone, “He gave me an ultimatum, and it pains my heart knowing I'm about to lose the man. I can't leave London. The Flotilla. Tabs.”

She paused, I think looking for input. I said, “Steph got pretty stressed when you were arguing.”

She blanched and nodded. “Bloody hell. I should have brought him out into the hall. She didn't need to see that after...” She trailed off and just nodded instead. “I'll apologize. She doesn't need the stress or reminders.”

I tilted my head and said more in question, “I believe she was worried he might become... more than verbal.”

She almost blurted as she looked over in surprise, “Oh heavens no. He may be a stubborn oaf, but there isn't a man more loving and supportive. He wouldn't raise a finger to harm a mouse. This rift that is forming between us is hitting Har harder than me because he knows it is unfair to either of us to ask the other to abandon their dreams. I think we both know what is coming and let me tell you, Ange, it hurts.”

I feebly offered up, “Maybe it will all sort itself out.”

She just nodded absently and said in a faraway tone, “Maybe you're right.” Then she brightened and flashed a smile at me, “Sorry, I shouldn't be unloading my baggage on you.”

I shook my head and assured her, “It's fine really, I understand. It is safe to tell a stranger.”

She chuckled and countered, “You're no stranger, you're my muscle for the day.”

I just shook my head and grinned at her, she refused to look at me as she smiled and said, “Shut up and cue up some music would you?”

I saluted and fired up the car stereo. Before long we were both singing along to some retro beats, and she was glancing over at me with a furrowed brow. What was that all about? We were able to stuff the vehicle to the gunnels with the last of Stephanie's belongings. I had a box and a suitcase on my lap, but we were able to get it all with that load instead of coming back for a third.

The first thing Paya did when she started the SUV, she reached for the radio. She studied me for a moment then tabbed through a playlist that must have been on her mobile.

She selected a song and sat back looking at me like it was a dare. J8's song ‘In Your Eyes’ started blaring, though it was a cut of the iconic song which I wasn't familiar with. Paya seemed to have all of these obscure and unique tracks. Oh wait, if Tabby Cat was her friend, then it made sense that she may have some sort of inside track on unreleased... well, tracks, from other London Harmony artists.

She turned the music down a bit, still in that challenge. Why did it seem this woman was always baiting me? I rolled my eyes at her, to her grinning pleasure, and started to sing. This satisfied her, and we pulled back onto the lane toward the Tennison.

She cocked her head at times as we went along, just listening to me sing as she head-bobbed with the entrancing beat that was the signature to J8's style. She seemed to have a smug look on her face when the song was over, and she just wiggled her fingers dismissively at the radio. I took that as permission for me to find some music for us to listen to.