Chapter Seven

Pandora places the copies on the desk, spins around to bounce back out of the room.

Naomi quickly stuffs a file into a plastic folder, looks up, briefly scratches the space between her lips and nose. "Erm, don't leave just yet please, Pandora. I wanted to talk to you about something."

Pandora slowly slips her hand from the door handle, gradually turns around. "It, it weren't me who left the logs in the toilets, promise! It was Kyle 'n them. They thought it'd be funny, and then –"

Naomi cuts her frown short to raises both brows, "What the hell are you on about?"

"Oh…" Pandora flushes a deep red, rolls her eyes and waves her hand through the air in dismissal. "Nothing," She waves her hand again. "What did you wanna talk to me about?"

Naomi stares at the girl. "Before I say anything else, Pandora, I just want you to know that I think you're strange. Ok, so now that that's out of the way," She says, slipping another file into the plastic folder, "I'm organizing a jog-a-thon to raise money for Cancer's Aid, and," She absently drawls, slides another file into the plastic folder, "I was wondering if you, Emily, and a few others would help me set it up? Help print flyers, set up the sponsor forms; that kind of thing?"

"Awww, that's whizzer cool, charity 'n all that. I once wanted to setup a charity for lads who accidentally get their balls trapped in their trouser zips – happened to my uncle, and now he's only got one ball. My family was sad for days. I even held my own little memorial ceremony for, you know," She hunches her shoulders, cups her mouth, whispers, "The deceased ball."

Naomi's palms her stomach in a slow circular motion, groans in grimace, "Really didn't want to know that."

"Sorry?"

"So can I put you down for helping out, or not?"

"Bet your bloomin' arse you can, and I'll ask Emily about it too if you want!"

"Great." Naomi smiles, clasps her hands on her desk. "By the way, if either of you decide you want to participate in the jog-a-thon as well, you're more than welcome. The more people taking part, the better."

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Pandora finds Emily in the kitchen, nearly dislocates the poor girl's shoulder as she pounces on her in excitement. "Emily! Guess what? Guess what!"

"Ow," She winces, slowly takes her hand up and down her arm, frowns whilst closing a draw in. "What?"

"Naomi's doin' a charity event for Cancer's Aid – a jog-a-thon – and she wants us to help her with it! Flyers, sponsor forms, the whole flamin' shebang! I've already agreed to do it, the jog-a-thon as well, but she asked me to ask you, so you gonna help?"

Not even the kitchen wallpaper expects Emily to look to the ground and sigh, but she does, with a heavy slump of the shoulders and everything.

"What's wrong? Naomi wants you to help her out. Thought you'd be proper buzzin'!"

"It's…It's not that, Panda. I'm just, I'm just trying to keep my distance f-from her…"

Pandora's face falls, and she frowns, as though Emily's decision to cool things on the Naomi front somehow breaks her heart. "But, but you really like her."

Emily looks up, sighs. "I know, but…let's face it: nothing's ever going to happen between us. I, I'd be crap in a relationship, and, and she would never like me back anyway – then there's the whole thing with my mum. Pandora, d-do you know that there are now days where I sometimes sit and compare my physical appearance to my own mother's, rating us both out of ten? She beats me every time. That…" Coffee hues flicker to the safe grey carpet, linger there, "That's not a nice feeling…"

"But they don't like each other now, and weren't Naomi pissed out of her skull when it happened? So you aint got nothin' to stress about?" Pandora raises her eyebrows in hope.

"But she must find my mum attractive on some level. She kissed her. She kissed my mum. I'd, I'd never kiss anyone I wasn't attracted too, at least," – She raises her hand, creates a small space between her thumb and index finger – "A tiny bit. It's a little bit weird. I just don't, I don't really want to be around Naomi if being around her is going to make me feel like, like this. Plus, I'm always so drained after being here all day. Don't think I have the energy to help with the charity event."

"So…" Pandora shakes her head, glum, "You won't do the jog-a-thon?"

"No, I erm," She retracts her hands up into her sleeves, folds an arm around her stomach, mutters, "I don't think so, Pandora."

Pandora stares off blankly, "I'm up shitter's creek now then."

"Why, what's the matter?"

"I've told Naomi I'll do it, and I aint got a shit in hell's clue about how to design flyers 'n all that – that was gonna be your role, 'cause you're boss at all that sort of stuff, aint ya?"

Emily stands there, stares at the one person who, without even seeming to know, has helped her along for the past two months. She feels her own arms lifting to initiate a hug, gently pulls Pandora into her. "Actually...yeah," she nods, "I'll do the flyers." Smiles warmly, pulling back. "I'm being silly, and it's for charity, so..."

"Emily?"

"Yeah?"

"You're way prettier than your mum, just to let you know, inside 'n out. You're bloomin' bonkers to think otherwise!"

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They both reach the elevator in unison.

Emily immediately hugs her midriff, eyes turned down.

Naomi reaches forward, repeatedly knuckles the appropriate button, wills the doors to slide open with a focused stare. "I'm glad I've bumped into you actually, Emily – did Pandora tell you about the charity event I'm putting together?"

"Erm, yeah…she, erm…she did."

They both step inside of the small lift, both watch the steel doors before them slide closed.

"So…" Naomi drawls, peers into the mirror on the wall to her left. She instantly clicks her tongue, tugs straight the dog-eared corner of her collar, then looks to the ruby-haired girl stood beside her. "Is it something that you'd be interested in being a part of?"

Emily's ticker thumps beneath her shirt; she's certain Naomi can see and hear it with their proximity, just wants to close her eyes until the elevator pings, and one of them walks out…

"Emily?"

"Yes," She mutters, opens her eyes, "Yes, I'll do the flyers. Panda's s-said she'll do the, erm, the sponsor forms."

There's a moderately loud snap in the small space as Naomi's palms come together with a cheerful force. "Marvelous." She grins, taking the roll of files back out from under her arm. "Well, I can't really tell you my ideas for the flyers now, since," She holds up the roll of paper, nods at it, "We've both got work to do, but since you already seem to know where I live, it would be good if you could drop round one of the nights this week, and I could really give you an outline as to what I want to achieve."

Emily gulps, then rubs her throat.

"You alright?"

"…Yeah," Clears her throat, mumbles, "So, y-you want me to come round to your, erm, your house to d-discuss ideas for the, the flyers?"

"Erm," Naomi's eyes flicker around the lift, as if in search of whatever it is that Emily is getting at, "Yes. Is that," Frowns, glances elsewhere before returning her eyes to Emily, "Is that a problem?"

Possibly, Emily thinks, But the way my heart is banging around at the moment, might be a bigger one.

"N-No. I'll, erm, I'll sketch out some ideas of m-my own, and, you know," Shrugs a shoulder, "Bring them w-with me. Is seven-thirty Tuesday a-alright?"

"All my days play out exactly the same way unless it's a Friday, when my daughter stays round, so yeah," Naomi nods, smiles, tucking an unruly strand of blonde behind her ear. "Tuesday is fine."

"Ok then," She takes a deep breath, blows it out, "Tuesday, seven-thirty."

"Thanks Emily."

The lift suddenly stops, jolts them both in a turbulent moment.

Naomi quickly presses a palm to the wall, steadies herself. "They seriously need to sort this bloody lift out. Balance and coordination doesn't improve with age, and I'm one who'll prosecute."

Emily wants to raise her hand, chuckle quietly into the back of it, but she doesn't. Instead, steadies her own small frame with a grasp around the chrome bar that's attached to the wall closest to her.

"I'm lucky I gym regularly – Is this door going to open or what?"

As if privy to the tall woman's grunts of complaint, the doors slowly part; the mechanics of it loud and hostile sounding. "So I should think so!" She tells them, tuts, steps onto the third floor. She throws a small smile over her shoulder as she disappears down the narrow hall, says: "Thanks again for helping me out."

Emily steps forward on one foot, jabs the fourth floor button. Once the doors close, she steps back, softly shuts her eyes, rubs her sternum in slow circles. "What on Earth have you just agreed to?"

Rob twist his keys in the ignition, feels the engine ferociously begin to rumble beneath him. He reaches in the dark for the glove box, suddenly stopping to eye his disheveled reflection in the rear-view mirror. Only manages five second's eye contact with himself, before he looks out of the window at the bungalow he's just snuck out of, stinking of perfume and other feminine scents. His eyes fall closed, and he leans against the steering wheel, cups his forehead in his hand, sighs: "What the fuck have you just done, you bloody muppet?"

Naomi carefully holds the hot mug out. "Here you are."

The thin wisps of steam that float into Emily's vision stir her from her disbelief at the fact that she's currently sat on Naomi's cream couch, looking around her living room. "Oh, erm," She jars, places one of her template flyers down on the glass table, takes the mug into both hands, quietly offering, "Thank you."

Naomi flexes the fingers of her hand, sits back down on the couch and readjusts the specs sat on her nose. She leans forward slightly, picks up her favorite of the flyer designs so far, and runs slow eyes over it, absently says: "Makes a change, me making you hot beverages, doesn't it?"

"Mmm." Emily nods, taking a cautioned sip of her tea. "How t-the, how the mighty have fallen."

Naomi lowers the flyer from her face, smirks at the ruby-haired girl over her specs in a moment of silence. Eventually clears her throat with a gentle ahem, holds the flyer in her hand back up, and continues to inspect it.

"...Sorry."

"What for?" Naomi frowns, though she continues to scrutinize the small flyer. "It was funny. But once I'm back in my power suit tomorrow morning, expect to feel it." Her dimples emerge in her soft but slightly menacing chuckle, as electric blue drop to the bottom of the design. "I'm going to have you making me coffee until your fingers are stained and numb."

Emily doesn't respond, utterly lost in gazing the mirthful older woman over the rim of her mug. It feels strange, seeing her like this, in a t-shirt too big for her and a pair of baggy red shorts, blonde hair tussled back in a lax bun. No tight-fitted grey blazer, no white shirt, and no slacks. It's strange.

But nice too.

She smiles to herself, if not for anything else but for how far she's come since arriving on Naomi's doorstep an hour and a half ago, a trembling, stammering, klutz.

She's suddenly reminded that the anxiety management classes commence in two weeks, and although the thought has her bricking it, her heart fills at the thought of one day being able to interact with others without the mortifying stammer, and that constant fear of doing or saying something inept.

"Yes!" Naomi suddenly nods emphatically, shakes the small flyer at Emily, then lays it down between them and pats it, once, "This one is the one I want to use. It's fantastic, conveys the message of unity, and it's colourful." She fingers out the flyer's title, twists up her mouth momentarily, before relaxing her lips. "If we could just change the colour of this here. Not too fond of the green - maybe change it to gold? Everything else is great, otherwise. Great work."

"Glad you erm..." Clears her throat, smiles, "Like it. I spent f-forever on that one, in particular."

In the next moment, Naomi reaches into the pocket of her shorts, pulls a twenty pound note out, gestures for the other girl to accept it. "Just a small token of my thanks." She smiles warm and lengthily.

"N-No, it's, it's ok. I did it for, for charity. It's for..." Stares long into the golden, milky, liquid swimming around her mug, "Charity..."

The other woman shrugs with both shoulders, carefully folds the money and holds it up at Emily. "It really doesn't matter what you say; you're leaving here tonight twenty quid richer, so you might as well just take it now, and save us both the energy."

"...Erm..."

Without waiting to hear the rest, Naomi gently slots the money into the breast pocket of the shorter girl's shirt, uncurls her long limbs as she stands and looks at the clock through a quick yawn. "Quarter past nine." She reads, glances over her shoulder at the girl who can't seem to stop staring at her breast pocket. "I'm assuming your parents don't know you're here?"

Emily slowly lifts uncertain hazel hues to Naomi, then looks down, shaking her head. Hears the other woman sigh lengthily.

"Right, well, maybe I shouldn't have had those glasses of wine earlier, because I seriously can't be bothered to operate a vehicle right now..."

"...It's ok. I'll j-just get a," Blinks profusely whilst rubbing the back of her neck, fidgeting. "A taxi..."

Naomi stands there for a moment, blinks a few times as she stares at Emily, can't help but imagine some sleazy taxi driver leering at her in the rear-view mirror, before locking all four car doors, and smirking. The imagery is all too significant, all too real for her.

All too real.

"Erm," She scratches the point of her nose, strides over to the window and pulls the curtain back a little, frowns at how dark it is beyond the garden. Looks back at Emily. "If you don't mind taking the couch, you can stay here. You might be a bit late into work though."

Emily looks up, blinks. "A-Are y-you sure?"

Naomi draws back from the window, smoothes the curtains down, and smiles at Emily as she begins to collect some of the papers lain on the glass table into a tidy pile, winks. "Long as you don't nick anything whilst I'm sleeping, we're good."

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"I like that your daughter's mixed race." Emily blurts all over the silence, blushes an unflattering crimson when Naomi re-emerges from her bedroom in nothing but black lace and tosses her a thick blue blanket.

"That gonna be warm enough for you, or..."

Emily hastily lowers her eyes, balls up the thick blanket in her arms, nods. "Yeah, it's f-f-fine...Thanks."

Halfway through her bedroom door, Naomi pauses and spins back around, pulling loose her bun. "What were you saying just now, before I brought out the blanket?"

Emily startles slightly, flits her eyes straight back at the floor as opposed to the ab definition of Naomi's beautifully toned stomach. "Oh, erm, just that I like that she's mixed race, your daughter I mean. It's..." She shrugs, smiles at the wall-hanging picture of Thea and Naomi on some beach, laughing at a destroyed sandcastle. "Different."

Naomi frowns. "Actually, it's not all that different. We do live in the twenty-first century. Everywhere you look, there's a person of dual-heritage."

Dual-heritage. Emily feels that for all her twenty years, she should've already stumbled across that term. But that's not of main concern when Naomi is staring at her through partial glare.

"I-I didn't mean anything by it. I just," Sighs, quietly clicks her tongue in her mouth. "...I don't know. I'm, n-not the best with w-words..."

Naomi remains silent for a second, then: "Night Emily."

As she disappears into her room, Emily follows the dimples at the older woman's lower back with her eyes, sighing as she scoots down into the couch and throws the blanket over her head. "Such a fuck up."

Thoughts? And thanks for reading.