Author's Notes: As always, I am so sorry for the delay. This was a harder chapter to write than I expected. Multiple characters are a nightmare to work with.
I hope there is something to entertain.
And major thanks and appreciation to catty-words on tumblr for allowing me to use her thoughts on goats for this story. If I've mangled her thoughts, that's all on me.
Chapter 28
Maeve and Ola sat side by side at the table on the balcony at Otis' home, their backs to the railing. Maeve lit a cigarette and turned her gaze in the direction Ola was staring and watched Eric holding a spindle in his hand and waving around what looked to be a small colourful barrel that was tied to it with a piece of string. Maeve smiled to herself.
"He's very dedicated," Ola murmured.
"I don't even know what the fuck he's supposed to be doing," Maeve said.
"There's a hole in the bottom of the barrel and he's supposed to flip it up and catch it on the spindle he's holding. I had a friend with one. It's kind of relaxing."
"Doesn't look relaxing."
"It's in the way you approach it."
"I'd have thrown the fucking thing over the balcony by now."
Otis stepped onto the balcony and sat at the table opposite the two girls.
"So did you find them?" Maeve asked.
"I'll look for them later," Otis said and Maeve thought there was something odd in his tone.
"Don't leave it too long. We've got to figure out what we're cooking tonight."
"I found Aimee and Steve," he said offhandedly.
Maeve frowned for a moment then realisation struck. "The downstairs bedroom?" she laughed. "I told Aimee there was one."
"She found it," Otis said blandly.
Maeve giggled. "Did you cop an eyeful?"
"She was fully dressed," Otis said with as much dignity as he could muster. "I think. I didn't stick around to notice how fully."
"You are going so red, Otis," Ola said.
Otis opened his mouth to speak and Eric put the barrel and spindle on the table in front of him.
"This thing's broken, Otis," Eric said.
Otis picked up the executive toy with relief.
"It's not broken, Eric," he said. "I'll show you."
Maeve and Ola and Eric watched as Otis shuffled to sit sideways on the chair, held the spindle in his hand horizontally to the ground and used his other hand to settle the barrel hanging vertically on its string. After a moment, he gave a quick flick of his wrist, moved the spindle to the vertical position and caught the barrel on the spindle.
With a soft smirk of satisfaction, he put the executive toy back on the table.
"I'm going to make myself another smoothie," Eric said with as much dignity he could muster. "Does anybody want one?"
"No, thanks," said Otis and Maeve in unison.
"Can I get a banana smoothie?" asked Ola, enthusiastically. "I love banana smoothies."
Otis and Maeve winced.
Eric paused momentarily then said, "I do not touch bananas but I will show you how to make your own banana smoothie."
"Oh, I know how to make a banana smoothie," Ola said.
"Then I will show you how to make Eric Effiong's Miraculous Berry Yoghurt Smoothie with added bananas."
"Okay," Ola said with a smile, intrigued.
She stood up and walked around the table.
"Get back on the horse that threw you," Maeve said softly.
Eric looked at her firmly, wagged one finger left to right in the air and said, "No."
Eric turned and walked into the house, Ola following.
Maeve gazed after him and muttered, "Fucking Untouchables."
Otis gazed at her fondly.
"Don't look at me like that," she said. "You've made me fucking soft."
"I haven't made you anything. You were always soft. Scary. But soft."
Maeve poked out her tongue at him.
"The wind will change and your face will stay like that," Aimee said as she stepped onto the balcony.
"You took your time," Maeve said, knowingly, as Steve followed his girlfriend onto the balcony.
"Mum said if something's worth doing, it's worth doing well," Aimee said, knowingly, as she sat down on a chair next to the railing.
"You didn't waste time," Maeve smirked.
"Mum was hanging around all morning. Couldn't get away."
As Steve sat down on a chair beside Aimee, Maeve noticed the embarrassment wafting through Otis.
"Um…," Otis began to mumble. "I'm sorry-"
"Oh, don't worry about it," Aimee said, unconcerned. "You never saw anything."
Otis stood up and said, "I'll go get those cookbooks," and hurried into the house.
Maeve and Aimee exchanged knowing smiles then the sound of the blender shattered the silence.
"What's that?" asked Aimee, startled.
"Eric's making smoothies," Maeve said.
"Oh," Aimee said, leaping to her feet. "I love smoothies."
She hurried into the house. Steve fondly watched her departure, gave Maeve a small smile then stood and followed his girlfriend.
Maeve stubbed out her cigarette then looked across the table at the executive toy. She leaned forward, reached over the table and grabbed it. She held the spindle out, let the barrel settle and attempted a flip.
As the blender settled into silence, Otis stepped onto the balcony and watched fondly as Maeve futilely attempted to get the barrel to sit on the spindle, biting her lip and furrowing her brow in concentration.
Otis suppressed an adoring laugh and walked over to the table, placing the books on it with a thump. He looked up at Maeve and blinked in surprise as she tossed the executive toy over the railing.
"Why did you do that?" he asked, shocked.
"It was pissing me off."
Otis smirked and shook his head as he sat down and pushed the cookbooks toward her.
"Okay," Maeve said as she opened the first book. "We pick six recipes and then people can choose which one they want and we go with the majority?"
"You pick six recipes," Otis corrected. "Something you have a desire to cook."
"Let me know which ones you have the ingredients for," Maeve said as she studied.
"If there's anything extra we need, I can ask Ola to give me a lift to the shops," Otis said.
"No, we'll just go with what we have in the house," Maeve said, trying to not respond to the twinge that went through her.
They continued glancing through the cookbooks in silence for a few moments then Otis looked at Maeve thoughtfully.
"What made you think of inviting Ola to stay?" he asked.
"Keeping an eye on my rival," Maeve smirked.
"You have no rival," Otis said.
Maeve shrugged. "I don't know. It just seemed a good opportunity to get to know her."
Otis studied her, sensing there was something more.
"She—" Otis began then stopped as Ola stepped onto the balcony, carrying her smoothie, with Eric following, carrying his own.
"This is really nice, Eric," Ola said. "But the banana is the piece de resistance. You should try it."
"They are evil things," Eric said. "Nothing of that nature will ever pass these lips again."
"Are you allergic?" Ola asked as she sat down.
"No, I—" Eric began.
"Yes," Otis said in a serious tone. "Eric is allergic to bananas. Last time he had anything to do with bananas he threw up everywhere. Isn't that right, Eric?"
Maeve gasped silently, put her hand against the side of her mouth and mouthed, "Mean."
Otis smirked and put his hand against the side of his mouth and mouthed, "Learnt from the best."
"What did you learn from the best?" Ola asked in as innocent a tone she could find and Otis blushed while Maeve pressed her lips together, hoping she was covering both her smirk and the twinge that ran through her again.
"Otis learnt how to be a really really sore loser," Eric said. "He is only being mean because I am the Super Smash Champion."
"Hey—" Otis protested.
"You play Super Smash Bros.?" Ola asked.
"And I am the reigning Super Smash Champion," Eric preened.
"It's a temporary blip, Eric," Otis said, aggrieved.
"Do you play?" Eric asked Ola.
"Yeah, I love it," Ola said enthusiastically.
"Are you the champion in your house?" Eric asked.
"I'm the only one who plays in my house so, yes," Ola replied.
"Then I challenge you. I throw down the gauntlet. I… I… I…" Eric gave up trying to find another phrase. "We will go face to face and cross swords at dawn."
"Bit too early for me," Ola said.
"We will cross swords after we finish our smoothies," Eric said.
"What about me?" Otis asked, plaintively.
"You already lost, Otis," said Eric with a dismissive wave of his hand. "This will be a Contest of Champions."
"I thought Otis was the Champion," Aimee said as she stepped onto the balcony, carrying her smoothie, Steve following behind with his own smoothie.
"Super Smash Bros., Aimes," Maeve clarified as Aimee sat down, Steve sitting on the chair beside her.
Aimee turned to Otis and said, "Steve wants to know why there's so many cocks and minges around."
"Otis' mum is a sex therapist, remember?" Maeve said.
"Yeah, but why does that mean there's so many cocks and minges?" Aimee asked.
"Mum has… an appreciation of the many forms of sexuality as embodied in the various modes of artwork and craftmanship generated across numerous diverse cultures," Otis said, deliberately pretentious.
Aimee pondered this for a moment. "You mean, she likes cocks and minges?" she asked.
"More or less," Otis said wryly.
Ola looked around the table. "Where'd the toy go?"
Otis walked from the hallway into the kitchen and placed the executive toy on the bench beside the open cookbooks that were spread out before Maeve.
"Did they decide what they want?" he asked her.
She pointed at a recipe in one of the books that a had a yellow post-it note marked '3' stuck to the double-page spread. A series of pencilled strokes on the post-it note indicated it was a unanimous decision.
"That was a very formal way of choosing what to cook," Maeve said as she began closing the other cookbooks.
"It's good to have an organised system," Otis said.
Maeve glanced up at him fondly. "How long before we have to start?"
Otis looked at the clock and said, "About an hour."
"What do you want to do until then?"
Otis looked through the window at the balcony. "Where are the others?"
"Eric took Ola upstairs to play Smash Bros. Aimee and Steve are watching a movie. Wanna join them?"
"In a minute," Otis said and leaned back against the bench.
"What's up?" Maeve asked, leaning back against the bench beside him, looking up at him curiously.
"Did mum tell you she was going to call Gramps tomorrow night, ask if you can stay?"
"She didn't say anything."
"You were right. I should have asked first before making the offer."
Maeve leant against him and he put his arm around her. "It's okay. Haven't lost anything if he's not good with it."
"He should be."
"As long as you call me every day."
"Promise."
"You two look cozy," Aimee said as she stepped into the kitchen.
"We are," Maeve murmured.
"Just getting a drink. You don't mind?"
"Of course not," Otis said. "There's some in the backroom fridge if there's nothing there you like."
Aimee opened the fridge and took out a can. "No, these are fine." She took another can.
"What are you watching?" Maeve asked.
"Steve, what are we watching?" Aimee yelled.
Indistinct syllables floated through to them.
"Groundhog Day," Aimee said.
"You understood that?" Otis asked.
"Yeah," said Aimee. "It's like he's one of those things that only a dog can hear. His voice is on the right level for my ears."
"Are you comparing yourself to a dog, Aimes?" Maeve asked, amused.
"No, I'm a penguin," Aimee said then basked in the comfort of seeing Otis and Maeve so comfortably entwined with each other. "Hey, thanks for inviting us over," she said to Otis.
"Thank you for coming," Otis said.
"But you need to fix the lock on that bedroom door. I could have been starkers. I don't want to kill you. Maeve's too happy with you." Aimee gave Maeve a pleased smile and walked back to the loungeroom.
"I'll ask Ola to ask her dad to fix it some time when he's over," Otis said to Maeve as the burning in his face began to dissipate.
"I think your house is cursed, muppet. That's the third time we know of."
They heard footsteps clumping down the stairs then an affronted Eric walked into the kitchen.
"That controller is broken, Otis. You have to get a new one," he said.
Maeve extracted herself from Otis' arm just before a flummoxed Ola entered the kitchen. "It's one game, Eric. Even I don't win every game."
"Do we have a new Smash Champion?" Maeve asked.
"Not until Ola plays Otis," Eric said. "With the broken controller."
Eric knelt on Otis' bed behind Ola and Otis as they were locked in battle.
"Smash him, Ola," cried Eric. "Smash him."
"I'm trying, Eric," Ola said.
"You are going down, Otis," Eric said. "Ola is going to smash you."
"Will you stop screaming in my ear, Eric?" Otis said.
"You are going—Noooo," Eric cried in despair as Otis cheered.
"Yes," Otis hissed triumphantly.
"You're really good," Ola said, impressed.
"So are you," Otis said. "That was a challenge."
"Are you implying I am not a challenge?" Eric asked, affronted.
"You're both challenging," Otis said. "Now, sit down so I can smash you and reclaim the title."
Ola stood up and Eric sat beside Otis. "You swapped controllers with Ola, didn't you? You gave her the broken controller."
"The controller is not broken, Eric. Here," Otis said, offering him the controller. "You take this one. I won with it. It can't be broken."
Eric suspiciously took the controller and Otis picked up the other one.
Otis and Eric began playing the game as Ola studied his record collection. "You have a lot of records."
"Most of them are from mum and dad," Otis said, concentrating.
"My mum loved old records," Ola said. "But our player broke. Can't play them."
"Put something on, if you like," Otis offered.
Ola studied the records and pulled out a Joe Cocker album. "Mum loved this," Ola said wistfully.
"Put it on," Otis said.
Ola put the record on the player, then lowered the volume as the music began to play.
"I used to think he was singing The lift goes up where we belong," she said.
"Mondegreens," Otis said.
"What's a mondegreen?" Ola asked.
"Misheard lyrics," Otis said then grimaced as Eric almost smashed him.
"Keep talking, Ola. You're distracting him," Eric urged.
"Famous one is 'Scuse me while I kiss this guy," Otis said.
Ola thought for a moment, then said with recognition, "'Scuse me while I kiss the sky."
"You know old music?" Otis asked, surprised.
"I told you, mum liked old records."
"Why are they called mondegreens?" Eric asked, concentrating on escaping Otis' next blow.
"The woman who made up the term heard 'laid him on the green' as 'Lady Mondegreen'," Otis said.
"Like when I thought he was singing Riding on the bear's tits?" Eric asked.
"What?" Ola laughed.
"Hiding on the backstreets," Otis explained.
"What's this about bears tits?" Maeve asked as she entered the room, hoping she was presenting a neutral expression.
Otis glanced at her and Eric struck. "Yes! You are gone!"
"I was distracted," Otis protested.
"Thank you, Maeve," Eric crowed.
Maeve bit her lip. "Sorry," she murmured.
"Is it time to start cooking?" Otis asked.
"A few minutes," Maeve said, walking over to her bag. "Need my cigarettes. What was that about bears tits?"
"Mondegreens," Otis said.
"What?"
"Misheard lyrics," he said.
"Like when Kurt sang Aqua seafoam shame and I heard I'll proceed from shame?" Maeve asked.
"Exactly," Otis said.
"Who sang that?" Eric asked.
"Nirvana," Maeve said.
"That lyric didn't make sense," Ola said. "Your one sounds better."
"So do you have a new champion?" Maeve asked.
"Still me," Eric said.
"Do you want a game, Maeve?" Ola asked.
"Not my thing," Maeve said, shaking her head.
"Then it's me and Ola again," Eric said.
Otis stood up and handed the controller to Ola as she sat beside Eric.
"Do you want me to come down and we can start?" Otis asked Maeve.
"Just give it a bit," Maeve said. "You'll have to play Ola again after Eric, won't you? I'll have a couple of cigarettes, then we can start."
"Okay," Otis said and turned to watch Eric and Ola battle.
Maeve glanced at them and walked from the room.
"Tell Ola about that one on your grandfather's records," Eric said.
"Oh, yeah," Otis said, laughing at the memory. "Gramps has a lot of old records. I mean, really old. And one of them, a guy's singing I'll build you a great big house if you come and cook my meals."
"What did you think he was singing?" Ola asked.
"Suck my mule," Otis said, sheepishly.
Ola gave a great cackle of laughter, Eric gave a great cry of triumph and Maeve pressed her lips together as she walked down the stairs.
Maeve stood at the bench in the kitchen, de-boning her third chicken thigh, as Otis placed a crisper-tray of vegetables on the bench and then kept glancing at the recipe and counting out the vegetables to place beside the chopping board.
Ola picked up the executive toy from the bench beside Maeve.
"Can I do anything?" Ola asked.
"No, thanks," Maeve said, glancing at her before returning her attention to the chicken. "We're good."
"This is becoming our thing," Otis said.
Ola nodded and walked away, holding out the spindle of the toy as she walked towards Eric who was standing near the doorway.
"I'll show you how you do it," she said to him. "You let it settle then you have to bring it straight up without tipping."
Steve and Aimee – half-sitting on the kitchen table - watched as Ola let the barrel become still, tilted the spindle slightly down then snapped her wrist up and caught the barrel perfectly.
"Now you try," she said, handing the toy to Eric.
Eric took the toy dubiously, repeated Ola's moves and completely failed to catch the barrel on the spindle.
"I tell you it's broken," he pouted.
"Just keep trying," Ola urged. "A quick snap of the wrist upwards."
"Can I have a go after you?" Aimee asked.
Eric tried and failed again.
"Here," he said sulkily, holding the toy out.
Aimee rose from the table and took it gleefully then held out the spindle and waited as the barrel's movement slowed.
"Now," Aimee said, concentrating intently, "let it settle and then straight up."
She snapped her wrist and the barrel flew up directly in front of Steve's face.
"Careful, babe," Steve said, startled. "I like my nose."
"Sorry," Aimee said, sheepishly, and moved away from everyone to try again.
Eric watched Aimee as she tried again. And again.
Ola half-sat on the table beside Steve and watched as Aimee tried a third time.
"Do you get it every time?" Steve asked.
"No," Ola said. "But I've managed a hat-trick a couple of times."
Otis replaced the crisper-tray of vegetables in the fridge then glanced at Aimee trying yet again to get the barrel on the spindle. He smiled softly then returned to the bench.
"So what do you need me to do now?" he asked.
Maeve looked up from de-boning her fifth chicken thigh and glanced at the recipe then said, "You can lay out all the containers of flour and shit."
"Okay," Otis said and walked over to the pantry.
Steve looked at Ola and asked, "So, you're starting at Moordale at the beginning of next term?"
"Yeah," Ola said. "I've been accepted."
"So why are you starting at a new school partway through the year?"
"My current school is in administration because the headmistress embezzled the finances and is on the run in Mexico with the geography sub."
"Ohhh, that is so romantic," Aimee said as she failed yet again to catch the barrel on the spindle. She absently handed the toy to Eric and walked across to Steve, putting her arms around him and smiling up at him. "Can we embezzle the school and go on the run in France?"
"I think the most we'd get is the petty cash box and it would be wrong," Steve said, smiling at her fondly.
"But doesn't that make it romantic?" Aimee said, kissing him.
Ola looked away and noticed Otis putting his mouth close to Maeve's ear.
"If the clinic money goes missing, I know who my first suspect is," Otis whispered.
Maeve nudged him and did her best to suppress a giggle.
Ola looked away and watched Eric still failing to get the barrel on the spindle, trying her best to ignore the snogging couple beside her.
"I give up," Eric said, placing the toy on the end of the bench near him.
"It just takes practice and patience," Ola said.
"I wish we'd gone to see Hugh Jackman now," he pouted.
"I like Hugh Jackman," Ola said. "Were you going to see a movie?"
"Yes, but there's a threefer next weekend so we're going to that instead."
"What movies?"
"Not sure. Do you want to come?" Eric asked her. "You can be my plus-one."
"That'd be great," Ola said, then hesitated. "If everybody's okay with it."
"Ye-e-e-ah," Aimee said, as if it was obvious.
"That'd be good," Steve said.
Eric belatedly realised he should have asked the two most significant people first.
"It's okay if Ola comes with us to the threefer next weekend, isn't it?" he asked Otis and Maeve, hoping his tone wasn't as nervous as it sounded to his own ears.
"That's fine," Maeve said without turning around.
"Yeah, sure, that'd be great, Ola," Otis said, glancing at her then turning back to his task on the bench.
"Great," Eric said, relieved, turning back to Ola. "You are officially my plus-one for our Hugh Jackman threefer."
"Are you sure you're okay with that?" Otis murmured.
"Yeah, it's fine, muppet," Maeve murmured.
"Is Hugh Jackman your crush?" Aimee asked.
"I like Hugh Jackman, but no. Will Smith," Ola said.
"He's cute," Aimee agreed.
"Who's yours?" Ola asked.
"That guy from Buffy. Y'know, the blonde vampire."
"Spike," Ola said.
"I just call him Blondie."
"So who's your crush, Steve?" Ola asked.
"I don't really have a crush but Kate Winslet is really beautiful," Steve said.
Ola nodded in approval then turned to Eric. "What about you, Eric?"
"Denzel," Eric said without hesitation.
"Yep. I think you and Denzel would make a really good couple."
Ola turned to look at Otis and Maeve still working at the bench.
"What about you two?" Ola asked. "Who's your crush, Otis?"
Otis turned to face them, noticing Maeve press her lips together as he glanced at her in passing.
"Emma Thompson," Otis said.
"Oh, that's—" Eric began then realised. "A woman older than your mother," he course-corrected.
"Not in Sense & Sensibility, she wasn't," Otis said.
"I like that movie," Steve said. "It's got Kate Winslet in it, too."
Otis turned back to the bench and out of the corner of his eye saw the grateful smile on Maeve's face.
"What about you, Maeve?" Ola asked. "Do you have a celebrity crush?"
"Fozzie Bear," Maeve said and forced herself not to giggle at Otis' only half-suppressed snort.
Eric then Aimee then Steve were sitting on one side of the kitchen table. Ola then Otis then Maeve were sitting on the other side. They were still near the beginning of their meal.
"This is really great, Maeve," Ola said as she finished a mouthful.
"Otis takes a lot of the credit," Maeve said.
"You were in charge. I was just assisting," Otis said.
"I would have burnt the parsnips if you hadn't reminded me," Maeve said.
"That's what assistants are for. You had everything completely under control."
"I've never cooked anything," Aimee said, plaintively.
"Never mind, Aimes," Steve said. "I haven't either. Except for toast and such."
"Hey, maybe we can learn to cook together," Aimee said. "That'd be cool. Maeves and O-man looked so cool together."
"Maeves and O-man?" Maeve asked, grimacing.
"Yeah," said Aimee. "They're some of my names for you."
"You have names for us?" Maeve asked, incredulously.
"Yeah," said Aimee, as if it was obvious.
"You've never said any names before," Maeve said.
"Well, you've only been together a week. I've had to think them up."
"Nine days," Otis and Maeve said in unison.
"What?" Aimee asked, puzzled.
"We've been together nine days," Otis said. "About nine-and-a-half at this point."
"Oh, you two have been together ever since Adam—" Eric said, then stopped abruptly.
"Don't remind us of Adam," Maeve muttered.
"Who's Adam?" Ola asked.
"Headmaster's son. Complete dickhead," said Maeve.
"My ex," said Aimee. "Had to dump him. He flashed the school."
"What?" asked Ola, surprised.
"In the canteen," Maeve said.
"Why would he do that?" Ola asked.
"Because his dick's so big he hasn't got enough blood left for his brain," Maeve said, putting down her utensils and holding out her hands. "Two coke cans. Long and round."
Ola looked impressed.
"I haven't seen him at school the last couple of days," Otis said. "Hey, Eric, did you see Adam the last few days?"
"No," said Eric after a moment, hoping no-one caught the undertone in his voice.
"I heard his dad sent him off to military school," said Steve.
"Really?" asked Aimee.
"That's what I heard," said Steve.
"Oh, thank fucking christ," said Maeve.
"There you go, Eric," said Otis, pleased. "You don't have to worry about Adam anymore."
"Yeah," said Eric, uncertainly.
"That's fantastic," said Otis.
"Yeah, yeah… fantastic," said Eric.
"What's…?" began Ola, confused. "Why…?"
"Adam bullied Eric for years," Maeve explained.
"I thought you'd be happier, Eric," Otis said, puzzled.
"I am, I am," said Eric. "It's just…"
"Takes a bit of getting used to?" asked Steve.
"Yeah," said Eric.
"I used to get bullied," said Steve. "Until I had a growth spurt and…" He mimed lifting weights.
"That's how you became Top-Heavy Steve?" Aimee asked.
"Is that one of your names for me?" Steve asked with an uncertain grimace.
"I mean it in a good way, babe," Aimee said reassuringly.
"Well, I, for one, am very glad Adam is no longer with us," Otis said.
"You make it sound as if he died," Maeve said.
"I wish Mr Groff would leave," Aimee said.
"I met him," Ola said. "I don't think I liked him."
"Nobody likes him," Steve said then realised almost everybody at the table was staring at him in surprise. "What? I don't like him either."
"No, it's just that, nobody has ever heard you say a bad word about anybody," said Maeve, amused.
"There are people I dislike," protested Steve. "I just don't focus on them. I prefer focussing on the people I do like."
"Like me?" asked Aimee.
Steve put his arm around her. "Like my gorgeous penguin."
Aimee snuggled her head against him.
"Well," said Otis. "The holidays are coming up and Mr Groff liked to go camping with Adam so maybe without Adam he'll get lost and never come back and we never have to see him again."
"You've gone off at me for wishing harm to other people," Maeve said, affronted.
"I don't wish harm to him," Otis said. "I just wish he would find a cabin in the woods and stay there and live off nuts and berries for the rest of his life."
Soft music played in the background as the group sat on the floor in the loungeroom, surrounding one of the footstools that had a Scrabble board on it. Bowls of crisps and plates of biscuits were in close proximity to all.
Maeve and Aimee studied the tiles in the holder sitting before themselves.
"Gawd," Aimee groaned. "I can't see anything."
"I can," Maeve said. "But it's not much."
Maeve put out H and E to make THE on the board.
Otis noted the tally then turned to Ola sitting beside him.
"I was so afraid they were going to take our spot," he said.
"Do you want to put it out?" Ola asked.
"You can," Otis said and watched as Ola took their U, I, Q, Z, C, A and blank tiles and, fitting in with the tiles already on the board, laid out the word QUIZZICAL, crossing two triple word squares and a double letter square for the Z.
"What?" Steve asked in disbelief.
"Fuck off," Maeve said.
"Awwww," Aimee groaned.
"You can't do that," Eric protested.
"I think we have," Otis said smugly as he began to tally the score.
"Fucking hell," Maeve said.
"There's no more tiles," Ola said.
"I think we've won," Otis said.
Maeve looked at Steve. "Do we care who comes second?"
Steve shook his head. "Do you care, Eric?"
"No," Eric said, glumly.
"How much did that get us?" Ola asked.
"342," Otis said.
"Yes," Ola said in triumph, grabbing Otis' shoulder and shaking him enthusiastically.
Maeve felt her shoulders tense and she looked at the bowl of chips her hand was reaching into.
"That was a very good game," Otis said. "Thank you, everybody."
"Nobody likes a smug winner, muppet," Maeve muttered.
"342?" Eric said in disbelief. "I don't believe it."
"Sounds about right," Steve said, glumly.
"Are we playing again?" Otis asked.
Maeve shook her head.
"I've been squashed enough for one night," Steve said.
"I'm not playing that again," Eric said.
"Do we want to play something else?" Otis asked.
"I can think of something we could play," Maeve said blandly.
"Or we can just sit and listen to the music," Otis said quickly. "Talk. Dance."
"I think I'll make myself a cuppa," Aimee said, standing up. "Steve, do you want to come help me make myself a cuppa?"
"Yeah, sure, my little penguin," Steve said, rising to his feet.
Aimee put her arm through his and probably did not mean for the others to hear her murmur, "Thanks, my big stallion."
They walked through to the kitchen and Otis and Maeve glanced at each other. Maeve nodded at Otis' quizzical look.
"So what's the school like?" Ola asked. "What are the teachers like?"
"Miss Sands is nice," Maeve said. "She does English and gym."
"Mr Wilson does maths," said Otis. "He's hopeless."
"I don't think he's that bad," Maeve said.
"Yeah, but you're really smart," Otis responded. "I can't understand him half the time when he's explaining things."
"Maybe you should get yourself a tutor," Maeve said with a gentle smile.
"Mr Hendrix is a drunk," Eric said. "He does most of the science classes."
"And the drama class," Otis said.
"And the swing band," Maeve said.
"I am in Swing Band," Eric said to Ola, proudly. "I play the French horn. Not a trombone," he said pointedly to no-one in particular.
"How long have you been playing?" Ola asked.
"Four years," Eric said.
"You must be pretty good by now," Ola said.
"Well," Eric said, squirming uncomfortably. "I haven't had much proper practice. I only joined this year."
"You're getting better," Maeve said.
"Really?" Eric asked, uncertainly.
"Yeah," Otis said, nodding. "Last assembly you played sounded so much better than the first one this year."
"You could tell which was me?" Eric asked dubiously.
"There was only one French horn," Otis said.
"Do you play anything?" Ola asked Maeve.
Maeve shook her head. "No. You?"
"I played the recorder when I was seven," Ola said. "Not very well."
"Do you sing?" Eric asked.
"No. Me and the proper note always seem to be staggering around each other and occasionally we'll collide," Ola said. She turned to Maeve. "Do you sing?"
"No."
"That is not true," Eric said. "Otis said you and he were singing the other night."
"Not very well," Maeve said.
"You sang like an angel," Otis said.
"You have a tin ear," Maeve murmured, trying to conceal how good that felt to hear.
Eric leaned closer to Maeve and whispered conspiratorially, "He said he was going to suggest you see if you could join the band that played at the dance."
"You can fuck right off with that one," Maeve said, firmly.
"Are they looking for a female singer?" Ola asked.
"I don't know," Otis said. "I just thought it was a good idea."
"So how did you know I was wearing a suit at the dance?" Ola asked Eric. "Otis said you arrived after I left."
"I saw you walking out and thought, 'Wow, that girl is looking ferocious in that suit'," Eric said. "I didn't realise it was you until Aimee said you were the one wearing the suit."
Ola frowned and pondered then had a realisation. "That was you talking to the old guy?"
"My dad," Eric said.
"You looked cool," Ola said.
"I was schmick," Eric preened.
"You were what?" Maeve asked.
"Schmick," Eric said.
"If you say so," Maeve muttered.
Eric glanced at the doorway to the kitchen. "They've been a long time making their cuppa," he said, frowning.
"They're not making a cuppa, Eric," Otis said.
"What are they doing?" Eric asked, puzzled.
"Downstairs bedroom," Maeve murmured.
"Oh," mouthed Eric and stood up.
"Don't go checking on them," Otis said with alarm.
"I'm just going to make myself a cuppa," Eric said, offended by the suggestion he would ever think of doing that. "Chocolate," he amended. "Does anybody want one?"
Maeve and Otis shook their heads and murmured, "No."
"No, thanks, Eric," Ola said. "But do you want a lift when I leave?"
"I've got my bike," Eric said.
"We can throw it in the back," Ola said.
"When are you leaving?" Eric asked.
"I'll wait till Aimee and Steve are finished. See if they want a lift."
"Okay. Thanks," Eric said, gratefully, and walked into the kitchen.
"I can always knock on the door," Maeve said. "Ask them."
"No, it's okay," Ola said. "They obviously don't get enough alone time."
"Yeah, their parents aren't cool," Maeve said, rising to her feet. "Just going to punch a hole in the balloon," she said in response to Otis' quizzical expression and walked toward the stairs.
"I've never heard that one," Ola said.
"We… uh… we like making up new terminology," Otis said, sheepishly.
"Mmmm," Ola hummed, then a serious expression settled on her face. "Is Jean serious about dad?" she asked tentatively.
"I think so," Otis said.
"It's just, you said she didn't do boyfriends," Ola said.
"Your dad's different. Mum…" Otis' voice trailed away as he looked for words to explain then he remembered. "Last weekend, mum asked me which dress she should wear for the date with your dad. She had never asked me that. Ever. I think she's serious."
"I hope so," Ola murmured. "Dad… we thought maybe he'd never get past mum, but since he met your mum…"
Otis nodded. "Mum said your dad's the first person since my dad that she's ever wanted more than a second cup of coffee with."
"They're definitely doing more than drinking coffee," Ola said, wryly.
"Your mum…?" Otis asked cautiously. "Do you mind—"
"She passed. About three years ago," Ola said matter-of-factly. "She was sick. Very sick."
"I didn't know," Otis said quietly.
"I never told you," Ola said.
"I'm sorry," he said after a moment.
Ola nodded in acknowledgement then said, "I just don't want to see dad getting hurt."
"Mum would never hurt your father deliberately," Otis said.
"You don't have to mean to hurt someone in order to actually hurt them," Ola said.
She noticed Otis flinch momentarily.
"That wasn't a dig," she said. "I told you. I'm over it, but…" She sighed. "Why a goat? I mean, I can understand the housecat, but why a goat? Was it the hair? Tell me it was the hair."
"It was your confidence. Your bravery."
"What do you mean?" Ola asked, frowning.
"I was thinking about those goats that stand on really steep cliffs and just kind of… stick. What do you think of when you see one of those goats standing on the side of a cliff?"
"How the fuck did you get up there?" Ola said.
"They were confident and brave. They saw a spot on the cliff where they wanted to be and they just went there." He shrugged. "That was like you asking me if I wanted to go out with you because you wanted to go out with me. I could never have been that confident and brave."
"You did ask me to the dance."
"After you dropped really strong hints that you wanted me to ask you to the dance. I could never have been brave enough to ask you to the dance if I didn't know you wanted me to."
"That's true," Eric said, entering the room carrying his cup of hot chocolate. "Maeve had to give him a ginormous kiss before he realised she liked him."
"Eric," Otis groaned, softly.
"Of course, then he let us all know how much he really really liked Maeve," Eric continued.
"Eric," Otis said sharply.
"Well, you did," Eric muttered, defiantly, sitting down and taking a sip of his chocolate.
"That makes it sound a bit better," Ola conceded, then said, amused. "You know, I used to think your mouth running away from your brain was so cute when I first met you. Showed me."
Ola had turned the truck around ready for departure and the group were now gathered near it.
Eric and Steve lifted the former's bike and placed it gently in the back of the truck.
"I just realised," Otis said, studying the truck. "This is new."
"Yeah, the other one shagged out so he's given it to me," Ola said. "Now I just need to find someone to help me fix it on the cheap."
"I've got a mate that works on cars," Steve said. "I can see if he'll take a look at it for you."
"Thanks, Steve," Ola said, appreciatively.
"I can help him," Steve said.
On the other side of the truck, Aimee hugged Maeve. "Thanks for inviting us, pet. This was really good."
"Yeah, it was," Maeve said.
"When me and Steve learn to cook, we'll invite you over," Aimee said. "When my olds aren't there," Aimee continued, pouting.
"Can always get Steve to invite us to his place," Maeve suggested.
"Oh, that's a good idea," said Aimee enthusiastically. "His mum's not as cool as Jean, but she's way cooler than my mum."
Ola turned to the hovering Otis. "Thanks for this," she said. "I really enjoyed tonight."
"I'm glad," Otis said. "I was hoping you'd get along with… everybody."
"I'll have to do the same. Invite you all over to our place. Maybe you can meet my sister. If she's there."
"That'll be nice," Otis said.
Aimee noticed Maeve watching Otis and Ola.
"Do you want the front, Aimee?" Eric asked before she could say anything.
"Nah. Me and Steve will take the back," Aimee said.
"Left or right, babe?" Steve asked.
"You get in," Aimee said. "I'll be there in a sec."
Eric opened the door and entered the passenger side of the front cab of the truck. Steve slid into the rear cab of the truck.
"She's no threat, babe," Aimee said, gently.
Maeve turned her gaze from Ola and Otis toward Aimee.
"They've really been getting along," Maeve murmured.
"Because they're going to be friends. But she's not looking at him like he looked at you while you were with Jackson. She's not pining."
"She looked as if she was pining earlier this afternoon."
"Well, she's not now," Aimee said and hugged Maeve again. "Don't do this to yourself, babe," she quietly pleaded.
Ola noticed Aimee release Maeve and, after saying something more, walk to the truck to slide in beside Steve.
"I'll be there in a sec, guys," Ola called to the group sitting in the truck then turned back to Otis. "Do you mind if I talk to Maeve for a minute?"
"No," Otis said after a moment.
"Thanks," Ola said and started to walk toward Maeve.
Otis watched Ola as she approached his girlfriend then walked over to the truck and leant into the cab.
"Thanks for coming over," he said, mostly to Steve and Aimee.
"Thanks for inviting us," Steve said.
Maeve hoped she was keeping everything she was feeling from her face as Ola approached.
"Thanks for getting him to invite me," Ola said to Maeve.
Maeve shrugged. "Well, if Jean and your dad are going to be together, you should get to know each other better."
"I really enjoyed myself."
"I'm glad you stayed," Maeve said, hoping she sounded sincere.
"Me, too."
An awkward silence settled over them.
"Well," began Ola. "I'll see you at the threefer. If I can make it."
Maeve nodded. "Uh huh."
Ola turned and started to walk toward the truck.
Maeve bit her lip, sighed and called, "Ola."
Ola turned back to face Maeve, looking at her queryingly.
"I'm sorry," Maeve said after a moment. "For what I said at the dance."
Ola studied Maeve for a moment, then nodded slowly. "Thanks."
"I shouldn't have done it."
"No, you shouldn't have," Ola agreed in a neutral tone. "You're better than that."
Maeve snorted. "You don't know me," she murmured.
"We're reflected in the people we surround ourselves with," Ola said.
Maeve frowned and said nothing but Ola could see she understood.
With a gentle smile, Ola said, "I'll see you at the threefer, Maeve," and turned to walk to the truck.
"See you, Otis," she said as she passed him, noticing him start to walk down the slope.
Ola reached the truck, grabbed the door handle then stopped and turned to watch as Otis joined Maeve.
Otis was about to say something when Ola's voice called, "Hey, Maeve."
Otis turned to look at Ola as Maeve called back, "What?"
"Have you ever just hung out with a friend and then realised you liked them as more than a friend?"
Maeve glanced at Otis then nodded before realising Ola probably couldn't see even with the nearby lamplight. "Yes," she called back.
"Can work the other way, too. I never just hung out with Otis before today."
Ola opened the door of the truck and moved inside, shutting the door behind herself.
As Ola started the engine, Otis noticed the soft, appreciative smile on Maeve's face as she looked at the truck.
"What did she mean by that?" Otis asked, confused.
Maeve looked up at him and said, "I don't think Ola fancies you anymore, muppet."
Author's Notes: As always, I'll get the next chapter to you as soon as I can.
