Page 9 of Built to Last
Aria wants a set with four moveable pieces that will make the kids in the audience feel like they’ve been transported into a magical forest. The show is about safety when walking home—look before crossing the road, don’t wander off with strangers, that kind of stuff. She doesn’t want it to feel too real and potentially scare the younger children, hence the fairytale theme.
Tapping on the thumbnail displaying a soft and whimsical design, I open one of the more promising options. My initial sketch leaves a lot to be desired but coupled with the roughly indicated colour palate of soft lilacs, periwinkle blues, sagegreens, and dusky pinks, it hints at the magical forest it could become. Deciding the pastel design holds potential, I set to work neatening up my original sketch of intricately swirling branches, then layering on more and more detail. Once the black and white outline of flowering trees, chair-sized toadstools, and a flowing river is fleshed out I begin adding a basic indication of colour.
Lost in my work, the hours fly by until my stomach grumbles, pulling my focus. Looking up from my screen I realise the room has darkened around me, the sky outside now a watercolour of burnt orange, pink, and sienna. I’ve missed lunch altogether and it’s close to dinner time. Flipping on my bedside lamp I review my efforts with a critical eye. I don’t hate it. I actually kind of… like it? A spark of pride shines in my chest like a distant star as I look over the whimsical fairytale forest glowing up at me. It’s something I would have loved as a little girl.
The practical side of my brain makes an appearance and I worry the intricate design will be too complicated for the deadline we’re working to. I still want to show it to Phillip but I should probably whip up a simplified version as well. Just in case. One with a cleaner outline and a more realistic forest colouring of greens and browns can’t hurt.
My stomach growls again and I decide the second design can wait until tomorrow. For now, it’s been a good day and I plan on rewarding myself with a delicious dinner of leftover lasagne from the freezer. No cookingandpasta: the ultimate celebratory meal. Packing up for the day I catch myself smiling. Maybe Icando this.
Chapter Five
Rose
I cannotdo this.The deadline to email my designs to Phillip has come around all too quickly and my foolish confidence from earlier in the week is nowhere to be found.What if he hates them?
“Morning, you want your usual?” Violet’s question enforces a momentary pause to my spiralling as I step up to the counter at Snug. I’ve come to my happy place, hoping it will help me gather enough courage to email Phillip. As always, Violet looks fantastic. Today’s ensemble consists of dark jeans, a sapphire-blue wrap top with burgundy flowers, all tied together with a lipstick shade the perfect colour-match to the petals on her top.
“Please.” I return her smile, grateful for the way her warm presence smooths away the jagged edges of my nerves. I also dressed up a little today. Not that I’m expecting to run into anyone I know, except for Violet, but I always find making an effort with my clothes helps me feel more confident and today I need all the help I can get in that department. It’s another chilly day, so I opted for my favourite sage green and baby pink high waisted tartan trousers paired with my pink boots and a cropped cream roll neck jumper. I may be a nervous wreck on the inside, but at least I look good.
Coffee order placed, I meander around the tables, the tightness in my chest easing a little when I relax into my usual amethyst-purple armchair. Anxiety over showing Phillip my designs had me awake way too early this morning. Seeing as I was already up, I thought I’d just email him first thing, but when the time came I found myself frozen, finger hovering above the ‘send’ button but unable to bring myself to complete that final step. I knew I was being ridiculous but couldn’t help it. Unable to stand stewing over it at home any longer, I decided to come to Snug.
The atmosphere here always brings me comfort and what better reward for sending off my designs than one of Violet’s delicious vanilla lattes? Of course, now my order’s placed, that means I actually have tosendthe email. After a couple of slow breaths to calm my racing heart, I open my pink rucksack and pull out my tablet. I’m unable to resist looking over the email one last time. A few more minutes obsessing over the two designs I’ve chosen and how I’ve pitched them willobviouslymake me feel better.
In my peripheral I notice Violet approaching with my latte. It’s now or never. If my reward arrives and I’ve not sent the email yet I’ll have to hype myself up all over again. Hey, I don’t make the rules. My hands shake, probably a sign I don’t need any more caffeine this morning but I’ll be damned if I’m going to deprive myself of heaven in a mug after this ordeal.
I press send. In my mind a choir of angels burst into song. In reality, nothing around me changes except for Violet placing my coffee on the low table before me (the woman has impeccable timing). But on the inside, I do feel different. Braver. It’s only a small step forward, I will absolutely be incessantly refreshing my inbox until I hear back from Phillip, but it’s a step forward all the same. I take a sip of coffee then smile.
Bel:
Rosebud! Are we still on for tonight?
The corners of my lips twitch upwards at the familiar nickname from my uni days lighting up my phone screen. Bel, (short for Belmont but God help anyone other than his mum and dad who tries to use his full name), has been visiting his family for his parents’ wedding anniversary celebration. He gets back this afternoon, and Aria and I are meeting up with him at his flat tonight to catch up. I couldn’t be more grateful for the timing—hanging out with my closest friends is just what I need to take my mind off waiting for Phillip’s reaction to my designs.
Me:
Absolutely! See you at 7. *smiley face emoji*
“Rosie, is that you?”
Frozen halfway through putting my now-empty mug back on the table, dread fills me. Just when I thought the only thing capable of ruining my good mood was Phillip hating my designsthishappens. I’d know that shrill voice anywhere, plus, she’s the only person who insists on calling me Rosie even though I hate it.
“Mrs Attwater, what a surprise.” I force myself to smile at her for the sake of politeness but if the look she gives me is any indication, I’ve fallen short. Much like I failed to meet her impossible standards when I was dating her son.
Marie (not that I was ever invited to call her that) glides towards me, looking out of place in her smart pastel-blue dress and heels.
“It’s lovely to see you, dear.”Is it though?
“It’s nice to see you too,” I reply, even though I’d hoped to never run into her again. Given that we move in completely different circles, I hadn’t thought that was a big ask.
“You look…” She gives me a once-over. Suddenly the love I had for my outfit moments ago is replaced by feeling like a child playing dress-up in an adult’s clothes. I hate that she still has this effect on me. Her opinion shouldn’t matter and yet, it does. Her disapproval is a reminder of all the times Malcolm never stood up for me or, even worse, when he belittled me all on his own. “… well,” she finishes her assessment of me after a self-esteem destroying pause.
“What brings you to Snug?” A valid question since this islightyearsfrom her usual scene.
“I was at a fundraising meeting and mentioned needing to pick up a few sweet treats afterwards. One of the ladies recommended this place. It’s… charming.”
“The coffee’s great here.”
“Hmm.” Her non-committal sound in response to my praise makes it clear she has very little faith in my opinion. “The cakes do look delightful. I’ll take a selection over to Malcolm’s. We’re having brunch with his new girlfriend, she’s a dental hygienist. Are you seeing anyone, Rosie?”
