Unsuitable

“The universe, that’s heavy.”

“You should be aiming higher. You know I think that.”

“So this is you, not so much the universe.”

She smiled. “You’re nearly thirty. Time to stop mucking around. Time to stop dreaming.”

He frowned and dropped his hands. She could add to that. Time to stop your family running you around. Time to move in with me and get serious. Time to show some ambition. Time to grow up.

He’d heard variations of those themes from her over the last six months in particular. And she was probably right. In comparison, he was a loser. Sky owned her flat, it had a hefty mortgage, but she managed it alone. She drove a new Peugeot. She had a great job and pulled the kind of salary he could only dream about. She was fun to be with, stop a room sexy and scary smart. Plus she loved him.

He was proud of her. He had long-term designs on her that involved half a wardrobe, a cupboard in her kitchen and a fight over who got the car space.

Didn’t stop him resenting her.

“This is my dream, remember.”

She sighed. “Baby, it’s not enough for you. You can do better.”

“Teaching in a classroom. Roofing for the Pollidores. I could earn more, but it’s not what I want.”

“It’s not about the money. I earn enough for both of us. It’s about you building a career you can be happy in. Are you going to want to be a nanny when you turn thirty, when you turn forty? When you’re a dad yourself?”

He could barely think about what he’d be doing in a month, let alone a decade. “Jesus, Sky. Do we have to do this now?”

She pouted and he usually liked to kiss the sulk off her plump lips. “Would you rather we talk about how I don’t like the idea of you sleeping in that woman’s house.”

“I’d be sleeping there when she wasn’t.”

“I get that. I still don’t like it.”

He tapped her nose with the tip of his finger and she blinked. “Are you jealous of a woman who’s ten years older than me?”

“No. I trust you.”

“Then why raise it?”

She pouted. “You won’t move in.”

“You are jealous.”

“No, I’m lonely.” Sky twisted to get out of his arms.

He sighed. He wasn’t going to get to have Mia and Audrey in his life. He had a standing offer of his old room at Polly’s, but that’d put an end to Polly’s playroom with its enormous TV and multiple games consoles, and he did love Sky, so it wasn’t that complicated, but there was no way he was leaving his restored Monaro on the street.

“About your parking spot.”

She stilled, then threw her arms around his neck and squealed in his ear. Easy as that, he had a new bedroom and back home the territory war was about to begin.

8: Failure to Win

Chris had her locked and loaded. He gave Audrey his patented what’s going on look, a combo of lowered chin, right head tilt and raised eyebrows. There was no way she was leaving the team meeting without an explanation, or the not so casual disinterest of her colleagues who knew the look and were grateful not to be its recipient.

“Incoming,” muttered Les, collecting her job folders to leave.

Audrey turned her face towards Les and hissed, “Don’t go. I’ve no idea what he wants and he won’t get stuck into me in front of you.”

Les started shuffling through a folder, trying to legitimise hanging around. “The things I do for you,” she said, two seconds before Chris aimed and fired.