Composite Creatures by Caroline Hardaker (novel books to read .txt) 📕

over, they’re left with a reality they’re not prepared for. It’s sad really, but there you go.”

I reached across and grasped Art’s hand, it seemed the right thing to do. He grinned at me with what felt like honest love. Fia sat back in her seat.

“You’re both making it too easy, I feel like my work is almost done.”

In the corner, Nathan scribbled notes into his book. Fia tucked an escaped lock of hair behind her ear. “You’re both about to go on a journey together that will make you grow in so many ways. And we’re glad to be a part of it. Your next visit – we’ll bring champagne, not coffee.” She took a grandiose slurp from her mug. “In fact, this deserves something better. How about more tea? Nathan, do you mind?”

Nathan nodded and left the room. Fia folded her hands across her belly. “And how are your vocations going?”

Art went first. “Not too badly. I was just part of a sell-out festival, and I have another book coming out at the start of next year. I’m now fully into the big one.”

“Are you pushing yourself too hard?”

“No, I’m careful not to.”

“Good. I’m sure Norah’s doing all she can to support you too,” Fia glanced at me from the corner of her eye. “After all, it might be your big success that funds the pair of you in the future. Like a good old-fashioned married couple.”

“I hope so,” said Art, squeezing my hand.

“And you, Norah? How’s your work going? Stokers, isn’t it?”

I said the words, I smiled the smiles, all the while knowing that Fia’s ear was trained for lack of substance.

“How long have you been in that position now?”

I pretended to count. “Ten years or so, ish.”

“Don’t you ever want to move up the ladder? Be influential to the company as a whole?”

“It’s not the sort of place with a lot of progression.”

Fia tipped her head and pouted irritatingly at me. “But isn’t that frustrating?”

I tipped my head too, and imitated her singsong tone. “Not at all, Fia. I make a difference in little ways. I like that.”

“But you’ll be so experienced at that now. Don’t you want to be held up for loyalty?”

I imagined myself hoisted on the shoulders of giants, all for the glory of processing insurance claims.

“I think it’s unlikely.”

Fia didn’t reply, and Art’s shuffling caught my eye. He was looking at his knees, flicking at a spot on his trousers. When the room went silent he looked up at me like I was a stranger. Was what I was saying so odd? Why was he so surprised that this was the language I was fluent in?

There was still a need to present ourselves as a united front so I laughed, shrugging my shoulders as if throwing off a heavy cloak. “But I’m still finding myself, aren’t I? My niche.”

The door opened and Nathan came in carrying a tray, and handed Art and I a blue mug of steaming tea each. It smelled even sweeter than my first cup, like hot cream and something else, cloves, maybe? I wrapped my hands around the mug and felt my body relax.

Nathan sat back in the corner and smiled at Fia, who was still staring at me with her face puckered to a pout. She obviously wasn’t convinced by what I’d just said, but it was easier for me to concentrate on the heat of the mug, the steam on my face, than play games with her. Finally she turned back to her laptop to tap away on the keys. “We might need to give you extra support with this. You’re in your prime and we need you to do well. For the programme. You’re both such perfect advocates. Young. Approachable. Attractive. Accessible. But you must make an effort to show a holistic approach to wellbeing, here. Don’t mix with anyone that’ll drag you down, Norah. Have you seen your friends recently?”

I told her I hadn’t, and she seemed pleased enough with that. Art looked at me quizically and I suddenly remembered my lie from when he was at the festival. That I’d seen Eleanor. I gave him a quick smile and then focussed all my attention back on to Fia. Don’t say anything Art, please.

Fia pointed at my tea and I gladly took another sip. She continued to type through the remainder of our session, making notes after every answer we gave. She asked Nathan to measure our blood pressure and take a small sample of blood from each of us as a routine health check. Nathan was gentle, moving my arm into position as if I was a china doll that might shatter if he moved me the wrong way. I watched him closely as he pressed his thumb pads in the crook of my arm to identify the vein and then slipped in the needle. He smelt woody, like drying bark, but also a little herbal, like eucalyptus or rosemary.

Fia booked us in for another joint appointment in six months’ time, and pressed upon us another folder of updated guidelines for self-care management. By the next appointment the snow would be back and we’d be ringing in another New Year’s Day. But rather than see that as something to look forward to, I felt nothing. The appointment had knocked me hollow, and I dashed out of those sterile grey halls as quickly as I could without looking like I was running. Art skipped along beside me, seemingly unaware that the cold that had descended on me hadn’t yet thawed.

If anything, I felt a bit stupid, and as always a hundred better retorts than the ones I’d actually given Fia and Nathan revealed themselves to have been in my head all the time – but inaccessible. Surprise. Traitorous brain. No chance to say them now.

So what if I’d been in the same job for a while? Is it a crime to continue doing something after you’ve mastered it? No one would say that