Chapter 18 ALEX
TWENTY MINUTES LATER, I returned from the supermarket and unlocked the door with Nancy’s keys, which I’d taken from the kitchen counter. I went to the bathroom and knocked. “I’m back.”
To my surprise, she replied, “Come in.”
My hand lingered over the doorknob, debating the appropriateness of entering when she was naked…
but she had asked. I turned the handle and slowly peeked around the door.
Nancy was bathed in foam, looking relaxed in the steamy room.
Her hair was frizzy, and her cheeks had gone from pallid to radiant.
“How are you feeling?” I said, stepping in a little further and desperately trying to subdue my arousal. What the hell am I, fourteen?
She smiled up at me. “Much better for the bath, thanks.”
It was so unnerving for one’s peace of mind to rely on another.
How did people live like this day to day?
Finding her sick at the door, her skin dull and eyes drained, had sent a ripple of fear through me, but as she lay in the bath now, bare-shouldered and steam-skinned, I could see her returning.
Unbound, playful life danced in her eyes.
“I got you a Lucozade for the electrolytes, and there’s a protein smoothie for when you are finished. ”
She reached for the bottle, her eyes low-lidded, and I spied a small tattoo on her left shoulder—a dove in flight. “Thanks.”
“I’ll leave you,” I whispered, wanting to do anything but. She nodded, and I prized myself away, shutting the door and exhaling as the welcome air of the hall cooled my face.
Sometime later, Nancy emerged, wrapped in a towel and peeked into the kitchen. “I’ll just get dressed.” I nodded as I leant against the counter, but my mind was elsewhere. I’d been walking about the flat while she bathed, and the tour had darkened my mood.
The sitting-room/kitchenette was spotless, if frugally furnished. A gate leg table and four plastic chairs were stacked in a corner. In the centre sat a three-seater sofa staring at an old TV, and the shelves were lined with a gift shop’s worth of New Age crystals and small heirloom trinkets.
None of this was upsetting. Rather, I smiled as I perused the collage of family photos, each telling a story: Nancy as a little girl performing in a Christmas show dressed as an oversized star; a few years older winning the sports day three-legged race with a smiling middle-aged woman I guessed was her grandmother; a stroppy-looking teenage Nancy posing with her friends, all sporting hairstyles from the last decade; and finally, beaming next to a proud mother on graduation day.
All of this was quite charming. What was not was the condition of the flat.
Adding to the faulty boiler was a stained carpet, threadbare along the walkways.
The sofa was tatty and limp, cleverly covered by a throw but nonetheless showing.
Sun-faded vertical blinds only partially covered the window where the mechanism had seized.
The kitchenette was old and worn: one cupboard missing, another broken, and the worktops scratched and chipped.
In the sitting room, a musty smell lingered through the aroma of joss sticks.
When I investigated the source, I found a strip of dampness that ran the course of the skirting.
Following the trail, I entered Nancy’s room and found another dark patch looming over her bed.
What in hell is this place? Didn’t she say it was a local authority property? How could this condition be acceptable?
The answer was simple. It wasn’t acceptable, but it was tolerated. I ran my hands through my hair. Nancy came out of her bedroom looking serene, wearing a fresh set of pyjamas and a dressing gown. I strode over and took her by the arms.
“I need you to come with me.”
“What? Why?” She eyed the room for immediate danger.
“This place isn’t safe.”
“Yeah it is. I’ve lived here for eight years.”
“There’s damp, Nancy.” I gestured to the wall. “It’s falling apart. You’re sick! It’s not good for you to be here.” I grabbed her rucksack, leaning against the wall. “Come on, pack what you need. You’ll stay with me.”
She looked baffled. “I’m not leaving. My mum’ll be back in a bit.”
“I can put her up, too.”
“Alex, we’re fine. The damp’s been reported, and they always come and sort it out in the end.”
My lips thinned. “It’s been like this before?”
“Yeah, but we keep the windows cracked and use a mould spray on it.”
“This isn’t tolerable. Can’t you see that?”
Anger rolled over her face. “Listen, I get it. It’s your first time on World’s End, right?
Probably the first time you’ve ever been to a housing estate.
” She paused, waiting for my reply. I nodded.
“You haven’t seen people living on top of each other before.
And you’ve always lived in luxury, so to you, this seems—”
“It’s not about the space; it’s the condition. It’s uninhabitable!”
She stalked to the kitchen. “Well, I don’t know what to tell you. This is where we live!” I followed her until she came to a halt, her arms crossed protectively over her chest. “If you have such a problem with it, you’re welcome to go.”
I realised I’d humiliated her. It wasn’t just some council flat. This was a home filled with memories.
Excellent work, you utter berk!
I approached slowly and drew my arms around her waist, pressing into her back. “I’m sorry,” I whispered, and her anger began to subside as I warmed her. “I’m not trying to be an asshole. I’m just…concerned.”
She turned and placed her hands on my chest. “I can’t go with you.”
“Why not?”
She sighed. “Because I live here. Because it’s way too quick. And because I think you’re doing the whole white-knight-cum-white-saviour thing, and that doesn’t work for me.”
The corner of my mouth rose into a lopsided smile. “Oh, bella, I don’t want to be your saviour. I want to be your boyfriend. And you are sorely mistaken if you think I would ever let my girlfriend live in such conditions.”
“Oh, I’m mistaken, am I?” Her look was wry, but her eyes were soft. “And besides, we haven’t established what we are. We’ve had one date, and I asked you to take it slowly. We don’t even know each other. I mean,”—she gestured around—“Look at your reaction to my home.”
“I’m a witless ass, I know, and I promise you’ll set the pace, but I need to know you’re with me and only me.”
“You mean like exclusive?”
“I mean faithful. I don’t share.”
She hesitated, then her mouth drew into a smile. “Well, there isn’t anyone else. I’m not that sort of person.”
I ran my fingers down her bath-blushed cheek and slid my thumb over her bottom lip.
Her breath deepened, warming the pad, and then she kissed it so gently I barely felt it.
I lifted her chin and rested my forehead against hers, eye to eye, then nose to nose, tilting slightly.
My hand slipped around to her nape while hers slid up my chest to frame my face.
Our second kiss was long and passionate, her lips parting—inviting. It was like quenching a thirst after an aeon of drought. It was the sort of kiss that muted everything else. It was the kiss I should have given her in the car. Fucking perfect.
We pulled back, and I exhaled with relief. “I’ve been dying to kiss you again.”
She stroked my day-old stubble, then backed away to the couch and patted the seat. “Stop talking foolish and watch a movie with me.”
I folded my arms, remaining planted. “Our conversation isn’t over.”
“Fine, but it’s on hold while we hang out and snog for a while.” She teased her curls, watching me.
My expression turned amused. “So that’s your tactic?”
“Do you disapprove?”
Rising to her challenge, I sauntered over and sat, then pulled her onto my lap. She shrieked, kicking her legs in the air. “No, don’t, you won’t be comfortable…” Her words trailed off, and it took me a moment to realise she was talking about her body.
What the hell?
“I assure you that having you right where I want you is more than comfortable, it’s deeply satisfying.” She held my gaze in surprise. “Now, bella, what exactly are we watching while enjoying all this necking?”
Her uncertainty melted into laughter. “Necking? Oh my god, you’re so old!”
She let her head fall back, and I took full advantage, kissing up the column of her neck around to her ear. “I’d say the expression is rather literal, wouldn’t you?” My arousal shifted against her thighs as I bathed in her delicious scent. You promised to go slow; get a grip on yourself!
“You’ve proved your point,” she whispered.
I drew back, unsure of her reaction, but found her looking amused. Nevertheless, after the incident in the car, I wouldn’t try anything, even when I ached for her. The ball was firmly in Nancy’s court. “So, what film will it be?”
She considered while combing her fingers through my hair. “I think we should watch a Bond movie.”
“As in Sean Connery?”
“Eww, no, they’re so dated and gross. The Daniel Craig ones.”
“I’ve not seen them.”
She gave me a double-take. “You’re kidding?”
“Nope, but whatever you want, I’m happy with.”
“Well then, boo, you’re in for a treat.”
“Boo?” I pulled back, grinning at her endearment.
She tried to hide her pleasure. “Yeah, you’re my boo. Now, pass me the remote.”