Chapter 11 #2
I’m pretty fucking sure my house has never creaked and groaned as much as it does tonight, and it takes me way longer than normal to fall asleep.
I won’t be telling Charlie that bit tomorrow.
Turns out I won’t be telling him anything.
I get back a little later than planned on Sunday evening, but we’ve been texting back and forth throughout the day. The plan was for me to come over as soon as I got home, so I walk over to the annexe and knock gently on the door.
After a couple of minutes when he hasn’t come to the door, I knock again.
Still nothing, which is odd because his car is on the drive, so he has to be in. Sliding my phone from my back pocket, I call him.
No answer.
A hint of worry stirs in my gut. I’m sure he’s fine, but still, I’d like to make sure if I can.
Of course I have a spare key, but I’m not using that unless I see him passed out on the floor.
I step away from the door, about to go back to my own house, when I catch sight of something through the lounge window.
I wouldn’t normally try and stare through someone’s windows, but the curtains are open enough that I can see through into the room without having to get much closer.
I shake my head and smile when I realise what I’m looking at.
Charlie’s fast asleep on the sofa, his laptop on the coffee table next to him. He’s got a blanket covering him, and even from here he looks dead to the world. His phone must be on silent.
I know from our texts that he was up late writing. He must be knackered to be so deeply asleep. I could probably wake him up if I knocked louder, but there’s no way I’m disturbing him just so he can cook me dinner. I’m not an arsehole.
I send him a text, letting him know I came round.
Pete: I popped round after work, but there was no answer. I think you might’ve been asleep. We can try again tomorrow.
I’m so, so tempted to add an x to the end of my message but end up adding a smiley face instead. It’s oddly disappointing.
I take myself off home and rustle up some leftovers for tea. Not going to Charlie’s means I’ve got time on my hands, so I crack open his book and start reading.
The more I get into it, the more invested I am. My heart’s in my mouth as the main character enters the murder house to investigate the flash of something he saw at the window. The clever way it’s written ratchets up the suspense until I’m practically inhaling each page to find out what happens.
It’s almost midnight by the time I realise I should probably be in bed. The dark staircase is wholly unappealing, and I turn all the lights on before climbing them.
That’s it.
I’m adding fucking fairy lights tomorrow.
I wake with a jolt, pulse racing until it registers there’s someone knocking on my door.
It takes me a second to wake up enough to realise I should probably go answer it.
I’m only wearing boxer briefs, so I grab some sleep pants and a T-shirt and jog downstairs to see who’s at my door at seven-thirty on a Monday morning.
It’s the one morning this week I don’t need to be up so early. “Better be important,” I grumble as I reach for the door.
Turns out it’s Charlie.
“Hey.” I smile at him, suddenly not bothered at all at being woken up.
His gaze slides over me, taking in my clothes and my probable bed hair. “Shit. You were asleep, weren’t you? Sorry.”
“It’s fine.” I wave off his apology.
“I thought you’d be getting ready for work and I wanted to catch you before you left. To apologise for last night. I sent you a text,” he adds quickly.
“I’ve not checked my phone this morning. And I’ve got the day off today.”
Charlie looks mortified. “And I woke you up. I’m so sorry—”
“Would you like to come in?” I step aside in invitation. “I can make us breakfast, unless you’ve already eaten?”
He studies me again, frowning. “Are you sure you don’t want to go back to bed?”
“Yeah, I’m up now. Come on.”
“Yeah, okay. Thanks.” He smiles, finally, and crosses the threshold.
“Have you eaten?” I ask again.
“No. I actually came over to invite you round since I missed cooking for you last night.” He huffs. “Can’t believe I fell asleep.”
My kitchen is set up similarly to Sadie’s, in that it’s big and an open plan with an island and stools. I direct Charlie to sit on one of the stools.
He glances around, expression curious. “This is lovely.”
“Thanks.” I point to the kettle. “Coffee or tea?”
“Tea, please.”
I turn to fill the kettle and set about making our drinks.
“So what are your plans for your day off?”
Leaning against the worktop, I glance around my bare kitchen. Bare in the sense that it’s lacking any Christmas decorations. “I think I’m going to go pick out a tree and decorate my house.”
“Oh.” His eyes light up, like I’ve just told him the most exciting news ever.
“I can give you some to put in the annexe if you want?”
“Thanks, but there’s not really much point since I’m only there another few nights.”
The reminder that he’s leaving soon threatens to dampen the mood, and I don’t want that. So I float the idea that’s been in my head ever since talking to Vic and Sean. “Would you like to come with me?”
He frowns. “Where?”
“To get my tree.”
“From your Christmas tree farm?”
I snort. “It’d look pretty bad if I got it from anywhere else.”
He laughs and rolls his eyes. “Stupid question, sorry.”
The kettle boils and I turn to fix our teas. “Sugar?”
“No, thanks.”
I set his mug in front of him. “Fancy it?”
“Yes.” He tilts his head to the side. “Can I help you decorate it? You can say no, obviously,” he adds quickly. “I’ll still come with you.”
My smile is huge as he offers me what I want without me even having to ask. “Yeah, you can help.”
His eyes meet mine, and what I find there feels like a promise of something more than giving me a hand to decorate my house. Something new and exciting, and I don’t think I’ve ever wanted to go pick out a tree more than I do now.
I’m still grinning like an idiot by the time we leave. Sadie’ll take one look at me and know.
And I don’t even care.