Chapter 15 #4
Each time I sober, I take another look at his hat and boots and start again. I laugh so long that his own lips twitch and he starts to laugh too.
When I finally calm, I reach out and pull him down to sit next to me. “I don’t want you ever to change. Please promise me that,” I say fervently as I wipe the tears away.
I’m excessively gratified to see the confusion and a trace of fascination in his eyes. It doesn’t last long, and I sigh when it vanishes and leaves only naughtiness.
He sniffs. “Well, that just means I’m going to have to change. Well done, Reuben. Who knows what my next metamorphosis will be?”
“I can’t wait to find out.” The honesty is stark in my voice.
Xavier
The house is completely silent apart from the wind howling outside. It sounds mournful, like it’s begging to come inside and get warm.
I turn over in bed and lie for a minute before rolling over again. I’m tired. In fact, I’m utterly weary. I want to sleep but my body won’t let me. My legs feel restless, and my skin hurts. My brain is also going a mile a minute.
A glance at my phone tells me it’s two in the morning. I’d usually be drunk or high or shagging by now. Or all three. And as apparently all three options are being denied to me, I can’t sleep.
I glare venomously at the wall. On the other side of it, Reuben is no doubt sleeping the sleep of the righteous. I lift my middle finger and raise it in the direction of where his bed probably is. Then I fall back against the pillows, staring at the ceiling.
I consider getting up, going into his room, and sliding into his bed.
He’d fuck me, and I’d be able to finally sleep.
Sex always wipes me out. I wouldn’t have hesitated to join him before the Year of Silence, as I began calling it, but now I don’t know whether he’d welcome me.
The thought makes my belly hurt. Revenge fucking gets a bit pathetic when the person you’re extracting revenge from doesn’t care enough to stick around.
I huff and roll onto my side, kicking viciously at the covers.
I scratch at my leg, but it doesn’t relieve the itch.
I’m not stupid. I’m coming down from the immense amount of time I’ve spent high or drunk.
I didn’t think the lifestyle would impact me.
I told myself I didn’t need the drugs, and I don’t, but apparently my circulation system hasn’t got the memo yet.
The wind moans, and I’ve abruptly had enough. I reach out and snap on the lamp. It floods the room with a golden glow as I jackknife out of bed and stomp to the wardrobe, making as much noise as possible. I’m halfway hoping it wakes Reuben up. Then he can share my misery.
However, there’s no sound of movement from his room, so I open the wardrobe doors and grab a pair of jeans and a hoodie off the hangers.
I’ve never seen either item of clothing before, so they must be part of Dean’s purchases.
Some of Reuben’s clothes hang in the wardrobe, and I reach up and touch the sleeve of an olive-coloured jumper.
It’s soft on my fingers, and a ghostly waft of Reuben’s sandalwood cologne gusts out of it.
Before I know I’m doing it, I toss the hoodie on the bed and instead slide into the jumper.
It hangs on me, and I have to roll up the sleeves a couple of times, but it feels ridiculously like a hug in wool form.
Dismissing the silly thought, I let myself out of the room. For a few seconds, I freeze on the landing, but there’s no sound of him waking up. I tiptoe down the stairs and into the kitchen.
“Where would you keep them, Reuben Langley?” I whisper. For as long as I’ve known him, he’s kept a pack of cigarettes. He doesn’t smoke very often, having largely packed up when he was thirty, but he likes the option of having them at hand if he changes his mind.
My eye falls on the drawers of an old pine sideboard.
“There,” I say. I open it, rifling through the contents and exclaim in triumph when I find a pack of Marlboro Lights at the bottom of the drawer under a pile of tea towels.
Grabbing the lighter on the counter near the candles and a throw from the back of the chair, I let myself out of the back door and start down the path towards the bottom of the garden.
The wind grabs me as soon as I step out. It’s fiercer than I’d thought, blowing in off the sea with an icy cold edge like it’s bringing the winter. I shiver and huddle into Reuben’s jumper, pulling the blanket around my shoulders. My feet are already freezing, but I’m not going back for shoes.
My phone rings suddenly, and I fumble for it, nearly dropping it in the process.
“Yes?” I hiss, looking up frantically at Reubens’ bedroom window, but it remains dark.
There’s a startled silence, and then I hear the familiar sardonic voice of Mal. “Mother, are we running from the bailiffs again?”
I blink. “Pardon?”
“Oh, it’s you, Xavier. I thought with the way you answered the phone that you must be in hiding again.”
“Again? I was never in hiding in the first place.”
“Weren’t you? Silly me. I have the brain size of a pea.”
I stare at my phone when he makes no effort to carry on the conversation. “Erm, did you ring me for anything, Mal?”
“Just wanted to check you were alive. And you are.”
“If you’d asked me that a few days ago, I might have had a different answer.”
“Fucking Robbie.”
“Did Karl’s boyfriend get hold of him?”
“He certainly did.” He snorts. “He took such a firm hold of him that Robbie couldn’t escape the fist in his face.”
“Ouch. Reuben had already done enough damage with that.”
“Where is your angry kidnapper anyway?”
“Sleeping. And he’s not that angry.”
“Really?”
“No. He just had some very forceful questions about what was right and what was wrong, and Robbie’s face was the answer.”
He laughs, and my mouth ticks up at the merry sound. When he speaks next, his voice is extraordinarily gentle. “I’m very glad you’re still here, Xavier.”
I swallow hard. “Thank you. Me too,” I say hoarsely.
“I don’t have many friends, which some people might put down to my personality.”
“You don’t say.”
“But you are one of them, and I like my friends happy and healthy. Do you want me to come and get you?”
The idea that both Mal and Pip are prepared to ride to my rescue is very touching. “Just like that?” I say hoarsely.
“Of course. If you’re not happy, you can come and stay with us on the farm. The cows won’t judge your hair.”
“Fuck off,” I say, starting to laugh.
“You looked a trifle feral in that hospital bed.”
“Cut me some slack. It’s hard to stay on trend when you’re unconscious.”
“So? Do you want me to come and get you?”
“Aren’t you going to tell me what’s good for me and make me stay here?”
“Things that are good for you always seem to be excessively boring.”
I consider his offer. I feel safe here with Reuben, and the thought of getting back on that ferry isn’t appealing in the slightest. “I think I might stay here for a bit,” I finally say.
“Your choice. It’s actually a bit of a relief that you don’t need me. The sea air would have played havoc with my complexion.”
“We can’t have that.”
“Okay. You know my number. Make sure you use it.”
I cock my head. “Not going to mention my surprise husband?”
He snorts. “Darling, I’ve only got so much time for that particular conversation. You can come and stay at the farm, and I’ll get it out of you then.”
“Did you mean that to sound so threatening?”
“Yes.”
He rings off, and I slide my phone into my pocket. I’d always thought that I was wandering through life largely alone and wouldn’t be missed if I disappeared. If the overdose has done nothing else, it’s highlighted that I have a few more friends than I originally thought.
There are a table and chairs at the bottom of the garden on a stone-flagged terrace that has an unimpeded view of the Sound.
I make my way over. The water is a pale, empty mass tonight.
I can hear the pine trees rustling, and the sky is a mess of skudding clouds that occasionally show glimpses of a full moon.
It takes me several goes, and I end up contorting myself into a pretzel position, but eventually I manage to light the cigarette. I take a long draw of it, feeling the crackle and burn of the smoke. I exhale, sending a plume of smoke into the air and then cough.
“Shit,” I gasp and pound my chest. I wheeze, my throat burning. “Motherfucking Marlboros,” I mutter. “Buy a proper brand.” I take another drag, and the cough is louder this time.
“Gosh, that sounds appetising. I don’t know how I’ve restrained from having a cigarette for so long.”
The voice comes from behind me, and I think I actually shriek as I spin around.
Reuben stands on the path behind me. He’s wearing unfastened jeans that hang low on his hips and nothing else, and he’s watching me quizzically.
“What the fuck?” I croak, trying to ignore the trail of dark hair running from his belly button and disappearing into the opening of his jeans. Does he still sleep naked? I realise I’ve stopped talking, and he looks amused. “What are you doing sneaking up on me, you bloody peeper?”
He cocks his eyebrow. “Am I creeping or just wandering around my own garden?”
“It’s two in the morning.”
“And you’re still up.”
“I can’t sleep.” I take another drag of my cigarette. “I suppose you want to take this off me, too, Destroyer of All Fun.”
“What a sweet little nickname.” He steps closer and takes the cigarette from me, raising it to his lips and taking a drag. It’s far sexier than it should be to watch his full lips around the cigarette.
He exhales in a much cooler fashion than I’d managed, and I eye him. “I thought you didn’t smoke anymore.”
“The odd one.” He winks at me. “Usually after I’ve seen you on one of your periodic raids of my hotel rooms.”
“Makes me sound like a Viking.” I take the cigarette back and puff away on it. “I’d have made a cracking Viking.”
“With that hair and your bloodthirsty temperament, you’d have been a shoo-in.”
“I would. I’d have been exceptional at the pillaging part too.”
“You appear to have started with my wardrobe.”
I huddle into the sweater. “You’re not getting it back.”
“Perish the thought.”
He shivers, and reluctant concern stirs. “You’re going to catch a cold,” I mumble and unpeel myself from my blanket and hand it to him.
“I’m fine,” he says, trying to give it back. I step away, and he relents, tucking the blanket around his shoulders. He looks down and freezes. “Xavier, you haven’t got any shoes on,” he scolds.
“I’m fine. Chill out.”
“Something you’ll be doing super quickly if you don’t get some fucking shoes on. You’ve been ill.”
I scoff. “I haven’t had the flu. I had an overdose brought on by Robbie Shit for Brains.”
His face clouds with anger. “I wish I could have another go at him. I’d rearrange a lot more than his fucking face.”
“Now who’s a Viking?”
“Aren’t you going to lecture me about violence?”
“Have you met me?” I ask incredulously.
He chuckles, and I stub out the cigarette into an ashtray on the table. Then I step back. “Why are you out here anyway?”
“Well, Xavier, I heard an elephant stomping around in my bedroom and thought I’d better investigate.” He watches me, his eyes busy with concern. I shouldn’t like that as much as I do. “Why are you really up?” he asks softly.
I shrug awkwardly. “I couldn’t sleep.”
“That’s not surprising. The hospital said it might take a few days to get the drug out of your system.”
I lick my lips. “I think you and I both know I might need longer than that. That might have been the first time someone gave me drugs without my say-so, but it’s definitely not the first time I’ve taken them.
Maybe you shouldn’t have hit Robbie.” My words tumble out with all the thoughts that were keeping me awake.
“I mean, I’ve taken them with him before and—”
“Xavier Conway, stop talking.”
I stare at him. “Full name. Am I in trouble?”
He steps close, and places his hands on my shoulders, and gives me a gentle shake the way a dog would scruff a puppy.
The warmth of his hands sinks through the jumper and heats my skin.
“It was entirely his fault,” he says steadily.
“Whatever you’ve done or haven’t done with or without him.
Did you ask for drugs at any point during that evening?
” He raises his eyebrow, and I realise I’m supposed to be answering.
“No,” I say hoarsely.
“Well, then. Put that out of your mind.”
I shake my head. “Great. It’s freed up some space, but the rest of my worries are filling the emptiness.”
He kneads my shoulders, and when I shiver, he wraps the blanket around us both, pulling it over our heads and encasing us in a warm cave. “What is it?” he says in a gentle voice that makes me want to cry.
I think it’s only the darkness and wool covering that allows me to say what I do. “I think I’m lost,” I whisper.
He looks at me for a long moment. I don’t know if I was expecting judgement, but he doesn’t give it.
Instead, he folds me into his arms, a tentativeness to the gesture that tells me he expects me to shove him away.
I tense, ready to do just that, but then someone cuts my strings, and I fold into his embrace, resting my head against his neck, inhaling his warm scent and feeling his arms band tight around me.
The blanket slips, and the wind immediately catches my hair, blowing it around him.
It’s the first time in a year that I’ve been so close to him, and I both hate it and love it.
Why is it only he who can make me feel safe?
For a while, we just stand there as he rocks me gently back and forth. “Then let’s be lost together,” he finally says hoarsely. “Until you’re ready to be found.”
I snort, my eyes hot with tears. “Aren’t you supposed to be giving me a motivational speech?”
He presses a kiss to my temple. “That would be a complete waste of my time. I’d rather thrash you at Uno.”
My competitive instinct is immediately roused. “I don’t think so. I’m actually very good at that.”
“You think you’re good at it. Sadly, I have to tell you that I’m probably better.”
I know very well that he’s distracting me, but it’s still working. “I don’t think so. Come on.” I pull away and start down the path.
“Where are you going?” His voice dances with laughter as it follows me.
“To prepare the battlefield for your eventual pitiful defeat.”
“Are we still talking about cards?”
I wave a dismissive hand back at him. “I’ll let you know at the end of the night.”