Chapter 24
Oliver has built an impressive wall of pillows and cushions. He has used all my lounge cushions, my two spare pillows from his cupboard, and a load of new, cheap cushions he bought earlier. I sense he’s been planning this.
‘What do you think?’ he asks, proudly gesturing to the wall.
I nod. ‘Impressive.’
‘Thanks for taking a chance on me.’ He holds my gaze and I can feel an annoying fluttering inside my chest.
‘I need to go out,’ he says softly, and I feel my heart sink.
‘But,’ he says, with a slight smile, ‘I’ll be back in about an hour so we can officially start our bed-sharing.
’ There’s something different about his dark eyes.
They look brighter and bigger. ‘I promise I’ll be back and there will be no stubbing of toes, bloodied noses, lost keys, the consumption of two and half pints or sad walks in torrential rain. ’
I watch him leave and go sit on my chair with Lenny. ‘I believe him,’ I whisper to Lenny. ‘I don’t know why, but I sense he wants to change.’ I pick up Margo Lane’s book and dive into where I left off.
True to his word, he returns after an hour. ‘Nelly,’ he calls out from the hallway after closing the flat door. ‘It’s nearly time to get our pyjamas on.’
We sit in the living room opposite each other.
He’s reading a romance book written by one of his author friends.
Tonight, he’s wearing a fitted pink shirt and black jeans.
His dark hair has been styled and is sporting some beautiful waves.
I am trying to focus on Margo’s words about how it feels to be embraced by water, but my annoying mind keeps imagining what it must feel like to be in Oliver’s arms.
I have just been in the bathroom and put on my pink pyjamas which are covered with tiny grey cats. He’s changed in the living room and is wearing a pair of blue pyjamas. As I enter the bedroom feeling anxious, he hands me the rolling pin from the kitchen drawer. ‘Take this.’
‘What?’ I gasp.
‘I know you’re worried about sharing a bed with me, and I want you to feel safe, so take this, stick it under your pillow and feel secure in the knowledge you are armed.’
‘Really?’ I stare at the wooden rolling pin.
‘I wouldn’t dare to enter your side of the bed, but I don’t want you to feel in any danger. Do it,’ he beams.
His wall separates the bed into two parts. If it doesn’t topple over us in the night and we don’t touch, I will be fine.
We pull back the covers of our respective sides of the bed and climb in.
Even though pillows and cushions separate us, I can hear him breathing. My nostrils have detected his Whispering Cedar aftershave.
Anxiety courses through my body. What the hell have I agreed to?
Despite being tired when I got home, I am wide awake now. The prospect of sharing a bed with Oliver has put my body on high alert.
I am lying on my side and facing away from the pillow wall.
‘Nelly? If you’re nervous about this new arrangement, I don’t blame you. Are you impressed by my wall-building skills?’ He sounds like an excited boy scout.
‘It’s the best I’ve ever seen, Oliver. You have a hidden talent.’
He’s rearranging his pillows. ‘I respect you, Nelly, so please don’t worry. This is why I gave you the rolling pin.’
‘I’m not worrying,’ I lie, slipping my hand under the pillow and touching the wooden rolling pin. He better not try anything because I will use the rolling pin.
‘Can you believe we’re sharing a bed?’
‘I blame Gary for this,’ I groan.
‘Gary is an interesting character,’ he says. ‘My thriller author friend would love to meet him.’
‘Why?’
‘Claire loves meeting creepy people. Gary would give her so much book fodder.’
We both giggle, and I can feel myself start to relax.
‘We hardly know each other,’ he says, which makes me emit a nervous laugh.
‘Yes, and now we’re sharing a bed,’ I say with a deadpan tone.
We go silent, and I listen to the creaking pipes and footsteps on the floor below.
‘Nelly,’ he says.
‘Yes, Oliver.’
‘I know this is nosey, but I saw the book you were reading earlier. Can I ask what it’s about? It has an image of seawater on the front.’
‘It’s about the author, Margo Lane, who turned to swimming to process her grief. The water healed her. Can you swim, Oliver?’
‘Very well, Nelly. Can you?’
I smile at his confident response. ‘What’s your best stroke?’
He rearranges his pillows. ‘Front crawl. You?’
‘I excelled at backstroke and won numerous competitions when I was eight. Although I preferred front crawl.’
‘You won competitions?’ he exclaims. ‘When was the last time you went swimming?’
‘Years ago. I stopped when…’ I take a shaky breath. ‘I was nine.’
He allows my emotions to settle before speaking. ‘Maybe this book is a sign that you should go swimming again.’
We both go silent. I can feel him turning over, and I think he’s facing the pillow wall. ‘I have been meaning to ask, how is your aunt doing?’
‘She’s okay.’ I think back to earlier when she modelled her shaved head.
‘That must be hard for you both.’
I gulp back a wave of emotion. ‘It is hard, but we’re doing okay.’
‘That’s good.’
‘She means a lot to me.’
‘Talk to me about her,’ he says, his voice soft and inviting. I hesitate. It feels unnatural to talk about my life. This is new territory. I do my best to avoid human interaction and lock myself away. But his gentle tone is coaxing me to start.
I take a moment. I have learnt that if I don’t do this, my emotions get the better of me. ‘My parents died in a car crash when I was nine. My aunt became my legal guardian.’
‘I’m sorry, Nelly,’ he says quietly.
We don’t say anything else to each other. I close my eyes and when I open them again, it’s morning and his half of the bed is empty.
He’s not in the flat, so I assume he’s gone out for the day.
After I shower and get dressed, I head to make my morning coffee, and I hear the front door close. ‘Nelly, we ran out of ground coffee, so I’ve been to the café and bought us a takeaway coffee each.’
He stands at the doorway to the kitchen, a packet of ground coffee tucked under his arm and a cardboard tray in hand, carrying two coffee cups. His dark hair looks messy and wild. Despite all this, his captivating eyes and boyish smile make my heart beat faster.
‘You didn’t have to do that.’
He grins. ‘It’s a celebration. We survived our first bed share together.’
‘Yes, we did.’
‘You didn’t have to use that rolling pin on me either.’
He places my cup on the table and raises his cup in a toast-like manner. ‘Here’s to us and many more nights of you and I bed-sharing.’
I smile and take a sip.
‘It feels good to wake up at a reasonable hour and not be plagued with worries about the night before,’ he says.
‘Do you worry a lot?’
He scratches his stubble-coated jaw. ‘I have been worrying about what you think of me and all my chaos.’
‘I feel like things might be different now.’
Lenny comes into the kitchen and meows at Oliver. Reaching down, he scoops up my cat, who is purring loudly. I watch Lenny brush his head against Oliver’s chin. ‘Life in this flat is going to be different – isn’t it, little fella?’
The sight of my little cat giving him a lot of feline love makes my heart melt for the first time.
Oliver lifts his gaze to me. ‘Did I mention that I’m coming to the bookshop today?’
‘What?’
He nods. ‘Miranda’s been begging me to visit Once Upon a Spine.’
Inwardly, I groan. I will have to spend my time at work with Miranda, who will be in a state of emotional hysteria. With Oliver in the bookshop, she’ll be chaotic, hormonal, and loud.
‘Wow – you look over the moon at hearing I’m coming to the bookshop,’ he says, casting me a bewildered look.
‘It’s not you, it’s Miranda.’
He smiles before taking a sip of his coffee. ‘I’m sure she’ll be okay.’
‘You don’t know what it’s like to work with Miranda.’