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“Just leave me alone.”
She waits a moment, then gets up and disappears.
Half relieved, half disappointed, I cover my face with my arm again. I should move onto the deck, at least, out of the sun as it comes up, but I can’t bring myself to move. I’m such a fucking idiot. Alcohol often brings on a migraine—I should have known. Jesus, I feel rough. I just want to die. Drift into oblivion. With Maddie.
Fresh tears prick my eyes, and I give a long sigh.
I assume that Aroha has returned to her room with Leia, but after a few minutes I hear footsteps on the deck, and then feel her at my side as she bends down.
“James?”
“What?”
“Come with me.”
“Fuck off.”
“Yeah, yeah. Come on. I’ve run the bath. Closed the blinds. You need to warm up, have something to eat, then get some proper sleep.”
I don’t reply. Actually a bath sounds great, but I can’t force myself to move. It’s easier just to lie here and stew in self-pity.
But she says, “Come on, up,” rises, takes my hand, and pulls. Grumbling, I let her tug me to a sitting position, then slowly get to my feet.
“Oh God…” I bend forward, hands on my knees. My head pounds, and the garden spins around me. I think I’m still drunk.
“Come on,” she says again, quietly, a hand on my back. “This way.” She guides me up the steps and into the house.
I don’t know if I’ll be able to cope with a screaming baby. But the house is quiet, dark, and cool. “Where’s Leia?”
“She’s fine—I’ve fed her and she’s happy in her car seat for now. She’s in the bathroom.” She pats the receiver on her hip. She takes my hand again and leads me through the house to my bedroom, then through it to the bathroom. It’s my favorite room in the house—the large sunken bath faces the garden, and I often have a soak in the evening sunlight after a workout. Today, though, she’s lowered the blinds, shutting out the light. Leia sits in her seat to one side, her Pooh Bear tucked beside her, sucking on a dummy. She looks at me, and I give her a weak smile.
The bath is deep and filled with bubbles. “It smells nice,” I mumble.
“It’s lavender—it’s good for headaches. I learned a bit about aromatherapy at the salon. Have you had any painkillers?”
“No.”
She opens the bathroom cabinet. “Okay, what do you normally take? Triptans?”
“Mm.”
“Paracetamol or Nurofen?”
“Paracetamol.”
“How bad is it? Do you want a couple of these codeine as well?”
“Please.”
“Do you feel sick? Do you want one of these anti-nausea pills too?”
I blow out a long breath. “No, I should be okay.”
She tips the others into my hand, then passes me a glass of orange juice. “Drink it all,” she says.
I swallow the pills with the juice. It relieves the sour taste in my mouth, but it makes me realize how cold the rest of me is, and I start shivering.
“In the bath,” she says. “Come on.”
