‘Don’t worry about her,’ Josie told him, squeezing Kate to her side. ‘If anyone looks crooked at her I’ll punch their lights out.’
‘I believe you.’ Will liked her more by the minute.
‘No better woman!’ Josie assured him.
As Will got up to go, the singer from the band was standing at his elbow rather diffidently, waiting to be noticed – or, perhaps, discovered.
‘Mr Sargent,’ he said deferentially, ‘we’d appreciate any advice you could give us.’
‘I’d put an ice pack on that, if I were you,’ Will said mischievously, gesturing to the bump on his forehead from where he had clashed with the guitarist.
‘Oh, yeah, thanks.’ The boy looked down at his shoes. He seemed about to run, but he screwed up his courage and met Will’s eye. ‘Um, I meant about the music,’ he said shyly.
Will was torn between saying something meaningless and telling him what he really thought. ‘Ditch the drummer,’ he said and turned to go.
‘He’s shite, isn’t he?’ the boy nodded comprehendingly.
‘No more shite than the rest of you,’ Will told him brutally, ‘but he doesn’t give a bollocks about anyone else so he has no business being in a band.’
With that Will was gone, leaving the boy dumbfounded.
‘I didn’t want to say anything while Brian was here,’ Josie whispered to Kate, as she led her into the depths of the pub, ‘but Michael isn’t the only Nigerian posted here. He’s got a friend.’
* **
God, Josie sure could knock them back,Kate thought woozily, as she staggered home in the small hours. She had left Josie in the pub, with Michael trying to match her pint for pint. Kate had got a reprieve when she conked out on the table. Josie had offered to escort her home, but Kate knew she wanted to stay with her Nigerian and had assured her she would be fine walking back by herself. Now she was regretting not having taken Josie up on her offer.
The countryside was pitch-black and she was a little spooked, walking as fast as her floppy legs would carry her. She couldn’t see a thing, couldn’t walk straight and, several times, almost ended up in the ditch. She imagined the re-enactment of her last known movements onCrimecall. As she puffed up the hill, her heart was pounding, and it wasn’t only because of the steep climb. She was relieved to see the house with its welcoming lights and all but ran the last few yards to the door.
Thankful to be home, she went straight upstairs. She had to lie down quickly to stop everything spinning or she’d throw up. Very quietly, so as not to disturb Brian, she opened the door and crept into the room. He was sleeping soundly. She couldn’t find anything in the dark so she stripped off her jeans and got into bed beside him in her T-shirt. Grateful to feel safe again, she decided to forgive him for the tap water episode. He stirred in his sleep and she snuggled up to his back, then went out like a light.
6
When Kate woke the next morning, it took her a while to remember where she was. Since she had come back from Africa, where she had moved to a new place almost every day, it had been taking her a while to get her bearings. She was pretty sure she wasn’t still on the trip, but she had a feeling she wasn’t at her flat either. She opened her eyes and looked for clues. The first thing she saw was a huge inflatable shark, leering at her. The sun was streaming in through the window, illuminating burnished orange walls and polished wooden floorboards. It was her bedroom in West Cork. She sank back into the pillow. She remembered now. She and Brian had come down for the weekend. They’d had a nightmare journey on the bus, and then Will had picked them up. Grace had given them the guest bedroom?—
Kate’s blood froze and her eyes flew open in horror as the events of the previous day slammed to the front of her brain. Grace had given her and Brian the guest room, and had put Will in Kate’s.
Which would make the arm thrown across her and the warm breath on the back of her neck…Will’s.
Shit, shit, shit!The rest of it came back now – Josie’s Nigerian, the lock-in at the pub, staggering home alone and crashing into bed. It had always amazed her how effectively you could operate on autopilot when you were completely smashed: your internal GPS somehow got you home unscathed – except when it didn’t. This time her automatic pilot had failed her and had landed her firmly in the poo.
She looked dolefully at the shark.
Gotcha, it seemed to say, grinning evilly. Even the orange walls mocked her as she recalled a friend of Brian’s, afeng shuiaficionado, telling her that orange was not an auspicious colour for a bedroom. She had always dismissedfeng shuias a lot of hocus-pocus, but now she wondered if perhaps there wasn’t something in it, after all.
At least Will was still asleep. If she was very careful, she might just manage to wriggle out of bed without waking him. Flattening herself into the mattress, she attempted to slide out smoothly from under his arm without disturbing him. She had almost made it to the edge of the bed when she felt him stir and knew that he had woken up. ‘Kate?’ he asked groggily, his voice husky with sleep.
She felt the mattress give as he propped himself up on an elbow, and turned to face him.
‘Hi.’
‘Hi,’ he echoed, a little dazed. ‘This is a nice surprise.’
‘For me too,’ she said hastily, terrified that he would think she had somehow engineered this. ‘I mean it’s asurprisefor me too,’ she added, ‘not that it’s nice.’ She didn’t want him to think she was some kind of mad stalker who had sneaked into bed with him when he wasn’t looking. ‘Not that it’snotnice,’ she added, realising she’d sounded rude.
Oh, shut up, Kate, shut up!
Will was smiling at her indulgently. ‘How did you get here?’
