We look at each other, neither of us speaking.
Doctor Adonis clears his throat. It jars because I’d forgotten he was there.
‘I’ll leave you two alone,’ he says.
I shuffle forward to give him room to leave, and then it’s just Mark and me.
‘I wasn’t expectingyou,’ he says quietly.
Taking another tentative step forward, I lay the bag at the foot of his bed. ‘Theo packed this for you. It’s got clothes and stuff.’
He nods. ‘That’s great. Thanks for bringing it.’
‘No problem.’
Another long pause. ‘Do you mind if I get changed?’ He points to the bag.
‘Yes, of course. Sorry.’ He pushes the covers off, and I get a glimpse of tanned knee under his blue hospital gown before I spin round to give him privacy.
The springs squeak as he gets out of bed. ‘Any chance you brought a razor?’
‘I just brought what Theo packed.’ And because it seems important that I fill the silence, I say, ‘He says you’ve beena terrible patient. I expect you’ve been terrorising the staff, insisting you know better.’
‘I’ve been a model patient.’
He sprays two blasts of deodorant.
The smell is surprisingly familiar, even after only a couple of days under the same roof. Unless he’s worn the same one since he was a teenager?
‘I doubt that very much,’ I say. ‘Model patients don’t lie.’
‘Is this because I told them I only drink a couple of units a week? Doctorsexpectyou to lie about that.’
‘You told them I was your fiancée.’
I hear the zip of his fly. ‘You make it sound like I told them you were my dealer.’
‘I didn’t like having to lie.’
‘To Doctor Moron?’
I frown. ‘Why would you call him that?’
‘Only a moron would gawp at another man’s fiancée infrontof him.’
‘If he was gawping, it was because I looked like a car-crash last night.’
‘You don’t look like a car-crash today.’
I jump, not expecting him to be standing so close.
‘Sorry,’ he says. ‘I just need to grab my watch from the chair.’
I move out of the way so he can reach it. ‘Does it still work?’
‘No, but it might be fixable.’
He was wearing it last night. The glass face glinted in the moonlight as I clawed at his arm, frantic to haul him out of the water. If I hadn’t managed, if I’d been asleep when he came back, his stopped watch would have recorded the time he died. The thought makes me woozy. I brace a hand against the wall.
