“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 beexcessivelyboring.”
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 forthatparticular 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.”
