Page 79 of Crave

Zara barked a laugh over her phone. “Honestly, he’s one tantrum away from a daytime drama.”

“He’ll end up starring in one,” Henry said, not bothering to look up as he flipped a page in his medical journal. “Probably shirtless. Definitely misdiagnosed.”

“Hopefully syphilis,” I muttered. “He’d suit the aesthetic.”

Henry huffed. “Please. That would require commitment. This is more…deranged method acting.”

“I wouldn’t even want him landing that role.” I took a long sip of wine. “Too much realism.”

“Hopefully he’ll get cast in something that gets cancelled after two episodes and a lawsuit.” Zara tipped her glass towards me. “You can draft the claim, darling.”

I snorted. “Won’t need to. He’s a walking litigation risk. He’s chasing a scandal before he’s even had a job.”

“He’s certainly compiling enough background material for when he is famous.” Zara sank back into the sofa, her leg nudging Henry’s. He went pink around the ears. I pretended not to see.

Pretence was practically our fourth housemate.

Zara sighed, reaching for her wine again. “All we can hope for now is that the Rothwells have forgotten to cancel their monthly Fortnum & Mason hamper. If I lose that divine bubble bath, I’ll commit actual crimes.”

“More divine than Tristan’s mother’s spa days?” Henry asked.

Zara wrinkled her nose. “Fine. The Hale-Fitzroys do gifts properly.” A beat. Then she grinned. “Except Benji’s truffles. Those I’d kill for.”

“Feel free to kill him for them.” I thumbed through Benji’s old phone, then sent off the recording of his and Ollie’s orgy from there to his new number.

Another text came through almost immediately. I’m sorry. Please. I can explain.

Silence from then on.

“You did the right thing.” Zara held my gaze. “I’m sorry things with Ollie went the way they did. If I had known…”

I glanced at Henry. “How could you have known?”

Henry pursed his lips, then looked down at his book.

Zara leapt up. “I’m going to bed. Have an early start tomorrow.” She gave Henry nudge with her knee. He looked up at her. And I once again ignored the silent exchange.

Then she disappeared down the hall.

Henry waited a moment before asking, “You okay?”

“You’re the doctor, you tell me.”

“Well, you look marginally better than the bloke who came into A&E yesterday with a pole through his skull.”

“That’s…quite a low bar.”

“That’s what he said.”

I snorted, and Henry smiled. “You should get some sleep.” He closed his book and stood. “A good night’s sleep does the world of good.”

“Yeah?” I tilted my head towards the stairs. “That where you’re heading, right? To bed?”

He flushed, the corner of his mouth twitching. “Naturally.”

I laughed under my breath and took another sip of wine. A few minutes later their doors shut. Separately, for show. Then came the quiet patter of Zara’s bare feet crossing the landing to Henry’s room. Not even subtle. The thought almost made me smile.

Almost.