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‘Beverley would miss you if you went,’ she added, and he swallowed and coughed as his heartbeat returned to a more normal rhythm when he realised what she’d meant was thatBeverleywould miss him, not that Annabelle herself would.
‘Was it cold without a tent or a sleeping bag?’ she asked.
‘No, not last night. It was quite warm. Sand retains a lot of the sun’s heat.’
He could see her thinking, and he fully expected her to ask about the trials of sleeping rough.
‘It was a clear night,’ she said instead. ‘I sat in the garden for a while.’
‘The stars are even better when you get away from the street lights,’ he said, as though trying to persuade her it was one of the reasons for him doing a bunk last night.
‘I bet they are. It must have been magical.’
‘It was.’
‘I’d love to see them sometime. If you do it again, could I come with you?’
‘If you like,’ Ron said. He meant it, but he didn’t think she did. She’d forget she’d asked.
Ron wished he could forget too, but an image of them lying on their backs, their faces turned towards the heavens, was to stay with him for a long time.
