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‘So, the dog needs a new name.’
‘Apparently so,’ said Rob. Hannah noticed how he gave her his full attention, even when faced with the retreating backside of a beautiful Spanish woman in a tight skirt and a push-up bra.
‘Maybe we should stick withPerro,’ said Hannah. ‘Or an English version, at least. What about Perry?’
‘Like the pear cider,’ said Rob enthusiastically. ‘My grandparents make it.’
‘Really?’
‘Yeah. It’s a Gloucestershire thing, they live in Stroud.’
Hannah nodded, briefly wondering if there would ever be a time in the future when she’d sit in a Gloucestershire garden drinking pear cider with Rob’s grandparents and remember this exact moment. And who would she be, in that imaginary future scenario? The old friend Rob met on holiday, or something else?
‘Scrumpy’s better, though,’ Rob added, rubbing the thin patch of fur between the dog’s ears. ‘That’s how we do it down in Somerset.’
‘As a type of cider, or a dog name?’
Rob looked up and smiled. ‘Both.’
‘Scrumpy,’ said Hannah, looking at the dog. He wagged his tail enthusiastically. ‘Looks like that’s a hit.’
Rob picked Scrumpy up and nuzzled his face into his neck. ‘Thanks for being so amazing about this,’ he said, reaching out to brush his hand on Hannah’s arm. The static on her top made him jump, and they both laughed awkwardly before Rob cleared his throat and put Scrumpy back on the ground. Hannah watched him for a few seconds, wondering if he could also feel the tension in the air, but he was busying himself with topping up their wine. Scrumpy pattered over and clawed at her bare legs, looking for attention, or possibly chorizo, and Hannah squeezed her eyes shut and silently winced so as not to spoil the moment.
‘You sure you’ll be OK on the sofa bed?’ Hannah asked. Rob had just wandered out of the bathroom wearing nothing but a white towel around his waist. It was less revealing than the swimming shorts she’d seen him in before, but felt more intimate, somehow. ‘I really don’t mind taking it.’
‘It’s fine,’ Rob replied. ‘It means I can keep an eye on Scrumpy.’
Hannah nodded, filling a glass with water from the bottle in the fridge. He smelled of citrus shower gel and toothpaste, and it was hard not to stare at his naked torso. She’d used the bathroom first, so she was already in her pyjamas.
‘I’ll get off to bed then,’ she said. ‘See you in the morning.’
‘’Night,’ said Rob, giving her a soft smile. She suppressed a shiver and hurried into the bedroom, closing the door behind her and taking deep, calming breaths.This, for two weeks, she thought.What have I done?
Squeak. Squeak, squeak, squeak.Hannah sat up in bed, brushing the hair from her eyes.What IS that?she thought. The squeaking had been on and off for the past hour, and it was driving her crazy. Did this place have mice? If so, they were having a party.
She climbed out of bed and padded across to the door to the lounge, opening it as quietly as possible so as not to disturb Rob. The squeaking was much louder now, and she could see it was coming from the sofa bed. The springs, maybe? Every squeak was accompanied by a small movement in the bedding, like it was bouncing up and down.Oh good GRIEF, thought Hannah.Is Rob MASTURBATING?
‘Scrumpy, get OFF,’ whispered Rob, sitting up. Hannah covered her mouth to stop herself laughing, as Scrumpy appeared behind him on the other pillow, happily chewing his back leg like it was a chicken drumstick.
‘Are you OK?’ she whispered.
‘God, sorry,’ said Rob. ‘Did he wake you up? He’s driving me CRAZY.’
‘What’s he doing?’
‘Grooming every square inch of his stupid dog body. He’s a proper fidget, and he won’t stay on the floor.’
‘It was actually the squeaky bed springs that woke me up.’
‘Yeah, they’re driving me mad too.’
‘Why don’t we swap? You and Scrumpy take my non-squeaky bed, and I’ll sleep in here.’
Rob huffed impatiently and climbed out of bed. ‘OR, we could just shut Scrumpy in your room so he can lick his arse all night, and you and I can sleep here.’
Hannah looked at him and blinked. Had he really just suggested that?
‘Sorry,’ Rob said awkwardly, hoofing Scrumpy off the sofa bed and shooing him into the bedroom. ‘Bad idea.’
