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“They’re perfect, thank you.”
She runs a bath and lowers herself into it. It’s refreshingly hot. The water sears her skin, washing away the events of the days before.
She thinks back to the apartment with Griffin, and it feels surreal now she’s here. She feels bad for just walking out, but he doesn’t care about her, he won’t mind, she tells herself. Griffin will be glad to get his space back.
She can hear Nav downstairs. He’s singing along to the radio, out of tune. She smiles. It’s reassuring, being somewhere familiar.
The water’s tepid now and she’s getting cold. Jess stands up out of the bath and wraps a towel around herself. She hears the doorbell ring and stops. She doesn’t dare move.
The hallway is just below the bathroom, and Jess can hear a voice filter up the stairs. She opens the door a crack and listens.
“DS Taylor. Police.” A woman, businesslike and formal. “Dr. Sharma?”
“How can I help?” she hears Nav say.
“I’m looking for Jessica Ambrose. And I’m hoping you know where she is.”
“I haven’t seen her since she stole my car on Tuesday,” Nav replies.
“Tuesday?” the detective repeats. “And you say she took it without your permission?”
“Yes. As I told your colleagues at the time.”
Jess glances around the room. There is no way she can get out of the bathroom without the detective seeing her. She holds her breath, shivering, still in just the towel.
“Can I come in?” Taylor asks.
“Look, I’ve just come off nights at the hospital.” Nav’s voice is calm, measured, but unmistakably frosty. “I work as a junior doctor in oncology. I’m exhausted, about to have something to eat, and, as you have reminded me, annoyed because you’ve seized my car. If you have more questions, could you come by later or arrange to meet me? I’m back there tomorrow.” He’s used to being under pressure. But not used to lying to the police, Jess thinks, feeling another surge of guilt.
There’s a pause. Jess imagines the detective craning her neck into his house, looking for a sign she’s been there. She glances across the bathroom to where her pile of clothes lie on the floor. She wonders what she might have left in the woman’s view.
“Fine. I’ll do that, Doctor.”
She breathes out as she hears the front door close. She pokes her head out of the bathroom. She can just see Nav. He’s standing next to the door, resting against the wall, his head in his hands.
* * *
Jess gets dressed as quickly as she can in the new clothes, then goes downstairs. Nav has gone back into the kitchen, and she can hear him rattling around with saucepans and plates. She stands in the doorway, watching him, and he jumps when he sees her.
“There you are! You hungry?” he says. His voice seems unnaturally cheerful. He turns quickly away from her.
“The police were here,” Jess says, and he turns back. “I heard them. Thank you.”
“You’d do the same for me,” Nav replies, dismissing it.
“And I’m sorry about your car.”
He looks at her for just a little too long. “Yes, well. That little problem I could have done without. You owe me.” Jess nods. Another one to add to the collection, she realizes with a sting.
“Now come and eat.”
It’s the first proper meal since the fire, and Jess is starving. Nav has always been a good cook, but this evening the simple risotto is the best thing she’s ever tasted. She eats it ravenously, barely pausing until it’s gone.
When they’ve finished, Nav clears the plates away and they sit next to each other on the sofa. It’s a place she’s been a thousand times before: civilized dinners with Patrick, Alice asleep upstairs. New Year’s Eve parties, surrounded by enthusiastically drinking medics. She knows Nav has a box of toys, Alice’s favorites, squirrelled away for when he babysits. More than once she’s dozed off on this very couch after a night out.
But today isn’t the easy conversation she’s had before with Nav. He looks at her and she refuses to make eye contact. She imagines the concern on his face. She can’t stand it: the pity, the obvious sympathy.
“Stop looking at me,” she mutters.
