AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I take a deep breath. “I hear you.”
“Remember when I was going out with that total nutcase, Dawn?”
“I do.”
“And I dumped her because she was bonkers.”
“Ah-ha, yep.”
“And then, we got back together after her mum died cos she was crying on my shoulder.”
I wince. “I remember.”
“And then I couldn’t dump her for like a year and it was a nightmare.”
“Yep, but—”
“I’m just saying, at times like these, people do crazy shit.”
“You’re right.”
“Anyway, I’ll pick my car up this evening. That okay?”
“Absolutely fine.”
“You’ll be around?”
“I don’t know. If not, I’ll leave the car keys beneath the conifer bush in the front yard.”
“Okay, hun. No worries. See you then hopefully.”
“Okay, bye.”
Albie is still asleep when I get back and I dare not wake him. He needs rest. No doubt, he has sleep debt in the thousands of hours and could sleep for a week.
I make tea and warm my croissant and he still doesn’t stir. My phone is on silent but as I’m sitting in my armchair eating, I watch as my screen constantly lights up with new messages.
They’re all from her.
One of them I catch, which reads:I can see you’re back online! Answer me or find yourself jobless come tomorrow morning!
She hates this, doesn’t she? Having no control. Being on the periphery of something for once in her life, instead of with her mucky fingerprints all over it.
We both know these first forty-eight hours after his father’s passing are the most critical before the story dies down and it’s some other famous person’s father, mother or partner who’s died that’s front-page news instead. If they can’t find anything juicy right away, they’ll give up on it quickly.
If he hadn’t found out at the festival, maybe nobody would have needed to know—he might have been abroad and Sharon would’ve never been any the wiser. He did find out in a public way though, while surrounded by the crew and his bandmates, so it is never fully going to leave public consciousness, is it?
She sees things in terms of publicity, maximum exposure—ultimately, how to sell his pain and make them more money.
What a cow.
I see the messages are still incoming, thick and fast. I don’t want her to find us. He needs this rare bit of time to get himself together before he faces the world, and worse, the funeral.
I’m pacing the room when he makes some noise, then uses the bathroom. Maybe he’ll know what to do for the best.
He staggers into the living room and drops himself into the other armchair with a thump. I get him coffee without a word. He says nothing but when I pass a mug over to him, he eagerly guzzles it down. I grab hot pastries and he eats those, too.
I’m not looking at his body as he mindlessly eats and drinks, nor am I imagining his body inside mine once he’s admitted he feels the same way.
