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‘Are you all right?’
‘Yes. Sorry, bad dream. Did I wake you?’
‘You cried out.’ Clara sat down on the edge of the bed, far enough away from him that he couldn’t reach her. Wise move.
‘I...didn’t realise...’
‘I heard you muttering as well.’
Muttering. That generally involved words. Gabriel wondered if they’d been intelligible and, if so, what they were. No one had ever accused him of muttering in his sleep before.
But then no one had ever accused him of crying out in his sleep before either. The one thing about sex was that it always allowed him to sleep peacefully afterwards.
‘Go back to bed, Clara. I’m sorry I disturbed you.’
‘Isn’t there something I can do?’
Not unless she wanted to stay and make him forget everything. She was wearing a pair of shorts and a vest top with thin straps over the shoulders, and the light that filtered through from the sitting room into his room was enough that he could make out the shape of her breasts.
‘No. You really should go. I’ve been making a good job of keeping my promise.’
She gave a little nod of acknowledgement, her hair brushing her shoulders. Gabriel was sure he’d resisted greater temptations in his life, but couldn’t remember quite when.
‘That’s not the only cure for night terrors.’ Maybe she was going to let him hold her while he went back to sleep. It would be something new. He didn’t remember a time when he’d just slept with a woman without making love to her.
‘Put some clothes on. I’ll be back in a moment.’ Clara got to her feet, heading towards her own room.
He was wide awake now, and curious to see what she had in mind. Hastily, he got out of bed, pulling on a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt, and found her in the sitting room, wearing a zip-up top over her vest. Wordlessly, she took his hand, leading him downstairs and into the large kitchen.
‘Sit...’ She indicated a chair, and he sat down. Then she reached up to hook a small saucepan down from the rack, putting it onto the range and filling it with milk.
‘A nightcap?’ Gabriel grinned at her.
‘Cocoa.’ Clara had flipped open a few cupboards and found a packet, and she held it up for him to see. ‘It’s better for helping you sleep than sex any day of the week.’
‘Whoever told you that isn’t doing it properly.’
She chuckled, spooning the cocoa into the milk and stirring it as it heated. ‘Well, maybe they’re just so different that you can’t really make a comparison.’
This was nice. None of the bustle and voices of the day. Just the two of them, with the sound of the sea crashing somewhere in the distance. She carried the mugs of cocoa to the table, sitting down opposite him.
‘Thank you.’
‘Do you want to talk about it?’
Gabriel had already shaken his head before it occurred to him that perhaps he did want to talk about it. Not speaking about the nightmares, keeping his own feelings to himself, had become second nature to him.
‘It’s...a long time ago. Done now. Finished.’
‘Clearly not finished, for you. You were dreaming about what happened to your brother?’
Gabriel nodded, taking a sip of his cocoa.
‘But you don’t talk about it.’ She was gentle, but Clara didn’t seem to be about to give up. It occurred to Gabriel that he didn’t want her to.
‘My parents lost a son.’
‘And you lost a brother. You had to fight to survive for three days.’
