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We do. And even with the cold light coming in under the blind, and us both being a bit mussy and morningy, it’s not as exposing as it was last night. Or maybe it is. Just in a different way. Because, while I’m not breaking my heart open all over again, you do have to be very, very into somebody if you’re up for doing them when you still smell of each other from the night before and neither of yez have brushed your teeth.
In any case, it goes well enough we nearly miss breakfast.
“It’s all you can eat,” Jonathan explains, as we rush downstairs.
“Yeah, I noticed.”
“The breakfast,” he play-snarls. And it feels good—better than good, it feels great to be getting to see so much of this side of him. The side that gives a shit about things that aren’t work. The side that can be playful and sexy and generous and not just in a paying-for-the-buffet way.
And then I remember the other side. The side where I’m technically dating a bloke who thinks I’ve got amnesia when I’ve not. When the reason he thinks I’ve got amnesia when I’ve not is that it was the only way I could think to stop him firing me and everybody I work with. Only now I’ve quit so that doesn’t apply anymore and so I should probably tell him—should probably have told him before—but I didn’t and I can’t and I couldn’t andfuck.
In another world, I handled this better. Then again in that world maybe Brian and Tiff don’t have jobs right now. Or maybe in that world everything is fine because I found the six magic words that would make everything okay. But I don’t live in that world, I live in this one. Where things are complicated and messyand you make mistakes and compromises and stuff gets out of your control so pissing quickly.
Jonathan gives me a little nudge towards the buffet. “Come on, there’ll be nothing left.”
And I concentrate on piling sausages onto a plate so I don’t have to think about anything else. Unfortunately, it doesn’t work so it comes down to Jonathan to break the silence.
“So, did you sleep well?” he asks.
Which means, on top of anything else, I’m worried I snore. “All right I think,” I say. “Then again how d’you tell?”
He gives me a suspicious look over his bacon and builder’s tea. “What do you mean?”
“You’re asleep, aren’t you? So you might be sleeping really well but not know it. Or you might be tossing and turning and sayingooh eck keep the badgers away from meand you’d not realise.”
“Ooh eck keep the badgers away?” He’s smiling again, and it’s a different sort of smile than the one I’m used to. It’s still two parts grumpy and it’s still got an edge ofI enjoy that you look like a knobendbut there’s caring there too. Real caring that I think he’s always had deep down, it’s just taken me a while to see it and him a while to share it.
“Well, I don’t know, do I? On account of the aforesaidbeing asleepsituation. I’m just, what d’you call it? Riffing.”
“Ooh eck,” Jonathan repeats, totally deadpan. “The badgers.”
I decide I might as well stick to my guns. “Yes. That is what dreams are like. Also badgers are scary.”
He looks unconvinced. “In what way?”
“They’re up to something.”
“Hmm.” He chews thoughtfully on a rasher. “Theydohave those stripes on their faces like they’re in the SAS.”
“Exactly.” I don’t know how we got to SAS badgers but I’mglad of the distraction. “They’re probably doing some kind of covert operation like. Don’t trust 'em.”
He takes a sip of his tea. “I’ve always found them quite comforting. I think I watched a ClaymationWind in the Willowswhen I was young and the Badger in that had a sort of”—he’s looking almost embarrassed—“gentle strength to him that I found very reassuring.”
“Yeah, that daddy energy is how they get you.”
“I did not saydaddy energy.”
I smile at him. “No, but you were thinking it. Anyway, when’re we picking up Pauline?”
“In about an hour. She’s an early riser.”
“Seems like the lot of yez are.”
Jonathan nods. “It’s a family trait. And given what a long trip it is, probably for the best.”
“Soonest started soonest finished,” I agree. It’s the kind of nan-wisdom that seems appropriate given where we are and what we’re here for. “Oh, by the way,” I add trying to sound as conversational as I can, “I’m going to stick around here for a bit. I’ve got a van I’ve not used in a while that’ll be helpful with party stuff, and it doesn’t make sense to do two trips. Plus I thought I might see my GP while I’m up here.”
“You remember who they are?” Jonathan asks. There’s no suspicion in it, but for a second I fluff it anyway.
