Page 43

‘The plot is a bit laboured,’ he said. ‘And slow.’

‘Ouch.’

‘Easily fixed.’

‘For you, maybe.’

I mulled over what he’d said. To be fair, he was probably right. And in the same way his reviews criticised his characterisation, mine (the occasional ones I let myself read, anyway) sometimes alluded to the plot being thin. Which hurt, of course it did, but it felt like something I could improve on. I just hadn’t yet, no matter how hard I’d tried.

‘So I was thinking . . .’ said Theo.

‘Your brain is really working overtime here,’ I said. ‘Is it the heat, do you think?’

‘Possibly.’

‘Go on, then. What’s this grand thought of yours?’

‘I reckon that instead of writing separately, in different rooms, as though we’re a thousand miles apart, we should write together.’

Luckily he couldn’t see my face, which was contorted into a mixture of horror, fear and downright panic. No, no, no, this was not what we agreed.

‘How would that help?’ I asked, trying not to sound as though I’d written his stupid suggestion off already. Which I had, obviously.

‘Well, I’m good at plot but terrible at character and you’re sort of the opposite.’

‘Oh, so I’m terrible at plot now, am I?’

‘I’ve read worse.’

He was saying some not very nice things about my work, although, to be fair, it wasn’t anything I didn’t already know myself. And yet at the same time, my eyes – now open – keptflickering up to his naked torso, the smattering of dark hair across his chest, the slick sheen of sweat on his shoulders, the taut skin between his belly button and the start of the towel . . .

‘You really are a charmer,’ I said, dragging my mind back to what felt safe and familiar, i.e. hating him.

‘Not so much these days,’ he said.

It was so quiet you could have heard a pin drop.

‘Are you referring to your former Lothario status?’ I asked, wandering into unchartered territory. The heat must be going to my head, too. ‘I meant to ask what you’ve been up to for the last six years. Whether you’ve had any actual relationships, or whether you’ve still got three women on the go at once.’

I heard a faint huff. ‘I was in my twenties when we met,’ he said. ‘Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do? Try things out? Have fun? Work out what it is that you want and don’t want?’

I turned to face him. ‘That’s fine if you’re not hurting people in the process.’

He rubbed his jaw. I was making him uncomfortable – good.

‘That was never my intention,’ he said. ‘And for your information, I don’t do that anymore.’

I swallowed hard.

‘So there’s someone special?’ I asked, shifting again so that I wasn’t looking directly at him when I heard the answer.

‘No. Not really. I start seeing someone with the best intentions. Sometimes it’s great for a while. But it feels like there’s always something missing. You know?’

‘Not really,’ I said.

‘But there was something missing with Jackson?’

He had me there.