Page 109 of The Honeymoon Affair
‘I never thought it was.’
Steve is a careful motorcyclist. I always felt safe on the back of the bike with him.
‘I’m sorry I called you, Izzy, but I couldn’t think of anyone else.’ He attempts to rub his forehead but instead hits himself on the nose with the wrist support. He winces. ‘If there was any other option, I’d take it,’ he tells me, ‘but as it is . . .’
‘You’ll have to come home with me,’ I concede. ‘When are your folks back?’
‘In a few days,’ he replies. ‘I won’t be in the way, I promise.’
He absolutely will be in the way. And I’m not sure how he’ll manage when I’m at work. I’m not going to be able to slip away a bit early like I did today. Besides, I have other things going on in my life. Like Charles. Who’ll be really pissed at me for abandoning both him and the launch. He’s already pissed at me. I can tell from his texts. I want to call him, but I can’t right now, not with the taxi pulling up and Steve trying to manoeuvre himself inside.
Steve is painfully aware of every bump in the road, but fortunately it only takes us fifteen minutes to get home. It takes nearly as long again to get him up the stairs. He says he’s happy to sit in the armchair by the TV for a while, but I say he’ll be better off in bed, where the painkillers can do their job. Besides, I have to call Charles, and I’m not doing it in front of Steve. I put him into my bedroom, since he’s familiar with it; I’ll move into my parents’ room while he’s here. When he’s finally sorted, I bring him tea and biscuits. I have to help him drink the tea because he can’t move the arm in the sling and he has no strength in his hand with the support bandage.
‘To think that I nearly had to kill myself to get you to look after me again.’ He smiles weakly at me.
‘I’m very glad you didn’t kill yourself,’ I say. ‘And I’m happy to have you here tonight. But I’ll be out of here by ten thirty tomorrow and I won’t be back till after seven.’ I give him a worried look. ‘I’m not sure how you’ll manage on your own.’
‘Can’t you change shifts?’ he asks. ‘You’ve done it before.’
I tell him that it’s not feasible. I’m not going to change my shifts just to suit Steve. I can’t help thinking that this makes me seem mean and unreasonable, but I’m already doing him a massive favour by letting him stay here. I add that if I was on nights I’d be sleeping during the day and not able to look after him either, then I close the bedroom door firmly behind me and go downstairs.
I make myself a cup of tea and bring it into the living room, where I flop into the armchair. It takes a while before I summon up the energy to call Charles.
‘I wasn’t expecting to hear from you,’ he says with a chill in his voice. ‘I thought the best I could hope for was a text.’
‘I’m really sorry,’ I say. ‘It was all a bit of a mess.’
‘Tell me.’
He listens without saying anything.
‘ . . . and so if we can’t find somewhere else for him, he’ll have to stay here for a couple of days,’ I conclude.
‘What exactly is your current relationship with this guy?’ Charles’s tone remains cool.
‘I told you. He’s my ex.’
‘Doesn’t seem all that ex to me,’ he says. ‘You’re the first person he calls when he’s in trouble, and now he’s installed himself in your house.’
‘Rather like you and Ariel,’ I say.
‘That’s a completely different scenario,’ he tells me after a moment’s silence.
‘Is it?’ I ask. ‘She was with you tonight, for heaven’s sake.’
‘She was working!’ exclaims Charles. ‘And she’s not bloody well staying in my house.’
‘She doesn’t need to. She hangs out in your back garden all the time,’ I retort.
‘Because that’s where her office is.’
‘Yes, and when I said I was uncomfortable with it, you dismissed it. Now you’re uncomfortable with Steve staying with me, and I haven’t dismissed it but simply drawn a comparison.’
‘It’s not the same,’ insists Charles.
‘Well, no,’ I agree. ‘Because Steve has his arm in a sling and his foot in a cast and he can’t move without assistance. Whereas Ariel can roam wherever she pleases and you do nothing to stop her.’
‘Ariel is my agent,’ says Charles.
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