The Best Medicine

by Charlotte Fallowfield

  ‘Did you send the roses and the card to Charlie?’ Quinn asked as she folded her arms across her chest and gave him a curious look.

  ‘Quinn,’ I warned. Sometimes I loved her direct approach, but sometimes I wanted to cringe. She had no shame factor at all.

  ‘What? It’s just a question.’

  ‘A rude question.’

  ‘I’ve got to get going,’ Kitt said, looking at his watch. ‘Let me know in the morning how you’re feeling, ok?’

  ‘What about your coffee?’ I asked, my face falling. ‘I thought you were staying for a few minutes.’

  ‘You know I would if I could. Make sure you don’t overdo things, ok?’

  ‘I’ve got her back,’ Quinn said. Kitt nodded and flashed me a smile, then walked out. I hurried after him, giving Quinn a “back off” glare, which made her hold her hands up in defeat as she stayed in the kitchen.

  ‘Kitt,’ I called as he stepped out of the front door.

  ‘Yeah?’ he replied, turning around to face me.

  ‘Is everything ok? You don’t seem yourself tonight and I’m worried.’

  ‘I’m fine, Charlie. Nothing a good night’s sleep won’t cure. Follow the doctor’s orders and don’t overdo things, ok?’

  ‘I won’t. Come here a second,’ I said, too scared of venturing out onto the snowy path again.

  ‘Charlie, I need to go,’ he sighed, running a hand up over his face and through his hair.

  ‘Come here, please.’

  ‘What?’ He did as he was told and stepped within reach. I threw my arms around his neck and hugged him tightly as I kissed his cheek, then felt his hands curl around my waist. ‘What was that for?’ he asked, his voice full of surprise.

  ‘Just because. Thanks for being you. Not many girls are lucky enough to have a best friend as good as you, let alone a guy. I really appreciate you and everything you do for me.’

  ‘It’s not one sided, Charlie. You bring light and fun into my life and always cheer me up when I need it most. It’s a two-way friendship.’

  ‘It’s a great friendship,’ I said, kissing his cheek again.

  ‘It is,’ he agreed, softly kissing my temple before easing me away from him. ‘I really need to go.’

  ‘Drive safely. Text me when you get home so I know you’re ok.’

  ‘Yes, Mum.’ He shook his head with a faint smile playing on his lips before he strode off down my path. I waited and waved him goodbye before shutting the door. When I turned around, Quinn was leaning on the kitchen doorframe.

  ‘Oh yeah, just friends,’ she smirked.

  ‘Even if you were right, which you aren’t, he had plenty of chances just now to say something, seeing how it’s Valentine’s weekend. Besides, he probably overheard what you were saying about him, as your volume control is stuck at extra loud.’

  ‘It’s not easy to admit you love someone when you’ve been parked in the friend zone for so long. Maybe he’s scared in case you don’t feel the same. You do go on about Dr. Fitton all of the time.’

  ‘You know what? Instead of trying to twist a beautiful relationship into something it isn’t, why don’t you make yourself useful and go and make a fire while I do us some drinks. Like you didn’t want to talk yesterday, this is a subject I don’t want to discuss, thank you.’

  ‘Whatever, unbunch your panties, but after years of rejection, I’ve gotten pretty good at reading guys, and I’m sure about this.’

  I sighed as she headed into the lounge, then toed off my shoes and headed into the kitchen to make our drinks and raid the treat cupboard. Hospital food sucked. While the kettle boiled, I picked up the card and headed into the utility room to open it, taking a deep breath before I slid it out.

  It was a simple, modern, contemporary design.

  I opened it to read the typed inscription.

  I blinked back some tears of emotion to think that someone felt strongly enough about me to not only send a card and flowers, but to not try flattering me by saying I was the most perfect person they’d ever set eyes on. No one was perfect, as Daphne so often reminded us. Someone who loved you because you were imperfect was worth so much more than someone who loved you despite you being imperfect. Was this really from Kitt?

  I closed my eyes and shook my head. It couldn’t be, he’d have said something. We were completely honest with each other. That’s part of what I loved about our friendship. While my heart warmed at the thought that my best friend might be in love with me, at the thought of having him with me for the rest of my life, an arctic shiver also ran through my body at the thought of what I could lose if we tried a relationship and it failed. And I was sure he’d feel the same.

  No, this wasn’t from Kitt. And there was no way McFitty would risk his career by breaking the law to use my address from my medical records for his own purposes. I opened my eyes and smiled.

  It was suddenly obvious. It was Daphne. She’d sent them to cheer me up on the worst day of the year for singletons, just like my mum used to do when I was a teenager. I took the card and set it on the island next to the roses and smiled.

  Love was love. I was happy to accept it, whoever it had come from.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Feeling Hot, Hot, Hot

  One Month Later – A Friday in March

  ‘HOW GREAT IS THAT view?’ I asked Quinn as we dumped our cases and looked out of the patio doors from our apartment in Lanzarote. We had our own terrace, with a small plunge pool down some steps on another level. Our vista took in some palm trees and had a view over the rooftops of the other apartments built into the hill, which sloped down to a shimmering blue Atlantic Ocean that stretched out for miles ahead of us.

  ‘Pretty good,’ she agreed. ‘And it’s great to feel some heat after all the snow back home the last few months.’

  ‘Ok, how about we unpack and go out to get some nibbles and drinks. We could eat out tonight and see if we can find a club?’ I suggested.

  ‘Sounds good to me,’ she agreed. Her cottage renovations were in their final phase, and I had some down time after submitting my latest novel to my publishers, so we’d decided to have a week away together for some sun and fun. When we went back home, I had a new project to start working on, and Quinn would be getting settled into Honeysuckle Cottage before starting her new job in April.

  We headed out as the sun was starting to set, dressed up for a night on the town, and walked down the steep road that led to the main drag of Puerto del Carmen, where there were lots of restaurants, shops, and bars. Even off season, the place was busy, and the gentle breeze that rolled in from the sea was welcome relief in the heat. I smiled as I breathed in the scent of the ocean, thinking of Kitt immediately. I’d messaged him earlier to let him know we’d arrived safely. I’d done my best to convince him to come away with us both. If anyone needed a holiday, it was him. But as expected, he’d refused, saying he couldn’t leave his mum for that long.

  After some delicious calamari and crispy frites, along with a jug of sangria to wash it down, we ordered some ice cream and cocktails and spent the next hour laughing as we traded more of our dating horror stories.

  ‘Come on then, I’m pleasantly drunk enough to go dancing in this indecent dress,’ I told Quinn as we split the bill and I stood up, tugging on the hem.

  ‘You look sexy. You should wear my clothes more often, they show off all of your curves.’

  ‘Because you’re about two sizes smaller than me, Quinn.’

  ‘I’d rather have your British “arse” than my flat American ass.’

  ‘Your arse isn’t flat, though admittedly, it isn’t as curvaceous as mine,’ I said as we headed out to walk along the promenade and take our pick of where to go.

  ‘Hang on a second, I want some smokes,’ she said, darting into a shop. I gasped in amazement as I followed her inside.

  ‘I had no idea you smoked. I’ve never seen you with one, and we spend a lot of time together.’

  ‘I started when I was a teena
ger. I pretty much quit a few years ago, but when I’m out and nicely chilled, I like to have the odd one. You ever smoked?’

  ‘No, I’d probably choke to death,’ I laughed.

  ‘Well, when I get you a bit more canned, we’ll give you a test drive.’

  ‘Canned?’

  ‘Yeah, you know, sauced, hammered, wrecked, drunk,’ she said, handing over her euros to the shopkeeper.

  ‘Canned, that’s a new one to me. But you can keep your stinky sticks of death, alcohol is a good enough buzz for me.’

  ‘Whatever, Miss Goody-Two-Shoes,’ she chuckled, ripping the cellophane off the packet and dumping it in a bin outside. She flipped the pack open and managed to do an impressive manoeuvre to get one cigarette to stand up without even touching them, before letting it hang from her lips as she flicked the lighter, her hands shielding the flickering orange flame from the breeze. ‘Ahhhh, it’s been too long,’ she sighed as she inhaled, then exhaled slowly, the smoke curling from her lips making me cough.

  ‘Couldn’t actually be long enough for me,’ I retorted, wafting the vile-smelling stuff out of my face.

  ‘What’s the most rebellious thing you’ve ever done?’ she asked.

  ‘I don’t know. Does my rather disturbing Internet search history for book research count?’

  ‘No,’ she laughed. ‘You must have done something bad, like got arrested, done drugs, been kicked out of clubs?’

  ‘No, no, and no. Let me guess, you can tick off all three?’ I shook my head as she winked at me.

  ‘Tell me you at least have a tattoo?’

  ‘Nope,’ I said.

  ‘Then I’m going to introduce you to the wild side this week.’

  ‘Quinn, I don’t need drugs, they’re dangerous, and I don’t plan on being arrested or kicked out of anywhere. I have a public persona to maintain now, if I want to keep my publishing contract.’

  ‘Doesn’t stop you from smoking or getting a tatt,’ she said firmly. ‘Cautious Charlie is about to become Foxy Faulkner,’ she grinned, stubbing out her cigarette as she grabbed my arm and dragged me into a bar that was pumping out some great music.

  ‘I have a feeling I’m going to regret this,’ I whined.

  A Few Hours Later – Early Saturday Morning

  ‘Sssshhhh,’ I giggled, stumbling over one of the plant pots on the patio as we rolled in at four a.m., more than worse for wear. ‘I need coffee, then water, lots and lots of water.’

  ‘Liquor coffee? I’m all over that action,’ Quinn slurred.

  ‘Liqueur coffee, get with the British programme,’ I laughed, plonking myself down on one of the patio chairs to try and focus on the pretty view below, the twinkling lights of the apartments and sea front glistening in the dark. After too many attempts to get the key into the lock, with much accompanying cursing, Quinn finally achieved her goal and pushed the patio doors open and headed inside. The sound of lots of banging and clattering came drifting out, as well as a few more American and British cusses. I was just nodding off in my upright position when she reappeared, bringing a coffee that was more liqueur than actual coffee, but it was nice. When she tried to tempt me into having a cigarette again, I declined and staggered my way through the apartment into my bedroom.

  I woke up face down with my lips stuck to the pillow, a banging head, and a dry mouth. I peeled my face off the material, got up, and bounced off the bedroom doorframe before veering left into the bathroom, only to gasp at the state of me. My blonde hair was sticking out at all angles, looking like I’d spent hours backcombing it. I hadn’t removed my makeup last night, and my former sexy smoky-eyed look now resembled a bad attempt at Goth makeup. There was crusty drool all over my cheek and pillow creases all over my forehead. I cleaned my face and brushed my teeth vigorously, then stripped off to have a shower.

  I winced as I rubbed the shower cream over my hip, and looked down to see why it was stinging so badly.

  ‘Quinn Garcia!’ I screamed, shock and horror flooding my veins. ‘What the hell did you do to me last night? I have a tattoo!’

  I heard the sound of laughter approaching the bathroom door and glared at her through the wood that separated us. It wasn’t just any tattoo either. Oh no. I had a small outline of a black heart on the front of my hip, with the word “Kitt” stencilled inside it in fancy font.

  ‘I only suggested getting a tattoo. You came up with that idea all on your own,’ she called through the door.

  ‘I don’t remember even going into a tattoo parlour, let alone having one done, especially not this,’ I hissed.

  ‘Really? You were all for it when I agreed it would look cute.’

  ‘I’m going to bloody kill you.’ I stomped my foot on the tiled floor and aggressively turned off the taps. Wrapping myself in a towel, I stormed over and flung open the door to glare at her.

  ‘What?’ she protested, leaning against the doorframe in a brown bikini, with an innocent look on her face. ‘It’s tiny, and you picked it. It’s not like I dragged you in there against your will and forced a skull and crossbones design on your arm, where everyone could see it.’

  ‘I can see it. I can see it, Quinn, and it implies more than friendship with Kitt,’ I muttered, pointing down in its general vicinity.

  ‘Hmmm, it does, doesn’t it? Maybe seeing it in black and white everyday will open your eyes and make you realise you’re not friends anymore. You’re more.’

  ‘Off limits topic,’ I warned her as I turned right and headed into my bedroom. ‘I can’t believe you let this happen while I was so drunk I didn’t even know it was happening. I’m stuck with this for life. And why do you look so fresh this morning, when I feel like hell?’ I demanded.

  ‘Because I’m a city girl. I’m hardened to a heavy night, unlike you soft Dilbury-ers,’ she laughed. ‘I’ll put some coffee on and grab you a bottle of water and some pastries for breakfast, they’ll help soak up the alcohol. I’m out on the terrace when you’re ready.’

  ‘I hate you,’ I yelled, as I pulled out a pair of my lacy knickers and my sarong.

  ‘No, you don’t. I make you have fun,’ she yelled back.

  ‘Fun, I’ll give you fun,’ I muttered under my breath, seething from every pore.

  I slipped on my knickers and tied my sarong around my bust, knotting it tightly to stop it from slipping down, and smoothed my damp hair back into a high ponytail. Grabbing my sun lotion and glasses, I padded barefoot through the open-plan kitchen, dining room, and lounge and out through the patio doors to find Quinn sitting reading. She had her feet up on one of the chairs and there was an array of tasty-looking pastries sitting next to a steaming coffee, glass of orange juice, and a bottle of water on the table next to her.

  ‘Am I forgiven?’ she asked, giving me a sheepish look.

  ‘No, that will be sometime never,’ I retorted, the annoyance still apparent from my tone, which I immediately softened. ‘But thank you for this, it looks good. What are you reading?’ I asked as I sat next to her and tore off a piece of almond-filled croissant.

  ‘Some filthy book written by this English author you may have heard of,’ she grinned, flashing me her screen to show me one of my books.

  ‘I’m explicit. Trust me, there’s a difference between explicit and filthy.’

  ‘I’m a pretty good judge of both, with a lot more experience than you,’ she scoffed. ‘Some of this is filthy. I can’t believe Daphne reads them.’

  ‘Whatever,’ I said, aiming for indifference, but not able to keep myself from smiling. ‘You’ll be paying for the tattoo removal when we get home.’

  ‘Oh, don’t get rid of it, it’s super cute. Give it a while and if you really hate it, you could always see if they could alter Kitt to McFitty or fill it in so it’s a solid black heart,’ she suggested. I gave her a look over the top of my glasses and picked up my juice, chugging it all back to relieve my dry mouth.

  After finishing my food, coffee, and the small bottle of water, I was feeling a little more huma
n again, and slathered myself in carrot oil. It was my go-to lotion when I was extra pale as it really deepened my tan, but the damn stuff was so greasy. I couldn’t be bothered to get up to wash my hands, so I wiped them on my sarong and used the ends of the knot to get all of the excess oil out from between my fingers.

  ‘Do you have to?’ I sighed as Quinn lit a cigarette.

  ‘Are you going to be miserable all damn holiday?’

  ‘It’s a horrible habit.’

  ‘Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it. Once you’ve smoked one, then you’re qualified to give unsolicited advice.’

  ‘Fine, give me the damn lighter,’ I said, snatching it out of her left hand. She grinned and pushed the packet of nasal torture over towards me, shaking it to make one jump out for me. I whipped it out and stuck it between my lips, trying to emulate her, then grimaced as the paper stuck to my skin.

  ‘I ought to film this. I never actually thought you’d go through with it.’

  ‘Anything to shut you up and make you stop,’ I muttered, the cigarette happily welded to my bottom lip, dangling as I spoke. I ran my thumb over the flint wheel to get the lighter to spark, but my fingers were so greasy they kept slipping.

  ‘Wow, you really are missing the cool gene,’ Quinn chuckled as she watched me try again and again. ‘Hand it over, before you take a layer of skin off your thumb.’

  ‘I can do it,’ I told her, pushing her hand away. I already felt like the boring class nerd around her, I didn’t need her reminding me how “uncool” I was. I smirked at her as I covered my thumb in part of the knotted sarong, struck it again, and the lighter ignited first time. Dangling my cigarette over the open flame, I inhaled and choked. ‘Jesus, this is disgusting,’ I coughed, slapping the lighter back down on the table.

  ‘Ermmm, Charlie,’ Quinn said, her eyes opening wide as she looked at me in horror. I managed to remove the cigarette from my lips, taking a layer of skin off them with it, and tried to hold it the way I’d seen her do.

  ‘What? Am I holding it wrong as well? Maybe I’m starting a whole new cool way to handle the puke-inducing, rank stick that tastes like ass.’