‘Oh, Libs. I’m so sorry.’
‘It’s OK,’ I croaked. ‘Obviously just wasn’t meant to be.’ This seemed to be a regular reprise when it came to me and relationships.
‘You sound awful,’ Amy said, after a pause. ‘Is there anything I can do?’
‘No, just keep away from me for the moment. That’s all I ask.’
‘It makes me feel like a terrible friend. I should be bringing you soup, and magazines and Lucozade.’
‘I’m OK. Just vegging in front of the telly with the duvet. I don’t really feel like eating at the moment anyway, so the lack of soup isn’t a great loss.’ I tried to chuckle, which then turned into a coughing fit. I squeaked an apology and hung up. When I’d finished, I texted Amy, apologising for the abrupt ending and said I’d talk to her later. She replied quickly and told me to let her know if there was anything I needed. I promised that I would before switching the phone to flight mode and burying myself in the duvet. Blearily I watched Saturday Kitchen for a while, drowning out the commentary every few minutes when I blew my nose.
Within a couple of hours, the wastepaper basket was full of tissues. I wriggled and wrestled with the quilt for a few minutes, trying to escape, and then grabbed the basket and headed into the kitchen, where I decanted my cold detritus into the larger bin. Whilst I was there, I flicked the kettle on and plopped a ginger and lemon teabag into a mug. As I waited for the appliance to boil, I poked around in the cupboards to see if I had any more medicine lurking. Nothing. There was a supermarket in the marina complex, but the thought of having to get dressed and head outside didn’t exactly fill me with joy right now. Just standing up to empty the bin and make a drink had me feeling as if I’d run the Brighton half marathon. Right now, attempting to go and get groceries on a busy Saturday would feel like doing a full one while dressed as a giant penguin. I decided I’d have this drink, try and get some sleep and then hopefully feel a bit better and not need any more medicine, or at least feel well enough to make the expedition for supplies. I grabbed the now empty bin and my drink and returned to the living room. Snuggling into the duvet, I peeked my already-sore-from-blowing nose over the top and half watched bland television for another hour before finally falling asleep.
The clock showed just gone five when I swam up from sleep to the sound of my doorbell chiming.
‘I’m coming!’ I yelled, as it rang again. I say yelled. All that came out was a squeaky little croak as if I’d just throttled an adolescent frog. I kicked at the duvet and broke free, then tripped on the corner of it as I made my escape. The thud I made hitting the floor clearly carried as the doorbell rang again, this time accompanied by a rapping on the door, and Charlie’s voice calling out.
‘Libby? Are you all right?’
Great. I really wasn’t in the mood to see anyone. I freely admitted that my normal, fairly perky, social skills plummeted when I was tired or ill.
‘I’m fine,’ I called back. Although what Charlie might or might not have heard was just a strangulated noise. I let out a big sigh and realised I was going to have to open the door, just in order to do sign language.
I pulled it open on the chain enough to peer through, but without letting any passing neighbours see me in my spotty dog pyjamas, no make-up and sporting a Rudolph-competition-contender nose. Charlie’s concerned face focused on mine through the small gap.
‘I heard a thump. Are you all right?’
‘Fine,’ I squeaked out. ‘Duvet. Tripped.’
We stood there for a moment, neither saying a word. Me because it was pretty impossible to get any to come out, and Charlie because, me having just broken up with his best friend, he probably wasn’t quite sure what to say. Which begged the question, why was he here? I shifted my weight and tilted my head a little in order to ask the question without having to strain my throat. He got the hint.
‘I wanted to see how you were. You didn’t reply to any of my texts and I tried calling but it went to voicemail. I was worried. Even more so when I heard that thump.’
‘Phone’s on flight mode. Sorry.’
Charlie winced at the rawness of my voice.
‘Can I come in?’
I shook my head.
‘Don’t want you catching anything. Not feeling sociable. But thank you.’ I gave him a look that I hoped conveyed more than I was able to rasp out.
The soft smile he gave me in return told me he understood my intentions.
‘I rarely feel sociable and you put up with me all the time. I probably owe you.’
I shook my head before resting it on the side of the door, partly just to keep myself upright.
‘Come on. I promise not to catch the cold. Scout’s honour!’ He did a little salute thing, holding up three fingers.
Keeping my head in position, I raised my eyebrows in question.
‘Yes, I was in the Scouts,’ Charlie replied, understanding, ‘Proud owner of the Queen’s Scout Award too, I’ll have you know.’
I pulled an ‘ooh, impressive’ face. I wasn’t entirely sure what a Queen’s Scout Award was but, as Charlie was the proud owner of one, it seemed right to be impressed.
‘Come on, let me in. I’m worried about you. You look terrible.’
I lifted my head up. This time my expression did not say impressed.
‘You know what I mean.’
‘I look a state. I don’t have any make-up on.’
Charlie did a little head-shake. ‘So?’
‘So,’ I croaked, ‘I just… don’t want you… anyone to see me not…’
He let out a sigh that had more than a hint of exasperation to it. ‘Libby. I don’t care that you haven’t got any make-up on—’
‘I do!’
‘Well, you shouldn’t!’
‘I don’t go anywhere without my make-up. It’s my…’
‘It’s your what?’
‘Armour.’
Charlie tilted his head. ‘Libs. It’s me. You’ll never need armour with me. Please, just let me in. From the little I can see, and what I can just about hear, you don’t seem well at all. I want to help.’
As I was about to reply, a neighbour who lived further down the hall, recently divorced and, let’s say, enjoying her new-found freedom, often quite loudly, sashayed past on five-inch platform-heeled sandals. She gave Charlie a slow look up and down as she passed. Her glance slid to me. One perfectly shaped and shaded eyebrow rose at the sight that greeted her – and, of course, that had greeted Charlie. I’d been in such a hurry to stop his banging on the door, it hadn’t occurred to me to give a cursory check in the mirror before opening the door. By the look on her face, I guessed it was worse than I thought.
‘I’m assuming this look isn’t going on the blog?’ She smiled and gave me a wink.
‘Not sure anyone is quite ready for this look just yet,’ I replied through an assortment of squeaks and croaks.
My neighbour winced at me. ‘You sound awful. Do you need anything?’
I smiled and shook my head, and mouthed thank you.
‘Let me know if you do.’
She turned her attention back to Charlie.
‘And if she doesn’t let you in, come two doors down. I’ll definitely not keep you standing at the door. In fact…’ she lowered a voice that was already a whole octave beneath mine ‘… standing at all might be off the agenda for the rest of the weekend.’ She flashed her eyes at him, a wide smile breaking out as his blush began to show.
She turned to me. ‘He blushes? How cute is that?’
I smiled and she began to move off, hips swaying, dress fabric clinging tight across her bum. As she walked, she tossed her hair back and called over her shoulder to Charlie, ‘Don’t forget, now. I’m just down the hallway.’
Charlie did a kind of nod, and half-smile. This seemed to amuse her even more and a throaty laugh travelled back towards us. Charlie looked back at me, some desperation now in his expression.
‘Please, for the love of God, let me in,’ he wh
ispered.
I wasn’t about to feed Charlie to the cougars so I heaved a sigh and stood back from the door, removing the chain and opening it wide enough for his bulk to pass through. Just as I began to close it, we heard a voice drift down the corridor.
‘Shame. You don’t know what you’re missing.’
Charlie took the door from me and closed it quickly. He stood with his back against it for a moment.
‘Thank you.’ The desperate tone had now been replaced with one of gratitude.
‘She’s actually very nice,’ I rasped out.
‘I’m sure. I’m just not certain I have the stamina apparently required.’
‘One way to find out.’
‘I’m pretty sure curiosity would definitely kill the cat in the search to answer that particular question.’
‘No adventure.’
‘I have plenty of adventure in my life, thank you. And I’d like to live to see more of it. Which, if I go two doors down, I don’t think will be the case.’
‘At least you’d go out with a bang.’
Charlie looked down at me, quirked an eyebrow and shook his head. His gaze dropped to my outfit. ‘Nice PJs.’
I saved my voice and went with the sophisticated reply of poking out my tongue.
He laughed and placed his hands on my shoulders. They didn’t exactly fit and his little fingers sort of rested on the top of my arm each side.
‘Get back in that duvet, you.’ Charlie turned me around and steered me towards the sofa, leaning in front of me, and whipping up the rogue corner that had been my undoing earlier, ensuring I couldn’t trip again. I flopped into the softness with little protest and he folded it back on top of me, then tucked it under so that I felt like the filling in a well-wrapped burrito. I wiggled and forced my arms to the gap at the top and popped them out.
‘Put your arms back in and keep warm,’ Charlie instructed the moment I’d done so.
I shook my head and then frowned. It felt as if my brain were loose in there.
‘Too hot.’
He gave me a look and then stepped past the coffee table, taking a seat on the edge of the sofa, in line with my hips. He laid a hand on my forehead before quickly removing it.
‘You’re boiling.’
I nodded, gently this time, keeping my brain in position.
‘Have you taken anything?’
‘This morning. Ran out.’
Charlie gave a nod. ‘Right, I’m going to nip across and get you some medicine. Is there anything else you need or want?’
I couldn’t have told you what was in my fridge or cupboards right that minute, and I cared even less. I gave the signal for no and smiled. He hesitated a moment and then disappeared into the kitchen, returning a few minutes later.
‘You’re out of bread and nearly out of milk. I’ll get you some. Have you eaten today?’
‘Not hungry.’
‘You have to eat. I’ll get you some soup.’
I pulled a face and hoped that he understood. He did.
‘You have to eat,’ he repeated. ‘Keep your strength up.’
I made a noise of disagreement and buried my face in the pillow, just as the landline began to ring. Groaning, I folded the pillow around my head. Charlie said something but I couldn’t hear. He pulled the pillow back for a moment.
‘I said, do you want me to get that?’
I made a noise, the interpretation of which could have been anything. Charlie took it as a yes.
‘Hello?’
I shuffled around in my cocoon so that I was facing up again. Charlie listened for a moment, then said his name and explained why he was answering my phone. That was to say he told the caller that I’d lost my voice. Not the fact that I couldn’t be arsed to answer it.
‘It’s your brother,’ he said, moving the speaker away from his mouth, when he noticed me watching him.
I gave a feeble wave. He told Matt I’d done so. I wasn’t sure what my brother’s reply was but it made Charlie laugh, agree, and glance in my direction. I frowned. He shook his head in a ‘don’t worry’ kind of way. I listened for a moment more but they’d started talking cars and I lost interest. A few minutes later, Charlie nudged me and made the motion of writing. I pointed towards the desk. He headed off and I heard him asking Matt to repeat something. A soft beep a few minutes later signalled that he’d hung up. He came back around to the sofa.
‘Your brother says hi. He’d been trying your phone too.’
‘They OK?’
‘Yes. They were just worried when they couldn’t get hold of you. He’s given me some tips on what to get to help with your cold.’
‘I’m fine,’ I said, feeling not very fine at all.
‘You’re not really, though, are you?’ Charlie stated. He fixed me with those eyes and I had the awful feeling that lying to him might genuinely cause my nose to grow.
I opted for a shrug instead.
Charlie crouched down next to the sofa.
‘I’m sorry about you and Alex.’
I let my gaze rise to meet his, then gave a resigned smile and eyebrow lift, the international expression for ‘what can you do?’.
‘Have you seen him?’ I croaked. Alex’s reaction last night when he found out Charlie had brought me home had surprised and confused me and I still wasn’t quite sure what to make of it.
‘Briefly,’ Charlie replied eventually as he fussed a little with the duvet, determinedly avoiding eye contact.
‘I never meant to make things uncomfortable. You are his friend, first and foremost.’
‘You need to stop talking and rest.’
I kept my eyes on him, waiting for him to meet them, knowing he would read the question there.
He did. ‘I dropped round on my way to the gym earlier.’
I tilted my head in further question.
Charlie looked everywhere but at me. ‘I’d better nip over and get this stuff for you,’ he said, standing.
‘She was there, wasn’t she?’
He looked down at me, his face a mixture of emotions.
‘Please don’t fall out with your best friend over this. It would make me feel far worse.’
He sat back down. ‘Alex and I have very different beliefs when it comes to relationships. It’s one of the reasons I wasn’t thrilled at him picking you up at Mum and Dad’s barbecue.’
‘Picking me up?’ I made to sit up but a large hand quickly came to rest gently on my shoulder.
‘Sorry, that came out wrong.’
My stomach twisted as I forced the second question out. ‘What were the other reasons?’
‘Huh?’
‘You said it was one of the reasons. What were the others?’
‘Oh!’ Charlie shook his head. ‘Nothing really. Just a turn of phrase. Now you really need to stop talking and get some more rest.’
I opened my mouth to argue.
‘Please?’ Charlie said quietly, meeting my eyes at last.
Taking a deep breath, I snuggled back down in the duvet, signalling my acquiescence and pulling my arms back in too. For all my protesting earlier, they now felt cold. In fact, all of me was feeling cold. I clenched my teeth together to stop the chattering becoming too obvious.
‘You’re shivering.’
I unclenched my jaw, letting my body do whatever it wanted.
Charlie stood, grabbing the quilt off the other sofa as he did so. He snuggled the duvet around me again and then laid the quilt on top.
‘Are you all right if I go and get this stuff? I could ask your neighbour to come and sit with you, if you like.’
My horrified look gave him an answer.
‘OK. Just stay there. I won’t be long. Can I take the keys, so that you don’t have to get up to answer the door?’
I nodded and met his eyes. He gave me one of those sympathetic looks and it was the worst thing he could have done. A sob broke through and I made a weird noise that ordinarily would have been crying but thanks to my cold sounded al
most inhuman.
Had I not had the cold, I probably would have gone round to Amy’s this morning, had a good old stomp about, bawled at breaking up with Alex and then stuffed unhealthy food all afternoon whilst we watched romantic movies and sobbed together some more. But feeling rotten had screwed up my normal procedure for dealing with such things. And now Charlie was on the receiving end, with an added side order of squeaky croaks and the ever-present danger of a loaded sneeze.
‘I’m sorry. Just feel a bit…’
‘Shh.’ Charlie perched on the sofa, brushed some wisps of hair away from my mouth and shovelled his big hands underneath me, duvet and all, pulling me up towards him until I was wrapped in a big, comforting cuddle. We stayed there for a while, Charlie freeing one hand occasionally in order to pass more tissue supplies and hold up the bin for me to lob spent ones into. Eventually, the in and out procedure became less and Charlie must have sensed that the tissues weren’t the only things spent.
I was exhausted. He gently laid my duvet sausage roll back down and I looked up at him.
‘You all right if I shoot up the road and get supplies now?’
I nodded.
He stood, then bent and squidged the duvet back in place around me.
‘Comfy?’
I nodded again. ‘Thank you.’
‘You’re welcome.’ He smiled down at me. ‘Text me if you think of anything else you need.’ Charlie moved my phone closer to the edge of the table so that I could reach it. ‘I won’t be long.’
I heard the door click behind him. After another humongous nose-blowing session, I snuggled down in the duvet and decided to close my eyes for a little while, just until Charlie got back.
30
When I woke up, the sky was streaked with red and gold, the TV was on low and Charlie was sitting at the end of the sofa, my feet – somewhere in the folds of the duvet – resting on his lap. He was chomping down cashew nuts and a glass of what looked to be beer rested on the coffee table in front of him. Sensing movement, he turned and noticed me awake.
‘Evening.’
When all that came out was a croak, I waved instead.
‘You were out cold when I got back. It’s probably the best thing for you, so I let you sleep. I got some medicine. You should take some now you’re awake. Do you want me to get it for you?’
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