‘God, are you sure you wouldn’t rather forget the whole thing?’
‘Of course I’d rather forget the whole thing,’ snapped Patrick, ‘but that’s not an option.’
‘Well, everyone has their cross to bear.’
‘Really? What’s yours?’
‘You,’ laughed Debbie.
‘Well, be careful or somebody might steal it from you.’
‘They’ll have to fight for it,’ said Debbie affectionately.
‘Sweet,’ cooed Patrick, wedging the phone between his shoulder and his ear and sitting on the edge of the bed.
‘Oh, darling, why do we always argue?’ asked Debbie.
‘Because we’re so in love,’ said Patrick haphazardly, as he opened the packet of heroin over the bedside table. He dipped his little finger in the powder, put it to one of his nostrils and inhaled quietly.
‘That would seem a strange explanation from anybody else.’
‘Well, I hope you’re not getting it from anybody else,’ said Patrick babyishly, dipping and sniffing several more times.
‘Nobody else would dare give it, if they behaved like you,’ laughed Debbie.
‘It’s just that I need you so much,’ whispered Patrick, reclining again on the pillows. ‘It’s frightening if you’re addicted to independence like I am.’
‘Oh, that’s what you’re addicted to, is it?’
‘Yes. All the other things are illusions.’
‘Am I an illusion?’
‘No! That’s why we argue so much. Do you see?’ It sounded good to him.
‘Because I’m a real obstacle to your independence?’
‘To my foolish and misguided desire for independence,’ Patrick corrected her gallantly.
‘Well, you certainly know how to pay a girl a compliment,’ laughed Debbie.
‘I wish you were here,’ croaked Patrick, dabbing his finger in the white powder again.
‘So do I, you must be having a horrible time. Why don’t you go and see Marianne? She’ll look after you.’
‘What a good idea. I’ll give her a ring later on.’
‘I’d better go now,’ sighed Debbie. ‘I’ve got to be interviewed by some silly magazine.’
‘What for?’
‘Oh, about people who go to lots of parties. I don’t know why I agreed to it.’
‘Because you’re so kind and helpful,’ said Patrick.
‘Mm . . . I’ll call you later. I think you’re being very brave and I love you.’
‘I love you too.’
‘Bye, darling.’
‘Bye now.’
Patrick hung up the phone and glanced at the clock. Six thirty-five. He ordered Canadian bacon, fried eggs, toast, porridge, stewed fruit, orange juice, coffee, and tea.
‘Is that breakfast for two?’ asked the cheerful sounding woman taking the order.
‘No, just for one.’
‘Wooh, you’re sure having a hearty breakfast, honey,’ she giggled.
‘It’s the best way to start the day, don’t you find?’
‘Sure is!’ she agreed.