Chapters (50)
- Title Page
- Copyright Page
- Dedication Page
- Contents
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Ninteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-one
- Twenty-two
- Twenty-three
- Twenty-four
- Twenty-five
- Twenty-six
- Twenty-seven
- Twenty-eight
- Twenty-nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-one
- Thirty-two
- Thirty-three
- Thirty-four
- Thirty-five
- Thirty-six
- Thirty-seven
- Thirty-eight
- Thirty-nine
- Forty
- Forty-one
- Forty-two
- Epilogue
- Letter From the Author
- Acknowledgements
- About the Author
‘I’ll sort the flat out while you’re away,’ I said. ‘Make room for your stuff.’
She gave me her sweetest smile. ‘I can’t wait. But you don’t have to. I don’t have much stuff. A lot of it is here already.’
As she ate her breakfast, I told her about my visit to Victor’s office and about Karen, which made her gasp. I told her about the old man, too, but left out the part about the dark spirit. I would tell her another time, when I was able to turn it into a joke. I had thought I’d be able to do that already, but as I opened my mouth to talk about it I went cold and the joke died in my throat.
‘Oh, how did the session go with the therapist?’ I asked. The first one had been the evening before.
‘It was fine.’ She paused. ‘I don’t really want to talk about it. It’s private. But I think it’s going to help. Actually, I think it’s helping already. Like, last night . . . I didn’t accuse you of being with another woman, did I?’
‘No.’
She was quiet for a moment. ‘You weren’t, were you?’
‘Of course—’
‘I’m joking, Andrew. And by the way, I got your Facebook friend request.’
‘I was going to ask you about that.’
‘I’m really sorry. It’s just that I knew that you would want us to be friends on there if you knew I had an account, but I think it’s silly. I mean, why do we have to communicate online when we can do it in the flesh? I know couples who talk to each other more on Facebook than they do verbally. It’s stupid. I don’t want us to be like that. I want our relationship to be special. Does that make sense?’
‘I think so. Charlie . . .’
‘Yes?’
‘You haven’t ever . . . been on my Facebook account on my computer . . .’
She interrupted. ‘No, of course not. What are you talking about?’
‘Nothing. Just being an idiot.’
The women who unfriended me on Facebook must have done it themselves. Maybe they were tired of reading about my new girlfriend and my leg injury. I had been pretty boring on there recently, I had to admit.
‘I’m going to miss you,’ I said a bit later, as she stood in the doorway with her little suitcase.
We hugged and kissed. I had tears in my eyes.
‘It’s only a few days, silly,’ she said.
‘I know.’
‘And when I get back—’
‘We’ll be living together.’
She kissed me and ran her hand over my chest. ‘How am I going to get through four days without your body?’
‘I don’t want you to go, Charlie.’