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
She gave me an exaggerated comedy wink. ‘I can sort that out.’
‘I didn’t mean that kind of frustrated. I meant I hate being stuck here, unable to go outside.’
‘I know. Did your sense of humour get knocked out when you fell down those steps?’
‘Sorry.’
She kissed me. Her lips were cold. ‘It’s OK. Now, look, I brought you some presents and I’m going to cook you dinner.’
She gave me some books, magazines and The Sopranos box set because she’d been horrified to discover I’d never watched it. Then she set about making dinner.
‘What’s with the suitcase?’ I asked, watching her chop basil and tomatoes, spaghetti waiting in the pan.
She turned to me. ‘I thought I’d better come and stay with you for a bit, look after you.’
‘That’s really sweet,’ I said. ‘But I’m not sure I like being looked after. It makes me feel like you’re mothering me or something.’
She put the knife down and came over to me. ‘Don’t be daft. I’m not going to put on a nurse’s uniform and wipe your bum for you. But you’re going to go crazy stuck in here on your own, aren’t you? I come here nearly every night anyway, so I thought it would be easier if I left some stuff here. Then I won’t have to keep going back to my place every day.’
‘All right. Thank you. I’m sorry.’
She went back into the kitchenette.
‘Did you talk to Victor?’ she asked.
I recounted our conversation and she nodded. ‘That’s good. I know your leg hurts and you hate being stuck indoors. But you should try to enjoy it. Just chill out, rest, watch The Sopranos. I wish I could take some time off work but this project is at a critical stage, fucking pain in the arse that it is.’
She turned, pointing the tip of the knife in my direction.
‘Have I told you about that dick, Michael?’ She recounted an argument she’d had with one of the consultants at the hospital, jabbing the knife forward to emphasise the parts she was most annoyed about.
‘Shit, Charlie, you look like you want to stab him.’
She looked down at the knife and smiled. ‘Hmm. If I could get away with it I’d stick this in his heart and shove him in the incinerator.’
She turned back to the worktop.
I took a sip of wine. ‘I hope I never get on your bad side.’
She sliced a cucumber. ‘Don’t worry, handsome. You never could.’
