“I did.”

“Yes, that’s what confused me, Misha. Because the last flatmate you had, you moaned when he put a picture up on the lounge wall. Not shelves that contained twenty tons of books.”

He shrugs. “That was him. This is you. You’re a special case.”

I narrow my eyes. “Did you mean that to sound like I’m a nut job?”

Misha laughs. “No, it was completely fortuitous.”

“Hmm,” I say dubiously.

“Charlie, you’ve only been here for forty-eight hours, and we already have a new sofa. Why would bookcases come as a surprise to me?”

“You have a new sofa?” Aidan says. “Well, that’s good news. Last time I sat on that steel and leather contraption I lost all feeling in my legs.”

“That was a very expensive piece of designer furniture,” Misha says in a resigned tone of voice.

Aidan laughs. “They totally saw you coming.”

“That’s great,” my dad says, clapping his hands. “Let’s have some tea.” He pauses. “Oh, does Misha’s kitchen now have tea?” he whispers to me.

“Yes, Misha’s kitchen does have tea. I do have food and stuff in there, you know,” Misha says crossly.

“Only because we went to Sainsbury’s last night and did a food shop after buying the sofa,” I say.

Aidan laughs. “I can actually see your coolness vanishing right in front of me, Misha. If I put out my hands, I could almost touch it as it sails out of the door.”

Misha shakes his head.

My dad nudges me. “Go and get dressed while I make the tea,” he instructs me, and I skedaddle to do as I’m told.

Misha

After watching Charlie head down the corridor, I turn to the two men behind me. Charlie’s dad gestures towards the kitchen, and I follow them. Aidan immediately bustles around making tea and Sam settles down on a chair. I eye them both affectionately. They’ve been so good to my family and me over the years, and I love them like they’re my own kin, but it can’t be denied that they’re both lookers.

Charlie gets his looks from his dad, as his mum is slender and red-haired. Sam is stunning. I’ve seen pictures of when he and Aidan got together, and he glowed in them. All blond hair and long legs and a big smile. Even now in his fifties, although the youthful glow has gone, he’s very handsome. His hair is greyer and there are wrinkles around his eyes, but he’s still fit and charismatic with a wide smile. However, at the moment that smile is missing in action.

“Charlie looks terrible,” he whispers.

I sigh, feeling all the worry that had lifted briefly settle in my stomach again. “I know. He’s getting thinner, and he looks like he hasn’t slept for years.”

“Has he?”

I shrug. “He fell asleep on the sofa last night halfway through a TV programme. Sleep’s not the problem. It’s the seizures.”