‘Because she’s a nice girl, Nathan, and she loves you. Not that you deserve it.’

He laughed. They both knew she would pay for that slur. ‘What did she tell you?’ he asked her, his tone serious again.

‘Nothing that I don’t already know.’

He didn’t respond. He made himself scarce and took his drink upstairs to the flat. It was only a short while later when Grace followed him up there.

‘Has everyone gone?’ he asked her.

She looked at him. Her jaw set defiantly. ‘Yes, everyone’s gone home.’

‘Good.’ He smiled and she knew she wouldn’t be going home any time soon.

Chapter Seventy-Four

Nathan’s body was drenched with sweat. The sheets stuck to his skin. He was breathless and his whole body shook. He heard screaming, and he wasn’t sure if it was real or from his dream.

‘Nathan, are you okay?’ Grace asked him.

‘No.’ His voice was small and quiet in the darkness of the room. ‘I had a nightmare. I haven’t had one for ages.’

Lying beside her, he felt calmer just being near her. He placed his head on her chest and she stroked his hair, curling the strands around her forefinger. Her heartbeat thumped against his ear and its constant rhythm soothed him.

The ghosts began to fade into the shadows. He fell asleep eventually, with her arms wrapped around him.

Grace knew he wasn’t talking about some regular bad dream, but one where he relived the horrors of his childhood. She remembered how they used to affect him. How he’d wake screaming and drenched in sweat.

It was then that she realized that he needed her to allow him to be there, that scared little boy inside needed to know that someone wanted him; to know that someone loved him.

And as she looked at him, she could still see that frightened little boy.

He lay his head on her stomach and she absent-mindedly stroked his hair, which was still damp with sweat. Looking down at his head, she could see his large frame, still trembling slightly, and wondered at the man who had brought her so much joy and so much heartache. The man who claimed to love her, yet most of the time, made her existence a living hell.

It could almost have been twenty years earlier – the two of them lying together like that. She remembered how often he would wake screaming, twisted in the covers, his face contorted in agony as his dream slipped away from him. Sometimes he’d make love to her, trying to erase the awful memories. Most times, he’d just lie with her, as he was now; seeking comfort; needing to feel loved. She remembered how much she’d wanted to take his pain away. How once she would have done anything to make him feel loved.