“Sorry, I’m just making a coffee.” It’s the first thing that comes to my mind.
“Why can’t you leave us alone?” she fumes.
“Nora, stop!” Llewellyn snaps at her.
“Why doesn’t she get a life instead of always following us everywhere?”
Always? Following her? Everywhere? Now she’s put my back up. Squaring my shoulders, I move over to the counter and start filling the kettle. In truth, I’m stuck between a rock and a very difficult awkward place. If I go outside, I’ll have to see Osian.
Llewellyn opens the fridge, finds a carton of milk and brings it to me.
“Whose side are you on?” Nora glares at him.
“Evie lives here. She has every right to be in the kitchen.”
“So do we. We live here too.” She moves towards him.
He moves, putting the table between them, and opens the cutlery drawer to give me a spoon as he answers her: “We can’t keep going over this.”
He too seems to be banging around the kitchen looking through the cupboards, pretending to be busy, while Nora follows him around.
“Can you give me the keys? I’m tired. I want to go upstairs.”
“You don’t live here. Remember when you flung your keys at me on your way out?”
“It was a fight. We always fight. You were busy tossing my clothes into my suitcase.”
“You shouldn’t have come back.”
“Because you’re my boyfr—”
“I’ll tell you why you’re back.” Llewellyn stops circling the table and actually faces her, expression furious. “Don’t pretend you’re here for me. Whoever it was you were after didn’t work out so I’m your safety net. A stepping stone to the next man. Maybe Osian. He’s single. You’re single, so what’s stopping you? Go find him.”
By now, even I can’t stay and I quickly take the coffee I never needed and walk out of the kitchen.
“Finally!” Nora flings the words after me.
I don’t care; there are worse things on my mind. Like how to avoid Osian, who’s sitting on the stairs waiting for me. There’s another way into the centre of the house, of course: up the main curved staircase from the ballroom and finally doubling back into the west wing. I manage to slip into my apartment without seeing him.
Sorry, Osian, please forgive me.But this is too soon. You must allow me time to get my feelings in order. I’m not asking for years, like the last time after our non-date at school. But give me a little more than three days.
Chapter Thirty-one
After all that, it’s no surprise that I have a terrible night’s sleep. I must have woken up five times, irrationally aware of every sound in the night. Every sound that might be coming from next door.
Knowing Llewellyn didn’t want Nora in his apartment, she would have thrown herself at Osian’s mercy. Why not? Now she’s single, Nora is the perfect one-night stand.
It doesn’t help to tell myself that if it’s not her, it’ll be some other woman sooner or later.
This is why I needed time to get my emotions in order; a good night’s sleep would help. But by 5:10 I’m still a mess of anxiety and give up on sleep. I have a fast shower and dress in clean dungarees – turquoise this time.
My good intentions, like poor batteries, run out by 5:30. The café won’t be open yet so I make coffee here and can’t help opening the French windows and going out on the balcony. It’s empty. The early sun, barely above the horizon, bathes the wall, floors and the air itself in pale golden light.
A moment later, Osian’s door opens and he comes out on the balcony, hastily pulling on a tee-shirt over some kind ofyoga bottoms. It’s the way a man who sleeps naked would need to pull on pyjamas before answering the door. Except I haven’t knocked, so he must have heard me and hurried out. His hair is ruffled, and God, it looks even better like that. Even the unshaven jaw.
Stop. Stop. Stop right now.
“You’re early.” He pads, barefoot, towards the table.
