Right on time, at eight, Rachel walks in and hangs up her thick coat, scarf and hat on the pegs by the door. Stephen fills her glass with wine and puts it on the kitchen worktop.
‘Something smells good,’ she says as she kisses him hello. ‘Good day? Did you get any further with your research?’
Stephen shakes his head. ‘Not really, no.’
‘No creepy creatures lurking about then?’
Stephen allows his mind a few moments to understand her quip. ‘No,’ he says.
Rachel chuckles as she picks up her wine glass. ‘That’s a relief.’
Stephen flips the fish using the tongs in the frying pan. The aroma wafts into the air and the oil sizzles in the pan. ‘Indeed.’
‘Although, I bet you’re wishing there was because you need a new story. Am I right?’
‘You are. You know me so well.’
‘And yet there’s one thing I can’t work out.’
‘Oh?’
‘Anything you want to tell me?’
Stephen puts down the tongs. This is one of those times he wishes his brain worked the same way as other peoples’. She clearly wants him to tell her something specific, but he has no idea what. It could be any number of things.
‘You look very lovely today,’ he says instead.
Rachel’s expression doesn’t change. Clearly, it isn’t that. Her forehead furrows and the grip on her wine glass seems a little too tight. He’s never been good at reading other people’s emotions, but she certainly isn't happy.
Rachel takes a sip of wine. ‘Don’t try and avoid the subject. Why do you keep changing your pillowcase every morning?’
Okay, he certainly isn’t expectingthatquestion. He thought he’d been doing a good job of hiding it. Plus, it’s noteverymorning. He hasn’t had an overnight nosebleed for several days now, so why is she bringing it up today?
Rachel sips more wine, followed by some strong eye contact.
Stephen avoids her gaze. Eye contact is another of those normal human actions he finds difficult. ‘Ah, yes, I can see why you’re confused.’
Rachel sighs. ‘Yes, confused is right, Stephen.’
‘I’ve had a few nosebleeds. That’s all.’
‘When did they start?’
Stephen stares. He opens his mouth to answer, but the words get stuck somewhere along the way between his brain and his mouth. His brain can’t quite connect the dots in time, but eventually, he can speak, albeit at a slower pace than usual. ‘I’m not sure. Maybe … six months ago.’
‘Six months!’ Rachel takes a breath. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’
Stephen turns off the hob, allowing the salmon to sizzle and rest. He isn't prepared for this moment. In fact, he’s done everything he can think of to avoid it, yet, despite havinga higher-than-average IQ, he’s failed to remember Rachel is a very intelligent woman.
‘I’m sorry,’ he says. ‘But I didn’t see the point in concerning you with it at the start. It happened so randomly. There was no discernible pattern to them.’
‘And what’s your excuse now? I’ve been hanging up pillowcases to dry every other day. You’ve been washing them without mentioning it, which means you’re trying to hide it from me on purpose. I am your girlfriend. You don’t think I deserve to know if my boyfriend is unwell?’
Stephen’s head snaps up from staring at the countertop. ‘I’m not unwell. Do I look unwell?’
‘That’s not the point, Stephen!’
‘It doesn’t concern you, that’s all.’
