‘There’s only one bed!’ Bee sounds distraught.
I look at Arthur. ‘For all four of us?’
‘No,’ he starts. ‘There’s…’
‘It’s fine, babe. We’ll make it work.’ William is rubbing his hands up and down Bee’s arms. ‘I can sleep on the floor, if you’ll just give me one of the pillows.’
Bee’s hand comes up to rest on his chest. ‘No, we can’t do that. Think of your poor back.Youtake the bed.’
‘What kind of gentleman would I be if I allowed that?’ William scoffs.
Sheer confusion has trapped the words between my brain and my mouth.
‘Maybe…’ Bee trails off. ‘Maybe we can share?’ Whatever look she sees on William’s face makes her grin.
‘Yeah,’ he replies. His voice sounds husky and inappropriatefor a public setting. ‘We can put a wall of pillows between us.’
‘I promise not to ravish you,’ she says. Then they walk into the room and shut the door. I think they forgot we’re even here.
I turn to Arthur, whose pursed lips are the only thing holding back a cackle of laughter. ‘So, do you have, like, air mattresses or something? If I’d known, I’d have brought the one from our house. Those couches in the living room are only two seaters, there’s no way you’ll fit…’
He puts an arm around my shoulders and leads me all of three steps to the door next to the One Bed. It’s…another bedroom. With two single beds.
‘My dear Gertie,’ he says, ‘they just didn’t give me a chance to finish the tour.’ He places his bag on one bed and mine, which I didn’t realise he was holding, on the other. ‘I had planned to give you ladies the big bed to share, but clearly the lovebirds have other plans.’
I lean against the doorframe watching him place pillowcases over the pillows. ‘Overly generous of you as the host to take the single bed.’
‘My mother taught me how to be a good host.’
‘My mother only taught me how to overstay my welcome. I’m not sure she meant to, but I definitely learned it.’
‘You could never overstay your welcome here,’ he says.
But sincerity and wine fog do not mix: change of subject needed. ‘Side note, why are they so worried about there only being one bed? She stays at his place constantly.’
He considers for a moment. ‘Maybe they haven’t done the deed yet?’
‘Those two? Who were feeling each other up all through lunch?’
‘Good point. Perverse attempt at foreplay?’
‘I think that’s what the whole argument was about.’
‘Yeah. Roleplay kink?’
‘God, I hope not. I felt all right before you suggested that.’
He chuckles and starts back down the hall. ‘I don’t understand a bloody thing they do. I’ve stopped trying to figure it out. Come on. Let’s put together the charcuterie I brought while they…settle in.’ He raises his eyebrows suggestively, and I mime gagging. His expression becomes slightly panicked, so I guess I look more intoxicated than I feel.
I glance back as I walk past him. ‘A photogenic platter is the best way to lure Bee from their scene. Play your cards right, I’ll teach you how to make little roses out of prosciutto.’
‘Oooh, promise?’
They do eventually emerge as Arthur is putting the finishing touches to his crumpled-paper prosciutto, and the evening is easy, time passing through the slow emptying of my two expensive bottles. We sit on the deck out the back, facing an equally chaotic back shrubbery complete with a rusted-over bird bath or maybe a sundial, I can’t tell from this distance, in one thicket, a broken slide in another, a black and spent fire pit in the middle. Through the trees, I can see a hint of ocean. I can feel the salt in the air pricking my face.
Once the sun sets and the mosquitoes come out, we head inside to the retro table. When we run out of things to talk about, we call it and go to bed.
It feels a little bit like school camp when Arthur and I snuggle up in our single beds, facing each other with the blankets pulled up to our chins. If I’m being honest, I’m quite glad for the blankets, because when he walked into the room, freshly showered and clad only in his undies and an old, and very thin, T-shirt, it was all a bit overwhelming.