‘Yes, of course. Come in, come in.’ From his even tone, I assume it’s too dark for him to have had a good look at Damian’sfriends.
But at least he said ‘come in’! That makes things easier.
We all shuffle past into a grey slate tiled foyer, where the light is brighter, and I risk a peek at Tim standing aside to let us in.
Shit, he’s still good-looking. Older, of course. But he hasall his hair and a beard too, salt-and-pepper coloured. And he’s in great shape. His arms are brawny, and his khaki long-sleeved T-shirt is tight across his chest. Camel corduroy trousers cover muscular thighs. He looks like a mountain man. He must chop wood or go for long country walks or something.
‘So what brings you ...’ he starts saying, then catches sight of Floss. His eyes widen, then drop to her and Damian’s clasped hands.
‘You may have met my girlfriend, Floss, before,’ says Damian calmly. ‘And her flatmates.’
‘Hi, Tim,’ says Floss casually, and Hester nods at him.
It’s time I made an appearance.Now or never,I think.
Popping out from behind her, I do jazz hands. ‘Surprise!’
It’s meant to be funny, but the look of shock on Tim’s face and the way he staggers back when he sees me suggest that it doesn’t land too well.
‘Sadie. What the ...’ he gasps, pressing a hand to his chest.
Yikes, I hope he’s not going to have a heart attack,I think to the others.Quick, someone relax him.
I could do it, but it feels too intimate to be pacifying my ex-boyfriend.
On it,says Floss,since he’s kind of my uncle now too.
Floss works her soothing magic, and Tim’s facial musclesslacken into a drowsy smile.
***
‘Your house is incredible,’ I say, gazing at the soaring vaulted ceiling, chunky grey stone fireplace, and polished concrete floors. The lounge is austere but softened by faux fur animal rugs, various artworks on the walls, and a fawn velvet couch, which I’m now sitting on with Tim.
‘Did you design it yourself?’
‘Thank you. Yes, with a little help from one of my architect friends.’
Tim takes a sip of chamomile tea and settles back beside me. I have a cup steaming on the glass coffee table too, and I’ve taken a couple of polite sips.
The others have vanished to their guest rooms, with the excuse of ‘freshening up’ before dinner, leaving us alone. Tim mentioned that he’d throw something together in a bit. I know he and Damian need to eat, but I’m not quite sure how the rest of us are going to get around that aspect. I had a private conversation with Hester while Tim was making the tea.
Me:What are we going to do about dinner?
Hester:We’ll have to pick at it. It’s either that or go out hunting tonight for an animal. We should probably keepour blood bags for emergency backup in case we need it. They should be OK in the car boot.
Me:Good idea. Hopefully, whatever Tim cooks, it’s meat-based. If it’s tofu, I’m not touching it.
Hester:Me neither!
Knowing Floss and Damian, they’ll probably have one of their special ‘naps’, and she’ll feed from him. It makes me crave Elliott just thinking about it. I miss his blood, his scent. Him. But I can’t start falling apart now. I’ve still got to endure another hypnosis session, and I need to stay strong and positive so we can find him.
‘It’s really great to see you,’ says Tim as I drift off, staring into the insipid yellow tea, thinking about Elliott, and hoping wherever he is, someone’s looking after him.
‘Huh? Oh, you too.’ I run a critical eye over him again, noting the way his bicep flexes as he drinks his tea. ‘Don’t take this the wrong way, but you look great for your age.’
He huffs a laugh. ‘I have a home gym. Keeps me out of trouble.’
‘So you work in ...?’
