‘But we are talking about Albie now and none of this has got anything to do with me.’ Vic’s voice was raised.
‘So whatisgoing on then, lad?’ Kath spat.
‘Who says that we haven’t just fallen out of love?’ Albie shifted from foot to foot.
‘Because you’re Barry Sharpe’s son, that’s why. God, I need a drink!’ Kath suddenly exclaimed.
‘No, you don’t!’ Albie and Victoria shouted in unison, as there was a light knock at the door, followed by a ‘Hello’.
‘Who the hell is that now?’ Kath Sharpe grabbed the kettle off the side and started to fill it.
Joti appeared in the kitchen. ‘The door was open, so I hope you don’t mind.’
‘Sorry about all the shouting, love,’ Kath said, visibly attempting to calm down as she put teabags into mugs with a shaking hand. ‘Fancy a cuppa?’
‘What shouting?’ Joti convincingly lied. ‘And thanks, but no thanks. I’m on nights. I need to get a nap in this afternoon, or I’ll be a walking zombie. I did want to talk to you, though. I’m er… thinking of getting a lodger. Where do you think would be a good place to advertise?’
Luckily only Vic, and not her mother, saw Joti’s sneaky wink to a now-smirking Albie.
‘Maybe I can save you the trouble, Miss Adams,’ Albie flirted. ‘As it happens, I’m looking for a place myself.’
‘Oh. OK. Really? Erm… brilliant. Message me later. I’ll be up again around six. Bye for now.’ A pink-faced Joti let herself out.
‘Oh, so youdon’twant to live here now, then?’ Kath Sharpe snapped, once Joti was out of earshot.
‘Women!’ Albie exclaimed, heading out of the back door for a cigarette.
Kath shut the door behind him and breathed a sigh of relief. She had just sat down opposite Vic when the doorbell rang.
‘Jesus, it’s like bleeding Clapham Junction around here,’ Kath huffed.
Vic went to the door and, on seeing who it was, her mouth fell to the floor.
‘Nate! What are you doing here?’
Though comforted by his presence, Victoria thought it odd that Nate would reach for her hand as they entered the Long Walk, near the castle gates. They began to walk down the famous straight road, flanked on either side by grassy areas where families and tourists alike were chatting, playing games, sunbathing, or picnicking on the Queen’s famous carriageway.
‘Please pick up when I call you, or reply to my messages. You scare the life out of me, Vic. When I don’t hear back from you, I think – well, I think… maybe…’
Nate pushed back his messy fringe and looked at Vic through puppy-dog eyes. His uniform of distressed jeans and Oasis T-shirt were achingly familiar.
‘Nate, I’ve just been busy. Sorry. And I’m not just going to drop down dead. It’s fine. I’m being looked after, well and closely.’ Vic pulled her hand away. ‘I wish you’d bloody educate yourself.’
‘I didn’t mean that. I’m just worried about you in general. Are you feeling all right?’
‘Apart from being a complete mental wreck, then yes. I am starting to get my head around it, as I have to. Because whatever is going on inside this body of mine, I am still Victoria Sharpe.’
‘The one and only.’ Nate smiled. ‘I’m so sorry I left you like I did.’ He sounded sincere.
‘Yes, well… You did what you felt was right for you and I’m sorry, too, that I put you in a position where you could have been in the same situation as me.’
‘You didn’t know, Vic.’
‘But I still slept with someone else, Nate, and that wasn’t my finest hour.’
‘We both obviously had shit to sort out, which we didn’t face.’ Nate pulled a can of lager out of his rucksack. ‘Do you want one?’
‘No, thanks.’ Vic sighed. ‘Why are you down here anyway? Don’t tell me you’ve left the job already. You said it was good in one of your texts.’
