‘I’m not sharing a bed with him,’ I said, pointing at the world’s most smug man.
‘Noone’s asking you to share the bed,’ Dad replied, leading us back through the cottage and pointing at the two pieces of furniture, on opposite sides of the small living room. ‘The sofa pulls out. Joe can sleep on that.’
‘You can’t seriously expect me to share a bedroom with a man I don’t know,’ I returned, furious with how flustered I sounded.
‘But you do know him,’ Dad said. ‘It’s Joseph.’
‘Just because I know who he is doesn’t mean I want to share a room with him!’
It was a perfectly rational argument, no one should have to share a sleeping space with someone if they didn’t want to, and yet, my usual logic and composure had abandoned me completely. It was very obvious fromthe looks on my dad and Gregory’s faces my tone had hit the level of shrill where men stop listening altogether, no matter how valid any woman’s argument.
‘Soph, there’s nowhere else for him to sleep.’ Dad lowered his voice, speaking slowly as though I was the one who didn’t understand. ‘What do you want him to do, kip on the floor?’
‘Yes?’ I threw up my hands in despair, why was he not getting this?
‘I could always sleep in the car,’ Joe offered, mirroring my body language as though he was truly searching for a viable compromise. ‘Unless there’s a hotel nearby?’
‘Nonsense.’ Dad clasped his hands to his chest, the thought of sending Joe off to the Travelodge an arrow through his heart. ‘They’re all full last we checked and there are two perfectly good beds in this room.’
‘Sofa bed is more than good enough for me.’ Joe dropped the more battered-looking overnight bag on the floor to stake his claim. ‘I insist the lady takes the bed. Even if I’m the guest and it would really be more polite to let me have it but still, beggars can’t be choosers.’
‘Beggars can still get a kick in the nuts,’ I replied as he made himself at home. ‘Why can’t he sleep in the house?’
‘Because the sofa in the house doesn’t pull out into a bed and we’ve filled all the other bedrooms. Come on, Soph, it’s only Joseph. You’ve known him since you were kids.’
‘You know what the problem is,’ Gregory said with a snicker. ‘Your girl’s worried she won’t be able to keep her hands off him.’
It was official. They were the two most awful menon the face of the planet. Once again, I’d fallen into Joe’s trap, I’d let him get to me and he knew it.
‘Look, if Sophie’sthatagainst it—’ Joe started but I cut him off before he could make another asinine suggestion.
‘Sophie is that against it because Sophie doesn’t like you,’ I confirmed, whirling around to jab him in the chest with a very pointy finger. ‘If you absolutely, positively must sleep on the sofa bed, knock yourself out. Just don’t talk to me, don’t look at me and don’t be surprised if you find yourself accidentally smothered by a pillow in the middle of the night.’
‘I think we all need a cup of tea,’ Dad said, walking very quickly towards the front door before I could change my mind again. ‘Joseph and Gregory have had a long drive, and Sophie, I’m sure you want to get your things from the house and, I don’t know, get dressed?’
‘Maybe a Baileys for Sophie,’ Joe suggested before lowering his voice and leaning in so only I could hear. ‘But you should keep the PJs on, they really are sexy.’
Slapping each other on the back as they went, the three men strolled out the front door laughing, leaving me all alone in the cottage, marvelling at how quickly a dream could turn into a nightmare.
‘They really couldn’t find it? No one handed it in, not even the bag?’
William shook his head, watching on while I unpacked my things in the cottage. I’d chucked everything back in my suitcase and bolted down the garden as fast as humanly possible to stake my claim on the bed before Joe could come up with any fun new schemes to ruin my weekend.
‘No one’s handed anything in,’ he replied, giving his beard a scratch. ‘Man at the depot said the most likely scenario is someone found it, nicked the laptop and chucked the rest in the bin. There’s no reason for you to panic.’
‘There isn’t? Gosh, thanks for letting me know, I was just about to start but now I won’t.’
‘You sound exactly like Mum when you attempt sarcasm,’ William said as I lined up my skincare products on the bedside table with aggressive precision. ‘And that’s not a compliment.’
‘You don’t understand how bad it is,’ I replied with a whine. ‘That draft is a mess. If anyone reads it—’
‘If anyone reads it and knows what it is, they’ll think they’ve won the lottery,’ he finished for me. ‘Authors always think their first draft is a crime against god and man and nine times out of ten that’s not true.’
‘That might be the biggest lie you’ve ever told.’
‘Seven times out of ten,’ he amended.
‘William.’
