I look at him, frowning, while he moves
through the kitchen. He brings me a hot cup of tea
with three chocolate cookies bought yesterday at
Tesco.I look at the cup and then at the cookies
while I feel a wave of nausea pushing itself
upwards. I cover my mouth with my hands and run
to the bathroom where I arrive just in time to get
on my knees. I puke out everything, including my
soul, while my retching mixes with my sobbing.
Patrick slowly approaches with a towel; he gets
it wet under the tap and gets down on his knees
beside me, wetting my forehead. The relief is
instantaneous. I close my eyes and fall backwards,
sitting on the floor and resting against his chest.
“Does that asshole know?” he asks me directly.
“What? How did you—”
“I’m the first of six kids, Erin. I learned how to
tell the signs really quickly.”
“You’ve worked all that out from a bit of
nausea?” I ask with a shrill voice.
“No, I’ve picked up on your secret by seeing the
terror in your eyes.”
I turn slowly to look at him while my eyes fill
with tears. I shake my head and I cover my face
with my hands so I don’t have to see his
expression, which would tell me that he thinks I
am stupid and foolish.
Patrick lets the towel drop to the ground. Then
he grabs my shoulders and he lets me rest against
his shoulders. I let my head fall back and permit
