That’s it. That’s too much. Who the hell does he think he is? Maybe it’s not only his dog who has issues. I throw open the doors, and stride towards them. The place is big inside, the walls decorated with old fishing nets and wooden oars, a table laid out with stacks of booze. A guy is standing to one side, drinking from an actual Viking-style horn, and a small group of women are dancing a jig, arms twined together. This place is crazy.
Kate spots me making my way over, and her eyes go wide. She staggers in my direction, cheeks flushed, smile on full.
‘Brody!’ she announces. ‘My hero! I seem to have run out of wine, I don’t know what happened…’
‘You necked it all,’ Xander says, an indulgent grin on his smug and yeah, undeniably handsome face. ‘Just before you begged us to get the karaoke machine on.’
‘Oh yes, now I remember!’ she says, giggling, her hand over her mouth. ‘I sang so loud, Brody! I sang like nobody was watching!’
Except they were, I think. They were all watching, because why the hell wouldn’t they? And watching is one step away from stalking.
‘You were great,’ I say, taking hold of her. ‘Really great. But I bet you’re tired now. Let’s go back.’ I hate to be the fun police, but sometimes that’s what’s needed to keep somebody safe.
She frowns, and stamps her foot like a teenager. ‘That’s no fun! I want to stay here! I want to sing again – Meatloaf! I want to sing Meatloaf! And I want another drink!’
Xander kicks himself up a notch in my eyes as he shakes his head, giving me a glance as we share a moment of understanding that Kate should probably call it a night. ‘There’ll be other nights, Kate, and anyway, we’ll be finishing up soon.’
That, I can tell from the amount of alcohol flowing, is a downright lie, but it’s one I’m grateful for. I acknowledge it with a nod.
‘Best go and get some sleep,’ he adds, smoothing her hair down from her face. Okay. Now I want to punch him in the gut again. ‘We’re here every week, and I’ll make sure we’ve got some Meatloaf ready for you next time, okay?’
‘Oh. Okay. I suppose I am tired,’ she replies, yawning. ‘It’s been a long day. And anyway, there’s Guinness back home…’
‘Home’. She’s already referring to the cottage as home. Somebody passes her her shoes, and she takes maybe ten minutes getting them on. Man, she is a mess, and she’s going tofeel like crap in the morning. I’ll make sure she has some water, and maybe hunt out some Advil for her head.
I slip her slightly shabby coat over her shoulders and hold out my hand. She takes it, waving goodbye to her new friends as we leave. The night air is cool, and she shivers slightly. ‘Isn’t it beautiful?’ she asks, looking down at the bay. The stars have come out, and they’re shining on the water, reflecting on the ripple of the waves. I nod. No way to argue with that statement.
I lead her down the cobbles towards the cottage, and she talks nonsense at me, tripping and stumbling and laughing at everything. She’s especially amused by a plant pot in the shape of a frog.
We eventually reach the steep path up to the cottage, and it takes us a few attempts to get to the door. This place must be like a ski slope in winter.
Before we go in, she leans against me, then wraps her arms around my neck. She gazes up at me, focusing on my eyes, her body pressed against mine in a way that sets off all kinds of alarm bells.
‘Xander’s nice isn’t he?’ she asks, smiling.
‘Yeah. He’s a prince.’
‘He’s not as nice as you though. Or as hot, really. He’s pretty, you’re… oh, what’s the word? My gran used it about Charles Bronson… rugged! Yes, you’re rugged.’
‘Uh, thanks,’ I answer, as her fingers twine into my hair. She’s so close I can see the tiny flecks of gold in her hazel eyes. I need to get this woman into bed. Alone.
‘Did you know,’ she asks slowly, stroking the back of my neck, ‘that I haven’t had sex in over two years?’
I did not know that, and I really didn’t want to. My body is starting to respond to her in a way that doesn’t make me feel good about myself. I am not that man. I have never been that man, and whatever my stupid body thinks, I’m not going to takeadvantage of her. I remove her hands, and lean her against the wall while I get the door open. It takes way too many attempts, there’s definitely something wrong with it. Inside we go, her looking at me in a way that suggests all kinds of trouble.
I persuade her to drink some water, and take off her shoes and the coat. She briefly objects, looking for the Guinness, but I manage to guide her up the stairs. I wait outside the bathroom while she does her business, and when she emerges her breath is minty fresh. ‘I brushed my teeth,’ she announces, sounding immensely proud of herself.
I help her through into her room, and close the drapes against the moonlight. It’s going to be one heck of a beautiful view out there in the morning, but I’m guessing she won’t be in any state to appreciate it. I pull back the covers, and she nestles, fully clothed, beneath them. I could help her undress, but it would be over-stepping – as well as disturbing. I’m already having a self-worth problem, and I won’t make it worse. I draw the duvet up to her chin, tucking her in. I’ll bring the water and the pills up later, leave them for her.
‘Thank you,’ she says, snuggling down into the warmth, her dark hair spread over the pillow like an explosion of black velvet. ‘You’re my guardian angel. Grumpier than I thought an angel would be, but still…’
I head to the door. I need to get away from her and dip my head in a bucket of ice. Maybe some night-swimming would do the trick.
‘Brody,’ she calls, as I’m about to switch off the lights. ‘Will you stay?’
I glance back, and the look on her face breaks my heart. I can practically feel her need, her loneliness. I feel it, and I understand it – because I have my own. What the hell. It’s not like I have anywhere else I have to be.
‘Yeah,’ I say quietly. ‘I’ll stay.’
