Ihaveto turn over. And, actually, if Flavia’s asleep now, it won’t disturb her, and if she isn’t it will giveherthe opportunity to do some guilt-free rustling.
I adjust my pillow and the duvet and settle into my favourite sleep position (still fully awake).
There is now quite a lot of rustling from Flavia’s direction.
Neither of us speaks, though.
I begin to run through in my head all the work I need to do after the new year, which does not make me sleepy but does make me a little tense, and then I’m disturbed by a squeak from Flavia’s direction.
‘What?’ I leap out of bed, stub my toe on something, swear, and then hop over in her direction.
‘There’s something just outside,’ she screeches.
I state the obvious. ‘Probably an animal.’
‘What if it gets in?’
‘Then it will probably eat us,’ I quip (unfunnily, I realise).
‘Okay, no, this is terrible. We need the lights.’ I hear some flailing and then she stumbles off the sofa and we bump into each other in the middle of the room.
She’s warm, she’s soft, she’s gorgeous (I know that without looking), and she’s… in my arms right now.
I let go of her really fast and we both take a step and bump into each other again.
‘Okay,’ I say, trying to breathe normally. There is no good reasonnotto be breathing normally; what is wrong with me? ‘There’s a light switch at the side of the bed. You stay here and I’ll find it.’ I inch back towards the bed – it’ssodark without any artificial light anywhere and I do not want to stub my toe again – and eventually after what seems like minutes – reach the side and feel around until my fingers find the switch.
I flip it on and suddenly the room’s bathed in light.
Flavia’s standing blinking in the middle of the room in her pyjamas, arms folded across her chest, her hair a mad riot of curls.
I opt to state some boring common sense, to take my mind off how much I want to pull her into my arms. ‘We’re in a lodge in the middle of a game reserve. Of course large animals prowl around outside sometimes. But we’re safe. Obviously. It’s very sturdily built.’ I gesture around the room, like we can tell by looking at it whether it could withstand a sustained attack. Common sense does dictate that it could, though.
‘You’re a very common-sensical person.’ Flavia sounds a little disapproving.
‘Stands me in good stead in fake-stressful situations,’ I point out.
She nods and squeezes her arms even more tightly around her chest. ‘I suppose.’
‘You know I don’t think this sleeping arrangement is totally working for either of us,’ I say. ‘As in I have not had a wink of sleep and I suspect you might not have done either, and we have to get up very early. What about if webothtake the bed?’
‘Er what?’ Flavia’s screeching a lot tonight.
‘Sorry, I didn’t finish my sentence. It’s a very big bed. If we put some sofa cushions down the middle we’ll still have lots of space each, but there’ll be no danger of…’
‘Got it.’ Flavia nods. ‘What you say does make sense.’ She suddenly cracks an enormous yawn. ‘Ireallywant to go to sleep.’
‘Me too.’ I hold my hand out. ‘Deal?’
She hesitates for a moment and then reaches out and shakes my hand, and I first curse myself for the handshake because I can’t help noticing now that she’s removed her arms from her chest how revealing that top is, and then I curse myself fornoticing.
I drag my eyes away from places they shouldn’t be, and say, ‘Okay, then,’ and busy myself taking cushions and placing them down the middle of the bed.
Then we both kind of hover, before Flavia moves towards the side of the bed where she’s placed the pillows she had on the sofa, and I go to the other side.
‘This is a lot more comfortable,’ Flavia says in a muffled voice a minute later. ‘Ilovethis bed. Thank you.’
‘Nothing to thank me for,’ I point out.
