‘Probably.’ She collapses onto the end of my bed and I move my feet to the side to accommodate her. ‘But I think it is also called a welfare check and that tends to be looked on more kindly in a court of law.’
I pull myself up to a sitting position and push some hair behind my ears. ‘I’m fine.’
‘Clearly.’
‘Okay, I’ve been better but I’m not dead. I just need to exist here for another forty-eight hours and then I can be on the next flight home.’
‘Without saying goodbye?’ Elderly people really know how to stick the knife in, I think their puppy-dog faces could beat any four-year-old’s.
‘I…’ The truth of the matter is that I hadn’t really given anyone else a second thought. Perhaps, naively, I just assumed that everything would sort itself out. ‘Florian and I got into a fight.’ I offer up my reason for the abandonment as my excuse.
‘I guessed.’
‘You were entirely right, I should have told him about the book.’
‘I know.’
‘And I would just like to sit here and wallow for a bit longer if that’s okay.’
She sighs, gets to her feet and then pats some imaginary dust off of her skirt as if the messiness was contagious. ‘A week ago, you’d told him that you weren’t sure you wanted to be with him and now you’re acting like some lovesick seventeen-year-old.’
‘Urgh,’ is all I can manage.
‘Right, get up.’
‘What?’
‘Come on, up you get.’ With surprising dexterity, she pulls the covers off me and the bed.
‘Give them back.’ I pathetically reach for them, but she bats me away.
‘You are going to get into that shower whilst I make you something that doesn’t have an alcohol content and then we can talk.’
I lie there staring at the ceiling for a few seconds until I relent. I snatch up my dressing grown from the floordrobe and head towards the shower.
‘Better?’ The American glances in my general direction as I emerge from the bathroom. She is standing in my kitchen, washing up some mugs that I’m guessing needed some elbow grease to clean.
‘A bit,’ I shrug, not wanting to admit quite how much better I do feel after soaking myself for about twenty minutes in water that was close to boiling.
‘Right, sit down.’ She gestures to the dining room chair where she has laid up a place for me. ‘I assumed you might not be feeding yourself so I took the liberty of picking up some provisions.’ She struggles over with a tray that she places in front of me, full of bread, croissants and a pot of coffee.
‘Thank you, that’s very kind.’
‘Don’t worry about it. I quite enjoy looking after people in need.’
‘I’m notin need,’ I scoff and it is met by an incredulous eyebrow. ‘I just needed to lie low for a bit, that’s all. I’ll survive, but I do appreciate the food.’ I hold up the corner of the croissant.
‘I should let you know that I did run into Florian.’
‘You did?’
‘So, your state isn’t much of a surprise.’
‘What did he tell you?’
‘Not much. He didn’t need to.’ I look up from my croissant, appealing for a little more information. ‘He looked awful, better than you, but still awful. I asked where you were and he told me you were probably here, packing up your stuff and looking forward to going back.’
‘So, when you say he looked awful…’ I start, ‘I mean, was that a physical assessment or more of a mental—’
