‘You won competitions?’ he exclaims. ‘When was the last time you went swimming?’
‘Years ago. I stopped when…’ I take a shaky breath. ‘I was nine.’
He allows my emotions to settle before speaking. ‘Maybe this book is a sign that you should go swimming again.’
We both go silent. I can feel him turning over, and I think he’s facing the pillow wall. ‘I have been meaning to ask, how is your aunt doing?’
‘She’s okay.’ I think back to earlier when she modelled her shaved head.
‘That must be hard for you both.’
I gulp back a wave of emotion. ‘It is hard, but we’re doing okay.’
‘That’s good.’
‘She means a lot to me.’
‘Talk to me about her,’ he says, his voice soft and inviting. I hesitate. It feels unnatural to talk about my life. This is new territory. I do my best to avoid human interaction and lock myself away. But his gentle tone is coaxing me to start.
I take a moment. I have learnt that if I don’t do this, my emotions get the better of me. ‘My parents died in a car crash when I was nine. My aunt became my legal guardian.’
‘I’m sorry, Nelly,’ he says quietly.
We don’t say anything else to each other. I close my eyes and when I open them again, it’s morning and his half of the bed is empty.
He’s not in the flat, so I assume he’s gone out for the day.
After I shower and get dressed, I head to make my morning coffee, and I hear the front door close. ‘Nelly, we ran out of ground coffee, so I’ve been to the café and bought us a takeaway coffee each.’
He stands at the doorway to the kitchen, a packet of ground coffee tucked under his arm and a cardboard tray in hand, carrying two coffee cups. His dark hair looks messy and wild. Despite all this, his captivating eyes and boyish smile make my heart beat faster.
‘You didn’t have to do that.’
He grins. ‘It’s a celebration. We survived our first bed share together.’
‘Yes, we did.’
‘You didn’t have to use that rolling pin on me either.’
He places my cup on the table and raises his cup in a toast-like manner. ‘Here’s to us and many more nights of you and I bed-sharing.’
I smile and take a sip.
‘It feels good to wake up at a reasonable hour and not be plagued with worries about the night before,’ he says.
‘Do you worry a lot?’
He scratches his stubble-coated jaw. ‘I have been worrying about what you think of me and all my chaos.’
‘I feel like things might be different now.’
Lenny comes into the kitchen and meows at Oliver. Reaching down, he scoops up my cat, who is purring loudly. I watch Lenny brush his head against Oliver’s chin. ‘Life in this flat is going to be different – isn’t it, little fella?’
The sight of my little cat giving him a lot of feline love makes my heart melt for the first time.
Oliver lifts his gaze to me. ‘Did I mention that I’m coming to the bookshop today?’
‘What?’
