Coming Down (Love in London 1)
I recognise that voice. That lilt. A little pulse of excitement pushes through my leaden body. “I can’t. Your friends have poisoned me.”
A low laugh. “Is the door locked?”
I’ve no idea. Before I can work it out, the handle turns and the door swings open. Through half-shut eyes I see him enter the room, clutching a bag of crisps and a bottle of non-diet Coke.
“You’re a bit late for the munchies,” I tell him.
Niall sits down at the end of my bed and pushes the hair from his eyes. “I looked for you today after lectures.”
“I didn’t go.” That’s pretty obvious. I’m almost certain I have the look of a girl who’s been in bed all day.
“So I noticed.” He pauses for a moment. “I hear last night was fun.”
Finally, I sit up and catch his eye. “I thought you were going to be there. I didn’t realise I was supposed to invite you. It was all really confusing.”
“It’s not your fault. Digby’s useless at organising anything. That’s what comes of having money your whole life. He needs a secretary.”
I smile, remembering the way he looked after me. I’m beginning to have a soft spot for him. “What kind of parent calls their kid Digby anyway?”
Niall starts to laugh. “You think his parents called him Digby? Does he look like the biggest dog in the world to you?”
“Not really. So why’s he called Digby?”
“No idea. I assume he had a penchant for digging holes as a kid or something. His real name’s James.”
There’s no stopping the giggle that comes out of my mouth. I stare up at Niall, marvelling that this beautiful, funny boy is spending time with me. If I wasn’t feeling so crap, I’d be pulling him down on top of me.
“Here, drink this.” He passes me the litre bottle of Coke he’s just opened. I lift it to my mouth and take huge gulps. The sticky-sweet liquid pours down my throat. After I’ve swallowed almost half the bottle, I pass it back to him.
“Now you can get up.” He pulls the covers off my bed. I’m still in my jeans and top from last night. “Come on, hurry.”
I frown. “Why, what are we doing?” I like the sound of ‘we’. Want to say it again.
“We’re breaking into the art building. All my supplies are there. It’s about time I get to paint you.”
11
Silence can be so much louder than words. Maybe not in volume, or decibels, or however you choose to quantify it, but in meaning and intent, Simon’s muteness is deafening. He hasn’t mentioned missing our appointment, or asked me how I got on. Over the past month since then, he’s stopped making any attempt at pleasantries or conversation. In fact, he’s become active in his avoidance of me. Early meetings, late-night dinners, weekend working. He’s finally started to text me with excuses, when all I long for is his voice.
While I feel angry, I also feel guilty. Just a few simple words from me and we’d be able to work our way back to where we started. All I have to do is promise to give up my work and I know he’d thaw. That thought, though, leaves a bad taste in my mouth. He’s trying to emotionally blackmail me and it just doesn’t seem fair. I’ve already failed on my first homework assignment for Louise. I’m too afraid to explain why I want to stay at the clinic.
He’s made it patently clear it’s his way or the highway. He’s used to making the decisions while I do as he asks. I’m not living up to my side of our bargain.
On Thursday he disappears to the country for the weekend. I go into the clinic early to seek out Lara, to ask her if she wants to do something on Saturday; anything to avoid four days alone.
“I’d love to, but Alex is whisking m
e away.” She looks a lot happier than she did last week. “We said we’d go to a nice hotel in the country and talk. Try to work things through.”
I smile at her as if it’s the best news in the world. And it would be, if I didn’t have that little bit of envy gnawing at my stomach. “That sounds lovely. You two will work it out, I know it.” They will, because they’re speaking to each other.
A smile stretches across her face. “It’s not cheap, but separating would be more expensive, so we’re going for it anyway.”
Separation. I wonder if that’s where Simon and I are headed. I wish I could see into his mind, work out if he’s playing brinkmanship or has simply thrown in the towel. How can I fight for something if he’s already given up on it? Even if I want to.
Lara looks at me quizzically. “Are you okay?”
I snap out of my thoughts. “Yes, I’m fine. Why?”