‘You awake?’ Leonie says.
‘Mmmmm.’ I stretch my toes to the end of the bed and reach my arms up over my head.
‘These beds are freakishly comfy,’ she says. ‘I haven’t slept that well for ages.’
After Dad died Leonie used to come into my room and get in bed with me in the middle of the night. At first it woke me up, but after a while I didn’t even know she’d done it until I woke up in the morning squeezed up against the wall with her knees or her elbows digging into me. We never really talked about it and then she just stopped.
There’s a knock on the door and then it opens slightly. ‘Are you two awake?’ Elyse whispers.
‘No,’ Leonie says at the same time as I say, ‘Come in.’
‘Did you have the best night’s sleep ever?’ Leonie says, kicking off her duvet and stretching her pyjama-clad legs up to the ceiling.
‘Not really, no,’ Elyse says. ‘Mum was crying in her sleep.’
I sit up. ‘Really?’
Elyse nods.
‘Did she wake up at all?’ Leonie asks.
‘No,’ Elyse says. ‘It was really weird. At first I thought she was awake and so I tried to talk to her, but then I realised she was still asleep. She did it on and off all through the night. At least it seemed like that. I don’t feel like I’ve had much sleep, anyway.’
‘God,’ I say, my voice cracking. I swallow hard. I don’t want to cry. But the thought of Mum keeping it together when she’s awake and crying in her sleep …
‘Should we talk to her?’ Leonie says and without looking I can tell she’s crying.
‘I don’t know,’ Elyse says. ‘I don’t know what to do for the best. How are we meant to know what to do?’
I wipe at my eyes and try to slow my breathing down. ‘I think if she wanted to talk about it, to us, she would do. Maybe she’s just not ready yet.’
Leonie sniffs and presses her foot against my leg. ‘Maybe.’
‘Is she asleep now?’ I ask Elyse.
‘I think so. She was asleep when I left.’
‘Maybe it’s a good thing,’ Leonie says, her voice still small. ‘Maybe she’s been in denial all this time and now …’
It makes sense, I suppose. Mum’s been pushing it away and now it’s finally hit her.
‘I guess that’s healthy?’ I say.
‘I think so,’ Elyse says.
‘Fuck. Poor Mum,’ Leonie says.
We sit in silence for a bit, and then my sisters convince me to go downstairs to get hot chocolate for the three of us.
‘You can see what Luke looks like first thing in the morning,’ Elyse says. ‘Maybe he’s really hideous.’
‘I doubt he’s even up,’ I say, but I brush my hair and put on mascara and lipgloss just in case. Like an idiot.
When I get downstairs, Toby’s in the kitchen singing along with the radio. Or rather, howling along with it since it’s an Italian song and he clearly doesn’t know the words.
‘Did you sleep well?’ he asks as he pours hot water into a teapot.
‘Tea?’ I ask.
‘Yeah, for Mum. Stefano’s tried to convince her to start the day with coffee, but he’s not having any luck.’
‘You’re taking them breakfast in bed?’
Toby shudders. ‘God, no. Stefano’s already gone to the mark –’ He stops and says, ‘Hey, man.’
I get that clenched, fluttery feeling in my stomach again and I turn and see Luke walk in. He is in no way hideous. He’s clearly come straight downstairs from bed. His hair is all over the place and I think he’s even got pillow creases on his face. He’s rubbing his stubbly chin with one hand and he pushes his other hand back through his hair. He’s got a fairly fresh-looking burn on the back of his wrist. I want to touch it.
‘Morning,’ he says, his voice rough and croaky. It makes my stomach twist.
‘I slept like the dead,’ he says, taking a step towards the coffee machine. He stops. ‘Oh shit, Milly. I’m sorry.’
He’s got the little frown line between his eyes and he looks mortified.
‘No,’ I say. ‘Don’t worry about it. Honestly.’
‘No, that was totally tactless.’ He reaches out and touches my arm and my skin prickles.
‘It’s fine, really,’ I say, tightening my fingers on the countertop I’m holding onto.
I look at Toby and see him look from Luke to me. I narrow my eyes at him and he holds his hands up and grins.
‘What’s your order?’ he asks me.
I don’t know what he means at first, but then I realise. ‘Oh. Hot chocolate. Three, please.’
‘What about Aunt Carrie?’
‘She’s sleeping in,’ I say. At least, I hope she is.
‘So, what’s happening today?’ Luke asks.
He pulls a chair out from under the breakfast bar and leans against it rather than actually sitting down. I can see the muscles in his forearms, the prominent bones in his wrists, his knuckles, his long fingers curled around the back of the chair. I imagine how they’d feel inside me and have to look away, my face heating up.
‘Setting up the garden,’ Toby says. ‘A day of hard labour ahead.’
‘I’d better go and get a shower then,’ Luke says and as he straightens up, I get a glimpse of a strip of tanned skin just under the hem of his T-shirt and it takes my breath away. I always thought that was an exaggeration, but I do actually feel a catch in my chest and I have to concentrate on my breathing.
Toby switches the coffee machine on to add the hot milk to the hot chocolate and once it’s finished its noisy whooshing and hissing, he laughs and says, ‘God, you’ve got it bad.’
‘What?’
He turns and grins. ‘Luke. You lurve him.’
‘Oh my god, Toby!’ My face is burning. ‘Is it obvious?’
The phone rings and he puts one finger up to tell me to wait, and goes through to answer.
I can’t believe I’ve made – or am still making – an arse of myself over Luke again. After the last time. And after I said I wasn’t going to. This is why I’m not interested in relationships. I don’t understand how it’s all supposed to work. Elyse tells me it’s easy: you like someone, they like you, you flirt a bit, you arrange to go out. It’s like that song Dad used to sing about us. That’s all about how easy love is. Like taking candy from a baby, apparently. Although I don’t think that’s so easy either. But I just don’t see it. All that happens to me is I get a crush on someone, they turn out not to be interested or to have a girlfriend or I manage to spectacularly fuck it up, like I did with Jake.
‘He’s not seeing anyone, you know?’ Toby says, walking back into the kitchen.
‘Luke?’ I say, stupidly.
‘No, the Pope. The Vatican’s closed for the wedding,’ he says sarcastically. ‘Yes, Luke.’
‘What happened to that girl … back at home?’
Toby scrunches his face up. ‘Was it Melissa?’
‘No.’ I sigh. ‘Hannah.’
‘Ah yes. That didn’t last very long at all. Maybe a couple of days after the … you know, funeral.’
I want to lean over and just bang my head on the table, but I restrain myself.
‘What’s the problem?’ Toby says. ‘You clearly like him, he likes you, you’re both all right to look at, neither of you is a dick … I mean, he has his moments, but –’
‘You think he likes me?’ I ask without lifting my head.
‘Of course he likes you. What’s not to like?’
I take a deep breath and figure I’ll just come out with it. ‘Did he ever tell you what happened after the funeral? At your house?’
He frowns. ‘I don’t think so, no. Why? What happened?’
I shake my head. ‘It doesn’t matter.’
‘Something happened between the two of you, you mean?’
I lift my head and look up at the ceiling. There’s a partially deflated balloon nestled in the corner.
‘I … yeah. I mean …’ I think about telling him. I think about telling him exactly what happened. But I can’t do it. ‘Sort of. It wasn’t a big deal. It was just … a thing.’
‘Did you kiss?’ he says, grinning.
I shake my head. ‘We saw him. Last night. He was round the corner, feeling up some girl in a doorway.’
‘Long blonde hair?’ Toby says and then holds his hands out in front of himself to suggest big boobs.
‘Ugh,’ I say, swatting at his hands. ‘But yes. Exactly.’
‘I bet that was Carolina.’ Italian pronunciation: Caroleena. ‘There’s nothing going on there.’
I roll my eyes. ‘He had his hands all over her …’ I hold my hands out in front, same as Toby had.
Toby pulls a face. ‘Well, yeah. I mean … not nothing. But he’s not into her.’
‘He looked like he was into her.’
‘I think they hook up sometimes, yeah, but she’s not, like, a girlfriend or anything.’
‘Do you do that?’ I say. ‘Just hook up? Kiss some random girl, give them a thorough breast exam, go on with your life.’
‘I don’t, no,’ Toby says.
‘No, cos you’re nice.’
‘I’m delightful. But Luke’s good too. He just sees girls sometimes. He gets given a lot of numbers. And sometimes he calls them. There’s nothing wrong with that.’
‘Right,’ I say. ‘That doesn’t really make me feel better.’
Toby puts the three cups of hot chocolate on a tray.
‘He likes you,’ he says, shrugging. ‘That’s all I know.’
I scratch at the countertop with a fingernail. ‘I just … I don’t want to be Toby’s cousin who happened to be in Rome.’
‘I don’t think you would be. He’s a good guy, Mil. For reals.’
I nod. ‘Okay.’
‘You’d better take that upstairs before it goes cold,’ he says, nodding at the tray.