Page 53 of Witch You Weren't Here

‘Yes. Yes. I will.’

He had more he needed to tell her? They hadn’t covered everything? She guessed she didn’t know what she didn’t know. That was the problem there. At that moment, it was tricky to remember what they had covered. Enough for her to want to kiss him anyway. If she hadn’t panicked about her stupid glasses, she could still be kissing him.

She pressed her glasses firmly onto the bridge of her nose, causing a pain across her sinuses. Stupid glasses. No. Stupid gift. ‘Ouch.’

Harry came over to help her sit up, his hand sliding behind her back and supporting her. ‘Are you OK?’

‘Yeah.’ She licked her lips. Where had all the moisture gone? ‘Good, good. Fine and dandy.’

‘Fine enough to walk to the car park where Leon’s car is, or shall I just get it and drive down here?’ Harry sounded sceptical and sat on the sofa next to her, his arm still behind her back, all strong and warm. It made her want to turn and crawl into his lap.

‘I think, with the snow, and the roads around here, it would be safer if you walked to the car,’ Alex said. ‘The fresh air will probably help her too.’

‘Think you’re up to that?’ Harry asked her, the lines between his eyebrows deep.

She reached out and smoothed them with the pad of her index finger. ‘I will do my absolutely-tootly best.’

Harry smiled and caught her finger, giving it a brief squeeze.

‘Right, let’s get Operation Sober-Kay-Up on the go then.’ Leon clapped his hands together.

The next twenty minutes were a flurry of Kay being bossed about in a way that she never would have tolerated normally. She was coaxed into the shower, to be blasted with cold water – by herself unfortunately. Once she was dressed, they filled her up with very strong coffee and very sharp juice, until her stomach was sloshing, tucked a couple of Mars bars and a bottle of water in her tote bag for good measure and bundled her out the back door with Harry, in a flurry of hugs and kisses and promises to come back again soon.

It was fully dark outside now and the snow lay deep on the roads – no more of that slushy stuff. It quickly became apparent that Alex had been right about the effect of the orange juice, in that her head was swimming and she felt both more stoned, but more awake at the same time. She was having an even harder time keeping herself upright and the dark water in the canals seemed to be calling to her. Harry kept having to rescue her from lemming-it off the edge, his lips pressed flat. All Kay could think about was how they felt on her mouth, on her skin. She knew they needed to hurry, but her body was simply not co-operating.

‘I’m so sorry,’ she told him, leaning, almost doubled over, on a black bollard, snow squishing into her stomach. It felt like they had been walking for a century, and they’d only made it to the end of the second road.

‘You don’t need to be sorry, it was an accident,’ he reassured her, then banded his duffel bag across his chest and got her to climb up onto his back so he could piggyback her.

She knew she shouldn’t be enjoying it quite so much, since it was obviously costing him a lot of effort, but having her body wrapped around his – even if they were bundled up in their coats – was pretty heavenly. Especially as they walked along with the snow falling and the lights of Amsterdam glittering in the canals. Kay rested her cheek against his head and breathed in the scent of his soft hair. This had to be a dream. And if it was, she wasn’t sure she wanted to wake up from it.

Chapter Thirteen

8.45 p.m.: saturday 30 october

Nr. Den Hoorn, Amsterdam

297 miles and 18(+1) hours and 15 minutes until the wedding

Kay didn’t exactly go to sleep. The car was small, the seat not particularly comfortable, and she wasn’t feeling so stoned now that she could have slept draped over a wall. So, instead, she snuggled up into the corner as far as she could, while remaining beneath the seat belt, and closed her eyes.

Or, at least, she kept them mostly closed. She couldn’t help opening them a crack, just enough to peer through her lashes and watch Harry. It was so dark out now, nothing much to see other than the lighting alongside the roads and the dusting of snow across the flat land, with the occasional hint of windmill – usually the modern kind.

The yellow lights flashed into his hair, making it look like it was kindling to flame every so often. He’d sucked his bottom lip in between his teeth and there was a furrow in his brow again. She wondered if this was his normal driving face. All tense concentration. So serious. He’d not had a licence when she knew him before, though he’d been taking lessons. She’d imagined him taking her out in his car when he eventually got one and them making out in the back seat up at the local viewpoint.

She knew what his kisses were like now. She could conjure the sensation of his tongue sliding along hers. His long fingers tightening in her hair, the sharp pleasurable tug on her scalp. She shivered at the memory.

Harry glanced over at her and she shut her eyes that extra millimetre, so he didn’t catch her faking it. She heard him fiddling with some of the controls and then some awkward shuffling before a soft weight landed on her lap.

His coat. He’d just put his sorcerer’s coat of many pockets over her because he thought she was cold.

She shifted with a murmur, to hide the sudden stiffness of her surprise, and he made a gentle hushing noise and proceeded to tuck her in one-handedly. Little incremental tugs to smooth the material out and raise it up her body, towards her shoulders.

Had she ever hated the sight of this coat?

Yes, she had. About twenty-four hours ago, she’d thought it was utterly ridiculous and pretentious and irritating. A bludgeon of negativity to hammer down all the positive feelings that bumping into him had brought about – excitement, desire. Perhaps he hadn’t been so wrong, trying to get her to hate him so she didn’t hurt so much.

But now …

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