Page 53 of Sleep

“He’s right,” Finley said. “And we’ll both be fine with that.”

“Agree.” I swallowed down a mouthful of tea. It was time we put an end to this. “Thank you,” I managed to get out.

“For what?”

“Doing this for Mark.”

“Not just for Mark, but you should be proud, for finally standing up for yourself. He’s still going on about you assaulting him with a carafe.”

“I missed.”

“I’m glad you did. Because I love him and really want him around.”

“Even though you don’t want me around.”

“You know it.”

“I do.”

“Mark said you’ve got a stalker.”

“I don’t.”

“You smiled when you said that. Liar. Snagged yourself a rich dude.”

“I haven’t snagged shit, Finny. Jonny’s a nice guy. We’re friends.”

“You shagged him yet?”

I looked around the room for something to throw at him. “It’s not…like that.”

“Then make it like that. You like this guy, I can tell.”

“Shut it.”

“You’ve gone all red, Mabs.”

“Seriously…” I picked up the cup.

“I’m going to go. I reckon you should leave it a few days, then talk to Mark.” He stood up. Pushed the chair back in under the table. “I’m going to sit with your mum for a bit before I go. She was always kind to me. I owe her a lot.”

I nodded, watched him walk out into the hallway before he turned around and pinned me with his eyes the way only Finley Christensen could.

“Don’t come back. Don’t you dare.”

I hated him for telling me what to do, even though he was absolutely right. I wasn’t going back. No way.

19. Jonathan

It was only three in the afternoon, and I was already panicking. There was a lunch bag on the side, which I had opened but then became distracted and forgot about eating. Now I was tugging at my tie, wondering if whatever was in the bag was still safe to eat. It smelled good, whatever it was…or had been. Something sweet and spicy. I looked at the sticky label in my hand, and once again, the panic took over.

I would have to sleep on the sofa tonight, on my own, with side light on. I needed to stop stewing and figure out how to deal with everything. I hadn’t heard from them, but even thinking about them hurt my head. I should probably text or give them a friendly call.

No, I really should not do that. Mabel said they needed to go home and get their head screwed on straight. Ducks. There’d been mentions of ducks.

The smile on my face felt more like a grimace.

Official reminder that you’re having the kids tomorrow night. And let me know what you want for Christmas!

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