“I wanted to give you as much of a lie-in as I could.”
I make for the edge of the mattress as he moves aside. Mornings aren’t really my thing. But never mind. No time to wallow in bed and ponder the meaning of life and death. And honestly, I’ve had a week to do that, and it hasn’t helped.
“Hurry but be careful,” he says. “Those tiles in the bathroom can be a little slippery when wet. We don’t want you falling.”
“I’m fine.”
“And go easy with your hairbrush and toothbrush and so on.”
“I’m not going to choke on my own toothbrush, Ali. Calm down, please.”
“Maybe I should come with you...”
Which is about when I close the bathroom door to get a moment’s peace to pull myself together. I hand-washed my underwear with soap last night and left it hanging over a towel rack. Yesterday’s top and jeans are okay for another round. I tie back my hair in a ponytail and brush my teeth. Meeting royalty should be a bigger deal, necessitating a trip to the salon and actual fresh and pressed clothing. On the other hand, it’s just another jerk who has treated Alistair like crap. Lip gloss and mascara will do.
“Ready?” he asks with his blank face back on and his hand held out to me. His fingers close around mine and hold on tight. “Let’s get this over and done with so I can get you some breakfast.”
“That sounds like a great plan. I really need coffee.”
“So,” he says. “Last night when I couldn’t sleep, I did some thinking. Whether I believe in the validity of predictions or not, the others have come true. I was therefore thinking it wouldn’t be imprudent of us to take some precautions today.”
“I’m listening.”
“What if after this we spend the day holed up in the guesthouse? Just you and me.”
“You mean stay off the road in case of any crashes, away from the general public in case of I don’t know what, and generally keep me close so you can keep an eye on me?”
“Yes,” he says. “That about sums up my plan. Are you amenable?”
“Sounds good.” As if I would not want to spend my possible last day with the person I have big feelings for. Really big. Like, huge. “But if a toilet seat from a space station plummets to Earth and kills both of us on impact, it’s not my fault that you die too just because you were with me.”
He gives me a long look.
“It’s a plot point from an old TV show.”
“Okay.”
“You have to admit, it would make for an interesting death.”
He gives me another of those looks.
“Then there’s getting stoned by the townsfolk like in ‘The Lottery’ by Shirley Jackson. Or pulled into the sewer by a monster like Georgie inItby Stephen King,” I say, the words flowing faster and faster from my mouth. “And how about when—”
“Stop,” orders Alistair. “Breathe.”
I do as I’m told and suck in a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “Sorry. I was getting panicky and babbling, wasn’t I?”
“Just a little. Which is not a problem. But perhaps you could choose a friendlier topic to discuss? One that won’t send us both into a meltdown.”
“Right. Yeah.”
He just waits.
“I’m good,” I say with a grim smile. “Nothing dire is going to happen. Everything will be fine.”
“Are you just saying that to pacify me?”
“Both of us, really.” I pull myself up tall. “Let’s do this.”