Page 94 of Something Borrowed

“Thank you,” I say politely, pressing it to his forehead again.

“I can never show my face in this country again.”

“That’s a bit dramatic, babe. It was you, me, and a few old-aged pensioners.”

“Who never fell off the mountain.”

“It was a hill, according to Kostas.”

“How would he know?”

“He’s the guide.”

“Hmm.”

“Oh, and the two girls were there as well.”

“Do you mean the two girls who laughed at me?”

“I don’t think they laughed for long, Raff.”

“Really? It was like a pack of hyenas serenading me to my eternal rest.”

I snort again. “They stopped laughing pretty quickly, anyway. By the time we came down the hill?—”

“Mountain.”

“Okay, by the time we climbed down from Mount Etna, one of them was telling me a particularly stellar story about when she had a threesome in a broom cupboard.”

“I’ll have to avoid Greece from now on.”

“I didn’t even see you fall,” I add quickly. “So, if I didn’t see it, it never happened.”

“I believe that only works in preschool, but thank you for giving it the great British try.”

I give in and start to laugh, the sound loud in the hotel room. “I wish I had seen it. I wish itsomuch.”

“You’re such a twat.”

The crossness in his voice makes me laugh harder, and soon, I’m lying on the bed holding my side with tears running down my cheeks.

He pokes a finger into my ribs, making me squirm, and I get myself under control. “How are you really? Kostas said you fell quite far.”

“He’s too kind. It was more of a backward roll followed by a commando crawl back up to the fence.”

I reach out, feeling for his hand, and pat it. “Well, you do like going commando.”

“You would see the silver lining in a tornado.”

“At least you’ve had a shower now. That’ll have cleaned the cuts. Are there many, babe?”

“They’ll be okay. I had worse in the ball pit when I was five.”

I snort. “Was that the time Rollo took you and left you there all day?”

“Do you mean when he actually forgot his own child?”

“That was it.”

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