Page 11 of Too Busy for Love

‘Bloody hell, half past seven,’ he announces. ‘I haven’t slept in this late for years.’

‘Me neither.’

An uneasy silence falls, and I feel we’re both searching for a phrase to lift the awkwardness of being in the same bed when we really don’t know each other that well.

‘Umm, I suppose I’d better go back to my room and think about getting up properly,’ I say eventually, as I swing my legs out of the bed. ‘Thank you for having me.’

To my surprise, Jock bursts out laughing.

‘What?’

‘Thank you for having me,’ he parrots. ‘It’s just so… formal. Are you going to write me a thank you letter as well?’

‘Piss off,’ I say, but I’m laughing too. ‘What should I have said then?’

‘Something about how sharing a bed with me was a life-changing experience would have been nice.’

‘Is that what all the girls say?’

‘Not exactly, but a boy can dream.’

‘OK, let me try again,’ I tell him as I swing my legs back into the bed and lean over towards him.

‘You, Jock, are my knight in shining armour,’ I tell him, laying it on as thick as I can. ‘I was a damsel in distress, and you gallantly came to my rescue. Alas, I have no fortune, but I hope you will accept this kiss as a token of my undying gratitude.’

I lean in further and plant a kiss on his cheek.

‘Is that better?’ I ask.

‘I prefer it to “thank you for having me”, even though you were blatantly taking the piss.’

‘Good. Right, I’m going to love you and leave you.’

‘Shall we meet in the main kitchen in half an hour? I could make us some breakfast.’

I grin. ‘That sounds like an excellent idea.’

As I cross the corridor, I glance again at Madame’s door and I realise that, although Jock’s and my freedom is hanging in the balance, our situation is considerably more promising than hers and Maria’s. The thought gives me a lot of comfort, and I’m smiling as I undress and step into the shower.

5

‘Good grief, what are you wearing?’ Jock exclaims as I enter the kitchen half an hour later.

‘What do you mean?’ I ask. As I’m off duty, I’ve put on a faded pair of jeans and a hoodie. I’ve also left my hair down.

‘Sorry, I guess I never saw you as someone who wore casual clothes. What with that and your hair, you look like a completely different person.’

‘Do you want me to change into my uniform and put my hair up? I’d hate to traumatise you.’

‘No, it’s fine. Sorry, I should have thought before opening my mouth. I meant it as a compliment, but it came out wrong.’

‘You don’t exactly look like a chef this morning either,’ I observe, waving my hand at his jeans and T-shirt combo.

Our fashion debate is interrupted by the sound of the back door buzzer and we both glance automatically at the screen showing the CCTV feed. To our relief, it’s Ramon with the laundry delivery and not a pack of journalists.

‘I guess nobody’s told him we’re closed,’ Jock says.

‘Leave it to me. I’ll deal with it,’ I tell him as I make my way over to the door.

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