Page 34 of Don't Fall in Love (and how to break the rules)

There was a knock at the door. “Oh no,” said Chrissie, “tell me that’s not one of the kids. I thought once we’d filled them with burgers and chips in the dining room downstairs they’d all settle down.”

“It’s only me,” came a muffled voice. It was Dan.

“Come in,” called Nisha, not moving from her spot.

The door opened. “Sorry, ladies,” Dan said. “I have a poorly Francis.” The pale boy was cowering behind him, looking as though he might vomit at any moment.

“Oh no,” said Chrissie, walking over to take a closer look.

“I wouldn’t get too close,” said Dan. “We’ve had a couple of projectile moments, and I think another may be in the offing. Here,” he added, picking up the waste paper bin at the door and handing it to poor Francis.

“Just when I thought we might get to settle down and chill for a bit,” said Nisha under her breath.

“Have you ever been on a school trip before?” Chrissie admonished her. “Ok, Dan. What are we going to do?”

“Well, I can’t leave him in the dorm – he’ll vom everywhere and keep the other boys awake. I think we need to swap rooms. Philippa has the single and you two have the twin. My room has a double in it.” Chrissie felt a knot forming in her stomach as Dan continued. “I need to stay with Francis, and if we stay in here, he can have a bit of space and access to your en-suite, and I can be in the bed on the other side of the room.” He paused, and addressed his next comments to Nisha. “I realise it’s not ideal, but if you two are happy to share a double, then we can all, hopefully, get a reasonable night.”

There was a pause. Chrissie looked over at Nisha. “Sure,” said Nisha, swinging her legs down from her bed and grabbing her bag. She hadn’t unpacked yet. “Assuming Chris doesn’t mind,”she added, nodding her head towards Chrissie, but not making eye contact.

“Of course,” said Chrissie, not knowing what else to say, but also certain this was not a good idea, on many levels.

The last time they’d shared a bed it had all ended in tears – most of them Chrissie’s. As she gathered together her possessions and put them back in her bag, she reminded herself that that was twenty years ago. Ancient history. And anyway, she was a proper grown-up now, and she and Nisha appeared to have got over their troubles. She zipped up her bag. Yes, it would be fine.

“Are you going to be ok?” asked Nisha, looking at Dan and his tiny charge who was already retching into the bin.

“Sure,” said Dan, dropping his bag on the floor by the bed Nisha had originally chosen. “I have supplies of the finest French lemonade, made by a lady called Stella Artois.”

“Ah, got to love Stella. A bit of a harsh taste for me, but we’ve stocked up on grape juice made by Rio Cha,” said Nisha.

Chrissie stifled a giggle as she patted Francis’ back gently. “Will you be ok, Francis?”

“Yeah,” he said, quietly. “Mr Harvey will look after me.”

“He will,” Chrissie told him with a smile. “Mr Harvey, give us a shout if you need help at any point.”

Dan gave a thumbs up.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

“So,” said Nisha, “it’s certainly not a king-sized bed, is it?”

Chrissie stood beside her in the doorway of the room. “Nope. I mean, I’m not sure it’s even a full double, if I’m honest. Do you want me to sleep on the floor?”

“What? No, that would be ridiculous. I’m sure this will be fine. We’ll just have to keep very still to avoid knocking each other out,” said Nisha, looking again at the tiny bed.

Chrissie could feel her heart in her throat, but couldn’t work out why.

“Besides, it’s not like we’ve never shared a bed before,” said Nisha, looking at Chrissie for the first time since the double bed had been suggested. Chrissie couldn’t work out whether that was a glint of amusement or annoyance in her eyes. She tried not to overthink it. She failed.

Chrissie sighed. “True,” she replied, simply.

“Well, here we are. I think we’ve earned some wine,” Nisha said, dropping her bag on the floor and pulling the promised bottle of Rioja from it.

“Ah yes, that Rio Cha grape juice,” said Chrissie, sitting on one side of the bed. “You and Dan are a terrible influence on each other. And on me.”

“Good,” said Nisha, sitting beside her. “For what it’s worth, I think you need a bad influence here and there.”

Chrissie felt her stomach somersault in a way she hadn’t felt since she’d kissed Nisha weeks ago. The kiss she had replayed in her head more times than she cared to admit, especially when Nisha grinned with that dimple of hers.

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