Page 27 of Fever Dream
“Right. Yes. Best friends,” he replies. I hear him shuffling a little and picture him settling into the sofa more. Like I’m doingon my end of the line. “And then I made the mistake of phoning my sister and that ended up being an hour of her mostly talking down at me from her lofty height of perfect daughter status.” His voice is full of fondness, and I smile even though I don’t recall him mentioning a sister before.
“You have a sister?”
“I do. She’s five years older than me and thinks that makes her an authority figure.”
“Ha,” I bark out. “I have a sister too but she’s, like, ten years younger than me. Pretty sure she was an oops baby but neither mum or dad will confirm or deny.”
“Yes, well, it’s rather uncomfortable talking to one’s parents about the act of making babies.”
“That’s a truth I cannot deny. So what’s your sister’s name?”
“Henrietta.”
“You Thornfield’s really like your fancy names, huh?”
He chuckles, the sound buzzing down the phone line. “Traditional parents is all. What about your sister?”
“Would you believe me if I told you her name is Luna?”
“Why would I not believe that? It’s a lovely name,” he says. “Do you and Luna get along?”
“As much as it’s possible to get along with a hormonal twelve-year-old girl,” I grin. “But I do miss her. More than I thought I would.”
“Yes. They can be a real pain in the backside but I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
I stretch out on the sofa, both of us quiet for a moment. Probably thinking about the sisters we both kind of miss but would deny ever admitting to the death.
“Hey, Case? This show is a bit naughty,” Harrison suddenly says. I glance across at the screen and just manage to hold in my laugh.
“Is it?” I reply, all innocence.
“Mmm. You like this kind of show?”
“It’s pretty good. Quite realistic I think,” I return.
“You think pinning your paramour up against the cowshed and railing them from behind is realistic, huh?” There’s a smile in his question.
“Definitely.”
“Huh. Maybe you’re a little more adventurous than I realised.” I laugh. He’s totally wrong. I amnotadventurous. “You ever had sex like that?”
“Course,” I grin. “Who hasn’t?”
“Well, there’s not that many cowsheds lying about in London so can’t say I’ve crossed that particular bridge.”
“You don’t know what you’re missing, H,” I chuckle.
“Oh, it’sHnow, is it? Harry wasn’t short enough for you?”
I shrug, aware he can’t actually see me. Maybe I should have FaceTimed him. Next time.
“Seemed more fitting,” I say.
“Fitting for watching this R rated sex scene on Netflix together you mean?” he chuckles.
“Exactly.”
We’re silent for the moment, watching the cowboy rail into his love interest, plenty of skin on display for the camera, and I feel myself getting slightly turned on.
