Page 86 of The Day After Christmas
She giggled in spite of herself. ‘I’m so sorry, that was really mean.’
‘It was really mean,’ he said, lifting his head and looking into her eyes once more. ‘And now you need to be taught a lesson.’ He gave her a cheeky grin.
‘Ooh, I like the sound of that,’ she said, as he lifted her onto the counter and pressed his body between her thighs. Her hands were on his shoulders and her heart was in her mouth.
‘You better believe it,’ he said, his voice a low purr.
‘Are you going to punish me?’ she whispered in his ear and he moaned once more, then covered her mouth with his and kissed her deep and soft and slow till it was her turn to moan.
And then his hands were lifting her pyjama vest over her head and running all over her skin and she had her hands on his taut stomach and they were kissing each other urgently and all Felicity could think wasplease, please, please never leave me.
Fortunately, she couldn’t embarrass herself by actually saying the words out loud or begging him to stay with her forever. After all, her mouth was busy.
CHAPTER 42
Bex was in a bit of a pickle.
By all accounts, Sophie had spent the rest of the weekend camped on her sofa, mopping her up on a regular basis, making sure she was dressed, trying to get her to eat a few morsels of food, brushing her hair. It was like having another child, she said. Felicity had never heard her friend sound so worried.
On the Monday, Felicity took her turn. Bex had done it for her, after all, all those years ago. As she let herself into Bex’s flat with the key from Sophie, the first thing that struck her was the smell. It was the smell of eco-cleaner which seemed to permeate the whole place. Eucalyptus and rhubarb or something like that. It was overpowering.
She found Bex curled up under a duvet on the sofa.
‘What is that smell?’
No response.
‘Bex. Are you under there? What’s that awful smell?’
She shook Bex’s shoulder, or at least, where she thought her shoulder should be under all those feathers, and felt a stab of fear go through her when there was no movement. And then, very slowly, Bex pulled down the duvet just far enough that shecould turn her head and look at Felicity. Her eyes were red and swollen and her skin was blotchy. Felicity couldn’t remember ever having seen her without make-up before, let alone looking like this.
‘Sophie’s been cleaning,’ she said quietly, and her voice was rough as if she hadn’t spoken for a while. Which, according to Sophie, she hadn’t.
‘You’re not kidding,’ said Felicity, attempting a laugh. ‘It smells like she’s cleaned the whole place with a stick of rhubarb. I do hate rhubarb.’
She was hoping for a small chuckle with that one, but there was nothing. Felicity perched on the edge of the sofa and put a hand on the duvet pile.
‘How are you?’ she said gently.
‘Why are you here, Felicity?’ said Bex then, her voice sharp.
‘I had to see you, to see if you’re okay.’
‘What do you think?’
‘If I had to guess I’d say… you’re not?’
The body under the duvet snorted with disdain. ‘Funny that.’
‘Do you want me to get you some lunch?’
‘Not hungry.’
‘Okay. Is there anything else you need?’
At this, Bex threw the covers back completely and Felicity stood up and moved to the opposite sofa to give her some room. Bex sat up and rubbed her hands across her face but she didn’t reply.
‘Bex, I’m so, so sorry. Can I do anything?’ said Felicity, attempting to sound patient and understanding.
