Page 111 of Under Your Spell

With a rumble of frustration, Theo does. ‘Yes?’ he says, clipped, his eyes still on me. ‘I know.’ There’s a pause and while I can’t hear David’s words, I can hear the tone of his voice. It is… not calm.

‘I know, David.’ Theo pinches his nose. ‘Yes, I do think this is an excellent example of my priorities. You were the one who said I should…’ Whatever the interesting conclusion of that sentence may be I don’t find out because it is cut off by the sound of indignant squawking.

‘I agree the timing could be better,’ Theo says calmly after a moment, ‘but this is the situation we find ourselves in. Tell them I’m on my way. They’ll just have to push my bit back. Oh, er…’ – here Theo hesitates, flexes his right hand with a grimace – ‘and can you make sure the doctor is on hand, because I’ve hurt my thumb. I don’t think it’s broken.’ The squawking has stopped, but the frozen silence on the other end of the line rings out twice as loud. Finally, I hear David say something.

‘Yes, thank you,’ Theo replies acidly, ‘I am aware that playing the guitar necessitates the use of my thumb; that’s why I’m asking you to call the doctor. Just stop fussing, I’m leaving.’ With this, he disconnects the call, scrubs his unbroken hand over his face.

‘I really am sorry about this, Clemmie. I’m going to leave now. But you know where I am. Whenever you’re ready to talk… if you want to talk, I’ll be there. I’m not going anywhere.’ He hesitates here. ‘I mean, I am literally leaving now, but I’m not leaving.’ He makes a slightly pained noise. ‘How can I be so bad at this?’

The phone is buzzing again, but Theo ignores it for another long moment, staring deeply into my eyes.

‘Mr Eliott?’ The voice outside is closer now, footsteps pounding up the stairs.

Theo lets out a deep sigh of frustration, and then, like he can’t help it, he leans forward, touches his forehead to mine, eyes closed just for a second as our breath mingles. It’s only the slightest touch, the tiniest point of contact between us, but I feel it down to my toes. My body is having some sort of meltdown and my brain isn’t far behind.

Then, he wrenches himself away with a soft curse. ‘We’ll talk later, okay?’ he says to me. ‘I mean, I hope we’ll talk later. If that’s what you want.’

‘I’ll think about it,’ I say. He nods.

And with that, he’s gone, jogging down the corridor.

‘All right, I’m coming, I’m coming,’ I hear him call.

‘Mr Eliott, you’re going to get me sacked,’ his driver’s voice murmurs. ‘You said you only needed five minutes and that was an hour ago. I’m supposed to hog-tie you and stick you in the boot at this point…’

‘I’m really sorry, Steve, but at least I left you the audiobook to keep you company. I told you you’d like it.’

‘Yeah, that’s true. I’ve just got to the bit where the Duke proposes…’

As the sound of their voices recede, I throw myself onto my bed. ‘What. Was. That?’ I ask the empty room.

‘That’s just what we want to know,’ Lil’s voice pipes up, and I turn to find her and Serena standing in the doorway. Lil is holding a disgruntled Tuna the cat in her arms.

‘Seriously, Clemmie,’ Serena says. ‘What the fuck is going on?’

Chapter Forty-Four

The next day is another familiar annual event: recovering from Lil-Fest. And last night had been a doozy. After I told my sisters that I didn’t want to talk about my feelings anymore, that instead I wanted to go downstairs and drink and dance until I couldn’t feel my face or my feet, they had wisely agreed to put our conversation on hold.

When, half an hour later, Henry proposed to Lil live on stage, our fate was sealed. We toasted the happy couple until we were all glittering with champagne, and rather than dwelling on the emotional train crash that had taken place earlier, I decided just to be happy for my sister and to spend the rest of the night celebrating her.

Now it is gone midday and my entire body is protesting that decision. I manage to force my eyes open and realize I am lying face down on my bed. Tuna examines me with haughty benevolence from his position curled on top of my laundry.

When I try to roll over, something gets in the way and it takes an embarrassingly long time to realize I have my fairy wings on over my pyjamas.

My bedroom door slams open, making me wince.

‘Fucking hell,’ Serena groans from the doorway. ‘I think I might be dying.’

‘Join the club,’ I croak. ‘Why do I have these stupid wings on?’

Serena laughs, but then clutches her stomach. ‘You were adamant you wanted to sleep in them,’ she says after a moment. ‘I don’t know why. I feel like it made sense at the time.’

She crawls into bed beside me. ‘Why do we do this to ourselves every year?’ I moan.

‘Because we’re idiots.’ Serena’s voice is muffled from where her face is pressed into the pillow.

‘What did we do last night?’ Lil’s voice quavers from the doorway. ‘I feel like I’ve been run over.’ She comes to join us, curls up in the foetal position at the end of the bed.