Page 74 of Love and Loathing

The car stopped, a bus close in front, red lights crystallised by the drizzling rain. Aubrey flipped the wipers on and shifted his shoulders with a sigh.

“Achey?” Evie asked.

“Not really. You?”

“All over. Everything hurts.”

“That’s because you work like a maniac. I’m not sure you even breathed.”

“There’s so much to do!”

“It’s not going to get done in one day.”

“I know that,” Evie said. “I’ve done it all before, remember.”

“Mm.”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean…”

“It’s true enough.”

The bus pulled away, and the car followed it, the wet, leaden streets crawling by.

“Will you be OK?” Evie asked. “If you don’t find a job soon?”

“I have some savings.”

“I’ll talk to my father. He can’t—”

“No.” Aubrey cut her off, his voice firm. “You’re not going to talk to that man. Certainly not on my behalf. I don’t want him ever talking to you again, not now I know how he treats you.”

“He’s my dad…”

Aubrey didn’t answer, eyes glowering at the crowded road ahead.

“I’ll have to talk to him eventually… Not that I really want to. But… You know. Family.”

“I wish you didn’t.”

“You didn’t seem to care that much. At Conyers. I’m fairly sure you agreed with him that I should be muzzled.”

Aubrey gave a small laugh. “Still a plan with some merit.” But he flashed her a glance. “Evie… I was half a second from throttling him the whole time. Couldn’t you guess?”

“No.” She felt absurdly warm at the idea, violent imagery aside. “You must be a good actor.”

He just smiled. “We all have our secrets.”

But her flood of warmth vanished, her own secret looming large again. She shivered, miserable with guilt.

“You,” said Aubrey firmly, giving her another look, “are getting a hot bath the minute we get home.”

True to his word, Aubrey ran her a bath. Then insisted on undressing her himself in the bathroom, telling her to stand still, stop fidgeting, while he drew her wet, muddy clothes over her head, and pulled her damp, dirty jeans down her legs.

He started on her socks, kneeling on the floor, and she squirmed out of his grip with a yelp.

“I told you to stand still,” he chastised her, gently slapping her thigh.

“I’m ticklish!”

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