Page 125 of Shroom for Improvement

“Claude!” He was on his feet, racing towards me. “You’re soaked.”

“I did it,” I said, breathless. “I did it. The lightning. I did it.”

The next second, his mouth was on mine.

He knocked my hat off my head, his hands curled around my neck, thumbs brushed my cheeks.

“I knew you could do it. I knew you always had it in you.”

I’ll miss you.That was what I wanted to say to him.I’ll miss you, and I love you. Please don’t go.

I bit my tongue.

Instead, I began unbuttoning my shirt. “Get me out of these wet clothes.”

“Right away,” he replied, his fingers already unfastening my trousers.

Claude’s Pretty Things

Sonny

It was always going to feel like the end.

The main reason I hadn’t handed Claude’s possessions back to him already was because I knew, on some level, this would mark the conclusion of not only our time together at Stinkhorn Manor, but also those three years I’d spent semi-stalking him on U-Rail trains.

It felt like closing a book. Like being left on a cliffhanger, with no news of the sequel.

It was the morning of the twentieth. My taxi was waiting on the gravel drive of Stinkhorn Manor. Claude and I watched it pull up through the windows of his bedroom. I had packed all my clothes into a suitcase, which Oggy and Willow had brought down already, and had boxed up all my research notes and cultures and soil samples separately. Claude agreed to ship them to me at a later date. I’d said goodbye to the sentry faeand John, and even Mrs Ziegler after I saw her passing in the hall. And I had taken many, many slow strolls through the property, running my hands over the walls and wooden panels, remembering all the moments Claude and I had shared.

There was just one thing left to do.

I swallowed back my sob, and handed Claude the small, plastic ice-cream tub with his belongings inside. At some point in the past three years, I had taken a permanent marker to the lid and scribbledCLAUDE’S PRETTY THINGSon it. The writing was faded, rubbed away by the frequency with which I’d handled it. Could have been worse, I supposed, I could have drawn a love heart next to his name.

“You store them in this?” he said, accepting the container with a raised brow. He peeled the lid off and rummaged through the contents. “My front door key! Oh, my gosh. I’d forgotten about these pins. Fuck, I knew I didn’t lose that pen.” He looked at me, his eyes a little more watery than they usually were. “Thank you for returning them. But you keep this.”

And he placed the largest item in my palm and closed my fist around it.

The compass. The glass face glinted in the morning sun through the gaps between my fingers.

“Why?” was all I could think to say. I’d stolen from him, time and time again. I didn’t deserve his forgiveness, and especially not his generosity.

“I won’t need it here. I’m not going anywhere for a while. I’ve already written to U-Rail and tendered my resignation, and I’d like you to take it as a memento. A reminder of your time here. With me.”

Fuck, Sonny, do not cry.

“I don’t want to go!” I blurted out. Internally, I rolled my eyes. Why could I never keep my mouth shut?

Claude’s mouth opened and hung there. He knew as well as I did I couldn’t lie.

“I mean...” I blew out a breath and tried to steady my racing heartbeat. “Can I come back? To conduct further research.”

“Further research?” Claude’s expression was unreadable, but I was certain I saw disappointment flash across his features.

I nodded. I didn’t trust my flippant mouth not to say something catastrophic like,“I love you, Claude, and I’m seriously considering giving everything up to live in this bonkers house with you until we’re both doddering old men.”

Maybe I’d already overstayed my welcome.

“If that’s okay with you?” I added because Claude had been silent for an unnervingly long amount of time. “I’m not sure when it would be, when I would return. I’d need to tie things up with the article, and with uni, but I could ask the dean for a sabbatical. You can absolutely tell me when you’ve had enough of me, and I’ll leave, just like that.”

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