Page 34 of No Safe Place
‘Nothing,’ he said, eyes closed. ‘Just thinking about how much better we are at flirting, now we’re not a couple.’
Her stomach muscles clenched.
‘But either way, this is pretty spot on.’ He splashed more whisky into the tumbler. ‘Me, you, booze. It’s like the good old days.’
She got up and busied herself with the wilting spider plant in the corner, tipping stale water from a forgotten glass into the pot.
He surveyed her over his drink. ‘I’ve been writing again. Properly.’
She didn’t admit that she’d noticed.
‘Proper writing.’ His eyes lit up.
‘Picking up that second novel again?’ she asked, a little coolly. She scratched at a stain on the tablecloth with her thumbnail.
‘Nah, can’t be arsed with that pile of shit, although if I get sectioned again, I’d have a shot at the Booker.’ He cracked open a cider. ‘It’s a short story. It’s about you.’
Lily blinked. ‘Callum—’
‘It’s nothing like that, Lil. Do you remember—’ He shifted his weight on the dining chair, so he was crouching on it, looming over her a little. ‘When we went to that farm? In Wales?’
‘When we went camping?’
He nodded, eager.
It’d rained, incessantly. They were pretty much the only people at the farm’s open day. The owner gave them a personal tour. She and Cal held hands the whole way round, except to pet the animals. There was a lot of standing in the rain, gazing into each other’s eyes.
On the last night of the trip the weather had cleared up and they’d packed the tent away, back in the car. Slept under the stars. Cal counted them for her: 12, 24, 48—
‘It’s about the farm,’ he went on happily. He licked theRizla of a cigarette that she hadn’t noticed him rolling, then handed it to her.
She took it, wincing inwardly. Scott had made her swear to start cutting down.
‘What’s there to say about the farm?’ she asked, voice a little unsteady.
He spread the tobacco along his own cigarette and didn’t look up at her as he spoke. ‘The story is about something you said, just before we left. Do you remember?’
She shook her head.
‘Well, I do. Right before we got back in the car, you said to me that we’d go back one day. To the farm. You promised we’d see it again. Remember?’
‘No,’ Lily lied.
He arched an eyebrow. ‘Yes, you do.’
She shrugged.
‘Anyway, that’s what the story is about.’ He lit the cigarette. ‘It’s about not going back.’
Lily felt woozy. She shouldn’t drink spirits.
‘I’m going to get better,’ Cal said, his eyes unfocused. ‘I am. I’mgettingbetter. I feel better every day.’
Lily didn’t say anything. She picked at the label on the edge of a wine bottle, trying to scrape off the sticky adhesive.
Callum licked his lips. ‘I’ve been doing more exposure therapy. I’ve been carrying this phone around. Look.’
He pulled it out of his back pocket and threw it down on the table between them. Drank deeply from his can.
