Page 103 of Save You
“Are you telling me you never noticed?”he exclaims in disbelief.
I nod in silence.
“You never noticed that I haven’t been with anyone since our little fling?You never noticed that after your mum died, I was there for you from morning to night, to comfort you?”
“That’s what friends do for one another,” I whisper tearfully.
“I wouldn’t do that for just anyone,” he says, his tone bitter.“I’d only do it for you.”
I stare at him, unable to move.Nausea washes over me, andmore tears are rolling down my cheeks.“I’m sorry.I…I never meant to hurt you.”
Cyril hesitantly lifts a hand and wipes away one of my tears.Then his face hardens.“But you did.”
With those words, he turns away and walks toward the parking lot.
29
James
This evening is definitely not going the way I imagined.
The original plan was to spend as much time with Ruby as possible, seeing that each of us was only on duty for an hour, after which we’d be free to do whatever we liked.I wanted to dance with her, party with her, and kiss her as often as she would let me in front of everyone else.
But then Lydia suddenly burst back into Boyd Hall.At first we thought her conversation with Sutton had gone badly, or that he’d said something to hurt her.When we finally got her to tell us what had actually happened, I immediately went in search of Cyril.
Neither Alistair nor Keshav had any idea where he could be, and it took me ages to find Wren, who could at least tell me that Cyril had driven home in a hurry some time earlier.So then I called a taxi and asked Percy to drive Lydia, Ember, and Ruby home.
Now I’m standing outside Cyril’s front door, pressing the bellagain and again.I can hear it clanging from out here, the sound echoing through the house.I’m sure Cyril’s at home—his car is in the driveway and I saw a light on upstairs in his room as the taxi approached.
I ring again.And again.Just as I’m lifting my finger the third time, the door flies open.
And a waft of booze hits me.It’s been no more than an hour since his encounter with Lydia, but Cyril’s swaying on his feet.His dark hair is all over the place and the top buttons of his shirt are undone.
“What a surprise.Lydia’s sent her watchdog round,” he slurs.
“Can I come in?”I ask.
Cyril flings the door wider, turns, and walks up the stairs without looking at me.The whole house is dark.Looks like his folks aren’t back yet.
I follow him up to the first floor and straight into his room.The window is open, but the clouds of smoke and alcohol fumes hang heavily in the air.
Cyril sits on the windowsill.I can see a cigarette stub glowing in an ashtray.He picks it up, takes a deep drag, and leans back.
“So,” he begins, still not looking at me.“You’re here to buy my silence?”
“I’m here because I’m worried about you,” I reply, walking over to the window.
Cyril turns and looks at me, eyebrows raised.
“And because Lydia’s worried too.”
He snorts with laughter and takes another puff.Next to the ashtray is a bottle of whisky that’s less than half full.Can he really have drunk all that in the last hour?
I’d never have imagined seeing Cyril in this state.
“I’m sorry, mate.”
Cyril stubs out the cigarette.Then he grabs the bottle, lifts it to his lips, and tips back his head.
