Page 74 of How Much Wine Will Fix My Broken Heart?
I laugh in reply.
‘God, that girl is like a cat, how many lives has she used up already?’
‘At least eight. Say hello to Jag for me.’
‘Jag, Gracie says hello. He says hello back. Let me know if you need me.’
The line goes dead and I’m glad for a moment that Emma didn’t delve for too much information. Like, how did I get Lucy home? Oh, I just rang my man lover to come and assist. He’s downstairs now, drinking tea and filling up all my hot-water bottles, which is another reason I didn’t want to wake Linh. Luckily, Lucy was too out of it to ask too many questions but she did manage some innuendo about being wetter than an otter’s pocket that raised an eyebrow in the rear-view mirror.
I lightly push the door to the bathroom, where Lucy is floating quietly in the warm water, her hair drifting like seaweed. She’d look like Ophelia were it not for the tattoos and the nipple ring. The whiff of Dettol fills the air and I think about what Emma said about her liver failing. I pour another capful in.
Lucy opens her eyes. ‘No more Dettol. It reminds me of when we were younger and someone would have a tummy bug and Mum used to hose down all the bed linen.’
‘Wrong smell, that was Zoflora,’ I say, putting my hand to her upper arm to see if she’s warmed up yet.
‘What did Emma say?’ she asks.
‘She said if you go a funny colour then I need to get you to hospital.’
‘That’s reassuring. I still feel frozen inside.’
‘That’s because of your ice-cold heart. Sam is downstairs making hot-water bottles and tea.’
She looks at me for a second, raising her eyebrows.
‘Stop that.’
‘He’s better looking in real life, which is reassuring. And I liked how he brought blankets… that’s forward thinking.’
I bend down and turn the hot water tap on again to top up the temperature.
‘At least you were too delirious with cold to be too embarrassing.’
‘I’m warming up, though.’
Maybe I should just leave her frozen; she’ll be less trouble that way. The door suddenly swings open and a little figure is standing there, bleary-eyed, one pyjama leg rolled up, the other down. Crap. It’s Isaac. I immediately pull the shower curtain across so he can’t see Lucy’s naked body.
‘What are you doing?’ he asks. ‘Who is in the bath?’
I’m not quite sure what to say. He’ll have no concept of what the time is so I can just lie and say it’s Linh. I’m not sure how I will explain why I’m standing over Granny in the bath, though, giving chat.
‘It’s my sister, Lucy. You met her briefly this evening.’
‘I did. She had nice hair.’
‘Thank you,’ says a voice from beyond the curtain.
‘What are you doing up, little man? Can I walk you back to the room?’ I ask.
‘I need to wee.’
‘Oh. Right. Ummm… you have a wee and I will go outside and, whatever you do, don’t look behind the curtain, OK?’ I instruct him plainly. Please don’t look behind the curtain. My reputation at that school gate is bad enough.
‘Sure thing, Grace Face.’
I see that has caught on. I tiptoe out into the corridor and listen to him weeing through the door.
‘It’s late for a bath,’ I hear him say.
