Page 153 of Reinventing Cato
Vigge grinned. “I’ll wait. Put the kettle on.”
“Thank God you don’t have a spare bed.”
“The couch converts.”
“No! Don’t tell them that.”
“They can stay.”
Cato made a whining sound.
They’d only been downstairs for about ten minutes when Cato heard a car pull onto the drive.
“Quick. Lie down. Look ill.” Cato chucked the throw at him. “Really ill. Do a bit of heavy breathing. Not too heavy or they’ll get the wrong idea.”
Vigge laughed and tossed the throw onto the couch. Cato frowned and went to open the door.
“Oh my God.” Jonty threw his arms around him, hitting Cato with the plastic bag he was carrying. “I am so traumatised. My heart’s still racing. It was like being driven for hours in a getaway car, but by a gorgeous guy who wouldn’t let me touch him. Not even his gearstick, which yes,isa euphemism. Devan taught me that word.”
Devan rolled his eyes, then wrapped his arms around Cato and Jonty. Jonty yelped and slipped out from between them.
“You didn’t need to drive all this way,” Cato mumbled when Devan didn’t let him go.
“Yes I did.” Devan looked over at Vigge. “Are you both okay?”
“No, he’s not,” Cato said. “They only let him out of hospital this morning. He needs to rest. You can see I’m fine. Thanks for coming. Goodbye.”
“Nice try.” Devan turned to shake Vigge’s hand.
“Are you moving out or in?” Jonty was staring at all the stuff in the hall.
“I’m staying here for a while. I’m fine. Thanks for coming. Goodbye.”
“Come into the kitchen,” Vigge said. “You need something to eat? Cato made soup.”
“Don’t give them my soup,” Cato protested.
He was left standing alone in the hall as the pair followed Vigge. When he went into the kitchen, Jonty and Devan were sitting at the table and Vigge was stirring the contents of the saucepan.
“Sit down,” Cato said. “Let me do it.”
“Have you called Mum?” Devan asked.
“Yes, and Ellen and Venice. Not Griff. He’s in the States. Mum said she’d call him.”
“How are you both?” Jonty glanced between them.
“Vigge needs to rest. He had a partially collapsed lung, a large dose of Rohypnol, hypothermia and emotional trauma from me nearly dying, even though he slept through the whole thing. He needs peace and quiet. Did I not say that? Aren’t you listening?”
“Have I been noisy?” Jonty asked. “I know I am usually, but Devan warned me, and I’ve only said thirty-seven words so far. Not counting these. I think.”
Cato put the soup and bread in front of them.
“Oh yum.” Jonty beamed. “Smells great.”
“Thank you.” Devan reached for a slice of bread.
“We drove all this way to see if you were all right.” Jonty waited until Devan had buttered it, then took the slice of bread from his fingers. “Devan was really worried. I was too. You’re the only one in your family who liked me straight away.”
