else would have— Can I pour you a glass of water?”
“What they said to me,” Seb continues, ignoring my attempt to deflect him, “was that if you hadn’t called, no one might have noticed me in that alley. Apparently I was covered in a mound of litter, behind a bin. I might not have regained consciousness. It was one of the coldest nights of the year. Hypothermia. Kills people every winter.” He meets my gaze again, his eyes unreadable. “So. Life. Saved. And again: Thank you.”
“Well.” I feel a tingle rise up my cheeks. “I just … Anyone would have … What happened, though?” I can’t help asking. “You were fine. You were talking. And then you were out cold.”
“The guys who’d had a go at me came back,” says Seb, his face twisting up as though with a memory he doesn’t want to have. “Or maybe it was a different lot. As they say, didn’t see them coming. Knocked me out.”
I don’t know how to reply. I survey Seb’s injuries anew and feel tears of anger coming to my eyes. Seb is a good guy. He should not be hurt by anyone.
“Anyway, I owe you one,” Seb adds with a wry smile.
“You really don’t.” I smile back, relieved that he’s not looking quite so grave anymore.
“I really do,” he contradicts me. “Although how I ever pay that one back, God only knows.”
“Buy me a drink.” I shrug. “I’m a cheap date.” As soon as I say the words I realize with horror how they might sound. “I mean … Not …” I flounder hopelessly. “Not date. I meant …”
“I know what you meant,” says Seb, looking amused.
“How’s Briony?” I add quickly, to send the message: I know you have a girlfriend. “I expect she’s on her way. I’ll leave as soon as … She must have been shocked.”
“She’s in Amsterdam on a business trip,” says Seb. “Gets back tomorrow. We talked about her getting a flight today,” he adds, as though reading my mind, “but there’s no need for her to cut her trip short. I’m fine here, and it’s a pretty important conference for her.”
“Right,” I say, nodding. “Absolutely. Makes more sense.”
I’m not going to judge Whiny. I’m not.
But really? A conference? When he nearly died?
“Fair enough,” I add for good measure, to make it plain that I’m not casting any aspersions. “Let me pour you that water.”
As I hand him the glass, Seb has a quizzical look to his eyes and I have a horrible feeling he’s remembering all the rude things I said about Briony that night at 6 Folds Place. Quick, let’s move on to another topic.
“Anyway, the police were there,” I say. “So let’s hope they catch whoever did this.”
“Unlikely,” says Seb. “But, yes, let’s hope.” Then his expression changes. “Wait, you went there? To the alley itself?”
“Oh,” I say, flustered. I hadn’t intended to let that slip out. “Well … yes. Just to check the ambulance had got there. It was practically on my way,” I add quickly.
“No, it wasn’t,” says Seb, his face crinkling with some emotion I can’t read. “You really are my guardian angel.”
“Hardly! So … how long will you have to stay in?”
“Only a day or two,” says Seb. “It was the head injury they were worried about. But as you see, I’m completely all there, totally normal.” He suddenly pulls a grotesque face and I can’t help giggling.
There’s silence for a while, and we listen to the visitors in the next cubicle, who are saying things like, “You can hardly tell,” and “It’s not much of a scar,” and “You’ll soon be right as rain, Geoff!” in eager, overlapping voices.
“That guy was mugged too,” says Seb conversationally, gesturing at the curtain, and I wince. “You know, I’m a liberal kind of guy, but I find myself feeling … what would I call it? Vengeful.” He smiles enough that I know he’s joking, but his voice is dry enough that I know he’s kind of not joking too.
“I’m not surprised,” I say lightly, determined to keep the conversation upbeat. “Will you turn into a vigilante?”
“Maybe,” says Seb, giving a bark of laughter. “You’ll see me on the evening news, wearing my tights and mask, brandishing—what? Lead piping?”
“A candlestick,” I suggest, and we both smile again.
“Are you a vengeful person?” Seb asks, taking a sip of water. “You seem like a person who doesn’t bear grudges.”
“I guess I don’t, really,” I say after a moment’s thought. “Except once, and that