about Todd and she’d told him how relieved she was to be free of the fear that she was trapped in a relationship that was all wrong. Tony was sad but sympathetic; he understood. Then she talked about today’s kerfuffle with Louisa and he nodded and said, ‘Poor girl,’ a couple of times, and helped himself to another beer.
OK, enough. Ellie said, ‘Tony? Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?’ She waited, watching him pour the beer slowly into his glass. ‘Because otherwise I’m going to start worrying that you’re ill.’
Tony put the bottle down. The laughter lines around his eyes weren’t getting much exercise today. His misery was tangible. ‘I’m not ill, sweetheart.’
He was an actor. She watched him closely. ‘Sure?’
‘I’m sure. I promise. It’s not that.’ He rested his elbows on the table. ‘OK, I’ll tell you. Remember those paintings I bought, months ago? The ones by the artist I met on Primrose Hill…?’
Chapter 37
Ellie’s throat was on fire, her body was a dead weight, and she couldn’t stop shivering. It was almost too painful to turn over in bed. Was this how it felt to climb Kilimanjaro? Oh God, Jamie, this is horrible, where are you when I need you? Can you not even get me a glass of water?
She woke up again three hours later. It was sunny outside and the light hurt her eyes. It was even an effort to lift her head and peer at the alarm clock. Eight thirty. Oh no, what about work? But there was no way she could go in today; this wasn’t a cough or a cold, it was full-blown flu. She’d experienced it twice before in her life and now it was third time unlucky. But at least she didn’t need to wrestle with her conscience; work was out of the question. This wasn’t man flu, it was the proper kind. She’d have to call Zack and let him know.
It took superhuman strength to crawl out of bed. Unbelievably, all she’d felt last night was extra tired and a bit hot. Now it was all she could do to make it to the bathroom for Tylenol, a glass of water, and a wee. Then through to the living room to collect her phone.
Back in bed, breathless and weak with exhaustion, Ellie pressed buttons until Zack’s name came up. Then she heard his voice telling her he was busy right now and could she leave a message.
‘Zack, it’s me. Sorry, um, I’ve got flu.’ Even holding the phone was sapping her energy; the pain in her head was indescribable. ‘Can’t come into work.’ Her throat was burning and she was croaking like a frog. She sounded ridiculous, like the worst kind of malingerer putting on one of those feeble I’m-so-sick voices that didn’t fool anyone. ‘Sorry, but I can’t, I really am ill. It’s flu… OK… bye.’ She ended the call and hauled herself with difficulty over onto her side. Her eyes closed, which could only be a good thing. Sleep would take the pain away, wouldn’t it?
The next time Ellie woke it was four o’clock and her skin hurt so much she could hardly bear the duvet to touch it. Her bones ached, and she’d never felt hotter in her life. But two minutes later, having pushed the duvet to one side, she was shivering uncontrollably once more. Her mouth was dry too, and she was thirsty beyond belief. Pushing strands of damp hair off her face only caused more pain. This was worse than Kilimanjaro in size-three high heels. OK, reach for the glass, drink the water. She managed it without spilling too much down the side of her chin. It wasn’t until the glass was empty that Ellie realized she’d forgotten to take the next two Tylenols. She couldn’t swallow them dry. But this now meant climbing out of bed to get more water. Tears prickled at the back of her eyes. This was when she missed Jamie the most. And she couldn’t have picked a worse time to be ill if she tried; Tony had flown back to LA last week, Todd was away at a business conference in Edinburgh, even Roo had taken off for a few days to pay a long overdue visit to her mother in Marbella. If she were truly desperate she could call Paula, but she didn’t want to do that; it wouldn’t be fair.
Jamie? Jamie, are you there?
But her brain was so fogged with pain and exhaustion and