‘Right, let’s do a list.’ Roo whipped a notebook from her bag. ‘Tell me what you need and I’ll go out and get it. Food, toiletries… anything you want.’
‘OK. Thanks.’ Ellie watched her perch, pen poised, on the arm of the sofa. ‘I’ve nearly run out of deodorant, so you could get me a can of spray.’
‘What make?’
‘Anything, it doesn’t matter.’
This clearly wasn’t good enough. ‘But which one would you like most?’
‘OK, Dove.’
Roo wrote it down. ‘What else?’
‘Apple juice. And some more bread. White, medium sliced.’
The pen flew over the paper. ‘Got it. Next?’
‘Call Todd.’
The pen abruptly stopped. ‘And say what?’
‘Tell him you’d like to see him. Just put him out of his misery. All you’re doing is cutting off your nose to spite your face.’
Roo jutted her chin. ‘Maybe my nose deserves to be cut off.’
‘You said you’d do anything I want.’ This flu had weakened her; Ellie knew her powers of persuasion weren’t on top form. ‘This is what I want, for you and Todd to get together.’
‘Not going to happen.’
‘But you’re making me feel guilty. If it wasn’t for me, you’d be a couple by now. So it’s all my fault!’
‘Nice try,’ said Roo. ‘But the answer’s still no. Your hair’s looking a bit manky, by the way.’ She changed the subject. ‘How about if I call my hairdresser and get her over here to give you a nice cut and blow-dry?’
Always good to know your hair was manky. ‘Thanks, but no thanks.’ Her whole life, Ellie had never once emerged from a salon comfortable with the blow-dry she’d had inflicted on her; they always made her feel like a Stepford wife.
‘How about a manicure, then?’
‘No.’
‘Massage?’
‘Really, no.’
‘Fake tan?’
‘No.’
Roo narrowed her eyes in frustration. ‘Stubborn.’
‘Pot. Kettle,’ said Ellie.
‘But I’m trying to help you!’
‘Same here!’
‘Ooh, you’re so annoying,’ cried Roo.
Ellie kept a straight face. ‘Ditto.’
***
Roo returned with the shopping then headed off to Ormond Road for her shift at the charity shop. Ellie lay on the sofa and dozed. She woke up with a start an hour later, to the sound of laughter in the street below.
It was Jamie’s laugh. There was no mistaking it. Ellie listened, stunned. It was him… oh God, he was back… she leapt off the sofa and stumbled to the window, her skin prickling with joy and disbelief. Jamie, I’m here…
Lack of blood caused her head to spin. The man outside on the pavement was burly and shiny-bald, in his forties, and displaying an impressive paunch as he climbed into his car and carried on chatting on his mobile to whoever had just made him laugh in that spookily Jamie-like way.
Don’t be so stupid, how could you even think it would really be him?
The car sped off and Ellie slumped back on to the sofa. Being momentarily fooled always made the crashing-back-to-reality bit harder to bear. She reached for her mobile and pressed the familiar series of buttons.
‘Hi, I can’t speak to you at the moment.’ This time it was the real Jamie saying it.
‘Well, try a bit harder,’ said Ellie.
‘…But just leave a message after the beep and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can. Bye!’
Ellie waited for the beep, then said, ‘Hi, Jamie, is that a promise? Because I keep leaving messages… I’ve left loads and loads of messages and I’m still waiting for you to call me back.’ She’d told him this before too. She swallowed hard, annoyance giving way to guilt as it invariably did. Poor Jamie, it wasn’t his fault he couldn’t call her back. ‘Sorry. Just wanted to hear your voice. I love you, OK? Miss you. Bye.’
She hung up and had a cry, using her sleeve to wipe her wet face rather than get up and find a tissue. Because there was no need; no one to see her and no appearances to keep up.
‘Eurgh.’ Jamie wandered into the living room as she was wiping her nose. ‘That’s not very ladylike.’
‘Guess what? I don’t care.’
‘Oh, sweetheart. I thought you were feeling better.’
Ellie hauled herself off the sofa and went to fetch the tissue box. Flu-wise she might be feeling better. Jamie-wise her defenses were down, her emotions muddled, and she was riddled with guilt. ‘I wanted you to look after me. You weren’t here.’
‘Sorry. But Zack came to the rescue. He did a pretty good job, didn’t he?’
‘I suppose. But he wasn’t you. He’s my boss.’ Noisily she blew her nose and lay back down. Jamie’s hair was longer today; it needed a cut.