‘On her way to America – her mother’s really ill.’ He stood back and looked at her.
‘Last resort, am I?’
She supposed she deserved that at the very least.
‘Sorry, right,’ he began, ‘first things first, I need to clean up your foot. He surveyed the mug in the sink, the teabags all over the counter, the dog food spilling from the bowl and the broken shards of coffee cup with blood on the floor. ‘Oh, Maddie,’ he said, turning to look at her.
Don’t cry.
‘Have you even managed to have a cup of tea?’
She didn’t trust herself to speak. She bit her lip and shook her head instead as he started to fill the kettle. Then he went upstairs and came back with some antiseptic, plasters and cotton wool. He knelt down beside her and carefully wiped her foot with the moist cotton wool, dabbing at the cut. ‘It’s not too deep,’ he murmured, rubbing in cream. He held her foot in his hand and peered at the cut. ‘No, I don’t think there’s anything in there.’ Then he ripped open a plaster and placed it over the cut, pressing down at the edges gently.
‘You’ve done this before,’ she managed.
He nodded. ‘Kids at the centre. They’re always cutting themselves. Comes with the job.’ Then he stood up and scooped her up in his arms again. Her head rested on his shoulder as he carried her though to the lounge and she stared at his strong jaw, the dark hair curling around his ears, the soft earlobe – and she shut her eyes. Slowly, he lowered her onto the couch and found a blanket to put over her.
‘Stay there,’ he said. ‘And I’ll make you a cup of tea and some toast now – you can have it using a straw; I bought some. Then I’ll make you some soup for later, and I’m going to tidy up.’ He wandered out of the lounge as she let her head fall back onto the cushions.
She could hear him clattering around and listened to the clunk of the china pieces falling into the bin. A few minutes later, he came through with tea in a mug, with a straw, and some granary toast, thickly buttered and covered in marmalade, cut up into tiny pieces on a tray, and set it down on the table in front of them both.
‘Want to say something?’ she managed, looking sideways at him, sneaking a glimpse of his expression, brow furrowed; the lines on either side of his eyes were more pronounced now, the creases deeper. He had stubble on his cheeks, with tiny flecks of grey just emerging where sideburns would be.
He nodded. Then he turned his face to her. ‘The first thing I want to say, is that I am not sure why I should help you, Maddie, when all you’ve done is lie to me.’
She had to admit to herself it was true. ‘I know,’ she whispered. ‘I’m sorry about what happened at the party. Tim, he was—’
‘A prick.’
‘Yeah, he was. I think you shut him up though.’
He nodded. A smile began on his lips. Then he took a few pieces of toast and held them to her mouth. She ate gratefully. They sat in silence for a long while as she replayed what he’d said. Eventually, Greg sat back.
‘I’m so sorry, Greg.’ She clung on to the fact that he had come to party… even if it was just to see Ed.
Greg looked out to the bay but didn’t say anything.
‘And, well,’ she said, taking a deep breath, ‘I need you.’
He turned to look at her. ‘Yes, you do now,’ he said curtly, glancing at her hands, ‘but you’ve made it quite clear in your life that you didn’t need me. I’m not sure I can get over it, I mean, there’s just so much between us now.’ He shook his head. His soft brown eyes were sunken and there were dark circles underneath them. ‘I came to the party, well, I thought I should come for Ed, but he despises me.’
‘No, he doesn’t.’
‘He does, Maddie,’ Greg snapped as Maddie jerked herself upright at his tone. ‘Have you any idea how hard that is for me?’ He glanced at her hands. ‘Look, I’ll help you until your hands have healed,’ he added more gently, ‘but let’s not talk anymore. Not with you like this.’
She couldn’t bear this, but she knew she couldn’t push his friendship either. She was just