me to scream—when the murderer starts opening the door, when they actually enter the room, or do I wait until they pull the sheet off my head? I want my phone but it’s charging on the other side of the room.
The murderer is definitely hovering on the other side of my door. Except now there is another set of footsteps, and whispers. Two people whispering. I pull the sheet down off my head.
‘Alex?’ It’s Mariella’s voice.
‘Mum?’
‘You almost gave me a heart attack! What are you doing here?’ she says.
‘I drove down after I finished work. What are you holding? Is that a cricket bat?’
‘I thought you were someone breaking in.’
‘So you left Dad asleep and came out to confront an intruder on your own with a child’s plastic cricket bat?’
‘Your father doesn’t have a killer instinct. He’d hesitate at the crucial moment. You know that.’
‘True.’
‘What are you doing driving on New Year’s Eve? That’s dangerous, honey.’
‘I wasn’t drinking. Trust me. I was pulled over and tested by a booze bus twice on the way down.’
‘Driving for an hour and a half in the middle of the night after a long shift is how you fall asleep at the wheel and die.’
‘You’re right. I shouldn’t have done it. I just had a bad night and wanted to get out of the city.’
‘What happened?’
‘Nothing, I just—let’s talk in the morning.’
‘Well, Zach’s in there asleep, and the trundle bed is still in the cupboard in Glenn and Anthony’s room. I don’t want to wake them up.’
‘I’ll share with Zach then. You know how he sleeps. He won’t even notice I’m in the bed until morning.’
‘Sweetie, come here.’
‘Mum—’
‘I just want a quick hug.’
‘Mum, come on.’
‘You can’t hug your mother now?’ The universal mum-guilt tone.
‘Fine. Careful with that bat.’
There’s a beat of silence.
‘Your T-shirt smells like beer. And chips.’
‘Yeah, I work in a pub.’
‘Goodnight, honey. I love you.’
‘Night, Mum. Love you too.’
I’m so busy eavesdropping that what is about to happen occurs to me in a rush. I pull the sheet back over my head.
The bedroom door opens and then closes. I am waiting to make sure Mariella has gone back to her room before I speak, but I hear the sound of Alex taking off his jeans, and my mind turns into a white-noise buzz, it’s so panicked.
‘Wait,’ I say. My voice comes out in a huffy breath. The sheet is still covering my head.
‘Shit? Who is that?’ Alex must have one leg half in, half out of his jeans because I hear a hop as he jolts in surprise, and then a soft thud as he falls onto the floor.
‘Are you okay?’ I ask.
‘Natalie?’
‘Yes.’
‘Sorry. Shit. Mum said Zach was in here.’
‘He was. We swapped, don’t tell her, so he and Lucy could share.’
‘Oh.’
I pull back the sheet and squint into the dark. He’s standing up, yanking his jeans back on.
‘Bloody Zach,’ he says.
‘It’s New Year’s Eve. They wanted a night together.’
‘So what do we do? I guess I’ll sleep on the floor,’ he says, but sits down on the bed. Then he flops onto his back, putting his hands over his face, like we’re facing the greatest predicament two people could ever endure.
‘I’m so fucking tired and I’ve had the worst fucking night ever and I can’t stop fucking swearing, sorry. I don’t even like swearing,’ Alex says. There’s a brokenness in his voice that makes my heart hurt.
‘Get in,’ I say, because it seems like the kindest thing to say right now, and I want to offer him some small kindness. About a millisecond after I have uttered the words, I want to die. I just told Alex to get in bed with me. I resist the urge to pull the sheet back over my head. Maybe I will self-combust and disappear into thin air before he answers. I can only hope.
He lies still for a second, and then he sits up and crawls up the bed until his head is on the pillow next to mine.
‘Thank you,’ he says, his voice a little shaky.
It’s ridiculous he’s thanking me, because this is his family’s house, not mine. I want to say ‘and take your jeans off ’ because the thought of him sleeping in jeans on a warm night makes my skin itch, but telling him that sounds even more suggestive than telling him to get in the bed, and also I’m not sure I want him to take his jeans off.
I can’t sleep in a bed with a pantless Alex. I