he asked, even though he knew he had no right to.
He felt her shrug and breathe out shakily.
‘Whatever you can’t not do, I guess.’
It was a typically Honey kind of answer.
‘I need to get back outside,’ she said eventually, and he felt her hot tears run between his fingers on her cheek.
‘Whatever happens next, I honestly didn’t mean to hurt you,’ he said, breathing in her scent, resisting the crazy, desperate urge to kiss her better.
She laughed softly, shook her head. ‘Let’s just call it collateral damage.’
He made his way to the back door after Honey had left the kitchen, and stood there on the step for a few minutes to feel the warmth of the sun on his crawling skin. How much more collateral fucking damage was his accident going to cause before it was done with him and everyone around him?
Skinny Steve bounded back into the kitchen a few minutes later to refill his thermos with more soup.
‘This is going down a bomb out there,’ he said gleefully. ‘We’re going to need to make more.’
‘Yeah. Honey was in here just now and said as much.’
‘Honey was here?’ Disappointment rang clear through Steve’s voice, and the penny dropped. Steve had a crush on Honey. He was certain that Honey had no clue. She was totally guileless when it came to understanding the effect she had.
Steve was quiet as he assembled the vegetables for the soup on the bench for Hal to start work on. As they chopped onions side by side, he paused.
‘Did you ever see pictures of Marilyn Monroe, Hal? You know, before your accident, like?’
Hal nodded, aware from Steve’s voice that he was being taken into his confidence.
‘Sure I did.’
‘And you know that woman who played Bridget Jones? Renee something?’
‘I think I know the one, yeah. Why?’
Steve paused. ‘Because that’s what Honey’s like. Curvy like Marilyn, and always getting into trouble, like that Bridget Jones chick. She’s blonde as well, but kind of kick ass.’
‘So like Uma Thurman in Kill Bill too?’
‘Man, I’d like to see Honey in that yellow tracksuit,’ Steve murmured, and then coughed and seemed to gather himself. ‘Yeah, like that.’
Funnily enough, all of the women Skinny Steve had listed resonated with the image of Honey he’d built in his head. She certainly had Marilyn’s curves, he knew because he’d held them in his hands. He knew her dips and her hollows, they’d burned themselves onto his brain so clearly that he’d be able to mould her body from clay. And a penchant for getting herself into trouble? Bridget Jones was strictly amateur compared to Honey. She’d been trouble from the first time he’d met her in their hallway, which seemed like a lifetime ago now, and it followed her around like toilet paper stuck to the heel of her shoe. She was a trouble magnet.
And kick ass? Hell, yeah. She didn’t think so herself, but that girl could rule the world if she wanted to. It’d teeter on the edge of disaster the whole time, but she’d somehow keep it balanced and make every one of her subjects adore her without even trying. Personally Hal could live without the yellow tracksuit, but as summaries went, Skinny Steve had pretty much hit the nail on the head.
‘Pass the carrots, Steve.’
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
‘Jesus, Honey, there’s more than two hundred people here. We’re going to need a police marshal at this rate,’ Tash said. ‘We ran out of handcuffs ages ago, people are using anything they’ve got. I’ve just chained four men up by the belts from their trousers. The women next to them were cheering, they thought they were going to get a performance of The Full Monty!’
Honey shook her head, overwhelmed with pretty much everything about the day. The protesters lined the street along the railings, snaked around the corner, and then doubled back on themselves along the other side of the railings. They were almost back at the beginning again, a complete loop of residents, friends, family, and locals who’d heard about the protest and come to show their support. Banners waved, t-shirts were emblazoned, and the gathered press pack had expanded in numbers almost as quickly as the protest.
‘Are the residents all okay?’ Honey asked as Nell came to join them on the pavement.
‘Absolutely. They’ve all got a chair and a blanket each now, and we made sure they all had lunch. We had help, too. They’ve all had their medication,’ she said, nodding towards Nikki, the care home worker, who was kneeling