I showered quickly, worrying stupidly that he might come in. What did it matter if he did, since we were about to sleep together? But still, the idea was unsettling. My hair was already kinking and frizzing, but there was nothing I could do about that. And I wasn’t going to put on my lacy pyjamas, because that would be too try-hard. I settled for a T-shirt from a long-ago PETA convention, faded and worn almost see-through, and black pants, because if that was good enough for Jude surely it was good enough for me.
And, after I’d brushed my teeth a second time, I pushed open the bathroom door and approached the bed.
Jude was fast asleep, his head and feet sticking out from either end of the duvet. Frazzle was sitting on the little table where I worked and ate, looking deeply resentful.
So I got into bed and lay there, trying to breathe without making a sound, my mind racing like a poor caged hamster on a wheel. What if I’d read this all wrong, and Jude simply hadn’t felt the same sense of connection I had? What if he had genuinely just been knackered and hadn’t wanted to trek across London at night to get a train home? What if he simply didn’t fancy me? What if no one would ever fancy me again and I was destined to be alone forever and never have sex again?
I tried to relax, to identify points of tension in my body and release them, to distract my brain by counting backwards from three hundred, but nothing worked. Next to me, Jude turned over and flung an arm across the pillow. I looked at his face in the semi-darkness, admiring the swoop of his cheekbones and the clean line of his jaw, but it was still and unreadable in sleep. Eventually, I felt the heavy thud of Frazzle jumping up onto the bed. He didn’t get under the duvet with me as usual, though;, he just settled down on my feet in a disgruntled fashion and started to snore, and eventually I must have fallen asleep too.
I woke up at six as usual, and for a second everything felt normal. Then I remembered Jude. I turned over, cautiously, partly not wanting to wake him, partly fearing that he might have vanished in the night, or somehow never have been there at all. But he was. His glossy brown hair was spread out over my pillow, his long body was a Z shape under my duvet, his hand was so close my hair was almost brushing it.
Silently, I sat up. What was the etiquette here? Did I get up and get ready for work as usual, and head out? Did I wake him up and tell him he needed to leave? I didn’t have a clue. But I knew I needed to wee and clean my teeth, so I stood up and made my way to the bathroom, Frazzle padding behind me.
When I came out, Jude was awake, sitting up against the pillows.
‘Hello,’ I said.
‘Hello. What time is it?’
‘Ten past six.’
‘Good, nice and early. Come here.’
I went over and sat on the bed, and Jude took my hand. It was the first time he’d touched me since he’d helped me up from the pavement the previous day, which seemed like about a century ago. His hand was warm and dry and strong, and fitted perfectly around mine. I felt a surge of nervous excitement at his touch, not knowing what would happen next.
‘I believe we have some unfinished business,’ he said.
‘I don’t believe we even started.’
‘We didn’t. Better do something about that, then.’
And he leaned over and kissed me on the lips, very gently. My lips parted and I felt his tongue brush mine, his fingers caress my face. His eyes were so close to mine that they were just a blur, so I let my eyelids close and let myself kiss him back, losing myself in the closeness and newness of him like I was diving into a pool of warm water.
Thirteen
Today, a tall dark stranger will bring good news – but you may not see it for what it is at first.
I didn’t hear from Dani for a couple of days. Since her reply to the message I’d sent when I was on the train with Jude, in which she’d said she was okay, in one piece and about to get on a train herself, there’d been nothing.