Sincerely, Yours by Charlotte Barnes

Author:Charlotte Barnes [Barnes, Charlotte]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bloodhound Books

30

I hadn’t got used to the experience of waking up next to someone. It seemed strange, how you could go from knowing someone in a professional capacity all the way through to knowing how their hair looks after sex – and then how it looked the next morning, too. Although staying over was a relatively new thing. I’d argued it was a step too close to intimacy; that we were better off tiring ourselves in a shared bed and sleeping in separate ones. But that had opened up a line of questioning that, as a reporter, I should have seen coming. In the end it had been easier to agree to the occasional night of sleeping next to a warm body, rather than having a difficult conversation and, worse still, ruining a good set-up. Finding someone else who didn’t want a public relationship – in The Golden Age of Social Media – had felt like finding gold dust. Although we both used the R-word in a fast and loose way. Neither of us really wanted one of those either.

At an ungodly hour one Sunday morning, Wren’s phone vibrated across the bedside table with fury enough to wake us both up. Her cheek was pressed against the flat of my back and I felt her stir, but not fast enough to get to the handset. Despite knowing the source of the noise I remained wide-eyed and rigid until she’d rolled away. It still happened, sometimes, when an intrusion startled me enough. She set a gentle hand on my shoulder and massaged at the skin, as though physically trying to loosen my posture one point at a time.

‘Sarah, are you with me?’

I rolled over then and made a comedy sketch of stretching. ‘Christ, what time is it?’

‘Too early.’ She leaned forward to kiss my arm. ‘I’ll go and deal with this.’

‘Stay in bed. You’ll freeze if you get out.’

We’d reached the time of the year when the heating should be kicking in. But it was holding out for another degree to drop. She looked to the handset and then back to me. She didn’t say anything, but from the tight smile I knew it was a call she wanted privacy for.

‘I’ll be right back.’

‘You could tell them not to call on a Sunday.’ I tried to sound light. ‘It’s the Lord’s day, after all.’

‘I’m not sure spending the day in bed with another woman really fits into that.’

‘Pff.’ I rolled over and buried my head in the pillow. ‘Work doesn’t either,’ I added, but not loud enough for her to hear. Wren had been my only reason for taking Sundays off from work. It was a sore point, then, that her work could always get her: first thing in the morning; last thing at night; once in the middle of the night, although she thought I hadn’t heard her take the call.

‘I’ll bring tea back with me.’

I could tell she was near the doorway from the throw of her voice. I grunted by way of replying and tried to feign disinterest – until the door closed.

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